514 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
June 13, 1895. 
material of younger minds is very susceptible of impressions must 
be admitted. A little reflection will show that we elders have 
brought forward into our lives some of the manners of our teachers, 
to be agaiu carried on by others into theirs, and this imitation, if of 
the right kind, is the sincerest form of flattery. Further reflec¬ 
tion will throw out the stronger light of responsibility it carries 
with it. 
From personal experience instances might be quoted of places 
where an unwritten (not unexpressed) law prevailed that the young 
men should be of good manners and good appearance. The latter 
part of the stipulation is not here to the point, only so far as may 
be allowed that courteous behaviour is an important accessory to 
appearance whatever that appearance may be. Probably this 
experience can be endorsed by others, who have found in some 
shortcomings of their subordinates the cause of a reproof from 
headquarters, with the unpleasant duty of passing it on to those 
whom it directly concerned. One worthy old gardener did, who 
framed an apology for a lad by saying, “ Well, my lady, his manners 
are no’ verra guid, but he has plenty o’ them.” In this case excess 
of zeal had prevented that nice discrimination between servility 
and courtesy, resulting in manners which were offensive. But 
quantity will not atone for quality ; hence I would point the 
moral to a rising generation and say. Cultivate good manners 
as assiduously as you would cultivate your plants for judicial 
inspection at a flower show—nay, more so, for gardeners of all 
men are always under judgment by experts in judging of men 
and manners. 
Passing on to another phase of the subject hardly secondary in 
importance we may note how pupils not only grasp the letter of 
the teaching, but catch the spirit of the teacher. * We see how 
energy, perseverance, and kindred virtues, which may be summed 
up under the head of smartness, are by some form of animal 
magnetism conveyed and made to permeate the staff. Wellington 
remarked, “Had Buonaparte been with the army in Spain the 
moral force of his name would have been equal to 40,000 men.” 
It may not be easy to apply this moral of war to the art of peace ; 
yet it is not difficult to recognise the attributes which insure 
victory in our field of work. 
The power of will is a mighty lever, and there are but few 
obstacles barring the road to success that it is not able to remove. 
We need it, for the go-easy manner of gardening is now ancient 
history. We think, act, work, and live in an atmosphere heavily 
charged with the electric conditions of a new manner of living. 
All this means wear and tear to the human engine, and never was 
there more need of that valuable lubricant a cheerful manner to 
keep all running smoothly. Without it this rapid rolling of the 
wheels of life brings the danger of friction. Fortunately there is 
a refining influence in gardening which is a potent factor in 
character formation, but unfortunately there are elements in it 
playing at cross purposes, producing with some conditions of men 
examples which may be termed touchy. This touchiness is 
productive of much discomfort to all concerned, especially to the 
touchy one. Good and capable man he is goes without saying, for 
it is from the vantage ground of skill he overlooks a graciousness 
of manner. No advocacy of weakness is to be deduced from this, 
for firmness and courtesy may go hand in hand. 
Truly there are crops of uncomfortable things perpetually 
springing up, only waiting for a little nursing to develop into 
noxious growth. A rough manner oft covers a kindly heart; in 
some cases so completely that it la a matter of surprise to find such 
exists, and it seems a matter for regret that an ever kindly heart 
should be thus cloaked, for all its beams are wanted to cheer on 
our young travellers in the arduous path. In all the varying 
conditions of life (our life), and to all men diversely gifted, there 
are times when the wisdom of the following quotation is at least 
worthy of trial, viz,, “ If thou art a master be sometimes blind, if 
a servant sometimes deaf.”— Observer. 
LILIES IN ABUNDANCE. 
In the heart of most people lurks a love of flowers. Of course, 
in some the flame of love burns ardently, in others, well, there is 
just a living spark, and that is all. If it were left to “ the masses,” 
and possibly to the “ classes,’’ too, to decide on the favourite 
English flowers, the votes would go for “ the Bose and the Lily 
and the Daffydowndilly.” During the summer season there are 
few who fail to become possessors of at least one bunch of Roses, 
so many flowers come under that head, and so few, alas ! come up 
to the perfect type. Far be it from me to deprecate humble 
efforts, but even the smallest and weakest grower might do a little 
to improve tho culture of this queen of flowers. A little pruning 
at least, a little attent'^^n to situat’on, and a little manure do work 
such wonders. Even in large gardens, presided over by “Mr. 
Prunewell,” somehow or other he or his satellites pass by on the 
other side, and leave the standards with heads like pollard Willows, 
and the dwarfs with too crowded a growth of small shoots, and 
occasionally something suspiciously like Manetti. But this is not 
Lilies. In the winter months town folk see in the best florists’ 
windows pots of magnificent forced Lilies, which go to adorn the 
mansions of the great; later appear buttonholes, whose modest price 
brings them within reach of those who can afford a few pence for 
the gratification of eye and nose. Between Easter and Whitsun¬ 
tide, but like them a moveable feast, appear bunched up masses of 
partially opened flowers surrounded with a fringe of green leaves, 
about as unnatural in appearance as can possibly be made, and the 
flowers bearing as much resemblance to their forced sisters as the 
Crab of the hedgerow to a good ripe Blenheim Orange. Now this 
is about what thousands of our countrymen ever see of Lilies, and 
even under these depressing conditions their loyalty to the flower 
continues strong. 
Will you see and hear of better things, such things as I saw only 
the other day ? You shall see woodland Lilies to perfection. Our 
ticket, by the courtesy of a noble lord, admits four between the 
hours of twelve and seven. The walk is almost too wearying, and 
there is stabling at the head-keeper’s. The entrance lodge, winh its 
fantastic gables and black beams, takes you in memory to the 
western counties. Two magnificent Copper Beeches flank the gate ; 
a broad drive, beautifully kept, with wide grassy borders, and 
beyond them for some distance runs a line of Yews that have 
braved many a severe storm of heavy snow and sharp frost. Here 
and there are Scotch Firs, Beeches, and in the opener parts a 
graceful Deodara, but the main part of the wood is Oak. There 
are at intervals broad open spaces where the young trees are 
planted, in various stages of growth, of course. In the youngest 
plantations abound flowers of every hue and shape, for this bit of 
country is rich in its flora. In the heart of the wood we will put 
up. There we find the head-keeper’s lodge and his pheasantry ; 
they mean to rear 3000 young birds this year. What we want to 
see and do next is best done on foot. The rides are broad, undu¬ 
lating and charming. You do not go far before the eye is attracted 
by a close growth that comes up almost to your feet. The leaf is 
suspiciously like a Lily ; but yet, can that be ! Turn which way 
you will, walk till your legs are weary and your back will bend no 
more, or rather perhaps will no more straighten, still the same sight; 
acres on acres, up to a thousand, and still the dense green foliage, 
and among it the sweet bell-like flower. 
The fantastic twigs of the Oak with its young leaves make a 
network of glory against the blue sky. Here and there the tall 
Columbine, purple, blue, or white, gently tosses its plumed head. 
A stately cock pheasant struts past unmoved ; the air is full of the 
song of birds, the hum of bees, and the scent of flowers. Yon may 
sit down and gather a large bunch of Lilies just where you are, 
but you cannot do that ; you move on and on, human nature is so 
strong, and you think there may be even better beyond. Now is 
the time to remember absent friends, and bunch after bunch is 
carefully laid aside in the basket your provident guide supplied—a 
basket of whose dimensions you were inclined to jeer on leaving 
home. You ask if this earthly paradise is public ? Practically so, 
as tickets are given to every respectable applicant, and the pleasure 
given cannot be counted by the tickets issued. You may and 
possibly have seen glorious gardens which are the pride and glory 
of the stately homes of England ; but did you ever see anything 
that gave you such pure pleasure as this garden of God’s own 
planting, where Nature has her way untrammelled and Nature’s 
children play around her knee ? 
I write a plain unvarnished tale, but it is simply a true picture 
of what I have seen so often that I would fain have others see as 
it were through my eyes, though language is inadequate, and the 
pen of the readiest quails before describing the haunt of the Lily 
in the great woods of N. Lincolnshire during a visit at Whitsuntide. 
—H. G. F. 
HARDY FLOWER NOTES. 
So far as weather went the month of May well deserved the 
appellation of the “ merry month.” Cloudless skies and brilliant 
sunshine prevailed almost every day, and were we not inveterate 
grumblers those of us who are growers of hardy flowers might join 
cordially in singing the praises of the past month. Yet we 
cannot but think of the flowers which seem to enjoy alternations 
of cloudy and sunny days, and which have this year displayed their 
blossoms for a shorter period than usual, unable to stand longer 
the power of that orb which, after all, seems to call them into 
being. Some of these opened to delight us with their frail and 
fleeting yet beautiful blooms, and soon shrivelled under the heat 
