Snowdrops 



tried many that looked like removable seedlings, it was 

 some time before I hit upon one that had not a root 

 fit for a pipe-factory with many large knobs already 

 formed, and even if such as these were likely to live I 

 jibbed at the postage I should have to pay. Now, twenty 

 years after, it is a fine bush five feet in height, and at 

 its feet and under its spread my souvenir of Patrick 

 Neill Fraser attracts everyone in February more than any 

 other Snowdrop clump in the garden. I take it to be a 

 hybrid, and the parents probably nivalis and some form of 

 caucasicus. It is rounder in flower than the Straffan one, 

 but has much the same graceful outline on a slightly 

 smaller scale, but has not inherited the Crimean character 

 of bearing a second flower from each pair of leaves. It is 

 at its best as the Ditto n Imperati is going over, and while 

 the Straffan princess is still a sleeping beauty, so these 

 three can reign as queen each for her season. 



The fourth claimant may not appeal to everyone, 

 for it is somewhat of a freak, the best-known of the 

 so-called white Snowdrops, which means the flowers 

 have little or no green marking on them. It is known 

 as G. nivalis poculiformis, and appears now and then 

 among the typical common Snowdrops. It originated at 

 Dunrobin among seedlings raised by Mr. Melville, who 

 kindly sent me plants of it. It is inclined to revert 

 to the normal form, but when a flower is as it should 

 be, it makes up for a few lopsided ones. The inner 

 segments should be long and pure white just like the 

 outer ones, and in this condition it is very graceful 

 when half expanded, as without the usual stiff green- 

 Si 



