November 7, 1878. ] 
sGCRNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
347 
five minutes, as people were just being turned out. One was 
the scarlet bizarre True Briton that gained first prize; the 
other, I think, was the first-prize purple flake. Indeed while 
Mr. Veitch stood there I carded and dressed nearly a dozen. 
I fancy my friend “ GILLYFLOWER” also saw me, hence his 
remarks. His remarks are also of the more value because he 
was placed second to me in one of the highest classes. As to 
the cutting from the paper, I presume we are now discussing 
the way of preparing these flowers for exhibition, and the 
words quoted were not used by me in that connection. I will 
not take any further notice of people who do not give their real 
mame and address, or who have no other object in view than 
to wound the feelings of a successful exhibitor—J. DOUGLAS. 
PARISIAN NOTES ON PUBLIC PARKS AND 
GARDENS. 
IN copying out the following brief Parisian garden notes J 
shall proceed on the supposition that the readers of the Journal 
of Horticulture are lovers of Nature and Art, of sculpture and 
painting and their correlative fine arts, as well as of arboricul- 
ture and garden adornment. With this view it may not be 
injudicious to take seriatim some of the more prominent 
features, particularly noticing peculiarities, sights, and scenes 
individually, so as to ayoid the confusion that would neces- 
sarily arise from attempting a reference collectively, sifting 
out what might be deemed unsuitable. The first thing that 
catches the visitor’s eye are 
The Market Gardens.—As you enter by the Western Railway 
(Gare St. Lazare) you are struck with the extent devoted to 
growing vegetables and fruit. Remembering there is a fixed 
population of two millions, and perhaps at present a large 
fraction of a floating one besides, this will not surprise. You 
will probably inquire what the long lines trained to low 3-feet 
trellis, resembling thin rows of Gooseberry bushes, are? These 
are open air Vines, and this is the usual way they are grown. 
On the other side of Paris, on either side of the line to Fontain- 
dleau, I saw them more generally trained against walls. I may 
here say from the time you land at Dover, Dieppe, or Havre— 
I understand all oyer France—you see few cottages against 
the sides and over the root of which a Vine is not trained. In 
several instances I tasted the fruit thus produced, and con- 
sidered it sweeter than that grown indoors in England or Ive- 
land, probably owing to the greater influence of sun and air. 
The prevailing kind appeared to be transparent green varieties, 
possibly varieties of Sweetwater or hardy Muscat with a French 
name. I rarely saw Black Hamburgh thus grown or sold in 
the shops. I need hardly say how cheap bunches of Grapes 
can be had in Paris. I saw no large canes as a rule—generally 
small and trained low. “What are the hundreds of bellglasses 
for?” inquired a Glasgow gentleman sitting near. These are 
also a peculiarity everywhere you turn. I believe, according 
to the season, they are variously utilised. Whole squares are 
covered thus, and in the sparkling sunshine at a distance the 
effect is undoubtedly remarkable. Lettuces at this season, and 
several cther tender vegetables, are protected with them upon 
a very large scale. Although the expense of ground for garden 
purposes around Paris must be very considerable, I was sur- 
prised to find whole squares apparently unoccupied except by 
weeds, evidently since the Potato crop had been removed. 
This I noticed in seyeral places ; and while disposed to admit 
the excellence of the vegetables to be seen at the city vegetable 
markets near Notre Dame or in the Boulevard des Italiens, &c., 
I do not consider they can compare favourably with Covent 
Garden or eyen Dublin Market produce. Perhaps I may fitly 
take next 
The Exhibition Grounds.—These are tastefully—splendidly 
—laid out. To avoid repetition, everything is neat and in the 
‘best taste within the whole municipal boundary from the point 
of view under consideration. Hosts of men are employed; 
why, although you have treey boulevards in all directions, no 
sooner has a leaf fallen, and they are doing so now as thick as 
those in historical Vallambrosa, than a sweeper with a long 
broom switches it and everything unseemly into a light vehicle 
kept constantly in motion. The result is that everything— 
streets and boulevards, crossings and pathways, bridges and 
quays, turfy slopes and public lawns—are ever agreeable to 
look at.. This applies still more to the grassy plots, large un- 
protected areas of which you see in all directions, including 
the lawns in the Exhibition grounds. Although 380,000 daily 
had on an average passed the turnstiles, on the week of my 
visit these lawns seemed so green and beautiful to look at that 
it seems probable no foot ever touched them. These were one 
of the sights of this world’s fair, and deserve more than a 
passing notice; but let me first say a few general words of 
this Exposition. It covers 150 acres in the heart of the city. 
When one has seen the London and Dublin parks, and public 
squares, and many private gardens, the floral display in those 
grounds or any part of the city will neither surprise gr astonish. 
This may as well be at once said. The fountains at the main 
or Trocadéro entrance, with their circular and neatly kept 
carpet beds and daily-mown and hourly-watered. turf, look 
healthy and beautiful. Worthy of notice, too, if only for con- 
trast, were some borders near the Passy entrance, in which 
some fine specimens of subtropical plants attained large 
dimensions, while a wall behind appeared as if illumined, 
covered with Cobcea scandens, scarlet Tropzolum, and Vir- 
ginian Creeper, the leaves of this latter having now assumed 
their well-known brilliant vermilion hue ; indeed, all over Paris 
this appeared the favourite creeper for balconies and house 
fronts. The lawnsand fountains, cascades and miniature lakes 
with strange devices, were special features. The exhibition of 
fruit and flowers drew much attention, but they have already 
been referred to in the Journal. The grass plots in which 
French and English houses competed with marked allotments 
for the best seed-sown lawn commanded considerable notice. 
The only, or two principal, English firms I noticed were Messrs. 
Carter of Holborn, and Messrs. Webb of Wordsley. Both looked 
fine and close, as did most of the French competitors. Since 
I returned a gentleman has informed me the Messrs. Carter 
received first prize, at which I was not surprised. The speci- 
men greenhouses had many curious features, and were adapted 
to different circumstances, wants, and pecuniary abilities. 
Before parting from this ever-to-be-remembered world’s fair 
I should notice the system of hydrants, with their attached 
light and convenient hose. You find them everywhere. They 
are used for grass, for walks, for roads, with a perforated 
nozzle, and must have had a most refreshing effect during the 
warm weather. Feeling the inadequacy of any observations 
within my limits I must still more hurriedly note 
The Jardin des Plantes, combining the botanical features of 
Kew with the ornithological and zoological collections of 
Regent’s Park, with many other additional attractions, as a 
free public library containing seventy thousand volumes, a 
chemical laboratory, and museums of natural history and 
anatomy. Here were placed Humboldt’s American tropical 
collection of rare plants, and from a mound with a cast bronze 
pavilion splendid views can be obtained, not only of this ex- 
tensive public garden, but of many interesting scenes around. 
The greenhouses, which are not proportionally extensive, I 
regret I cannot compare to Kew, and hardly to our own smaller 
but superb botanical garden at Glasnevin. The healthy appear- 
ance of the plants certainly loses much by contrast, if the drier 
atmosphere and climate does not partially explain it. 
The Jardin a’ Acclimatation.—This should not be missed if 
possible by the visitor, if only to see the zoological collections, 
which were almost all eaten during the last siege, but since 
restored. Trees, lakes, walks, flowers, botanical collection, 
and sweet music, with many things to interest beside, can be 
here enjoyed; and for those satiated with noise, excitement, 
and the bustle of the city there is to be had the blest retire- 
ment and seclusion of quiet retired walks under drooping 
foliage, reminding one of the walk preferred by Addison in the 
Glasneyin Botanic Gardens, where, in company with his friend 
Tickel, they planned and wrote the immortal essays in the 
“Spectator” and ‘Tatler.’ Taking next some of the city 
public gardens I may appropriately commence with 
The Tuileries Garden.—tThis, 1 understand, was originally 
an orchard, and has, I believe, undergone many fearful changes 
like the adjoining palace, from which the garden is separated 
by a new street. It has, however, at present a smiling appear- 
ance, and, like everything French, the characteristic is neat- 
ness and scrupulous cleanliness of walks, borders, and parterres. 
The constant use of the aforementioned syringing hydrants to 
flowers and grass maintains that healthy appearance on which 
visitors love to gaze. The blooming plants were principally 
very bright-coloured but rather dwarf Dahlias, Chrysanthemums 
(why cannot the gardening public of England and Ireland have 
early Chrysanthemums in August, September, and October, 
when there will be no danger of frost?) Tuberous Begonias, 
Pelargoniums, and smaller bedding stuff. 
The Luxembourg Gardens.—These are hardly second to the 
last named in their extent. beauty of design, and the number of 
statues. The walks and flower beds are even handsomer, and 
