164 JOURNAL OF THE ROYAL HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 



It is satisfactory all round. It is an "elegant" plant in the old true 

 meaning of the word — that is, " made with care and taste, excellent ; highly 

 wrought." Seldom is it seen in groups of more than three or four, 

 oftener it comes singly, and shadowy places seem to be the most agreeable 

 to it. There is just one drawback — the sinister-looking orange-drop that 

 oozes from the end of a stalk when broken. Yet even that ugly drop is 

 possessed of healing qualities. The leaf is boldly and exquisitely cut, and 

 the whole plant bears a sort of stately presence, lowly in stature though it 

 be ; an aspect of strength and delicacy combined. Great Celandine is 

 certainly my best-loved garden weed. He is said to be named 

 " Chelidon," after the swallow, since it first appears with the swallow, 

 and dries up when swallows depart. Our Celandines near the house — 

 they seldom wander far — began to spring this year just as the first 

 swallows arrived. As for the withering away, the plant knows his time, 

 but I do not ; since I am absent from the garden from July until autumn. 



For the Lesser Celandine (Ranunculus Ficaria) I fear I have little 

 fancy. Poets praise it and children love it ; therefore not to care for it 

 must surely be my own mistake. Just once or twice I have seen it in 

 the garden nestling among the roots of a Rose-bush, with wide-open 

 petals glistening in the sun, like gold ; and then I have almost liked it. 

 It then has somehow seemed to lose its perhaps rather "common " look. 



Early in February or March, under the old trees of a Lime avenue 

 just outside the garden wall, our little Celandine luxuriates. Suddenly, 

 in April this spring, there appeared one day a purple glow — the purple 

 of wild Sweet-violets, between the polished leaves and blossoms of the 

 Celandine. The Violets made netted patchwork in the midst, and they 

 seemed to redeem the almost vulgar boldness of the little yellow-flowered 

 plant. A Violet leaned against every otjier green leaf-disc of Celandine ! 



Another favourite is a handsome weed that stays with us in beauty 

 from about the first week of December until put an end to by the hot 

 suns of summer. Gardening and botanical authorities have named it 

 for me Hellcborus fcetidus. Yet except for a kind of pungent odour in 

 the leaf when crushed, I can discover nothing to warrant the unpleasant 

 name. Had I had the luck to be its godmother, it should have been 

 named something that meant green-flowered, or charming, or " the plant 

 with sad-coloured leaf." As usual it is next to impossible clearly to 

 make it out in the gardening books, at least in those I have been able to 

 consult. Mostly these descriptions seem to read as though the authors had 

 never beheld the plants they describe ; and when there are illustrations 

 the case is worse ; they seem to be coloured to look pretty and — except 

 when photographed — are unnaturally twisted about so as to fit the page. 



Helleborus fwtidus, if thus it must be, seems to have been with us 

 always, more or less. At least I cannot remember when it was not there. 

 It grows only in one special bit of the garden, within the shady angle of 

 an old brick wall. I do not know of the narrow boundary being ever 

 overstepped in the course of these many years past, save once only when 

 one individual seedling contrived to transfer itself from the shady to the 

 sunny side of the old wall. Here it rejoices in the hot south, with equal 

 zest as formerly in the cool shade. Hellebore seems to be not particular 

 about either aspect or soil, thriving, as it does with us, both in deep 



