Jnno 15, 1876. 1 



JOUBNAIi OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 



473 



sible that the Maidenhair abonnfla in some looalitiea where it 

 has never yet been discovered. It oftuu grows iu inaccessible 

 Bitnations, and this fact would give a reason for the supposition 

 which we have started. Rocks on or near the seaooast and 

 dripping sea-caves are its favourite habitats. 



" The Maidenhair baa a black, hairy, creeping caudex of slender 

 shape, from which arc thrown up a mass of the most beautiful 

 and delicate fronds. The stems of the froads are more like 

 thick hairs than the stems of a plant. The general outline of 

 the frond is lance-like. Its leugth varies from (J inches to a 

 foot, but sometimes under couditions peculiarly favourable to 

 its growth it reaches a length of more than a foot. The stem 

 is about halt the length of the entire frond. Then commences 

 the rachis, on each side of which in irregular alternation are 

 thrown out the branches — if they may be so called^ of the 

 frond. These branches, black and shining, are like lesser hairs, 

 and to them are fastened on each side iu irregular order the 

 delicate fan-shaped leaflets of an exquisite shade of green. The 

 leaflets are fastened to the branches of the frond by short, hair- 

 like filaments black and shining somewhat like the stem and 

 branches, but thinner and more delicate. Tiie spores of the 

 Maidenhair are borne at the back and on the edge of the leaflets, 

 the margin of which is folded back to cover them, thus losing 

 its green colour and becoming blanched. 



" It is the fortune of few Fern-lovers to see the Maidenhair 

 growing iu its wild habitats. But as a cultivated plant it is 

 not rare, for like all our Ferns the myriads of seeds which each 

 plant bears favour its extensive propagation. Artificially grown 

 it will in warm, moist, and sheltered situations live and thrive 

 in the open-air rockery. But its excessively delicate nature 

 requires peculiar care, and renders it more especially adapted 

 for indoor cultivation. And to grow it successfully indoors 

 especial attention must be given to its requirements. It can- 

 not bear the sudden changes in temperature to which the atmo- 

 sphere of some sitting-rooms is subject. When there is an 

 equable temperature maintained and the air is not too dry, as 

 for instance in rooms which are not constantly inhabited, there 

 the Maidenhair will thrive in pots in the proper soil without 

 any covering; but otherwise a covering of glass is essential, so 

 as to keep around the plant a perpetual moisture. With such a 

 covering it will revel in the warmth of inhabited rooms and 

 become a delightful companion for the Fern-lover, distilling on 

 the points of its fronds the dewdrops of its prison. A light 

 soil suited to the delicate nature of the plant must be provided 

 for the Maidenhair. Mix peat and silver sand together, the 

 former predominating, and in the mixture let there be some 

 broken pieces of limestone or sandstone. Or, if you will, imbed 

 in the soil two large pieces of limestone or sandstone ; put them 

 near together; fill up the interstice with some of the soil you 

 have prepared, and plant the delicate rhizome of the Maidenhair 

 between. The pot or case in which it is grown you should half 

 fill with broken pieces of stone or flower pot, intermingled with 

 a few pieces of charcoal to keep them sweet. Then upon this 

 mixture of flower pot and charcoal place the peat and silver 

 sand, and thereon plant your Fern. If you have a wiudow in 

 which no sun shines you may there suspend your Maidenhair 

 in the half shell of a cocoa nut; but holes must be bored in 

 the bottom of the shell, so that when you occasionally dip it 

 and its beautiful occupant in water the superabundant moisture 

 may drain away, for remember that Ferns cannot endure soil 

 rendered unwholesome by stagnant water. The moisture which 

 they need must be fresh and pure. The exceptional delicacy of 

 the Maidenhair requires exceptional care ; but do not forget that 

 for all the care which you bestow upon it, it will repay you by 

 assuming in its adopted home the freshest and most delicate 

 shade of delightful green, and the most delicate of graceful 

 forms." 



EFFECTS OF EXTREME HEAT AND COLD 

 ON VEGETATION. 



The possibility of gradually accustoming tender plantu to 

 withstand a more rigorous climate than that to which they 

 are indigenous has long baen a favourite pursuit with our 

 clever horticultural neighbours the French, who have or had 

 a garden devoted to the furtherance of this particular object — 

 a garden of acclimatisation. Whether or not any plant was 

 ever trained to resist frost, which could not face it before, we 

 are not in a position to say. That very many species of plants 

 will live and thrive in association, within certain limits of tem- 

 perature, every garden iu this country will testify. Hardy 

 Conifers alone come from every corner of the globe, and so far 

 they may be said to be acclimatised, but sudden extremes of 

 heat or cold dispel the illuaiou. The Potato is a plant which 

 has been coaxed and gently persuaded to bear frost for a con- 

 siderable period of time and on a large scale in these islands, 

 yet still it is as tender as ever. The attempt to acclimatise 

 our English fruits and vegetables by residents abroad in 



various foreign countries have also ended in similar failure, 

 since we often hear of despairing endeavours to obtain a dish of 

 Strawberries or Gooseberries from the cherished plants, which, 

 however, are exhausted by their etiolation. Yet some of our 

 English plants and animals when introduced to new homes 

 find the climate bo much more favourable that they threaten 

 to crowd out the native plants and animals. For instance, 

 horses and thistles in Australia, English pigs and weeds in 

 New Zealand ; and many other instances might be cited. A 

 high tropical heat, while it has the effect of exciting plants 

 from a temperate climate into a rampant growth which ends 

 iu exhaustion, will have the opposite effect on others, causing 

 them to go naturally to rest, to be aroused only by the advent 

 of cooler and moister influences. Many of the inmates of our 

 stoves will assume this stagnant resting condition during the 

 heat of summer, and show a disposition to fresh growth with 

 the cool moist nights of autumn, as if coolness was tha 

 signal for the tropical plant to commence growth after the hot 

 resting season. We practically reverse this natural rule by 

 forcing our plauts into growth by heat after the cool of winter. 

 The approaching cold of autumn and winter is, however, tha 

 signal for our indigenous deciduous plants to put on the 

 yellow leaf, sometimes very suddenly, and go to rest. From 

 all these signs the practical cultivator should take lessons. 

 The profundity of the sleep or rest which various plants take 

 under the winter's cold varies in degree, as can be seen by 

 their earlier or later wakening iu spring, and by the more or 

 less inactivity of the roots. Some become so dormant as to 

 appear paralysed, and will die without any of the usual appa- 

 rent outward effects of frost. A very few degrees of tempera- 

 ture hold the balance between life and death with many of 

 our regular hardy plants ; indeed it is the last degree, like the 

 last straw, which breaks the camel's back. A curious instance 

 of this is just under our notice. An old plant of Cassia 

 corymbosa, which made growth as thick as one's finger 

 against a wall, and 10 feet long last summer, is killed nearly 

 down to the ground ; but the portion of one branch next the 

 wall, for half its diameter, is living, while the other half out- 

 wards is dead. Clianthns puniceus by its side is safe, except 

 twigs which project a few inches from the wall, neither being 

 protected iu any way. Some plants of Azalea indica, planted 

 out two years iu the open shrubbery, and which flowered last 

 summer, exhibit the same narrow limit between life and 

 death. A few varieties have had the bark blistered off aU 

 along the stem, while the foliage has apparently protected the 

 branches. Other varieties have resisted the cold and look 

 uninjured. 



During the severe frost of the winter of 1869 which killed 

 so many shrubs throughout the country, it was a common 

 phenomenon to find the bark severed from the wood in 

 blisters as if exposed to fire, notably in the instance of 

 Portugal Laurels and Sweet Bays, the effect being to all 

 appearance the same. The injuries inflicted on plants by 

 frost are generally well recognised, because anticipated : the 

 shoots are nipped, the bark is blistered, or the whole plant is 

 killed to the ground. Injuries from excessive heat are not so 

 apparent. Some moisture-loving plants, like Rhododendrons, 

 whether dry or not at the root, will become permanently para- 

 lysed and dried up, so that further growth is checked, and the 

 plant recovers its equilibrium by pushing up young growth 

 from the roots. Fruit trees against walls are often exposed to 

 excessive heat. They are, as it were, between two fires — the 

 heat of the wall behind, and the sun's heat in front. Perma- 

 nent injury must follow, especially if they suffer from a defi- 

 ciency of moisture at the root, which is not observed until 

 the following season. The Apricot, Peach, and Plum, we are 

 satisfied, suffer iu this way ; and the dying-off of their 

 branches is quite as much to be attributed to this cause as 

 to the effect of frost iu winter. We have reason to believe 

 that this dying of the branches of the Apricot is more common 

 in the south than iu the north, and on light dry soils than 

 on clays. A hot sun pouring his rays directly on an Apricot 

 tree, with its load of soft evaporating foliage, must make it a 

 very severe trial to the roots and stems of the tree to find. 

 and convey sufficient moisture to keep them in health. The 

 foliage we often sea weltering under the sun's influence, and 

 the branches must often be very dry, the bark clinging to the 

 wood ; and if a period ensues when the moisture at the root 

 fails in sufiicient quantity to supply the demand, and more- 

 over to enable the tree to elaborate and complete ripeness for 

 another season, exhaustion must be the result, a weak bloom 

 iu spring, and feeble setting of the fruit, permanent injury 



