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The Weekly Florists' Review. 



MARCH 24, 1S9S. 



is heated it loses weight due to this 

 hygroscopic water, as it is termed, be- 

 ing driven off. To be sure it will soon 

 absorb this invisible liquid, but the 

 fact is shown that what seems dry is 

 tar from lacking in water. 



The amount of the invisible water 

 that gives the soil a moist feel, varies 

 gnatly, depending upon the character 

 of the soil. Soils differ much in tex- 

 ture and composition, all the way from 

 pure sand to vegetable mould. The 

 sand is quickly saturated, possibly 

 twenty-five per cent of its weight is all 

 that will be retained without leakage, 



while upon the other hand a soil 

 abounding in vegetable matter may 

 hold twice its weight of water. The 

 former is leachy, and quickly dries out. 

 The latter is like a sponge and takes 

 up and holds large quantities of liquid. 

 The addition of a small amount of 

 humus to a sand will double its water 

 holding capacity, while upon the other 

 hand the mixing of sand with a peaty 

 soil will render it more open and less 

 retentive of moisture, 



BYRON D. HALSTED. 

 Rutgers College. 



THE PRODIGAL RETURNS. 



Life is full of mysteries, and the 

 manner in which Jaggs squared him- 

 self with the irate proprietor of the 

 Lonesomehurst greenhouses remains 

 one of them. All that could be learned 

 was that "the old man" returned from 

 New York one afternoon, accompanied 

 by Jaggs, who wore an air of chasten- 

 ed meekness and the Scotch propaga- 

 tor's Sunday coat, the remainder of the 

 suit of "blacks," having apparently 

 journeyed to that bourne from whence 

 Jaggs' overcoats rarely returned. The 

 current opinion was that the boss had 

 insisted that Jaggs should return to 

 adorn Lonesomehurst long enough to 

 work out the money obtained by his 

 operations, being well aware that, so 

 long as he was not paid, the culprit 

 would be hardworking and contented. 

 Jaggs was a shining example of the 

 deceitfulness of riches. The prodigal 

 did not appear at supper, and the 

 men had been grouped in the potting- 

 shed for some time before he saunter- 

 ed in, bearing a lop-sided gates-ajar 

 and a couple of wreath frames. Nod- 



ding affably to his audience, he re- 

 marked: "Better get to work stemmin' 

 alyssum, some o' you chaps. Here's 

 another o' them bloomin' cold meat 

 jobs, and the boss says as we're shy 

 on McGowans." 



The western fireman, who was not 

 troubled with shyness, voiced the sen- 

 timents of the entire force by remark- 

 ing: "Say, Jaggs, that was a hot 

 touch you give the old man. How did 

 you square yourself?" 



There was no reply to this observa- 

 tion and a somewhat embarrassing 

 pause was broken by a request from 

 Jaggs for the loan of Davie's apron 

 and overalls. "Might as well lend me 

 your dish-habilly, old man, so as I 

 won't soil your Sunday clothes afore I 

 takes 'em off." 



"My Sawbath claes!" interjected the 

 indignant Davie, "Ye went awa' wi' 

 a decent suit o' blacks, and see what 

 ye come back in!" 



The garments to which Davie point- 

 ed with righteous anger were rough 

 tweeds of a subdued mustard color, 

 the pattern being such a vociferous 

 plaid that it awakened the embarras- 



sing suspicion that the wearer might 

 be wandering around in his pajamas. 

 Jaggs patted Davie soothingly on the 

 shoulder, remarking: "You needn't 

 get hot, old chap. The only trouble 

 with them togs o' yours was as they 

 wasn't professional. See a florist go- 

 in' around in a black suit, and every- 

 body thinks as he's nothink but a 

 crape chaser. Ain't none o' you chaps 

 got a pipeful o' "baccy?" 



The needed tobacco was not forth- 

 coming until the advent of Tommy At- 

 kins, who had been resting himself 

 after the arduous duties of the day by 

 taking the boss's fox terrier down to 

 the barn for a rat hunt. "Ullo, old 

 chap; 'ow's mermaids?" was his salute 

 as he seated himself on the edge of 

 the bench, and began to trim the 

 brown edges off a dubious calla. 



"Don't you get prunin' that there 

 calla too much," advised Jaggs. "Flow- 

 ers is flowers, this dark weather, and 

 I've only got a pair o' rocky old Har- 

 risii to give style to this here blessed 

 old jail door. There's a nice lot o' 

 Eucharis comin' on, only it 'ud be 

 throwin' pearls before swine to use 

 'em for any chump as 'ud be guilty of 

 orderin' a gates ajar." 



Tommy dropped the calla, and be- 

 gan to stem white azaleas with much 

 dexterity, occasionally humming a line 

 or two of "My Old Dutch" in the liquid 

 accents of Whitechapel. Finally he 

 remarked: 



"Well, Jaggs, you ain't told us yet 

 why you chuck up the mermaid busi- 

 ness. Is the market weak on flyin' 

 dragons?" 



"Dragons is all right, and mermaids 

 is all right," responded Jaggs. "But 

 it ain't a business for a chap as was 

 brought up pious-like; you runs up 

 against such a lot o' doubtful charac- 

 ters. There was one chap as used to 

 supply sturgeon for buildin' mermaids 

 — if you'd heard some o' the fish sto- 

 ries he tell you'd 'a' been shocked — I 

 was myself." 



"I should think you would be," ob- 

 served the horticultural graduate who 

 was now sufficiently educated to stem 

 alyssum without calling forth any sar- 

 castic comments. "You told me once 

 about a place where you worked in 

 Arkansas, and how you baited two 

 miles of barbed wire fence with salt 

 pork, just before the spring freshet, 

 and caught 47 tons of catfish. What 

 did you do with those catfish, by the 

 way?" 



"Sold 'em to a firm as makes pure 

 Norwegian cod-liver oil," returned 

 Jaggs, with a joyous wink, "But talk- 

 in' about fish, the rummest trip I ever 

 took was in Ceylon, where they goes 

 fishin' with a shot-gun." 



"I reckon as I've 'card o' that," ob- 

 served Tommy Atkins, with a com- 

 prehensive stage wink which took in 

 the entire audience. "That's where 

 hoysters grows on trees, ain't it and 

 the flyin' fish goes fiittin' through the 

 branches, along o' the dear little dicky 

 birds?" 



"I like to hear Tommy talkin' about 

 the dicky birds, he's so bloomin' po- 



