90 



JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 



L August 2, 1864. 



practice — -just imagine flowers being dressed eighty years 

 ago. The worthy doctor called it " Thumbing " and told the 

 weaver florists that their fingers took all the enamel off the 

 petals and spoiled the flowers. 



Long before Paisley was lighted with gas, the doctor had 

 a gas-making apparatus for his own use ; and as he could 

 make more than he needed, he lighted one or two neighbour- 

 ing shops. Gas was a novelty in those days. On one 

 occasion he had been advised to try gas tar as a destroyer of 

 a certain species of insect that sometimes infests the wood- 

 work of old and even new houses ; and when a florist friend 

 asked him if he thought it would kill the domestic intruders, 

 he said there was no doubt of that, for he thought the smell 

 of the tar was going to kill the whole family. 



But I must leave Doctor Carswell and the Old Club, and 

 speak of the late James Finlayson. He is known to have 

 exhibited Carnations in Edinburgh as early as 1815, and he 

 is said to have gained his first prize for flowers in 1792, when 

 he was only eight years of age. This may be correct in a 

 certain sense, as he might have been exhibiting his father's 

 flowers, but he could hardly claim the credit of growing 

 them himself. For many years, and indeed up to last 

 season, he attended most of the local shows, at which he 

 was always in demand, but his great days were in connec- 

 tion with the Paisley Club. It was the custom to meet 

 once a-week, each member bringing whatever he pleased; 

 the flowers were then laid out, judges appointed, and the 

 awards made and entered in the records of the Club. On 

 one occasion it was recorded, I think by Dr. Carswell, that 

 " James Finlayson had the best Polyanthus, and he would 

 have been a very bad florist if he had not, for it was the 

 only one there." Money prizes were not thought of in the 

 old days ; the honour of being first was the only prize com- 

 peted for by these primitive florists, and there is no doubt 

 that their love for the flowers they cultivated must have 

 been very strong. Mr. Finlayson was somewhat severe in 

 his judgment of new flowers, and sometimes expressed his 

 opinion with more vigour than elegance. When an Auricula 

 called Dean's Delight came out many years ago he gave his 

 verdict on it thus—" Tak' that by the cuff o' the neck and 

 put it in the midden." He was a good hand at nursing 

 seedlings : very few died with him, which gave rise to the 

 saying that he was in the habit of putting warm bricks to 

 their feet. His chief favourites were Carnations, Picotees, 

 Pinks, Polyanthus, Ranunculuses, and Auriculas, to which 

 he devoted his whole attention on a small plot of ground in 

 Paisley, for the last thirty years. Up to that time he had 

 followed the occupation of a weaver. 



Perhaps the best things he has raised are Auriculas 

 John Bright, Eichard Cobden, and Mrs. Beeeher Stowe, 

 which are said to be excellent varieties, and the two latter 

 have never been sent out. Mrs. Beeeher Stowe he said he 

 "would give to no one while he lived. He was very conserva- 

 tive of his plants at all times, and was very particular to 

 get his price for those he sold. It was his practice to grow 

 his flowers very fine — he disliked a coarse flower — and the 

 result of growing in poor soil for the sake of fineness was 

 that he seldom had much stock of choice or new varieties. 

 He was an excellent judge of the flowers that were grown 

 in the early days of floriculture, such as those he was in the 

 habit of growing himself; but he maintained to the last 

 that no improvement had been made in Carnations : he 

 said they had more petals, but they wanted size. 



He was much sought after by the working class for two 

 mixtures, which either were in reality, or were believed to 

 be, curatives of rheumatism and diseases of the eye. For 

 these he never would take any reward. In his latter days 

 his great pride was a walking-stick made of the stem of 

 what is called a Clothier's Thistle, which he took great 

 delight in showing and challenging people to tell of what 

 wood it was made. He was one of the links that connected 

 the present generation of florists with those who made pets 

 of certain flowers in the olden time, and made the first 

 efforts to improve them. The old Paisley florists, most of 

 whom are dead and gone long ago, must have the credit of 

 introducing florists' flowers to the West of Scotland, and of 

 fostering that taste for them which is now spread far and 

 wide. In this work the late Mr. Finlayson did his share. 

 There are one or two old florists in Paisley who will, I dare- 

 say, be able to give you some additional details, if you think 



these few disjointed remarks wanting in interest ; but there 

 is little in the way of incident to be found in a calm and 

 even life like that of Mr. Finlayson. He discharged the 

 duties of his position with fidelity; so far as his means and 

 opportunities went he promoted floriculture ; but he has left 

 his earth-born treasures to cross the dark valley, and the 

 sound of his footsteps will be heard no more. " Life's fitful 

 fever over, he sleeps well." — N. G. (West of Scotland Horticul- 

 tural Magazine.) 



WHITTLESEY'S LOCOMOTIVE SEAT. 



We had the misfortune to have 

 to do all our hard work in a genera- 

 tion when every plan for doing work 

 easily was considered as indicating 

 laziness. The locomotive seat would 

 have had no chance of success in 

 that day ; but the wonders of the 

 real locomotive have broken down 

 all this prejudice, and such inven- 

 tions as this of Mr. Whittlesey's 

 cause the originators to be classed 

 among the workman's benefactors. 



The following illustrations explain 

 the idea. 



Fig. 1 shows the seat. 



Fig. 2 shows it fastened to the 

 foot. 

 — (Gardener' s Monthly, American.) 



Fig. 1. 



SI . - 



'W/////^' // 



Fig. 2. 



VENTILATING. 



I had a bricked dung-pit 10 feet long, 6 wide, and 3 deep; 

 it was emptied out, and a glazed span-roof Tout on it ; it runs 

 east and west, so that the south side receives most of the 

 sun. There is no upright side glass, but the roof consists 

 of four sashes, two on the north side and two on the south. 

 Either sash can fold back on its neighbour, and must be 

 folded back for any one to get into the pit, there being no 

 other entrance. When any sash is lifted it affords ventila- 

 tion at the side, at top, and at bottom ; when all four are 

 tilted with a chock of wood it is as if the roof were off, except 

 in the centre of each side of the span, where the sashes are 

 hinged to work on. The pit is sunk and unpaved; it is 

 damp ; a number ot Camellias and Azaleas have set their buds 

 well in it. The south side of the span is all rough plate ; 

 the two ends are filled in with clear glass. After two o'clock 

 some large trees keep the sun from the pit. Each sash is 

 now tilted a foot, and the air travels freely through the 



