604 THE SELECTION, ARRANGEMENT AND CULTURE OF HOUSE-PLANTS. 



among the others to hide its scraggy limbs. A nicotiana, 

 well in the light, might make the evenings sweet with 

 its perfume, and if the room be not over-warm, a pot 

 of mignonette might sweeten the air by day, and at 

 night be removed to cooler quarters. In the "middle 

 aisle " an achyranthes or two, may stand with sunlight 

 sifting through its fiery leaves, which have thus all the 

 color-effect of blossoms without their perishability. 

 Further back, anthericum may flourish, with curculigo 

 spreading queenly its fluted palm-like leaves, and always 

 craving moisture. And, in the "pauper's pew" wan- 

 dering jew will contentedly sit, like charity, kindly cov- 

 ering the entire defects of staring pots that needs must 

 hold its betters; and on the floor, at the foot of all, 

 aspidistra may seem to "choose darkness rather than 

 light." If you need a growing amaryllis or two to eke 

 out your foliage display, they will take a shady place 

 though to bring them into flower you need a strong, 

 steady sunlight. 



For a hanging-basket use the oxalis, of which there 

 are many beautiful varieties. It flowers abundantly, 

 but, as the season advances, must be stimulated with 

 repeated applications of liquid manure and soot tea, that 

 its foliage may not lose its vigor and become straggly. 

 Wandering Jew, though structurally coarse, is a good 

 hanging plant, and will accommodate itself to any 

 exposure, really doing its very best in a north window. 

 Ivy geranium is another hanging plant, beautiful in 

 structure, and with its double rose-pink blossoms, as in 

 the improved varieties, most fair to see. It demands 

 strong food, much moisture and oceans of sunlight, 

 Madeira vine and German ivy both make effective hang, 

 ing-baskets. The latter is too alluring to the green fly 

 to make its house-culture easy or satisfactory. Smilax, 

 if trained on strings, in a sunny window, is exquisitely 

 delicate, and its blossom is odorous. The English ivy. 

 as in-door greenery, is delightful. I have attempted its 

 culture, but my experience being but a series of ignoble 

 defeats, is not commendable. I wish it were ! The 

 odious scale has at last compelled me to abandon the 

 field. I must also confess to repeated failure with in- 

 door geraniums. Mine have not bloomed well ; and a 

 geranium without its blossom is a poor affair (not includ- 

 ing the scented varieties). Last autumn, after having 

 tried many methods with many kinds, I turned over a 

 new leaf in geranium culture. All my best geraniums 

 were consigned to an upper room, where no furnace 

 heat could reach them, and where, in cold nights, the 

 temperature falls perilously near to freezing point. 

 The plants have a southern window, and through the 

 day the room is moderately warmed from the ascending 

 heat of the kitchen. Geraniums (and fuchsias and nas- 

 turtiums as well) have taken kindly to this low tempera- 

 ture, the geraniums blooming as finely as in the open 

 during summer. Many of us have, no doubt, seen float- 

 ing about in print, the little story of that pot of geran- 

 ium which was the sole bequest of a dying man to his 

 family, who carefully tended this precious, though not 

 pecuniarily valuable legacy. When spring came the pot 



was reverently committed to the cemetery lot to summer 

 close beside the grave of the buried husband and father. 

 On removing it in autumn, the plant was found to have 

 outgrown its quarters, and was tenderly dislodged for 

 repotting. To the great surprise of these good people, 

 a hollow false bottom was found in the original pot ; 

 and on its removal a little fortune in bank notes was 

 disclosed, which as the story ran, had obligingly kept 

 themselves intact for the heirs in this odd storing place. 

 This tale has been cited of late, by a scientific floricul- 

 turist, as evidence of the deplorable ignorance of the 

 common mind in regard to absolutely necessary condi- 

 tions for growth demanded by a plant. " A geranium," 

 he authoritively tells us, "cannot exist without drain- 

 age, hence, an account which asserts that one has for 

 months survived the ordeal of a tight-bottom pot can 

 have no foundation in fact." So we have been taught ; 

 but, alas for the infallibility of time-honored theories ! 

 In the material world new discoveries are continually 

 upsetting old conclusions ; and we are notv told that our 

 geraniums and fuchsias have a natural affinity for tight- 

 bottomed tomato cans ! The finest geranium in my pres- 

 ent collection has the proud distinction of growing in a 

 water-tight lard kettle. Though a young and blooming 

 plant, it was held in light esteem by its owner because 

 of a vicious tendency to magenta, and in the autumn, 

 no pot being at hand, was given this apparently slim 

 chance of survival. Not only has it carried its buds 

 and blossoms straight on through the entire winter, but 

 has graciously overcome its perversity in the matter of 

 color, changing from a glaring magenta to a deep and 

 lovely rose. In the same group is a large white gera- 

 nium three years old, which, after blooming all summer 

 in the garden has never once, throughout the winter, 

 been out of bud and blossom. This well-behaved plant 

 grows in an old butter tub which stands squarely on its 

 "own" sound "bottom," unmutilated by gimlet or 

 auger. The plant had in late winter, ten clusters of 

 bud and bloom, while its small neighbor of the lard 

 kettle had six. A nasturtium, in the same window, flow- 

 ers abundantly ; and a fuchsia beside it is a paragon 

 among plants. All these have had weekly applications 

 of manure water and soot tea, and have not been kept 

 over-wet. Especially is this true of the two geraniums 

 — which may, perhaps, partly explain their dispensing 

 with drainage. The finest hyacinth I have ever grown 

 in the house perfected itself in a handleless fancy 

 pitcher which had no outlet at the bottom. Having no 

 pot of the right size, some lumps of charcoal were 

 thrown into this make-shift affair, the soil tossed in, and 

 the bulb, not without serious misgivings, carefully 

 planted. It flowered late, but its foliage was abundant 

 and its bloom exquisite. It gave me five perfect rose- 

 colored spikes, These all, in common with my other 

 plants (excepting ferns and aspidistras) were well fed 

 with liquid manure and soot tea, and, in potting, a little 

 wood ashes was added to the soil. 



That very old-fashioned plant, the bridal rose, is a 

 free winter-bloomer, and has a kindly way of sending up 



