412 



JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 



[ November U, 1965. 



5, Beorre Bosc; 6, Vernlnm ; 7, Bcurre de Ranee; 9, Vicar of 'Winkfield ; 

 10, Easter Beui-re ; 11, CatUlac; 12, Winter Nelis. (H. P.).— The Appli 

 you call Donegal Pippin is BrouKkton. (G. Bunyard). — 2, Triomphe dt 

 Jodoigne ; 3, Bernre Bbinc des Capucins; 4, not known; 5, Cobham: 

 6, Nelson Codlin. {Pom). — Pears: l.Catillac ; 2, C'baumontcl; 4, Triompbt 

 de Jodoigne. Apples: 1, Drnp d'Or; 2, Manks Codlin; 3, Coe's Golden 

 Drop ; 6, Brookes' ; 8, Nonpareil ; 10, Ord's ; 1*2, Cobham ; 13. Surrey Flat- 

 Capj 16, Koyal Russet ; 19, Golden Russet; 20, Scarlet Russet; 21,Feam's ; 



22, HoUandbnry; 23, Rnsset Nonpareil 24, Reinette de Canada. {Z. A.).— 

 1, Winter Nelis; 5, EelUssime d'Hivcr; 6, Beurre d'AremberR; 9, Passe 

 ''■ilmar; 11, Beurre Diel; 12, Napoleon; 14, Lewis; 19, Figue de Naples ; 

 2 ), Duo de Bordeaux ; 21, Chamnontel. 



Names of Plants {Alice). — \, Festuca mynrus; 2, Poa maritima? 

 starved ; 3, Festuca uniglnmis. {E. S.).— Statice Limonluna. {An Admirer 

 of The Journal of Horficuiiurf).— Cannabis sativa. 



METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS in the Subm*bs of Londou for the Week ending November 11th. 



POULTRY. BEE, and HOUSEHOLD CHRONICLE. 



LIGHT BRAHMAS AT CHILDOWN HALL, 

 SUREEY. 



There is no change from the country so thoronghly and en- 

 tirely a change as spending a few days in London. We country 

 parsons need it at times. We are apt to get narrow, to move 

 in too small an orbit, and to be unduly careful or troubled 

 about vHlage things aud village people. London widens one's 

 views, diverts one's thoughts, and completely shakes one out of 

 oneself. 



Thoroughly, then, do I enjoy a few days in the great metro- 

 polis ; I get out of the danger of merely vegetating, — I live. 

 " Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay," sings 

 Tennyson, and better to change the flow of thought to quicken 

 the blood, by being in Londou for awhile, than to be always in 

 cm- country homes, be they ever so pleasant. Still, art wearies 

 in time, often in a short time, but nature never wearies for long. 

 My eyes filled with London sights, my ears with London sounds, 

 satisfied, just sliort of satiated, I turn back to the country. 



A kind invitation lies before me to visit Mr. Pares at Chil- 

 down, and inspect his Light Erahmas. I will go ; more, I will 

 record my exjierience ; it will be but fair. I have seen and told 

 of " Y. B. A. Z.'s" dark beauties, I will see and tell of Mr. 

 Pares's light charmers. 



Gliding off from Waterloo station, out south-westward, my eye 

 catches sight of several pairs of fancy Pigeons on different 

 houses, some caged in, mostly Tumblers, I think. I will not 

 speak too certainly this time, remembering my mistake at Calne. 

 Mistakes ! who does not make them sometimes ? This reminds 

 me of my curate days. After one Sunday morning's service — 

 I had been reading prayers — my rector, one of the best and most 

 gentlemanly of men, but tidgetty when the gout was coming 

 on, said in the vestry, " Why, you made six mistakes in read- 

 ing ! " " Sorry," said I, " but I am not feeling well." In the 

 afternoon it was my rector's turn to read. He began the morn- 

 ing Psalms, aud read away to the end, the clerk reading his 

 verses from the evening P.salms ; the congregation was tittering. 

 It was now my turn. 1 said in the vestry, " Eector, you read 

 the wrong Psalms." " Ah ! well," said he, " 'tis a wonder we 

 do not make more mistakes." And so it is. 



Well, to return — on further until one catches sight of " Cler- 

 mont's terraced heights aud Esher's groves," as saith Thom- 

 son ; and now the character of Surrey is coming out every few 

 miles ; I see here and there scrubby bits of heath. Strange it is, 

 but yet I believe true, that close to London as is Surrey, yet, 

 there is more waste land in it than in any other county. But, 

 perhaps, this is well ; if the parks of London are its limgs, surely 

 additionally healthy for Londoners must be these large heathy 

 spaces in a county so near as Sui-rey. There, on the heath, the 

 air is uncontaminated, the same sharji clear ah' as in the days 

 when London contained but its half million of inhabitants. 

 Londoners, then, may thank God for the uncultivated wastes 

 in Surrey. On, creeping on, very slowly, I come to Chertsey 

 — no, only Weybridge. Further on to the right, flags and 

 groups of people. Oh ! I see, it is a ploughing match. The 



sturdy arms are steady as iron, and the furrows straight as 

 arrows. Well done, Surrey's sons, the best of all shares to hold 

 is the ploughshare. 



Chertsey at last ; but in a drenching rain, which pens us all, 

 and there are many, into the little station ; a heavy, heavy 

 shower. " Nature is paying her debts," says one near me. 

 Never mind the delay, it cannot be helped. Let me watch the 

 different characters around me, as revealed by this compelled 

 imprisonment. There is a gootUy number of English grumblers. 

 " Grumble and grow fat, happy Englishmen," said once a lively 

 son of France. Then there are the fidgets, poking their heads 

 out into the rain ever and anon. Then there are those two 

 yoimg ladies in the waiting-room, who are quite pleased with 

 the rain, for that waiting-room is to them, with that nice youth, 

 quite " a flirting-comer." Oh, it is the old, old story. But 

 grumblers, fidgets, flirts, you are not in my line. There sits 

 that delicate-looking lady, I fear a case of recent illness, whom 

 I had noticed huddling her cloak higher to her throat, and 

 glancing timidly at the open windows of the carriage, and now 

 sitting, evidently fearing a bad result from the rain. I will say 

 a kind word to you. Ah ! the rain is over, and there is my 

 host that is to be. My curiosity regarding his personal ap- 

 pearance is at an end now, and his curiosity at mine, if he had 

 an}', is also over. 



A drive through Chertsey — old quaint Chertsey, "a dead-alive 

 place," as I was told in the railway-train. Yet to me there is 

 a great degree of interest attached to all those little towns and 

 villages to the west of London, and on the Thames. As to 

 Chertsey, two names are connected with it in my mind. First, 

 Cowley's, the poet ; but who reads him now ? I suppose no one. 

 Artificial, yet learned, Cowley, your works cannot live, but your 

 name will — "Stat nominis umbra." There is Cowley's iouse, 

 part new, but one bit old : may that old bit never be taken down. 

 But there is another aud far greater name connected with 

 Chertsey, that of Charles James Fox, for close by is St. Ann's 

 Hill, that weU-wooded eminence where the great statesman was 

 wont to retiie, and live a purer life than his London life. 

 Rogers says of him — 



" Not less happy, Fox, than thee ! 

 Thee, at St. Ann's, so soon of care beguiled. 

 Playful, sincere, and artless as a child I 

 Thee, who would'st watch a bird's nest on a spray 

 Through the green leaves exploring, day by day ; 

 How oft from grove to grove, from seat to scat. 

 With thee conversing in thy loved retreat, 

 I saw the son go down 1" 



Poor Fox ! A great mind, an eloquent tongue, a heart fuU of 

 noble aspirations, but the life ended all ; as one said of him, 

 " The statue is imposing, but the pedestal leans." On to Chil- 

 down , rising higher aud higher, imtil we arrive at 



" A land of brown heath and shaggy wood." 



Y'es, actually within twenty-five miles of London here is a 

 country like that lying at the feet of the Scotch highlands, 

 such as I have seen in Kincardineshire. Heath, heather every- 

 where, with furze in patches ; then rising above is the beautiful 

 silver birch, most charming of highland trees ; and here and 

 there great belts of Scotch firs, with their brick red stems. 

 The picture I beheld was unique. I was, alas ! too late to see 



