The writer of this was invited recently to look at a garden where, in the proprietor's language, "bad luck" prevailed. His ornamental trees, that had been "pounded in" when planted, died for all, and his fruit trees, both of "large" and "small" fruits, were a general failure. The gardener was a remarkably industrious man; and he had the happy faculty of knowing how to keep everything clean and neat around him, and he was a great favorite with his employer, as he deserved to be. But the best of us have a weakness, and his was, that as he had "served his time" in the famous gardens of Sir Bountiful Buncombe, of Buncombe Hall, he thought he "knew his business," and, to use a favorite expression of his, it was "'tarnal nonsense" to suggest that there was anything to learn from a book or a magazine.

Walking with the proprietor through his remarkably neat and well-kept garden and orchard, the first complaint was, that the standard pears all lost their leaves early in the summer, and on the leafless trees the fruit did not ripen, notwithstanding the good culture given by the gardener. The trees were dug under carefully and manure applied, but the conclusion came to was that the wrong sorts had been chosen. We ventured to point to a few large and healthy trees in a neighbor's fence corner, but had only for reply that the owner of that place was wholly ignorant of good gardening. The next trouble was with the dwarf pears; they grew amazingly, and flowered every spring profusely white as a snow bank with blossoms - but "a late frost or something" always destroyed them. The trees were carefully summer pruned, and growing shoots were cut back like osier blocks to the stumps from which they sprung. We started to say something about the influence of pruning on the vital forces, and the connection of the vital forces in starting the young fruit; but were cut short by the information that in Sir Bountiful's garden the great effort was to get all the spurs possible on a pear tree, and we could not have spurs without frequent prunings.

The apple orchard had been planted little more than fifteen years, but were commencing to die from some unaccountable reason. They had been remarkably well cultivated, and cared for; had grown well, fine leaves, borne remarkably good crops of fine fruit; but the trouble now was that the fruit easily rotted, the leaves in summer were golden and had powder all over them, and the short branches died back to the main wood. It was thought that the manure used was "too rank" and induced late growth. Sure enough there was an apple tree of much older growth in his stable yard, right in the midst of the rank manure, to which we called attention, but that was merely "some hardy kind that would stand any bad treatment." The grapes rotted, mildewed, and we don't know what, all for want of "proper selection of kinds adapted to the locality;" but again a grand vine with a stem as thick as one's arm, and also growing out at the end of the manure pile and covering hundreds of square feet of wall, was referred to, but that was only "a common Concord that would stand anything".

The worst complaints, however, were in regard to blackberries and raspberries. New kinds were continually being bought, to do well for a year or two, but finally to degenerate. One of his raspberry plantations of Cuthbert had been carefully tied to a cross rail about two feet from the ground. The space between the rows was carefully dug and kept clear the whole summer. This year the growth was not much more than a pipe-stem in thickness, and did not actually reach in many instances the cross-rail. The reason for the failure was, that Sir Andrew Somebody had shown nearly a hundred years ago, that varieties would surely wear out. It so happened that at the end of the raspberry rows was a place where grass from the lawn, weeds, and so forth, were thrown into a heap. Some of the raspberry suckers had reached to the boundary of this heap, and had canes four or five feet long, as thick as one's little finger, at ground, and large, healthy grassy-green leaves from the ground to the apex. Beyond the remark that it was "queer," no further thought seemed to be given to our reference to them.

Well, our readers know that to have fruit trees healthy and vigorous, in our hot and dry climate, the feeding roots must be encouraged to keep always at the surface. - but that we must take pains to keep that surface dark and cool. When they get this no ordinary manure will ever be too rank. The vital power will seldom meet with any unbearable strain, and we shall find under such practices that though the teaching at Sir Bountiful Buncombe's was excellent as far as it went, the experiences of an American climate may be added to the lessons of Buncombe Hall with great advantage.