200 



JOURNAL OF HOETICtJLTUEE AND COTTAGE GAEDENEK. 



[ September 14, 1871. 



of General Moiin. They came, we believe, from Eew, but, 

 tLrongh mismanagement, most of the young plants perished. 

 Fresh supplies of seed were subsequently procured from Ceylon 

 and Bitavia, and a report, dated in January last, furnishes 

 the annexed details : — At Salazie, at an elevation of 4000 feet 

 above the sea, two plants of Cinchona officinalis, saved by 

 Dr. Vinson out of the produce of the seeds sown in 1866, were 

 thriving splendidly. They were four years and a half old, and 

 15 feet in height. Their perfect acclimatisation was attested 

 by the fact that in January, 1S71, they were covered with 

 flowers for the first time. It was hoped that the flowers would 

 become fertilised this season, and that it would be possible to 

 save seed from them. — {Food Journal.) 



THE HEATH AND THE FERN. 



" There, how do you feel now ? " said a purple Heath, grow- 

 ing on a sunny roadside among Furze and Bramble bushes, to 

 a small Fern that had taken root under the shade of a thick old 

 Elm tree. " A short time ago how yon pitied me, because my 

 days had to be spent working and growing out in the summer 

 heat ; pity yourself now. See how the soft warm rain is fall- 

 ing, and never a drop can reach you." 



" AH the air is full of moisture," replied the Fern ; " I felt 

 it coming long before yon did. I could not live hall my time 

 exposed to the dry fever heat in which you seem to revel." 



" You are not going to live long," replied the Heath, " if 

 there is any truth in your looks. How grey, and dusty, and 

 parched yon are. Your withered fronds go crack, crack, as the 

 wind passes through them ; you are as dry as the soil you 

 vainly endeavour to thrust your roots into, and see how the 

 rain comes down not unmindful of the smallest blade of withered 

 grass ; it would reach you if it could ; gently, timidly it comes 

 like a too-long-absent friend, and there is a rumbling noise 

 afar cfi, and bright lights come and go in the sky, not caused 

 hy sun or moon, yet you are as thirsty as ever. Your great 

 friend the Elm gathers it all to himself, not a drop escapes 

 through his wide-spreading greedy arms. Poor Feru ! you are 

 dying of thirst — dying within sight and sound of running water." 



" My turn will come," answered the Fern in a feeble voice, 

 which sounded as though it came from a long distance; "when 

 the good Elm is satisfied, my few wants will be supplied." 



" It has been raining for hours," said the Heath, with a 

 great laugh, " and it may cease before he is satisfied, and there 

 be nothing left for you but a few dirty leaf-droppings. If you 

 had taken my advice you could have drunk your fill now ; 

 what a good time you would have had." 



" It would have been all over with me now, Mr. Heath, if I 

 had ventured to live with you out tliere, exposed to the burning 

 sun through all the long cloudless summer ; the shade of this 

 thick tree is welcome to me. I do not care for a blue sky ; and 

 a hard, dry, unmoistened atmosphere is a pain to me ; it weakens 

 my strength and injures my beauty." 



" You do not know what is good," replied the Heath. " Oh 

 how I love it." And in merry mood the gay Heath Ciugbt up 

 the passing breeze, and shook out its thousand purple bells ; 

 and as though moved by the same impulse the giant Eltn 

 lifted up and down his heavy arms, thickly clothed with sum- 

 mer leaves, and warm showers fell and moistened the dusty 

 Boil, and down his rough dark trunk little rivulets softly stole 

 and tracked their way to the hollow where the Fern waited in 

 patience. 



"I am more than content," whispered the Fern; "lean 

 grow green again, and ripen my rich brown spores;" and full 

 of hope the Fern stretched out its faded fronds, uncurling each 

 tender joint, and aU the cool air was full of sweet perfume ; the 

 very soil sent up a thank-ofiering. — Maud. 



NOTES AND GLEANINGS 

 On the 26th of August, at St. George's Eoad, Kilburn, in the 

 eighty-fifth year of his age, died Mr. James db Cakle Soweeby. 

 Ha was the eldest son of the late eminent naturalist, Mr. James 

 Sowerby, and he received much of his education through assist- 

 ing his father in his literary and scientific labours. He was a 

 Fellnw of the Linnean Society, of the Zoological Society, and 

 the Ely Society, and was Secretary of the Eoyal Botanic So- 

 ciety, in the first establishment of which, in 1839, he took an 

 active part. He retained the secretaryship until about a year 

 since, when he retired, the Society allowing him a small 

 pension. He published many Lists of Fossil Shells, &c., in the 

 Transactions of the Geological Society, and was author of 



" The British Mineralogy," and " Mineral Conchology." H& 

 was a skilful artist, and engraved many plates of fossil shells- 

 and English plants, and drew the figtires lor London's " Eney- 

 clopaiia of Plants," &c. 



MUSHROOMS IN CANTERBURY, NEW 

 ZEALAND. 



Here, in a plentiful season like the present, many hundreds 

 of gallons of what I will term field Mushrooms are gathered 

 and hawked about the streets of Christchurch during the fino 

 autumn weather which we usually have in this very variable 

 and, as regards climate, treacherous part of New Zealand. I 

 read that in the other colonies occasionally hundreds of bushels 

 are gathered in spring and autumn. It is generally every 

 second autumn that we have them in such great abundance 

 here. This autumn we have had the old saying, " as plentiful 

 as Mushrooms," fully realised amongst us. I think the yield 

 of this fungus has in the present year far exceeded that knowi: 

 in any previous season in Gant-erbury. Two very large speci- 

 mens of dunghill Mushrooms have come under my notice this- 

 season. Both were of the dimensions of an ordinary cheese- 

 plate, weighing respectively 1 lb. llj ozs. and 1 lb. llh ozs. 



In our autumn months of 1869 1 saw a parcel of Mushrooms 

 of extraordinary size. The largest was 12 inches in diameter- 

 and the remainder averaged about inches. These were grown 

 on a farm near my residence, in the " stockyard," or rendezvous 

 for the cattle belonging to the farm. In addition to this, a 

 monster dunghill Mushroom was found in March, 1866, in the 

 neighbourhood of Christchurch, and it had attained the size o£ 

 33 inches round by 11 inches across the cap, stalk 13 inches 

 round ; and in another instance I recollect making notes of & 

 dunghiU Mushroom 12 inches round, and weighing 1 lb. 



I attribute the growth of small as well as large specimens 

 of this delicate fungus in such amazing profusion every alternate 

 autumn solely to our genial rains, succeeded generally by warna 

 sunny weather. I recollect on one occasion Mushrooms were 

 collected by drayloads in the country and brought into town for 

 sale. The same season some persons went down the river 

 Avon in a boat, landing occasionally, and they obtained nearly 

 a boatload. We find from experience that if we want our 

 catsup to keep a long time we must not pick up Mushrooms in 

 the paddocks on a wet morning, and I think I can safely state 

 that there are few families without a good bottle of catsup in 

 store. At the time of picking them it is quite a pastime 

 amongst all classes to go out, " Maori-kit " in hand. This is 

 a kind of boat-shaped basket, made of New Zealand Flax by 

 the Maories. The Mushrooms are usually sold at Is. the- 

 American bucketful. 



In conclusion, I do not think we shall ever require "Mush- 

 room caves " here for the culture of the Mushroom. — Williai: 

 Swale, Avonside Botanic Garden, Canterburxj, New Zealand. 



NEW EDIBLES. 



I:s this paper we shall refer more to the produce of British 

 plants than to those of foreign origin, and our aim will be 

 chiefly to draw attention to the utilisation of those which 

 abound on roadsides and waste places in English rural dis- 

 tricts ; and, as many of these have at some time or other beec 

 cooked and eaten, either experimentally or to satisfy the 

 cravings of hunger, our remarks wiU seem to apply rather to a 

 revival of old edibles than to the introduction of new ones. 

 Few people who pass their days in towns have any idea of the 

 utility of wild plants, and we fear that fewer still are thoroughly 

 acquainted with the source or origin of most of our cultivated 

 vegetables. Many of those whick we now prize very highly,, 

 and which are recognised articles of food, are cultivated forms 

 of wild plants which any of us may still see growing in their 

 natural state in certain districts. The Celery (Apium graveo- 

 lens), and the Sea-kale (Crambe maiitima), may be taken as 

 examples, the first of which may be found in marshy places 

 and ditches on different parts of the seacoast, and the second, 

 also a coast plant, grows wild amongst sand and shingle. The 

 Asparagus likewise grows wild in several places on the British 

 coast. If the culture and development of these and many 

 similar plants have been found not only successful but remtme- 

 rative in a high degree, it seems to be a matter beyond dispute 

 that others might be similarly changed by persevering efiorta 

 in cultivation. 



The Hop (Humulus Lupulus), which is extensively cultivated 

 for brewing purposes, is an example : in its wild state it grow* 



