PLANTING OF A FERN CASE. 



BY SHIRLEY HIBBERD. 



Having been kindly invited to become 

 a contributor to the " Floral World," 

 I open my budget with an account of a 

 Fern Vase, as a subject peculiarly in- 

 teresting at a season of the year when 

 in-door horticulture haspeculiar attrac- 

 tions. There is, perhaps, no department 

 of domestic plant-culture more in need 

 of elucidation, than that of fern growing, 

 and the use of Wardian cases, for 

 the Filices are daily growing more 

 popular; every lover of plants gives 

 some attention to them ; they figure 

 largely at flower shosvs, both as ob- 

 jects of competition, and as means of 

 decorating the tables, and the day may 

 not be far distant, when societies, de- 

 signed expressly to encourage the 

 culture of Ferns, will be as successful, 

 and their shows as attractive, as are 

 those devoted to other special classes 

 of subjects — as the dahlia, or chrysan- 

 themum for instance. The engraving 

 which accompanies this article, re- 

 presents a Fern Vase, which was fitted 

 expressly for experimental purposes, 

 and among the large number of similar 

 contrivances which have furnished 

 me with Fern experiences, not one has 

 proved so successful as this, either for 

 beauty of effect, the flourishing condi- 

 tion of the plants, or its comparative 

 cheapness, all things considered. 



The vase is an example of a mate- 

 rial, known as " Ransome's Patent 

 Siliceous Stone," the invention of which 

 has set at rest for ever, the long vexed 

 question of a substitute for stone. 

 Strictly speaking, this is not a substi- 

 tute at all, but a real stone artificially 

 made ; and as an example of the appli- 

 cation of science to the amenities of life, 

 it takes one of the highest places among 

 the inventions of this present century. 

 It may not be known to every reader 

 of these pages, that many famous kinds 

 of building stone, are, by their consti- 

 tution, utterly unfit for architectural 

 purposes, where durability is required. 

 The bath-stone, of which many of 

 our finest buildings are constructed, 

 proves itself unequal to the attacks of 



time. The alternating temperatures of 

 our climate, and, especially, the rapid 

 changes from damp to frost, and then 

 to drying winds during winter, steadily 

 operate to its disintegration ; the deli- 

 cate sculptured tracings lose their 

 sharpness, the whole surface gets ab- 

 raded, and in time, "the beauty of 

 the fashion of it perisheth," and Nature 

 asserts her ancient supremacy over Art. 

 If the truth of this is made manifest in 

 the case of such buildings as West- 

 minster Abbey, or even in the fine 

 Portland stone used in the construction 

 of St. Paul's, in each of which, deci- 

 sive evidences of decay have long been 

 visible, how much more may we expect 

 ambitious works to yield to those at- 

 mospheric influences, which not even 

 granite is utterly proof against. Now, 

 if we were to bring an artificially com- 

 pounded stone into competition with 

 real Portland, or Bath, or Cragleith, or 

 Darley Wold stone, we should submit 

 it to the severest possible test ; and, 

 strange to saj-, ,the invention of Ran- 

 some bears such a test with impunity, 

 and, for many reasons, maybe described 

 as superior to any natural stone ever 

 used for decorative purposes. 



Let it be understood that the chief 

 cause of the decay of masonry is the 

 presence in the material of certain in- 

 gredients on which the atmosphere has 

 a decided influence. Take a stone com- 

 posed chiefly of silica and lime, expose 

 it to the weather, and the acid, soot, and 

 the natural moisture of the atmosphere, 

 will soon crumble it to powder, because, 

 of all earthy substances, those of a cal- 

 careous origin have the most powerful 

 affinities for the principles presented to 

 them by the atmosphere. 1 remember, 

 some fifteen years ago, seeing, for the 

 first time, the picturesque cliffs of 

 magnesian limestone, which confront 

 the sea, along the coast of Northumber- 

 land, and which, at Sunderland, yield 

 large plates of flexible stone, which 

 bend as freely as whalebone, and which 

 are even difficult to break, on account 

 of their toughness while kept damp. 



