Some shrubs suffer much from exposure to cold winds. In the open ground the White Antwerp Raspberry has been much injured, while ten rods off, under the lee of red cedars, it has done well. The common laburnum may illustrate the same doctrine. One which stood in a door-yard, exposed to the west winds, was damaged every winter, until a building was erected very near it so as completely to shelter it on that side, and from that time during seven years it has not been injured.

Climate, however, is not more important than soil. The peaty earth and stagnant water of the marsh are not more essential to subaquatics, than sand to the wild lupin; but the limestone lands of western New York are deleterious to many plants that require neither mud nor sand. The Azalea, the Kalmia, and the Rhododendron have declined and perished within two or three years after being planted in the most favorable situations. I regretted their loss, but was not quite discouraged. Having found on the brink of a deep ravine certain plants that grow nowhere else in the neighborhood, such as several kinds of earth moss, some species of Pyrola and Hieracium vetwsum, I thought the soil would suit those beautiful shrubs; and I determined to make the experiment. A pit two feet deep, enclosed by a frame of boards, was filled with it, and two fine plants of Kalmia latifolia are now in the most flourishing condition, after a trial of four years. Between them stands a Pontic Azalea in the deepest green, and it has grown more in the present season than in any five preceding' it. .

Perhaps the best method of training roses of the tall-growing kinds is on pillars. Two years ago I had pieces of scantling, twelve feet in length and three inches by four, planted as posts, first perforating them in five or six places with a two-inch auger. Through these holes the stem of the rose is drawn. As it lengthens this operation should be repeated, from time to time, till it reaches the top, - about nine feet high; and as it depends on no decaying cord or bandage for support, it cannot be blown down by the wind.

To insure the posts from decay, inch auger holes near the ground were bored, slanting downwards, not quite through, and filled with salt. Some persons have used plugs in their posts to keep out the rain; but it is best to leave them open for a time, till the wood becomes saturated with brine. As the salt dissolves more should be supplied, - say two or three times a year.

To obtain a finer display, I have planted roses of different colors on opposite sides of the posts, intertwining their branches. At one, I have the tea-scented Ayrshire and Violet Episcopal, by way of contrast; and at another, the Baltimore Belle and Queen of the Prairies. I have sixteen posts of this description, and have obtained, expressly for this purpose, a sufficient number of tall-growing kinds. Further experiments are wanted, however, to determine what sorts can most fitly associate, and what shades of color will harmonize the best.

Of all the insects that annoy the florist, the rose bug ought to stand first on the list. It is a perfect nuisance; and it is doubted if any way to expel them has been discovered, except by manipulation. Even in this northern land they appear to have inhabited sand hills from time immemorial, and would seem to be now on the increase; but on heavy loams, - which constitute, perhaps, nine-tenths of this vast region, -! think they have not been observed. This exemption we ought to prize very highly, and it gives us advantages over the south. If a few of our roses, such as the Chromatella, are prevented by our climate from assuming the habit of a tree, it is consoling to know that none in all our collections on heavy soils will be defaced by the rose bug.

We are far north for some kinds of the grape, such as the Bland, Isabella, Catawba, and Alexandria - for though they ripen here, and are good, they attain marc sweetness in the south. Others are very excellent. Mildew, however, is often a great drawback in wet seasons; and there is a mystery about this malady that I profess not to understand, - for W. Wilson, of Clermont, elevated the Sweet Water on poles twenty feet high, and had fair fruit, while on the contrary, I prostrated mine, with equal success. In a dry summer, the whole crop, high, low, or mid-way, escapes; but when we have frequent rains, there appears to be a zone in which mildew prevails, contracting or expanding according to the weather; and I have seen where it approached within one foot of the ground. I dislike the trellis, but I had one near which an exotic vine sent up a shoot, crossing a bar three feet high, and bending down on the opposite side. The next year was bad for mildew, Such grapes as grew near the roof, however, were fair; and so were those where the top of the stem rested on the ground: while the intermediate portion, only two or three feet high, were blighted and ruined.

Some years ago, it was recommended to remove a part of the main leaves, so as to let in the son on the fruit; and though I knew that these were important appendages - that in them the sap was elaborated - and that no fruit could be well-flavored without them - yet I knew not but a part might be spared to advantage, and tried the experiment. It proved to be a wet season, and they were ruinously mildewed. Afterwards, I thought the leaves would have been useful in turning off the rain. Grapes under a roof, have been fair in the worst seasons; and it has been proposed to give them a south aspect under a shed, only two or three feet wide, with a close back. Such a structure would afford reflected heat, repel the cold winds from the north, and keep the fruit dry while the rain was nourishing the roots.

I have no recollection of having seen a mildewed grape where the vine was supported by a live tree. Ten years ago I had a Burgundy that spread over a bush only eight or nine feet high, and the fruit was always fair; but two years ago, it was raised on a pole to the height of sixteen or eighteen feet, and ever since mildew has ruined the whole of them.

[To be Continued]