76 JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. c January so, ism. 
the last mode of culture. Atmospheric conditions are not without 
their influences, but these may be overcome by the methods re¬ 
commended— i.e., good soil when the plants are delicate, poorer 
when they are strong, and the third system to secure grace and 
colour. It is well also in propagating it to choose any small cut¬ 
tings, for large ones are always coarse. Cultivators must have 
noticed how this holds true of many variegated plants, and espe¬ 
cially of Cyperus alternifolius variegatus. 
Variegation or albinism is undoubtedly a disease, and is even 
infectious, as among Abutilons for instance ; and when the condi¬ 
tions under which a plant is growing are specially favourable the 
plant is enabled to overcome the disease, while under the 
opposite conditions the disease holds its own, or even overcomes 
the plant. Disease generally is not desirable, but to the albi¬ 
nism in plants we owe much of the brightness of their foliage. 
More obscure is the effect of poverty or high feeding on the 
stripes of French Marigolds. Cultivators of these have often been 
annoyed to find plants which have been producing fine striped 
blooms suddenly produce blooms perfectly dark, at other times 
pure yellow. As in the case of variegated plants, the cultivator 
has the power of controlling this tendency, and by the same 
means. Marigolds which show too much yellow and too little 
dark colour in their markings will change a shade or two by 
being mulched with manure and watered, if the season is dry or 
the soil poor ; and the addition of liquid manure will make the 
change more rapid. If care be not taken, however, this may 
cause the yellow to disappear. Flowers that are too dark may be 
altered if the roots of the plants are loosened with a fork. Even 
changes in the weather—as from cool and moist to hot and dry, 
and vice versa , will totally change the character of a bed or row. 
To some it may be information to know that we hold a remedy. 
—S. H. 
REVIEW OF BOOK. 
The Rosarian's Year Book. 1SS2. Edited by the Rev. H. H. 
D’Ombrain. London : Bemrose & Son. 
In the “ Year Book ” now before us we have, as a frontispiece, a 
photographic portrait of the Hon. and Rev. J. T. Boscawen, Vice- 
President of the National Rose Society, a gentlemen well known 
in horticultural circles as one of the most enthusiastic as he is 
one of the most skilful of gardeners. Not only does he know 
plants well, but he also knows how to grow them, and that is 
more than can be said of all “ plantsmen.” The Editor, there¬ 
fore, made a good choice in selecting Mr. Boscawen’s portrait to 
adorn his annual. 
The articles which compose this year’s issue are of the usual 
style of Rose literature, and are well and practically written, but 
they generally do not differ materially from what are to be found 
in the current horticultural periodicals. “The Enemies of the 
Rose and their Injurious Consequences,” by Mr. G. Baker, is an 
exception, however, and is the best and most exhaustive paper 
on the subject we have seen. The same remark is applicable to 
Mr. C. H. Hawtrey’s humorous and graphic description of “ Our 
Flower Show,” which we cannot resist extracting. 
OUR FLOWER SHOW. 
Everybody agreed that we must have a flower show at Crawford* 
There was one at Eversford, and another at Walesdon, besides the 
big one at Cartham. There was no doubt we should be wretchedly 
behind the times if we did not hold one. Boffer thought so. And 
James Greybridge declared at once that he should get the thing 
up himself, if no else did. My heart always sinks when I hear 
Greybridge speak like that. I know so well what I am in for. 
Well, we had a meeting, and resolved ourselves into a Committee. 
“That showed plenty of resolution on our part,” I observed : but 
nobody laughed, and Greybridge begged that I would not try to turn 
everything into ridicule. Thereupon the whole Committee looked 
pained; whilst Greybridge, who is always making the most idiotic 
jokes— really idiotic ones—regarded me with self-complacent dis¬ 
pleasure. 
Major Milman wa3 elected President—" I don’t understand this 
sort of thing myself, don’t you know ; but if you really want me to 
be President, I’ll do my best. You must explain to me what I’ve 
got to do, don’t you see, and then I’ll try and do it.” 
Fortunately, we had on our Committee a nurseryman who knew 
what a show ought to be : or I tremble to think what an exhibition 
we should have made, not so much of flowers, as of ourselves. Grey¬ 
bridge was made the Secretary—why, goodness knows ! But he 
evidently expected it, and people always let him have his way. None 
appeared anxious for the post of Treasurer, as Greybridge at once 
let it be understood that it was not the Secretary’s duty to canvas for 
subscriptions. I instinctively knew what was coming, and devoutly 
wished I could make my nose bleed, as I used to do sometimes at 
Eton, when I didn’t know my lesson and felt pretty sure that I 
should be called up to construe. “ Treasurer,” cried James ; “ why 
there you are at once 1 Briggs is the very man for it! Local Secretary 
to the Rose Society ! Awful fellow to dun you for subscriptions ! By 
Jove 1 he actually gets one out of me !” Roars of laughter followed 
this remark, and, in spite of my expostulations, I was elected Trea¬ 
surer by acclamation. 
The drawing-up of the schedule was left to a Sub-Committee of 
three, of whom it is needless to say Mr. Steven3 the nurseryman was 
one. The most glowing account of the New Horticultural Society 
was concocted by the Secretary, and published in every conceivable 
form. I will not harrow the reader’s soul with any account of what 
I went through in collecting the subscriptions. I did collect them, 
though my wife never ceased to tell me that she could not imagine 
why I was such an idiot as to take all this trouble for a stupid flower 
show. 
James Greybridge had kindly enough given permission for the 
Show to be held in his park. He only made one stipulation. There 
must be a scythe race. “ Put it down in the bill of fare,” said he to 
me, as I was correcting the proof of the schedule. (By the way, I 
always fancied that this was the Secretary’s work, but somehow the 
proof was sent to me for correction). I had never heard of a scythe 
race, much less seen one. “ Never seen a scythe race,” cries James ; 
“ why, where have you been all your life ? ” Erom Greybridge’s 
manner one would suppose that scythe races were to be witnessed 
daily on the high roads. 
“ Well, just explain what you really mean by a scythe race.” 
“ Oh,” says Greybridge, “ you have a plot of ground which wants 
mowing. Divide it into so many strips, and let each fellow mow his 
strip as quickly and neatly as he can. Capital fun ! Oh, you know, 
we must have a scythe race.” 
So we gave in on this point, and allowed the scythe race ; but we 
were firm when James wanted to have a consolation race (!) for all 
those who had not won a prize at a show. “We might have a regular 
good handicap,” he said, “ two hundred yards, you know; or, we 
might divide them into flowers, fruit, and vegetables 1 What a chance 
for the Scarlet Runners ! they’d go like Beans, eh ! Oh, I think it’s a 
pity ! It would have been the success of the Show 1 ” However, we 
were obdurate on this point. For once in his life Greybridge did not 
have his own way. 
As the Show was to take place in his own park, Greybridge had 
undertaken to make all the arrangements. “ Some little trouble 
perhaps,” said he ; “ but that’s nothing to me. I shall enjoy it. All 
that you fellows have got to do is to mind your gardens, and grow 
something fit to show ! Leave the rest to me ! I’ll see you through ! ” 
Mr. Smithers, our vicar, who was on the Committee, was delighted 
to think that the matter was in such good hands. “ Capital fellow, 
Greybridge, isn’t he ? ” said he to me ; “ I wonder what we should do 
without him.” I am afraid I did not respond with much enthusiasm, 
for I own I felt a qualm or two about James. You see I knew him 
so well. 
About a fortnight or three weeks before the date fixed for the 
Show I received a hurried letter from our valued Secretary. “ Very 
sorry, but he was obliged to go away unexpectedly—going down to 
Murchison’s, in fact, for a week’s cricket, and would, probably, be 
expected to stay there for ten days or so after, as they were getting 
up theatricals. Of course quite impossible to refuse Murchison. 
Would I just see to the arrangements for the Show ? I shouldn’t find 
much to do, as he had given things a good start. He would be sure 
to turn up in time for the Show itself, as he shouldn’t like to miss the 
scythe race. Trentham, the butler, and the other pampered menials 
would assist me.” Then he hoped I was all right “ up to now : ” that 
he, for his part, would be “ all there when the bell rang,” ifcc., &c. 
Then he wandered off into a jungle of slang, no doubt with the idea 
of making good his retreat, finishing up with “ your obedient servant 
to command, J. G.” 
My obedient servant! I wish he was 1 I’d command him. 
I felt sick at heart. I didn’t dare tell Mrs. Briggs. But she caught 
sight of Greybridge’s handwriting, and a glance at my face told her 
the rest. I’m afraid I’m not a good actor. 
“ You old goose, Jack, how can you be so easy-going? Mr. Grey¬ 
bridge makes a regular slave of you. Tell him that you’ll have 
nothing to do with the stupid thing.” 
No : for our own reputation we must carry the Show through. So 
I sent a line to Mr. Smithers, enclosing James’ epistle, and asking 
him to help me. In half an hour I had his answer —“ of course he 
would, with pleasure; would I come and lunch, and we might make 
a start at once.” I was not surprised to find that Greybridge had 
done next to nothing. With only a fortnight before us the task 
seemed almost too great. 
The first thing to do was to choose our ground. We went all over 
the park to find the likeliest place, as a good deal of the success of a 
Show such as ours depends on its being in a pretty, and above all 
things a get-at-able spot. After a good inspection of the best 
localities, we determined to have it just outside the lawn-tennis 
ground and flower garden, which was divided from the rough park by 
a neat iron railing. This was approved by Trentham as being so 
convenient for the carriages, albeit Smart—though otherwise acknow¬ 
ledging the advantages of the place—was “ afeard of its being a bit 
swenky if we had any wet.” 
To describe all we got through in that fearful fortnight is beyond 
my strength. I am not equal to it. Perhaps this is as well; for I 
doubt if the narrative would be very entertaining to read. 
