AND HORTICULTURIST. 



87 



that it will not be long before electric light will 

 be of great service to horticulture, inasmuch as 

 it makes the gardener independent of climate and 

 season ; and, he adds, it might further lead to 

 the production of new varieties. What he has 

 obtained thus far, warranted him, he says, in 

 obtaining better and better results, as soon as he 

 learned the proper conditions of temperature 

 and the proper strength of light applied. He 

 will not let these experiments stand as mere 

 curiosities, but he will try to make them practi- 

 cally useful to agriculture. Here, of course, the 

 cost comes in and decides. To produce electric 

 light a motive power is required, putting in mo- 

 tion a dynamo-electrical machine yielding the 

 required electrical current. Where there is water 

 power, the cost will obviously be small. But the 

 cost of steam can also be reduced, if after having 

 done its work for the dynamo-electrical machine, 

 the steam were used to heat the greenhouses and 

 saved fuel there; otherwise daylight would be 

 equal to a positive loss. Again, the electro- 

 dynamic machine, used by night to produce 

 electric light, could in the daytime be used to 

 furnish power. The electrical current might be 

 directed through wires to various points on the 

 place and drive electro-dynamic machines for 

 various purposes, such as cutting wood, pumping 

 water, etc., perhaps also for threshing, mowing 

 and ploughing. These things are now done by 

 movable steam engines which require water and 

 fuel all the time, and also a skilful and careful 

 attendance, and are comparatively heavy. Elec- 

 tro-dynamic machines on the other hand are 

 comparatively light and are simply fed through 

 wires with electricity, produced at the central 

 station, and there less fuel is necessary to pro- 

 duce steam than in the open field. 



Thus electricity seems to claim a new field and 

 a promising" one in the development of our 

 civilization. 



FREMONTIA CALIFORNICA, AND A 

 HOWL. 



BY A COLLECTOR. 



Our Fremontia was once known as Cheiranth- 

 odendron Californicum. I revere the name of 

 the man who changed it. 



There are probably very few of your readers 

 who have ever seen the Fremontia in bloom ; 

 and when gathering its seeds in the fall, I almost 

 wish there were none of them who desired to do 

 so. Yet I wonder why there are no more who 

 undertake its cultivation. It cannot be very 



tender, for I find it growing so high upon the 

 mountains that no one attempts to raise any 

 sort of vegetables. Where it freezes every 

 month in the year, there it grows, in low bushes 

 three or four feet high. This is the highest lo- 

 cality I know of. Lower down it extends almost 

 to the level of the valley; one bush growing 

 near the mouth of Lytle Creek. A few miles 

 further up this stream it is in its glory ; large 

 spreading bushes, eight to tenjfeet high,Iclothed in 

 the spring, with dense masses of bloom, which so 

 thickly cover the twigs, that'one flower crowds 

 the next. From the ground to the summit one 

 mass of golden yellow flowers, scarcely a glimpse 

 of the little oak-shaped green leaves can be seen 

 through the glow or color. Its large flowers are 

 an inch or two across, and last quite a long time 

 in bloom. After the fading of the flower, comes 

 a long, pointed seed vessel, containing a few 

 small, black, hard, round seeds, with a little 

 golden-yellow dot at one end, where they grow 

 fast to the capsule, the outside and inside of 

 which is covered with a thick coating of short, 

 stiff, sharp hairs, that cause vexation to the 

 spirits, and itching to the skin of the collector. 

 In gathering the seed on a warm day, the irrita- 

 tion caused by these little prickles, is almost un- 

 endurable ; on cleaning the seed in the cooler 

 weather in the fall, I find the irritation much 

 less. 



Ah, the torments I have endured in gathering 

 Fremontia seed ! When arriving hot and sweaty 

 at the bush, you begin gathering carefully, cut^ 

 ting them off with a knife. This does well for a 

 time ; but'presently you strike your hand against 

 a twig full of them. How they sting— the villain- 

 ous things ! You become more reckless ; the 

 back of your hand is covered with their little 

 prickling points. Gathering with a knife is slow 

 work ; surely one can carefully gather them by 

 hand ; to be sure, that gets along faster. But 

 have I got the hives ; or what is this intolerable 

 stinging between the fingers in the tender skin 

 at the j unction with the hand ? Why, Fremontia 

 stings ! As I live by bread, I would almost as 

 soon be rolled in a nest of ants. And to cap 

 the climax, one or two get down the back of my 

 neck, leaving a long stinging trail as they roll 

 over and over on their long journey to my waist. 

 I never before knew my back was so long. 



My belief is that the first Fremontia was 

 white. A prehistoric'collector came along hunt- 

 ing for seed, began gathering ; and the more he 

 gathered, the hotter his temper got, until finally. 



