296 



THE GARDENER'S MONTHL T 



[October, 



would send one dozen seedling tubers for $1.00. 

 Here was the very chance I had been waiting 

 for. And all for one dollar ! One could afford 

 to experiment at that price. I sent at once and 

 received them safely by mail. The last of March 

 I put them in a box of earth and set them on a 

 shelf, in a common living-room. They very soon 

 came up, and about the middle of May I trans- 

 planted them into a nicely-prepared bed in the 

 garden. Since then they have fairly run wild in 

 growth and flower. They are now about fifteen 

 inches high and very bushy. They have been 

 literally covered with bloom since they were 

 two inches high — and such flowers ! No one of 

 them is less than an inch and a half long ; some 

 more ; and wider than long when fully expanded. 

 The colors are exquisite — crimson, carmine, sal- 

 mon, pink, orange, and vermillion— and look 

 more like wax than real live flowers. I have 

 taken the precaution to shade them a few hours 

 during the middle of our hottest days, by an 

 awning of coarse cloth secured to stakes at the 

 four corners. Perhaps they would have done 

 equally as well without. I only know that I am 

 satisfied — and more than satisfied — with them as 

 they are, and consider it the best invested dollar 

 I ever spent. 



NICHT BLOOMING CEREUS. 



BY J. G. B. K., LOVETTSVILLE, VA. 



Herewith I send you an article on the Night 

 Blooming Cereus, which strikes me as a beauti- 

 ful tribute to that singular flower, and which, I 

 think, would be very appropriate in the columns 

 of the Gardener's Monthly. The plant re- 

 ferred to was sold by us, and we have never 

 been able to learn the name of the variety ; and 

 as it has produced such a sensation in Missouri, 

 I would like to know what it is. 



The Missouri Statesman^ speaking of the fa- 

 mous Cereus Grandiflorus, or Night Blooming 

 Cactus, says : 



This species of Night Blooming Cereus is not 

 uncommon, but the specimen recently imported 

 from Virginia by Mrs. Gen. Conway is very un- 

 like any we ever saw or heard of; not in the size 

 or surpassing beauty of its flowers or its singular 

 repugnance to light and long life, but in its lack 

 of the Cactus channelled and jointed columnar 

 and leafless prickly stem. Mrs. Conway's is a 

 shrub of several trunks, four and five feet high, 

 with thick, deep green leaves, the inexplicable 

 and remarkable fact being that the flower is pen- 

 dant from the edge of the leaves and not from 



the stem. One night last week the plant bloomed, 

 and during the fleeting hours in which it displayed 

 its remarkable beauties, hundreds of people vis- 

 ited it but to wonder and admire. 



A correspondent furnishes the following po- 

 etical description of it : 



The sunshine of summer, 



Its breezes and showers 

 Had decked all the landscape 



With verdure and flowers; 

 Giving hue to the eye, did its 



Brightness disclose; 

 From the lily's soft tint 



To the blush of the rose. 



The scene was resplendent, 



Unrivaled its bloom — 

 Nor could blossoms of Eden 



More sweetly perfume— 

 Every emulous flower did 



Its beauties display, 

 And all nature was clad 



In her richest array. 



Yet one virgin blos.som. 



All charming and bright, 

 Its loveliness modestly hid 



From the light. 

 Like a gem in a casket 



'Twas closely enshrined. 

 Avoiding the sun 



And the gaze of mankind. 



But a moment 'tis destined 



To flourish on earth. 

 Brief emblem of excellence, 



Virtue and worth ; 

 And of love, too, which 



Planted by destiny's dart. 

 Blooms, but in seclusion ; 



Its shrine is the heart. 



When the bright orb of day 



Had retired to rest. 

 And the crimson-tinged cloud 



Disappeared from the West, 

 The night-blooming plant did 



Its blossoms unfold, 

 With the pureness of snow 



And the lustre of gold. 



With a taper I stole through 



The gloom of the night, 

 And gazed on its delicate 



Charms with delight. 

 But the chaste flower seem'd 



Conscious intrusion was near. 

 For I found every petal 



SufiFus'd with a tear. 



Yes, tear-drops of dew did 



The blossom adorn, 

 And in beauty it wept 



'Till the splendor of morn ; 

 When, like loveliness drooping, 



It hastily dies. 

 While its tears and its 



Fragrance escape to the skies. 



[We give the extract sent by our correspond- 

 ent, poetry and all, though beyond a smoothness 



