CURSORY REMARKS ON THE TULIP. 59 



aggregate, occupy more than twelve or fourteen pages — a space which 

 I for one would be happy to see devoted to so desirable an object. 

 » It is true that this plan would, like the dahlia catalogues of the 

 present day, soon undermine the demand for worthless and even 

 middling varieties ; but what of that? The trade would not suffer 

 by it, as the demand for the really good kinds would be sure to rise 

 in proportion, and no purchaser would then have it in his power to 

 say he had been imposed on, and that he had purchased roots which 

 to him were valueless. He would select from the catalogues what 

 the descriptions told him were the sorts that would actually suit his 

 purpose ; he would order accordingly, and thus be spared from ex- 

 periencing the bitter feelings of vexation and disappointment. Mutual 

 confidence would thus arise between the seller and purchaser, and 

 the utmost good feeling would be the result. 



The young tulip cultivator is, not unfrecpiently, disappointed at 

 finding that some of his largest bulbs, on which he was relying for 

 good blooms, produce overgrowths ; that is, flowers containing seven, 

 eight, or even so far as ten petals. This most frequently happens 

 when the bulbs get very old, and have attained a large size. To the 

 young florist, therefore, whose stock is small, and who will naturally 

 be anxious to increase the number of his bulbs, it may be of some 

 importance to know that if such flowers be cut down pretty near the 

 bottom of each stem as soon as the flowers are sufficiently formed to 

 show that they are going to turn out overgrowth, the old bulbs will 

 be sure cither to throw off several offsets, or to divide themselves 

 each into two or three moderately sized bulbs, which, in a year or two, 

 will be sure to bloom to his satisfaction. This discovery was made 

 from a misfortune which happened to some favourites in my own 

 bed some years ago, and which was considered a great loss at the 

 time; but it turned out to be a great boon afterwards, and confirms 

 the truth of the poet's words, where he says, that misfortune, 



'■' Though like the toad, ugly, and venomous, 

 Wears yet a precious jewel in its head."' 



So it proved to me. I lost my blooms that season, but was amply 



repaid when I took up my roots by the unexpected increase of my 



stock, and have since, invariably acted upon the plan of cutting down 



all overgrowths, for the purpose of propagating the kinds. I mention 



this fact for the benefit of younger cultivators than myself, as all 



