138 



THE PLOEIST AND POMOLOGIST. 



boxes, and there, on the bright green moss, our blooms look as fresh and brilliant as our 

 neighbours'. We had last seen them in the cold grey light of morning, but they had a very 

 different appearance in the warm mellow light of the conservatory; they had travelled 

 beautifully, with the exception of one or two which were none the better for the handling of 

 the porters ; but as we had plenty of duplicates it was not of much consequence. Madame 

 Boll had received a slight scratch across her face, but Louis XIV. was evidently suffering 

 from concussion. We arrange our stand, but have little hope of success ; for just as we are 

 leaving we find our little band so completely Jlectyed-'m by a vast army from Colchester, 

 which cruelly 



" Lays our rich country waste, 

 And rudely crops its ripened hopes 

 Of fair prosperity." 



Such an army of noble fellows we never before beheld. Mr. Beaton says they are fed 

 on fish. Cod-liver oil we should think more probable from their size and strength. Not- 

 withstanding our defeat, we cannot help but rejoice, for we never saw so much to charm 

 before ; and we feast our eyes upon our enemies with such rapture that we forgive them 

 from our heart. It is no discredit to be vanquished by such a foe. What unborn beauties 

 are yet concealed in embryo we know not, but these we think can never be surpassed. 



We squeeze through the crowd and continue our feast from box to box. We see all that 

 is possible to see, but the forlorn hope of seeing all is very apparent after two such 

 barricades of crinoline that defy all force, were we rude enough to use it. Another great 

 hindrance also to the company having fair play, is the monopoly of certain individuals who 

 persist in hanging over any particular box of interest, with book in hand, writing notes and 

 taking names, which, were they expeditious in their work, there could be no possible 

 objection; but one whom we had the misfortune to get behind, and whose room we were 

 patiently waiting for, seemed to have become a fixture for 1he day, without any intention of 

 moving; the only apology we can offer for him is that he may probably have become petrified 

 from the sight before him. There were not many striking novelties to be seen ; perhaps we 

 have been so spoilt with the abundance of good flowers the last few years that we expect too 

 much. The sensation Bose of the Show was of course " John Hopper," which is doubtless 

 the finest seedling of its class yet raised in this country. There are, probably, good reasons 

 for giving it so homely a name, but we should have preferred one that would have proclaimed 

 its birthplace more decidedly. The "G-lory of England," or the Beauty of Suffolk would 

 have reminded our French friends that it was possible to raise a good Bose in England. But 

 why, let us ask, was it placed in the conservatory where no one could find it, and where no 

 one would be likely to look for a novelty ? Hundreds went away without having heard of 

 the existence of "John Hopper," and those who did were so continually hopping on ladies 

 dresses that they saw very little of it. The only new Tea Bose worthy of notice is Grloire de 

 Bordeaux, of the old Gloire de Dijon blood, from which, we believe, it was raised. Of the 

 Perpetuals Due de Rohan was fine and of good colour, Maurice Bernardin, Charles Lefevre, 

 Mdlle. Julie Daran, La Brillante, are all promising ; the last two exquisite in colour. But 

 the most remarkable Bose for colour was a bloom of Lord Eaglan among the trebles ; wo 

 forgot to whom it belonged, it certainly exceeded anything we ever saw for brilliancy, not 

 even Eveque de Mmes excepted ; and had it not been for its shape we should almost have 

 questioned his lordship's title. Another singular whim of Nature we witnessed in a bloom 

 of "The Comtesse" in Mr. Cant's box, which was prettily striped with a deeper shade of 

 pink ; it was a lovely flower though not legitimate. These sports, we think, are becoming- 

 more frequent. We lately had a bloom of the " Senateur " with such a mottled visage that 

 we should scarcely have recognised him as our Perpetual King. Our old friend Charles 

 Lawson was very conspicuous in many stands, he had certainly put on his court dress for 

 the occasion ; we never saw him finer. Anna Diesbach also made a great dash, and wore her 

 largest crinoline ; it is a pity there is so much outside show about her : nevertheless she is 

 very beautiful and her complexion lovely. 



This great Rose festival at an end, the " Midland" next occupies our thoughts ; but we 

 can take this on our way home. In the meantime we turn our steps to Kew and Hampton 

 Court, at which latter place we revel in beds of Devonitnsis and Malmaison, and find much ' 

 else to delight us. Kew boasts more in its houses of choice exotics, and its " bedding-out" 

 is far superior to anything we have seen elsewhere. The arrangement of colour is perfection, 

 and it must be a very fastidious critic indeed who has a fault to find at Kew. 



The eve of the "Midland " finds us on our way to Birmingham ; and as we loiter on the 

 morrow through its streets of smoke and dinning manufactories, we have little to remind us 

 of anything so fair and pure as our queen of flowers. But however few the associations of 

 so beloved a lady, we are verily and in truth close to her royal court ; and such a grand 

 reception is there being held which was never before known out of the great metropolis. 

 We enter this floral palace, for it is worthy to be called so ; again we recognise our dear old 

 favourites fresh, glowing, sweet, and beautiful. 



