58 THE GARDENER. [Feb. 



FORCING AND FUEL. 



To the forcing gardener the past two months have been both heart and 

 head aching, heartaching because of the heavy coal bill which, week 

 after week, is running up, and then "per contra/' the serious reflection, 

 what is the result going to be 1 The probable result will be capable of 

 close calculation by a few more weeks ; early Grapes and Peaches to a 

 certainty even now. But what will each Peach have cost, and what 

 will be the paying price of each pound of Grapes % These are ques- 

 tions which weigh on the heart of many a gardener, for employers will 

 often ask the pertinent question, What have the coals been burned for 1 

 These two months have also been headaching because of the heavy 

 balance between a temperature of 60° in houses, and 20°, or even 10° 

 out-doors, with sunless skies, and consequent etiolation of all active 

 vegetation, anxieties of setting, and thinning, and thrips — anxieties by 

 night and day. 



Once on a time early Grapes, Peaches, or Strawberries from one's 

 own hothouses in May was an achievement, a sort of triumph, a rare 

 thing indeed, and he was a happy and successful man who accomplished 

 the feat ; the forcing of fruits was then the luxury of labour, an ele- 

 gant pastime, and everybody was pleased because the garden was not 

 pressed into the category of life's necessities. But in these latter days 

 no gardener or employer dreams of forcing fruits or flowers merely for 

 the pleasure of the thing, and ripe Grapes, Strawberries, or Peaches 

 in March are no achievement at all ; but the man who undertakes those 

 duties and fails, is himself a failure, and a useless fellow. The gardener 

 who wishes to make himself a reputation must do the impossible, or what 

 is next to it. Early Grapes in January have long ago been achieved, now 

 Strawberries all the year round seems rising above the practical horizon. 

 The first pound of tea was a royal luxury, now it is the pauper's neces- 

 sity of life. Franklin amused himself by fetching lightning from the 

 clouds with a bit of wet cord, now lightning itself has become a neces- 

 sity of our lives ; we now amuse ourselves with " phones " of various 

 sorts, as the great American did with his string, but by-and-by some 

 enterprising firm will be turning the thunder into a necessity. Forc- 

 ing-houses have apparently reached their climax, and must be super- 

 seded ; they have served their day and purpose by bringing a coveted 

 and vastly distant climate and its products to our doors, now the dis- 

 tance has been annihilated, we can easily go to the climate and fetch 

 its products. Shall we continue to keep zoological gardens and botanic 

 gardens, the necessity for which seems to be vanishing, or shall we 

 spend our holidays among the beasts and plants in their native habi- 

 tats 1 — it really seems as if it were coming to that. Already we are 

 giving up the cultivation of the Pine-Apple, and really, with all those 

 heaps of red-cheeked Baldwins and yellow Newtown Pippins in our street 

 windows, we may economically give up our orchards. The bulk of 



