September, 1919 
£3l)£~TUwer (Brower 
89 
IMIIIIMIHIIIIIIIIIII 
MRS. AUSTIN’S TALKS 
: [ Written expressly for The Flower Grower. ] 
imiimimiiMiM 
A New Seed- 
ling Gladiolus. 
“I 
"SN’T that a beauty !” 
“It certainly is, it 
caught my eye the 
first of any. Such 
marvelous color and notice 
its size. Of course, it’s a 
prize winner.” 
The two young ladies, 
who were among the early 
arrivals at the exhibition of the Gladi- 
olus Society, were standing at the en- 
trance of the great show room. The 
flower they were speaking of was in 
the center of an exhibit opposite them, 
and being conspicuous because of its 
size and charming color, at once at- 
tracted their attention. After a sweep- 
ing glance around the hall their eyes 
were again settled on it. “ Now let’s 
go straight to that flower first and then 
make a tour of the room,” and they 
went on, admiring and exclaiming as 
they passed the various exhibits, un- 
til they had gone the rounds and came 
back to it. “No, there’s nothing else 
that can anywhere near equal it. It is 
perfectly wonderful.” 
“ Yes, it is a pretty thing, and every 
way you look at it. Do you know, I 
just wish I could have a dress like that. 
That unusual color with the silky sheen 
is fine, and,” tipping her head sidewise, 
“ another way it looks like velvet 
sparkling with diamond dust. The 
shading is so suitable, just as the trim- 
ming of a dress should be.” She 
paused, gave a few almost impercep- 
tible chews on the gum that had given 
one pink cheek a very plump appear- 
ance, then added : “ It’s just my color, 
too, I wonder why I have never thought 
of it before.” As her friend made no 
remark she turned to find her appar- 
ently enraptured with the beauty of the 
flower and seemingly unconscious of 
her presence. Opening her eyes wide 
in astonishment, she asked : “ What is 
the matter with you ; have you gone 
clear crazy over a flower ?” 
“ No, but the more I see it, the more 
beautiful it seems. I want to have 
one. Where is he, the owner, I mean. 
Have you seen him?” 
At that moment the exhibitor, who 
was coming toward them, was joined 
by a number of friends, talking noisily. 
“ We want to see that New Seedling of 
yours that we hear so much about.” 
“ Of course he would win the blue rib- 
bon,” and “All he has to do is to stick 
a seed in the ground and it will grow a 
prize winner. Now, didn’t you ?” and 
with more lively banter, to which the 
patient originator replied : “ It took 
some time and study to produce that 
flower.” 
“ Well, it is wonderful ! Beautiful !” 
“Just what we expected you would 
have." “Well, goodby, we’ll see you 
again." As they moved on, snatches 
of their conversation floated back. “O 
he’s a perfect crank on flowers.” 
“Fusses with them year after year.” 
“Never made any money 
with them.” “Of course, it’s 
nice but”— and the voices 
trailed off into the distance. 
He smiled and then noticed 
Lucille’s rapt expression. 
“You like my flower?” 
“ Yes, it is exquisite. I 
want it. Will you let me 
have it, sell it to me I mean. 
It is the bulb that I want?” 
He shook his head slowly. 
“ I couldn’t,” he said, “ at least not 
now,” then added, “Perhaps you would 
like to know how I came by it?” She 
nodded and he began: “Years ago 
when Gladiolus blooms were small and 
mostly of very ordinary colors, what 
we now call old-fashioned Gladioli, I 
pictured an ideal flower and hoped 
sometime to see the reality. It was to 
be large, yet delicate of texture and 
strong of substance. Of beautiful form, 
and resting, like a tired butterfly, on a 
stem so slender and graceful, that the 
word spike would forever be forgotten. 
Its color to be” — “Like that of the 
Pearly Gates,” she interrupted. 
“I sowed seed,” he continued, “gath- 
ered from flowers that from close ob- 
servation, seemed to hint of tendencies 
in the direction of my dream flower. 
Nature understood and leaped to my 
assistance. Very soon I learned that 
many different tendencies were hidden 
in seed and that if I could, in some way, 
combine and guide those tendencies, it 
might be possible that some condition 
of culture or environment would re- 
lease them into the perfection of the 
flower of my dreams. I grew thou- 
sands of seedlings and by my method 
of combining and selecting,” as he 
talked he pulled an anther loaded 
with pollen, from a flower, and rubbed 
its dust on the stigma of another 
one nearby — “and recombining, I de- 
veloped greatly improved varieties. Oc- 
casionally a peerless bloom would be 
mine, then some unforeseen condition 
would snatch it from me and it would 
be lost, its beauty but a fleeting mem- 
ory. Often a seedling would produce 
a bloom of monster size, the first year 
only, and no amount of coaxing would 
bring anything but a common flower 
ever after. My dream flower still 
eluded me. Disappointment was fast 
leading to discouragement, and one 
day— I remember it well — a day near 
the end of a prolonged drought, when 
hot winds were burning the drooping, 
thirsty spikes, and the seedlings gave 
no promise. That day I gave up my 
quest. I would try no more. The 
next morning after a copious rainfall 
this flower was mine.” He paused, 
then lifted the flower caressingly from 
the holder. 
“ That was some time ago,” he said, 
“ but it has stood the test of time and 
discouraging conditions. It is what a 
New Seedling that is of actual worth 
should be.” 
“ I understand now,” said Lucille. 
“ A New Seedling that is worth growing 
and giving to the world should be so 
—unusual— so different, and beautiful 
so distinctive in every way that it 
will at once attract the attention of the 
casual observer just as it did me, us,” 
she corrected, becoming aware of the 
presence of her companion. 
“Well,” spoke up her companion 
emphatically as she turned to the or- 
iginator, “ You sure ought to make 
some money on that flower. It was 
job enough to get it. I shall want some 
bulbs of it myself when you put it on 
the market, and you may place my 
name on your mailing list.” 
Mrs. A. H. Austin. 
Outlook for Flowers. 
It is worthy of note that the conventions 
so far held this season have shown that all 
the horticultural interests of the country are 
coming back strong, now that the war is 
over. The demand for flowers seems to have 
been increased rather than diminished by 
war-time conditions. This has surprised 
some people, but the truth is that flowers 
proved to be one of the best antidotes of the 
war horror. Flowers brought dying soldiers 
back to life. They soothed the sufferings 
of the wounded and assuaged the grief of 
those in distress. Soldiers abroad learned 
the love of flowers which characterize the 
people of Europe. When they came back 
they gave more attention to the flowers of 
the homeland than ever before. All this 
has been reflected in the prosperity of flower 
growers and retail dealers. The demand for 
nursery stock has proved far greater than 
expected. It has been difficult for some 
time to buy plants of garden Roses, except in 
a few varieties. Many plantsmen have sold 
direct to the public instead of to the trade. 
There has been a tremendous call for Gladi- 
oli and Dahlias. Flower boxes are coming 
back into favor and even the big stores and 
business houses are resuming the custom. 
The one thing that is calling considerable 
agitation is the practice of department 
stores in selling cheap plants. This is a 
matter which will have to be taken up very 
seriously. — Horticulture. 
Bulb curing tray used by Mrs Joseph H. Wessel. 
Mrs. Wessel describes it as follows : 
“ The frame is 37y2 inches high, at the base 2 ft. 5 
in. x 2 ft. 10 in. The shelves are 7 in. apart, and each 
shelf has a 2V4 in. strip all around. The shelves are 
made of galvanized fly screen and the wood parts are 
% in. x % in. pine strips. We have used it for six 
years, not only for curing Gladiolus corms, but also 
for drying fruits and vegetables. It is very light and 
can be carried in and out doors very easily.” 
