MAY 307 



spring, I find a plant or two of Nicotiana afflnis, sown in 

 the autumn and grown in the greenhouse, very useful. 

 One flower cut off, with a branch of Prince of Orange 

 Geranium or a piece of Sweet Verbena — of which there 

 ought to be plenty now, if they have been properly 

 grown on — make charming little bouquets for this pur- 

 pose. 



The gardener of a friend of mine sowed some self- 

 saved seed of Nemesia strumosa in September in a pan, 

 pricking them off twice — the second time a single plant 

 in a small pot. The result was some charming well- 

 grown plants, which flowered beautifully in April, and 

 the flowers were larger and finer than the summer ones 

 out of doors. 



The French 'Mange -tout' Peas (Sutton catalogues 

 them as ' French Sugar Peas' ) are not yet sown gener- 

 ally enough in England. English cooks do not under- 

 stand (and how should they without explanation?) that 

 they are not shelled, but the pod and the pea are boiled 

 together, and a little butter added before serving. 



In the 'Westminster Gazette' of last spring there was 

 an interesting article on the history of Tulips, called 

 forth by the Tulip show at the Royal Botanic Gardens 

 and the general revival of interest in the flower, which 

 has as romantic a history as any plant all the world over. 

 The article being too long to quote here entirely, I give 

 a few extracts : ' In the seraglio of the Shadow of God, 

 when the world was a few centuries younger, there was 

 one festival in early spring which for dazzling splendour 

 outshone the rest of the Eastern fairy like night scenes. 

 Unnumbered artiflcial suns, moons, and stars lit up the 

 Sultan's beautiful gardens, and in the mystic light 

 which turned night into day tens of thousands of Tulips 

 stood proudly up on their tall, slim stalks, the goblet of 

 each blossom perfect in form and in colour. Among 



