102 THE FLOEIST AND POMOLOGIST. [MAY, 



I generally grow a few of the newest kinds, as well as all the good old 

 varieties, and I find that, as a late Broccoli, Waterloo is quite distinct from all 

 I have hitherto grown. This enhances its value, inasmuch as it fills up a most 

 important gap in the supplies, before Cauliflowers are ready for cutting. Let me, 

 then, advise all who value a good late protecting Broccoli, to secure a packet of 

 the Waterloo, for I feel confident it will not disappoint them. 



Wrotham Park, Barvet. John Edlington. 



DOMESTIC AIDS TO GARDEN CULTURE. 



■f[pj^0 sooner did men become aware of the danger of allowing sewage to be 

 ((gfii/ lifted into the air as noted at p. 92, than they decided to cast it into the 

 f^ water. Convinced of the danger of polluting the atmosphere, they jumped 

 ^ to the conclusion that their safety lay in fouling the rivers ; and the 

 great ocean of waters was thenceforth contaminated in two ways. The first was 

 by sending the sewage down into the earth. Immense dead wells, or cesspools, 

 were formed, from which the dirty water percolated into the springs, polluting 

 our drinking fountains at their hidden sources deep down in the bowels of the 

 earth. This practice is still very generally adopted both in town and country, 

 and a more murderous disposition of sewage could not be devised by the greatest 

 foe of the human race. It is simply poisoning our wells on a gigantic scale, and 

 when we attempt to draw from them the pure water of life, we get a death-potion, 

 prepared by our own ignorance and folly. 



But running water has been made man's great scavenger for the removal of 

 sewage and other impurities. Every running stream and brimming rivulet rushes 

 forth to convict man of folly and cruelty in compelling them, the great emblems 

 of purity, to do penance as the removers of filth. The river leaps forth from its 

 mountain home pure, bright, and sparkling as sunny childhood. It is instantly 

 seized hold of by man, tortured through machinery, tormented with mills and 

 paddle-wheels, cut into shreds by boats and ships,, forced to pass among myriads 

 of filthy rags, rubbed through labyrinths of soiled linen, and scrubbed over 

 acres of dirty floors, degraded to the rank of a common maid-of-all-work, and 

 finally driven down to its great home in the ocean, laden with the filth of a 

 village, a kingdom, or a continent. Fortunately for us, part of this dirt is de- 

 posited on the journey ; for being heavier than water, it falls to the bottom, and 

 is covered over with gravel, sand, or clean earth, — all good deodorizers, that render 

 the dangerous deposit comparatively innocuous. But every sudden increase of 

 volume in the water threatens to restir the offensive mass, and revive its 

 noxious elements into new life. Besides, very much of the sewage is soluble in 

 water, which therefore becomes impregnated with it, and thus disease and death 

 follow in the track of our running waters. Instead of being what they were 

 intended, health-filled arteries of cleanliness and purity, the impure water which 



