106 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
[ February 9, 1893. 
booming in all directions anent “ small holdings ” and “ allotments.” 
Titled advisers, lectures here, and lectures there, many of them 
beginning from the “top stave of the ladder ” in lieu of issuing 
from the bottom rung. I suppose my 15 acres may be called 
a “ small holding,” and my chief reason for coming to it was to 
enable me to end my Potato experiments in peace without a chance 
of being turned out or having to dodge backwards and forwards to 
Bedfont in Middlesex, as I was obligated to do when I lived at 
Woodstock. I had fairly worked to the end of my tether here in 
improving our chief important esculent for food, when in came the 
fashion for monstrous tubers, to which I would not submit myself. 
It caused me, however, to resort to draining and levelling my land 
for planting fruit, forest, coniferous, and other trees, and to lay the 
chief of my arable to grass, with addenda for farm and house 
sewage, cowhouses, stable, barn, and sheds. It may be easy to 
lecture about “small holdings” and other things, but I do not often 
learn about expenditure. The above necessary improvements meant 
for me £1500 at least, with years since of waiting before much 
recoupment could be reaped for the outlay. 
Pray do not wake up, sir, by suspicion that I am trying to 
wheedle you into politics! What I want to say is so intimately 
connected with the culture of our soil, that I hope you will allow 
me to explain that I am an Englishman, consuming my own 
produce, which I have in the main created, living on and out of 
it, and residing here long enough to behold it as a living grown up 
fin du siecle lecture. I will not eat or use a particle that is 
foreign more than I can possibly help. I drink no beer because of 
the foreign malt, and eat scarcely any bread—or the compound 
that is called bread—because of its fabrication from foreign flours 
or mixtures ; my Potatoes are far more nourishing. I would eat 
bread made from hearty English Wheat flour if any farmer near 
me would grind it. I have my own fed (chiefly upon my Potatoes) 
and home-cured bacon, poultry and eggs galore, home-made butter, 
and plenty of honest milk, home-made jams of all kinds—my 
“ missus,” you know, was taught her cooking at Her^Majesty’s School, 
Windsor Great Park, some forty to fifty years ago—home-made 
wines and cider ; fruit, all the year round, beginning with green 
Gooseberries and ending with Wellington Apples on the same 
advent ; in fact, we are nearly vegetarians ; but when I do treat 
my family to a joint of fresh meat, I send to our local butcher and 
put him upon his honour to let me have a joint of bred and fed 
English mutton. I never became intoxicated ; I never smoked a 
pipe of tobacco, a cigar, or cigarette in my life ; and as I strike 
seventy-six to-day (February 1st) I do not intend to begin, I 
do an honest day’s work of from twelve to fourteen hours, rarely 
missing, and I do not remember ever having to call in a doctor, 
which proves that the above system of living cannot be far wrong. 
You may say, “What has your system of living got to do with 
the readers of this paper, or with us ? ” Well, a mere old woman’s 
bagatelle—let me say “a drop in the sea.” But if millions of 
one’s countrymen, not necessarily “ small holders,” would be 
patriotic enough to do as I do in their systems of living, and 
favour hearty English produce, it would prove a very good other 
side to the question, in affording a natural relief for the depression 
of our home industries, and also spur on the re-cultivation of 
our native soil; something more universally substantial for us 
than bothering at present about “Protection.” That, I presume, 
will have to come from below, when the majority of us become 
“ small holders,” to find out where the shoe pinches. This may 
safely be deferred till—say the Greek Kalends.—R obt. Fenn. 
HARDY FLOWER NOTES. 
Lychnis chalcedonica fl.-pl. 
There are few flowers of summer possessing more brilliance 
than the double scarlet Lychnis, L. chalcedonica fl.-pl., known in 
olden times as the Double Scarlet Flower of Constantinople, or 
Nonesuch. A native of Russia, it probably came to us from the 
City of the Golden Horn, whence in all likelihood it derived its 
popular name. The origin of the specific name is said to have 
been due to seeds of the single variety having been brought from 
Chalcedonia. The name Lychnis is derived from Lychnos, a Greek 
word signifying a lamp, and considerable discussion has taken place 
as to the sense in which the word has been applied to the flower, 
some considering that the downy leaves of some of the species 
were used as wicks for lamps ; others that the inflated capsules 
resembled a lantern ; and others, again, holding the opinion that 
the name was applied in consequence of the flame-like colour of 
the flowers. However this may be, there is no question that the 
last opinion would receive ample countenance from the flower 
under notice, for even in the brightest days of summer, when flowers 
seem to glow with colour, and when Nature has put on her most 
gorgeous floral attire, the double scarlet Lychnis stands conspicuous 
with its shining blooms. In Parkinson’s time it was comparatively 
rare, and that true admirer of flowers describes it as a glorious 
flower. In after times it became more plentiful, and then the tide 
turned, and the ebb-tide of fashion carried the Nonsuch into com¬ 
parative obscurity. Such a flower could hardly remain long 
neglected, and it is now more frequently met with, although still 
too rare. It is seldom, too, that we see it as it should be grown 
— i.e., several plants together ; but more frequently a solitary 
specimen with a few heads of flower is what is found. It cannot 
be said, however, that the beauty of the plant is thus properly 
seen. The Chalcedonian Lychnis is stiff in habit, and lends 
itself better to grouping than to growing as a solitary plant. Place 
half a dozen plants together well back in the border in rich soil, 
and the result will be that they will make a notable feature in 
the garden. 
The double scarlet Lychnis, although not what may be called 
a high-priced plant, is not a cheap one, and it may be well to 
indicate the method of propagation which was more largely 
carried on many years ago than now. Division of the plants in 
September may be adopted where they are large enough, but the 
best method is to take cuttings of the lower parts of the flower 
stems in July. There should be three joints in each cutting, and 
two of these should be beneath the surface. If watered and shaded 
these may be placed in the garden, but it is generally safer and 
more convenient to put the cuttings in pots and place them in a 
greenhouse or frame. 
The double white Chalcedonian Lychnis is but seldom met 
with, a fact which is probably due to the greater popularity of the 
double form of L. vespertina, a most valuable flower. L. chalce¬ 
donica alba pi. is not equal in value, but unless the collection is 
necessarily limited it should find a place also. Three feet is about 
the ordinary height to which L. chalcedonica will attain. 
Serratula tinctoria, 
In sharp contrast to the splendour of the double scarlet Lychnis 
is Serratula tinctoria, the Dyer’s Saw-wort, a plant about which I 
have had some hesitation in writing. 
The inclusion, however, of a bunch of the typical species and 
one of the white variety in a first-prize stand of twenty-four 
spikes or bunches of hardy herbaceous flowers, and the fact that 
I have frequently met with the plant in gardens as a Centaurea, 
leads me to think that a notice might be of some value. It may 
be as well to state that the prize stand was in competition with 
six or seven others from large gardens in most of which hardy 
flowers are largely and admirably grown, and also to make it quite 
clear that, although not personally interested in the show, I am not 
to be held as endorsing the award. So little known are the 
Serratulas that I do not recollect of meeting with any other plants 
of this genus in any private garden, and, with others, I have made 
many searches into descriptions of tbe Centaureas in hope of finding 
the name of this plant. It is undoubtedly, however, what Philip 
Miller describes as “ Serratula vulgaris flore purpureo,” the 
“ common Saw-wort with a purple flower,” the white variety being 
“ S. flore Candida.” 
Miller’s description of the Serratulas is an admirable one for 
those who are not adepts in botanical terms, and when I say, as 
Miller says of the genus, that S. tinctoria “ differs from the 
Knapweed in having the borders of the leaves cut into small, 
sharp segments resembling the teeth of a saw,” a fairly accurate 
idea of the appearance of the plant is being given. I think, too, 
that Miller went near the mark when he said that this plant 
was seldom admitted into gardens, but that as a plant which 
would grow in the closest shade it might be placed under trees 
where it would thrive and flower extremely well, and add to the 
variety. This seems to be the plant now known as S. tinctoria. 
It may be thought that too much space has been occupied 
with the Serratulas, but in view of the recent discussion on 
judging herbaceous flowers, and also from the knowledge that 
