22 



JOtTENAL OF HOETICULTUEE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. [ Jannary lo, 1865. 



I have heard L. recxirva, or Fivnisecii, or Eree's Fern, 

 described as very refractory in cultivation, but I have never 

 found it so. It will adapt itself to any situation where 

 there is good drainage ; stagnant soil is its death. In di-y 

 sunny aspects the fronds of Frenisecii will almost creep 

 along the ground, as if to make a shade for each other. In 

 an open space, where there is shade from a hedge, it will 

 shoot up its feathery sprays of tender green tall and strong, 

 making a vei-y handsome plaut. It is always interesting in 

 its growth and habits, and the young fronds are often green 

 in midwinter, and make lovely foliage for the vase. I have 

 never found it on rocks, or in any county but Cornwiill, 

 save in the instance I have named, in Devonshire. In cul- 

 tivating it in "Warwickshire. I used a little rich earth mixed 

 with leaf mould. 



In Scotland I found a variety of L. dilatata with its pin- 

 nules curved in a convex maimer. I showed the specimen 

 to Ml'. Bree, and he thought the curved look would vanish 

 with time. This has not proved to be the case, though I 

 have had the Fern for some years. Lastrea cristata I have 

 never found, but I have some good plants of it ; it increases 

 quickly in cultivation. L. cristata has one peculiarity which 

 1 have noticed in no o'.her Fern — the venation is cleai-ly do- 

 fined on the outer side, making a regular pattern on the 

 pinnule. This has been the simple mark which has always, 

 and at once, made L. cristata known to me. The fronds of 

 cristata are slender and pretty, but they are of so ft-agile a 

 nature that they bow, bruised and broken, before a high 

 ■wind, so that the plant has usually an untidy appearance in 

 the fernery. 



Asplenium marinum I found at Exmouth growing on a 

 rock far removed ii-om the sea. It also grows on the coast 

 about Teignmouth, and more plentifully near Dartmouth, 

 that strange old western town, with its ill-conditioned streets, 

 leading nowhere, huddled like waifs by the river side. The 

 best thing to be done when you get into Dartmouth, whether 

 by the pretty river route or by the railway, is to get out of 

 it again by hii-ing a boat, and rowing to the mouth of the 

 river, where you may pry after Marinum in caves hollowed 

 out of the rugged rocks, where tii'ed waves break and die, 

 and sea birds wail their melancholy cry. The coast on the 

 right of Dartmouth begins to assume the characteristics of 

 Cornwall ; the red sandstone gives place to granite, and the 

 softer features, that make the charm of Devonshire scenery, 

 disappear altogether. The Devonshire dialect, so soft and 

 courteously misleading, is soon lost in the rougher tongue 

 of the " Tre," " PoU," and " Pens " of the dear Cornish 

 land — a land so separated in the character of its people and 

 natural scenery from the rest of England, that during my 

 first visit to Penzance, I found myseU continually saj'ing, 

 " When I get back to England." It is a land of Ferns and 

 wild flowers — a land of old ecclesiastical monuments and 

 wayside crosses. Each village has its history and its records 

 of interest ; its church — a landmark to sailors at sea, and to 

 travellers across the waste ; its baptistry — the bubbling 

 waters of the clear spring, rising on some di-eary moor, 

 guarded by a few rough slabs of stone covered with Ivy and 

 decorated with Fern. The true Cornish man has a rough 

 ntelligonce that beams on his face, and takes expression 

 in words of singular fitness to the subject which engages 

 him. lie has a self-respect that gives to his conversation a 

 freedom unaccomjjanied by any mixture of vulgar familiarity. 

 Most of the Cornish miners have their bookshelves contain- 

 ing volumes so successfully read that humility keeps pace 

 with the knowledge acquired. This intelligence, with the 

 apt way of expressing it, gives a stamp of originality to the 

 people that you can hardly fail to recognise. 



After a visit of some months to Penzance, I went a tour 

 in the north of England, and in going over a silver mine I 

 was accompanied by one of the miners, who explained the 

 different details of the mine, and the processes of refining 

 the silver. At last we arrived at the final process, and saw 

 the silver purified of all its dross. I made some shglit re- 

 mark to the man on the exceeding beauty of the ore, which 

 he instantly answered by saying, " Yes, madam, I trust we 

 shall be found aa bright as that when the trials of earth 

 have done their wort, and purified all sin from our hearts -. 

 we sba'n't think much of the fire we have gone through then." 

 1 looked Tip at the intelligent face, and said, " You are from 

 Cornwall ? " lie asked me how I know, for indeed it was so ; 



and then he went on to tell me of his home and prospects in 

 the country he loved so much better than the noi-th. 



"Oue and M\" is the motto of Cornwall, and it expresses 

 much that is pleasing in the character of the people. 



The g.ardeus I saw in Cornwall (they were not many), had 

 a look of southern untidiness. Nature being left much more 

 to herself than in the north. Lai'ge Camellia trees were in 

 the borders, and on Cluistmas-day I gathered a nosegay 

 that would not have disgraced midsummer. The house I 

 inhabitc<l had a terrace in front, with a lawn sloping down 

 to an orchard, over the bloom of which you looked on the 

 sparkling sea. T'o the left was St. Michael's Mount and 

 Marazion, to the right the fishing village ot Newlyn and 

 the sweep of rocks by Mousehole. 



But I am leaving the Ferns xmnoticed too long, and they 

 will lead lue into many a well-remembered spot, and take 

 me amongst fishers and miners, who had always a kindly 

 word for the stranger, that often and often loft her the wiser 

 for its speaking ; and we cannot say as much for aU the con- 

 versation we hear in drawing-rooms. — Pilix-ecemina, 



POTATO CFLTITEE. 



I HAVE been much interested, amused, and, I must add, 

 a little confounded, in reading the article in No. 194, the 

 latter feeling brought ou by the numerous sorts of Potatoes 

 in esse and posse. Ai-e we to have as many sorts of Potatoes 

 as of Eoses i* If so, I, a simple cultivator of a few kinds for 

 the wants of my family, fear a sort of supervening delirium 

 — a Potato distraction — inclining one to leave old favourites 

 and try new kinds. "Will you, therefoi-e, Messrs. Editors, 

 allow me to give my forty yeai-s' experience, not in a scien- 

 tific article like that of your correspondent " Upwards and 

 Onvtaeds," but merely as the simple annals of a very simple 

 culturist ? I may give a few useful hints to those who wish 

 to have a good Potato on their table every week thoughout 

 the year ; and so I beg of you to pardon my odd ways of 

 cultivation. 



About the middle of February I have all the refuse litter 

 and leaves gathered, and mixed with an equal quantity of 

 stable dung. This mixtiu-e is then thrown together in a 

 large heap, and as soon as it commences to ferment it is 

 made into a bed C feet wide, and 30, 40, or 50 feet long, 

 according as my mixture holds out. After allowing it to 

 heat and settle for about a week some stakes are di-iven in 

 along each side and the ends, and a three-quarter-inch board 

 a foot wide is placed inside the stakes to support the'mould, 

 1 foot in depth, which is then placed on the bed and levelled. 

 The Potato sets, all greened and with theii- eyes ready to 

 start, are then planted about 8 inches deep, 1 foot row from 

 row, and inches apart in the rows. I plant them thus 

 thickly because I am rather extravagant, and take some up 

 when very young; but by taking up every alternate row 

 and leaving the others to make a more mature growth, I 

 appease mj' conscience, which is always at war with extra- 

 vagance. By the end of February my bed is planted. Its 

 slow fermentation helps on the roots ; but it is not powerrul 

 enough to resist March frosts, so I cover it with boughs of 

 trees, the "loppings" of the winter, and on them place a 

 covering of litter. This is taken oft' in April, and light and 

 air admitted to the young shoots, then well above ground. 

 In frosty nights some old mats are thrown over the boughs, 

 or, if the season is mild and early, the boughs are removed, 

 the bed .arched over with rods, and mats thrown over them. 

 My situation, or at least my Potato-bed situation, is cold and 

 bleak, yet just as I am getting tired of those flat-flavoured 

 Flukes, in the middle or end of May, my mildly-forced new 

 Potatoes arc ready. Thej' soon becomo ripe, and last well 

 on till the early sorts planted in the open borders are ready. 



Formerly — some twenty years since — I used to plant in 

 my hotbed an early sort of round I'otato called Early Ton- 

 week. This sort I see was exhibited at the last show by 

 Ml-. Mofl'at in his prize collection of round Potatoes. This, 

 for a round Potato, is very good. 1 then soon after it was 

 introduced, planted in the same bod the Early Ilandsworth; 

 but I soon found that this liind, although quite as early as 

 the Tea-week, was hard and indigestible, and I therefore 

 gave up its culture. Of late years, my taste having become 

 more refined, I have planted the Ashleafs (the old sort). 



