AN ORCHID FARM. 193 
orchids are cultivated up and down by private 
persons. Our friend has a client who keeps his 
stock of O. crispum alone at ten thousand; but 
others, less methodical, may have more. 
Opposite the door is a high staging, mounted 
by steps, with a gangway down the middle and 
shelves descending on eitherhand. Those shelves 
are crowded with fine plants of the glorious 
O. crispum, each bearing one or two spikes of 
flower, which trail down, interlace, arch upward. 
Not all are in bloom ; that amazing sight may be 
witnessed for a month to come—for two months, 
with such small traces of decay as the casual visitor 
would not notice. So long and dense are the 
wreaths, so broad the flowers, that the structure 
seems to be festooned from top to bottom with 
snowy garlands. But there is more. Overhead 
hang rows of baskets, lessening in perspective, with 
pendent sprays of bloom. And broad tables which 
edge the walls beneath that staging display some 
thousands still, smaller but not less beautiful. A 
sight which words could not portray. I yield in 
despair. 
The tillage of the farm is our business, and 
there are many points here which the amateur 
should note. Observe the bricks beneath your 
feet. They have a hollow pattern which retains 
O 
