f-38 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER 
[ December 23, 1887. 
the bark under the joint of a young tree, then wiped my thumb dry, 
and taking a Mistletoe berry pressed it with that thumb to the cleaned 
portion of the bark until the berry stuck to the tree. Nothing more was 
done. In fifteen months, or the next spring but one, appeared the 
plumule, slow of growth, not increasing much the next year. In this 
way I have made it grow on sundry young Apple trees in my garden, 
and in Thorn hedges also,” and in this way he sajs “ I believe it can be 
propagated on many trees, but not by incision. The most successful 
way appears to be to remove the seeds from the berry, and then smear 
them on the bark of the tree.” It may be mentioned that in a garden 
at Emsworth the seeds of the Mistletoe placed on a young Apple tree 
shortly after Christmas germinated, although the tree was afterwards 
whitewashed, and at the present time has several vigorous shoots about 
3 inches long. March rather than Christmas is probably the better 
time to place the berries on the bark, as the seeds are then more fully 
matured. 
The Mistletoe appears to be of slow growth, but sometimes attains 
large dimensions. A specimen from Brittany is mentioned as having 
measured 10 feet in circumference—one which grew at Ashling, near 
Chichester, was computed to have only grown a quarter of that size in 
fifteen years. A writer in the standard observes :—“ The chief supply 
of Mistletoe for the London market comes from Normandy and part of 
Brittany. In those provinces this parasite grows luxuriantly in the 
great Apple orchards. We get a little from various parts of England, 
but the quantity is quite insignificant compared with that obtained 
from the north-west of France, where indeed it is really cultivated and 
not left to grow by chance. Tons upon tons are conveyed across the 
Channel by the various lines of steamers trading with the north of 
France, and sent up in crates to the London markets to fetch prices from 
about 10s. for a small crate to about 25s. or even 30s. for a large one.” 
Mistletoe is a somewhat tender and perishable plant as compared with 
Holly, which is so largely sold with it at Christmas, and the dealers in 
it run proportionate risks. A man may buy at auction in the market a 
crate, the contents of which are to outward appearance in good condi¬ 
tion, only to find when he unpacks it either that the Mistletoe has been 
so knocked about as to be almost worthless, or that the middle portion 
consists of poor and scarcely marketable stuff—for the peasants of 
Normandy and Brittany are not akogether free from guile, and I am of 
opinion that if the London Mistletoe could be supplied from our English 
southern counties it would be certainly more reliable, but of this more 
presently. 
I would here quote an account of its sale at Covent Garden Market. 
In Christmas week it begins between two and three o’clock in the morn¬ 
ing, at which time it may be presumed few of us would be likely to be 
bidders, but at Farringdon the market is that dark, cold, raw, time it is 
even earlier. The Mistletoe is then sold by auction. The auctioneer, each 
accompanied by his clerk and a porter, is mounted on a stand and sur¬ 
rounded by a crowd of buyers. “ Next lot,” shouts the auctioneer, 
pointing to a crate of Mistletoe, “ 10s., 12s., 13s., 15s.—quickly—16s., 
18s., 20s.—yours.” The hammer descends, the auctioneer nods to the 
buyer, and the sale is completed, all but the payment of the money, of 
course, the whole time occupied having been less than a minute. The 
costermongers, retail dealers depart in the semi-darkness to vend the 
Mistletoe sometimes in single sprigs to hang in the hall, the sitting 
room, or perhaps the kitchen, to be placed there as an ornament, or 
placed over the head as may be. 
Now if Mistletoe can be sold in London at Christmas at prices vary¬ 
ing from 10s. to 25s. or 30s. per crate, it may be queried whether it 
might not be profitably cultivated at home, instead of our obtaining 
such large supplies from abroad. These are days not only of agricul¬ 
tural but of general depression, and we have need of utilising many 
overlooked resources. It may be asked why should we be mainly de¬ 
pendent on France for our supplies of Mistletoe. Why if it can be 
cultivated there should it not be cultivated here, in the Somerset, 
Sussex, and Hampshire orchards and hedges, from which crates of this 
valuable commodity could be so easily forward'd to town without the 
cost of the Channel transit. This may seem a somewhat prosaic ending 
to these notes on this curious but interesting plant, with all its quaint 
traditions, but were I to buy a sprig of Mistletoe, with its bright white 
glistening berries at Christmastide, I must say that I would prefer it of 
home growth, and not have of foreign production one of the most 
ancient amenities in our English folk lore, which from the times of the 
Hruids to present day has always been a favourite with our ancestors, 
is still so with ourselves, and will doubtless continue to be so when “ a 
thousand years are gone.” 
THE CULTURE OF BOUVARDIAS. 
There is no plant so useful at this time of the year for decoration 
either in the conservatory or intermediate house as Bouvardias, and 
anyone with a few old plants can readily increase them by means of 
cuttings. After the old plants have flowered they are placed in a cool 
house, and scarcely any water is given for a time. They are then 
pruned a little and placed into heat. Here they soon commence 
growth, and when the shoots are 2 or 3 inches long I take them off 
with a heel and dibble them into pans filled with leaf soil and silver 
sand ; they are then plunged into a bed where there is a bottom heat 
of about 65°, and in a few weeks most of them will be rooted. As soon 
as they are rooted they are placed on a shelf in a cooler temperature for 
a few days; they are then plac d singly in 3-inch pots, using a compost 
of loam, leaf soil, and sand, and are transferred to a moderately warm 
house. They soon begin growing, and the tops are pinched out to make 
them bushy. I place th m into a cooler temperature for a short time, 
admitting plenty of air, and by the end of June they have become 
quite hardy, ready to be planted out in their summer quarters. A 
border with a south-west aspect suits them admirably, and by the 
middle of September they will have four or five good shoots, and 
are ready to be transferferred to 6-inch pots. The result will be a 
profusion of flowers during the winter. Good free-flowering varieties 
are Yreelandii, white ; Dazzler, scarlet; Alfred Neuner. a good double 
white ; President Garfield, a double pink variety ; Hogarth, scarlet, 
with large truss- s ; Jasminoides, a sweet-scented variety ; and Elegans^ 
a bright scarlet.— T. Tebby. 
THE DINNER AT ANDERTON’S—IN TWO CHAPTERS. 
CHAPTER I. 
Let it be explained for the information of country readers who like 
to be acquainted with the facts of a case that “ Anderton’s ” means a 
great hotel and the loftiest building in Fleet Street. There are at the 
least two other tallish buildings on the same side of the renowned 
thoroughfare—namely, the Daily Telegraph and Journal of Horticulture- 
offices, which together can no doubt boast of issuing the “ largest circu¬ 
lation in the world.” The dinner referred to, as may be anticipated, is 
that of the National Chrysanthemum Society, of which perhaps a free- 
and modest account may be allowed to appear supplementary to the- 
precise report that was given last week. A very correct and particular 
narration of the proceedings will be attempted, and if there should 
happen to be a slight departure from absolute accuracy in every detail it 
must be attributed to a lapse of memory and not to an intention to- 
mislead. Notes could not be taken because I had no pencil, and if I 
had one, a shorthand report of the speeches was altogether out of my 
line. 
It was not a grand dinner attended by the elite of the fashionable 
world, but what may be termed a useful three-and-six penny spread ;• 
good enough for the money, and equal to the daily fare probably of 
average Chrysanthemum growers. Anyhow those who were there 
appeared to enjoy it, including myself as one of them. There was no- 
parson to say grace, but one exalt d personage with the Star of India 
glittering on his breast honoured the company with his presence. Sir 
Guyer Hunter is an M.P. for aa east end constituency, but on which- 
side he votes 1 neither know nor care. The Chrysanthemum is merely a 
plebeian flower, or has been so far; but it is looking up and gaining 
aristocratic admirers, so in due time we may hope that President 
Sanderson may be able to call on a chaplain for the occasion for dis¬ 
charging a befitting duty. It is curious out of so many clerics who pay- 
homage to the Rose that so few have fallen in love with the Chrysan¬ 
themum ; but there are a few, and there will perhaps be more as time- 
rolls on. But what has this to do with the dinner 2 Nothing except for 
noting an omission. 
And since I am on this track, let me note a few more omissions. A 
total stranger to “ Anderton’s ” and to nearly everybody in the great and 
crowded room, I yet had a very good guide, who appeared to know his- 
way about, and to be acquainted with almost everybody. With a 
curiosity that is, perhaps, not unpardonable, I wanted to see what those- 
gentlemen were like whose names were more or less familiar to me. 
Glancing down the toast list I whispered, “Are they all here?” 1 
Straining his neck my friend replied, “ Yes, I think so, except Jones, 
and I don’t see him.” “ Is Dr. Hogg here, then ? ” “ No.” “ Dr.. 
Masters 2 ” “ No.” “ Shirley Hibberd ? ” “ No ; big pots, you know 
and the two doctors will have to be at the Horticultural Club Dinner, I 
expect; while Shirley,’ I believe, doesn’t dine out.” “Not dine out 7 
Why I read not long since of his eating and drinking ‘ real turtle ’ with 
the Lord Mayor, and telling how they make it with conger-eel ; then 
going on with an extraordinary narration about ‘ Taming a Turtle,’’ 
finishing something like this : * I will say no more at present. The story 
they tell about me is that through dining with the Lord Mayor he 
went off his chump, and talks ot nothing but turtle ; and it is perfectly 
true.’ Not dining out I why, there is his own word for it.” “ Oh, he 
was only romancing; but where did you see it?” “In the ‘ Goldert 
Gate,’ a five-shilling Christmas book, w-ith three shillings’ worth of non¬ 
sense in it and two shillings’ worth of sense. I call it the sublime and 1 
ridiculous book, and will send it to you for your trouble.” “ Thanks ; 
but I can afford five shillings.”* There’s independence, or goodhearted¬ 
ness ; he permits me to bother him, and will have nothing in return. 
So I proceed, “ Is Wynne in this great company 2 ” “ I don’t see him 
busy, perhaps, or at the H. C.” “ Is he a ‘ big pot,’ then ? ” “ Getting 
on.” “Good. James Douglas—is he h re?” “No; he doesn’t muck 
care for the frivolities of life, I fancy, but is good company when he 
does come out.” “ John Lairig? ” “ No ; at the H. C., probably.” “He 
is ‘ getting on,’ then 2 ” “ Rather ; but two or three of his sons are 
here. That’s one—the dapper-looking little fellow, with the snug 
moustache, and he is as smart as he looks.” “ Well, I’ve found some¬ 
body at last. Can you point out William Earley?” “Earley? No 
he doesn’t like being out late. To see him to advantage you must be at 
the ‘Palace’ Show early in the morning.” “ Very well, then. George 
Gordon 2 I want to see him.” “ Sorry ; but you won’t see him to-night. 
He doesn’t care for luncheons, dinners, and that sort of thing—rather 
shuns them ; and I don’t think anything would have tempted him here 
but boiled Chrysanthemum.” 
* The new edition of this work, recently published by E. W. Allen, is onls 
2-. 6d.—E d. 
