June 13, 1895. 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
515 
and drought which accompanied their flowering days. Still, with 
all, we have had a royal time among the flowers, and though 
tempted at times to look ruefully at the work of watering some of 
our alpine plants, we can look back with pleasure on the depth and 
fulness of the enjoyment of the garden’s treasures. 
As the month drew to an end and June was ushered in, fair 
was the scene still presented to view. Crowning a rockery, pro¬ 
tected from the north and east by a thick hedge, the Golden Drop 
(Onosma taurica) was very attractive with its prettily shaped 
tubular flowers exhaling their perfume of almonds. At the base 
one of the best of the Alpine Bugles, Ajuga genevensis Brock- 
banki, showed its spikes of deep blue flowers. Near by the first of 
the Eastern Poppies, a seedling of P. orientale, had opened its great 
scarlet blooms. Clumps of Alyssum gemonense strove to supply 
the place once filled by its earlier sister A. saxatile, with its “ gold- 
dust ” flowers. The “ Columbine commendable,’’ as the old poet 
Skelton called it, was very pretty in its varied colours, and still 
more varied shades. The pleasing little Geranium lancastriense 
had opened its pretty flowers ; Dodecatheons were still in bloom, 
with their quaint-looking and beautiful flowers ; and Irises, Saxi¬ 
frages, Pyrethrums, Calochorti, Hutchinsia, Scillas, Cornflowers, 
and many others combined their beauty to wed us to the garden in 
which they dwell. There is thus no lack of texts from which to 
discourse, and as we pass along the walks we may select a few 
flowers for remark. 
The “ Golden State ” of California has yielded us many very 
beautiful flowers of both perennial and annual habits. Some of 
these, unfortunately, fail to accommodate themselves to our 
climate, and too often we have to mourn their loss. In the genus 
Brodisea, named in honour of a fellow Scotsman (J. J. Brodie) who 
was devoted to other forms of vegetation, we have some pretty 
bulbs, some of which are hardy in most localities in this kingdom. 
Among these is B. Howelli, the typical variety of which has 
purplish blue flowers, produced in umbels on long slender stems. 
It was introduced from California in 1880, but is not yet much 
seen in gardens, even where bulbous plants are largely grown. It 
is, however, of a new variety of this species that I wish to speak, 
this being known as B. Howelli lilacina. It came to me by way of 
Holland, its history being that it was received by a bulb merchant 
there among collected bulbs of the type, and on flowering was 
named lilacina as a distinctive title. Very pretty is it, and well 
worthy of being grown in good collections. Its colour here is of 
the palest lilac, approaching white. It might possibly be deeper in 
colour if grown in full sun, but it has been planted in a place 
where it is partly shaded by the branches of a Lilac tree, so that it 
is screened from the rays of the sun. It is about 18 inches high, 
and has withstood the past winter without any covering in a border 
of sandy soil. 
As I write Poppies are very fine, and before long they will 
be still more largely represented. Growers of hardy flowers are 
naturally desirous of increasing the variety of form and colour at 
present at command. There are several of the colour which seems 
to be pretty generally accepted as “ salmon ” colour, such as 
Papavers pilosum and rupifragum. This year I have flowered for 
the first time the variety of rupifragum known as atlanticum, and 
should it retain its present habit am inclined to think it is an 
acquisition of considerable worth. Some time ago I read the 
description of this Poppy in the “Journal of the Linnaean Society, 
Botany xvi.,” page 313, but could not succeed in hearing where it 
could be obtained until Mr. J. N. Gerard of New Jersey very 
kindly sent me some seeds from which my plants were raised. 
It is a neater and dwarfer plant than P. rupifragum, and with 
better formed flowers of much the same shade. It was found on 
the sub-alpine regions of the Greater Atlas, in Morocco. What 
would be very desirable would be some white and crimson forms 
of these Poppies. 
These notes would fail to do justice to one of the best of the 
hardy flowers in bloom at this season did they not make mention 
of a very beautiful Anemone which has been much admired this 
vear in the border. This is A. narcissiflora, introduced more than 
120 years ago, but still all too rare even in good gardens. It is 
strange that so many charming plants, which were introduced more 
than a hundred years ago, are yet seldom seen. A. narcissiflora 
grows about a foot high, and has numerous pretty white flowers 
of upright habit. These individual flowers remind one somewhat 
of those of some of the Narcissi, so that its specific name seems 
appropriate enough. It is a useful plane for the border or rockery, 
and will be found rather variable, which adds to the interest of 
several plants. Its beauty will commend it, and it is besides one 
of the flowers which, from having been grown in our gardens so 
long, help to link us, in thought at least, to the many who 
in days past loved their flowers, and whom we can think of as 
we gaze on plants they cared for ere they passed from this 
mortal life.—S. Arnott. 
IN THE MIDLANDS. 
Though Violas and Pansies formed the object of the pilgrimage to 
the Midlands last week (page 493), a glance may perhaps be taken at 
one or two “ side issues,” though there are certain people in the world 
so constituted as to more than smile at what they might possibly regard 
as the derogatory comparison. Fancy Pansies and Violas standing before 
gold and diamonds ! before a forest of Orchids ! and before a great 
speech by Mr. Chamberlain ! Is it not too absurd ? There, something has 
slipped out and may now as well fall in with the rest in the record of 
experiences. 
Mr. Chamberlain. 
Let no one of tender susceptibilities be alarmed of any intention to 
raise “ cheers and counter cheers ” by the mention of a name. For this 
particular occasion the right hon. gentleman shall not be regarded in 
the least as a politician, but as an interesting personage and an ardent 
amateur horticulturist. “ But that speech ; did you really hear it ? ” 
That is the way of the world—give a hint and it wants to know the 
rest; and it is a happy circumstance that we can enjoy an intellectual 
exposition as such, whether adherence be given or not to the sentiments 
uttered. Well, then the writer did hear “ that speech,” and laughed 
with the rest at the smart points of the great—orchidist. 
But it was all accidental. The grand Town Hall was lighted, 
curiosity being thereby evoked, and the facts elicited. '‘London Press; 
pass me in quick, please,” and I was in front of the platform forthwith, 
face to face with the lover of flowers. It was a sight not to hav 3 missed 
—a quiet, cool, pale-faced man, holding a packed audience of thousands 
in the hollow of his hand, drawing the cheers and laughter alternately 
as easily—well, as drawing corks ; then, while the multitude settled 
down, quietly arranging mentally the terms of another rhetorical shot. 
The coolness, the deliberateness, the consummate ease, the seeming 
nonchalence is indescribable. There is no rapid rush of eloquence, like 
wave dashing on wave interminably, but every sentence, and often every 
word, stands alone—clear, distinct, and telling. It must be a treat to 
the reporters. Mr, Chamberlain could have kept his cigar going all the 
time, as he did during his after dinner speech in celebration of a great 
show in the Aston Park Grounds some years ago, and that is more than 
some of our lecturers on horticulture could do—if they had the cigar. 
Jewels and Flowers. 
The Town Hall gathering was the night before the Pansy show. On 
the day after it inquiries were made for Tenby Street. “Snovv' Hill by 
cable tram to Hall Street, then ask again,” was the line of guidance. 
Birmingham is ahead of London with trams. In London and its 
suburbs horses are, with few exceptions, relied on. In Birmingham 
they are superseded by steam trams, electric trams, and cable trams ; the 
City, in fact, seems to be up to date. It has noble buildings with hand¬ 
some streets, and all so clean, the chief wood-paved thoroughfares 
being washed every night, and in the morning all seems fresh and sweet. 
Tenby Street is not in a palatial part of the City, but in the ‘‘jewellery 
quarter,” in which everything, from the cheapest to the most costly 
articles, belonging to the order of pomps and vanities are provided for 
the civilised and uncivilised world. It is hardly necessary to say that 
the street named is the business centre of the Messrs. Sydenham—a 
name as well known in the floral as the jewellery world, and brought 
into prominence in both by genuine business enterprise. 
The Diamond Eye. 
There are three Sydenham Brothers, and all appear to be “gone” on 
flowers; but one of them, the elder (Mr. George Sydenham), has to 
restrain his tastes in that direction tnrough fear. Of what ? Few 
would guess, at least correctly, if they tried for a year. It is lest he 
should lose his “ diamond eye.” It must not be thought he is like the 
fabled toad, and carries a jewel in his head, or wears it as an eye 
substitute or anything of that sort. The jewels are much less prominent 
as a rule. This elder brother of the trio says, if he were to watch bulbs 
and seeds “ like Robert,” and peer into rayless Pansies, searching for hair¬ 
like streaks, “ like William,” his eye would get out of joint for diamonds. 
He did not use the exact words, but meant them. That was clear 
enough, as he took out a handful of paper packets to show as might be 
expected samples of flower seeds, but really hundreds of glittering 
diamonds—some the size of Larkspur seed, some larger, some smaller. 
To the ordinary eye there seemed no difference between them, except in 
size, yet they differ in value widely ; but the true value of each can only 
be determined by the finely trained and highly educated “diamond eye.” 
These gems are set in pins, brooches, rings, sprays, chains, bracelets, 
necklets, coronets, and stored in trays in strong rooms, preparatory to 
their dispatch to retail tradesmen all over the kingdom. It would 
almost seem as if the diamond Sydenham looked after their production, 
the bulb and Pansy Sydenhams their distribution, keeping at the same 
time an “eye” on other things, and a pretty sharp one too. These 
other things are no doubt regarded as jewels in their way, for the bulbs 
and seeds yield floral gems, and Pansies and Violas glitter m the 
sunlight. 
It must not be imagined we have been gossiping about a jeweller’s 
shop having windows curtained with chains and bedecked with all 
kinds of “ vanities ” on velvet stands. No, the Tenby Street building 
is more like a bank, with mahogany counters acd rows of clerks and 
