200 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
March 7, 1895. 
available for early Strawberries are shelves in Pine stoves, 
Cucumber houses, or other forcing houses in which high tempera¬ 
tures are maintained. Before taking plants into such positions they 
ought to be prepared by a few weeks’ sojourn in a greenhouse, 
vinery, or coot pit. This will help them to bear without injury 
the extra heat of the forcing house, where they may remain till 
the flowers commence expanding. The question then arises what 
to do with them when in bloom. We know perfectly well if 
they can be removed to an intermediate house, where the atmo¬ 
sphere is somewhat dry, and a little top ventilation afforded on 
all favourable occasions, a good set may be readily obtained, but 
houses or pits offering such conditions are not often at command. 
It therefore becomes necessary to compromise matters all 
round. This I find from experience is best done in the following 
way. Let us assume for example that our plants are arranged on 
shelves in a Cucumber bouse. As they come into flower they 
should be arranged together in the lightest part of the house, 
where the syringe may be kept from them, except on very bright 
days, when a slight “ dewing ” is often found to aid fertilisation. 
It is also necessary that the atmosphere of the house be kept some¬ 
what drier for the benefit of the flowering plants ; at the same 
time, if this is carried too far, those advancing into flower, as well 
as the Cucumber plants, will become infested with red spider. 
Damping the floor of the house should therefore be discontinued, 
and the Strawberry plants not in bloom, as well as the Cucumbers, 
be freely syringed once or twice daily, taking care to have the 
atmosphere of the house fairly dry at midday, a little ventilation, 
of course, being given and continued throughout the afternoon, 
except during very inclement weather. As soon aa a number of 
plants have set a few fruits each (from five to nine) remove the 
other flowers, and arrange the plants in the warmest.part of the 
house, filling up the places vacated with others advancing into 
bloom. Plants swelling their fruits require syringing several 
times daily when very bright weather prevails. When the 
colouring of the berries has well advanced, syringing must, of 
course, be discontinued, and for that purpose the plants ought to 
be kept apart from those not showing signs of colour. 
When the berries are evenly coloured it is a great advantage to 
be able to remove the plants to a cooler structure for a day or two 
before the fruit is gathered; but unless they can then be kept 
from cold cutting winds, I prefer to keep them in the warmer 
quarters till the fruit is gathered, because in cold airy houses 
Strawberries which have been ripened in much heat quickly lose 
their gloss, and are rarely improved in flavour. 
Another frequent mistake in Strawberry forcing is having the 
shelves fixed too near the glass, so near in fact that the leaves 
when fully developed are in actual contact with it. The result of 
this practice is that during bright days evaporation is so rapid that it 
is almost impossible to keep the plants free from red spider, and 
the swelling and ripening fruit is browned and burnt by the 
great heat, a condition of affairs which seems to puzzle not a few 
cultivators. Where this is so, my advice is, try the plan of keeping 
your shelves 18 inches from the glass, and I shall be much surprised 
if previous difficulties do not vanish. To assist fertilisation I 
prefer tapping the stems with a stick to the common practice of 
touching the anthers with a soft brush, and during bright days I 
like to syringe the flowers lightly. Watering is without doubt an 
important detail in Strawberry culture, and to the many mistakes 
made in performing it may be traced not a few failures. There 
are times during bright weather when dealing with plants in active 
growth when it is not an easy matter to over-water. Then in order 
to keep them in a satisfactory state dryness at the roots must be 
anticipated rather than allowed to take place, otherwise diminished 
vigour and undersized fruit will be the result. 
To allow the soil to become dry enough to crack away from the 
sides of the pot is a sure indication that this undesirable state of 
affairs has taken place. On the other hand, when we have a 
succession of dull days the soil ought to be allowed to get slightly 
drier than usual before water is given. It is when bright days 
follow dull ones that the greatest damage is done. At such times 
if the plants are carefully looked over about noon, in addition to 
the early morning watering, serious mistakes may often be avoided. 
The state of the weather in regard to dullness or brightness must 
give the key to the whole matter. While the fruits are swelling, 
weak liquid manure given at each alternate watering and an 
application of chemical manure on the surface soil will be sufficient 
to produce the best results.— Fragaria. 
DOWNHILL. 
Presumably men of the gardening occupation find in an active 
life so much uphill work that considerations of the reverse are 
banished to the dim and distant future. “ Sufficient for the day is 
the evil thereof.” Quite so; more than sufficient some days 
bring—circumventing weather, and fighting the minute, subtle 
forms of insect life. We are surrounded by enmity, yet not 
destitute of friendship as evinced by the outward and visible signs 
of requests for roots of this, slips of that, or “ What must I do for 
my plants?” So on, on, wresiling with foes, courteously 
facilitating the horticultural requirements of friends, happy in 
doing either or both, and happy in a busy life, head, hand, and 
eye concentrated on the object dear to the heart—gardening. 
So it is, I think, with most of us, and so it should be, the 
chief end and aim being to advance the loved art, which must 
in its turn elevate and dignify the class of which we are units— 
gardeners. Nor is the latter less worthy of consideration, for “ the 
proper study of mankind is man.” It is, indeed, the principal 
object to which all considerations are subordinate. Our work, or 
all good work ; our thoughts, or all good thoughts, directly or 
indirectly tend to the welfare of the human race. Yet, it is 
seldom time allows for more than a passing thought of this, the 
higher object. True, the problem is too vast, unless for political 
economists. Yet there is one section of it—one tribe of the race— 
which should receive more than a passing thought from us ; that is 
ourselves—gardeners. This problematic subject is one worthy of 
pausing at occasionally and pondering over. Some do this perhaps, 
yet the thought arises that the bulk of the great army of gardeners 
quartered in the British Isles do not. Such thoughts are but 
reasonable when scanning the report of the Gardeners’ Royal 
Benevolent Institution and noting the few, the comparative few, 
that recognise its claims to the attention of all. 
What percentage of men in fairly good positions participate 
in its benevolent work ? Probably it is not possible to say, for 
statistics are not obtainable. It may, at least, be reasonably 
supposed that the number does not exceed 1 per cent., and perhaps 
may be more correctly estimated by a minute fraction of that. 
From this may be deduced that this Institution, reared on the 
noblest foundation, is practically unrecognised by us as a class ; by 
the many who could help the few, some of whom it is morally 
certain will one day seek to reap where they have not sown. 
Why is it so ? Is it that it is unknown, or if known the 
knowledge of it is so slight that the object of it is not made 
sufficiently clear ? That it is heard of to receive but a passing 
thought from men whose life is one of thinking and of thought 
essentially elevating and humanising, appears evident. Few 
things are done or left undone without a reason. How is it 
then that the Gardeners’ Royal Benevolent Institution is ignored 
by so mmy good and capable men? Speaking for myself, and 
I venture to say for some few others, we should like to know the 
reason why. So much so that I would fain ask the favour of 
space in these pages for any answers the question might elicit. 
Not any of us can ignore the fact that there is a turn in the 
path of life where the downhill journey commences. This stage 
may be comparatively easy, smoothed by the success of earlier 
exertions, from which frugality and prudence have provided a 
margin for the rainy day, and this perhaps augmented by some 
consideration from others of long and faithful service. 
All such things give dignity to the journey, and though down¬ 
hill to the inevitable, it presents no sorrowful side. But can 
there be any more pathetic picture than the reverse ; to see a worn 
and weary brother going downhill destitute, alone ? To the world 
at large he is but one of the unsuccessful, and the world is but too 
ready to give him a push, for one of its maxims is “ Nothing succeeds 
like success.” But to us, is he not a gardener and a brother ? One, 
who perhaps has bravely “ stemmed Misfortune’s tide,” until 
sickness has cramped his energies, and now he drifts—drifts 
unsuccoured on, out into the great lone ocean of the world. 
Such cases rarely, perhaps, come under immediate notice, but 
they are not rare. Those who receive the yearly report and ballot 
