242 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
[ Sept ember 17, 1891. 
through the winter. In comparing the standard and dwarf examples 
of Germaine Caillot, I personally imagined that the difference was more 
in appearance than in reality ; but we did not make any measurements, 
and no doubt Mr. Cant was right. Still, Germaine Caillot has certainly, 
I should think, a Tea cross in its constitution. I wish I had asked to 
compare standard and dwarf specimens of Madame Ducher (H.P.), for 
instance. 
The large numbers of Roses of certain sorts grown to order for 
America were rather a matter of wonder to us ; but I fancy they do not 
make budding out of doors answer over there, and I suppose the plants 
were principally meant for pots under glass. Our transatlantic cousins 
are credited in general with liking “ anything bigbut I saw Boule 
de Neige reserved for them as well as Ulrich Brunner. 
There w r ere very few noteworthy blooms to be seen worthy of 
mention, wdiich may seem odd, but of course it was just the slack 
season, and we came perhaps with eyes and tastes which had grown 
rather hypercritical during the show season. Moreover, I should have 
mentioned previously that all available blooms, here and at Mr. F. Cant’s, 
had been cut the day before for a large display at a Colchester bazaar. 
Buttonhole Teas, which gratefully respond to even a couple of 
decently fine days, were perhaps looking best. Among these I pointed 
out to my friend an unusually fine strain of Madame Falcot, which 
seems to me to be decidedly larger and fuller than the well known 
variety. Whether it will prove to be distinct or nothing more than an 
improved strain is now being tested; but the smallest sport for the 
better is worthy of propagation, and a good Rose slightly improved may 
be really more valuable than an absolutely distinct sport. 
In taking leave of our kind friends I registered a mental determina¬ 
tion to make my visit earlier next year, and a general hope w r as ex¬ 
pressed that next season would at least be an improvement upon that of 
1891.—W. R. Raillem. 
A DAY AT THE LAKES. 
Not much to be seen of the Lakes in a day, many of your 
readers will say, but if one only gets a route arranged, and is in 
the right frame of mind, he may see not only a great deal of the 
scenery, but the associations with which this delightful country 
abounds will linger in his mind for many long days. So one day 
last week I left Liverpool by the early train and reached Winder- 
mere shortly before eleven. As the conveyance took me from the 
station to the boat beautiful glimpses of scenery opened out here 
.and there. The houses, built of stone, the greater portion showing 
no signs of mortar in the building, seem to be thoroughly in 
harmony with the surroundings. 
Proceeding up the Lake to Ambleside, few could fail to be 
impressed by the magnificent view opened out before them. The 
day was not of the brightest, but what of that ? The summits of 
many of the hills in the distance were clouded in mist, whilst 
below the effects the clouds produce must be seen to be believed. 
Many artists give us canvas representations of these cloud effects 
which in some instances are looked upon as exaggerations, but 
seeing the deep purples, golds, and greys made me feel that I for 
one must have been mistaken many times. The journey up the 
Lake being accomplished, I joined the Grasmere coach at Water- 
head, and it is this delightful drive that is perhaps the most 
•enjoyable feature of the day. We pass along the road skirting 
the Lake, and at every turn new views open out. At one 
moment we are under avenues of splendid trees, at the next we 
have views of the distant mountains, many clothed to the summit 
with Pines, Larches, &c., while small streams of water, like silver 
streaks, flowing down help to swell the beautiful blue waters at 
their feet. 
We pass Wordsworth’s seat, and the house in which Hartley 
Coleridge lived. There are old-fashioned cottages, quite in keeping 
with the rusticity of the place, over which are growing the Virginian 
Creeper and purple Clematis side by side, the former just beginning 
to put on its crimson tint, and forming a pleasing combination with 
the deep purple of the Clematis. Here in a profusion to be found 
in few other places is Tropaeolum specio3um, growing over the 
fronts of the houses, but it is not so fine as I have seen it in 
former years. The gardens, too, how I wished time would have 
permitted me to make an examination of their conten's. Liliums 
in many varieties were expanded and expanding, and seemingly 
quite at home ; herbaceous Phloxes, with flowers of the most 
delightful hues ; Carnations and old-fashioned Roses adding their 
fragrance, and many other flowers which could not all be noticed as 
the coach whirled past, were to be seen in these gardens, planted 
without any orthodox system, and growing and flowering in the 
greatest luxuriance. Lovely hardy Ferns, amongst them the Royal 
Fern and many other kinds, are here to be met with. It is little 
wonder that Wordsworth has left us so many delightful reminis¬ 
cences of his beautiful country. There is no need to ask the way, 
as we enter the old-fashioned church gates at Grasmere to look on 
the resting place of the poet, for the grass is already trodden by 
the feet of numberless admirers from all parts of the world. At 
one corner lie Wordsworth and his relations, whilst a few yards 
distant is the grave of Hartley Coleridge. 
On the return journey we pass the residences of De Quincey, 
Harriet Martineau, the late Dr. Arnold, and others. In no way 
can the- scenery be seen to such advantage as from the coach. With 
railways would in time come works of various kinds, the smoke 
and gases of which would destroy much of the vegetation. We 
have in the railway journey glimpses of all this, where for miles 
may be seen trees dead or leafless. Is it benefit to their fellow 
creatures that is the one consideration of those who would deface 
such a charming retreat ? I am afraid not. Is it not rather as 
Wordsworth has so beautifully put it:— 
“ The world is too much with us ; late and soon, 
Getting and spending we lay waste our powers, 
Little we see in Nature that is ours ; 
We have given our hearts away—a sordid boon ? ” 
—R. P. R. 
NOTES AT READING. 
Disheartened and dispirited flower gardeners may be forgiven if 
they turn somewhat impatiently from the gloomy pictures, real and 
descriptive, of the effects of the season, and seek to find relief amongst 
indoor plants. The beauty of the bedders has been seriously marred in 
many places, and annuals are greatly lacking in colour, while notwith¬ 
standing care in tying, herbaceous plants have suffered from the heavy 
gales. The a v sence of warmth and light has of course not been without 
a certain influence on plants under glass, but they at least have only 
suffered in a negative sense from wind and rain, and greenhouses and 
conservatories have had more than their usual share of patronage from 
the frequency with which the elements have rendered the flower garden 
untenable. The choicer florists’ flowers in their improved forms are of 
great usefulness, and it is interesting to note, when opportunities arise for 
observing progress at the respective fountain heads, that the work of 
improvement still goes on. Messrs. Sutton & Sons of Reading hold an 
honoured place in the ranks of those who have enriched our store of 
valuable flowers, and their nurseries in London Road, Reading, which 
are a few minutes’ walk from the great seed warehouses, are invariably 
full of interest to those for whom flower fertilisation has special 
fascinations. 
The large flowers and rich colouring of the ennobled Gloxinias now 
ready to any grower’s hand show forcibly what immense strides have 
been made with this particular flower. Even a dozen or score of plants 
are capable of producing a most bright and cheerful effect in a green¬ 
house or conservatory, but at Reading there are between 3000 and 4000 
of them, a truly wondrous display. There are many hundreds of plants 
that were raised from seed sown in February this year, dwarf, well 
clothed in healthy foliage which curls down and hides the pots (5-inch) 
in which they are growing, and bearing several large flowers. The 
colours are very beautiful and diversified. This is an excellent strain 
admirably grown. One variety named Her Majesty is of exceptional 
beauty. It is a pure white, with large substantial flowers on very short 
sturdy stalks. It has the true crassifolia habit, and when sent out 
should speedily become popular. Many persona fail to have Gloxinias 
in good condition, amateurs frequently erring by saturating the foliage 
daily. This is a serious mistake. They like a cool shaded spot and 
plenty of w'ater at the roots and a genial atmosphere during growth and 
flowering, but from the seedling stage no water should be allowed to fall 
upon the leaves. 
Begonias provide another strikingly beautiful display. Two or three 
housefuls of plants bear brilliant testimony to the merits of the “ Read¬ 
ing Beauty ” strain. The great majority of the plants now in bloom 
were sown in February of the present year, and for some time they have 
been flowering in rich profusion. They are remarkably dwarf and Com¬ 
pact in habit, with the flowers thrown well up above the foliage on 
substantial stems. The day of the Tuberous Begonias with flowers half 
hidden amongst straggling foliage is past. The type is hopelessly out of 
date. The newer forms have not lost in beauty of colouring or size of 
flower by the change in character of growth. We now have blooms 
of the largest size standing boldly up clear of the leaves, and the rich 
effects which Begonias are capable of producing are more fully realised 
than they could ever have been by the old type of plant. A pure white, 
a deep crimson, and an orange-scarlet were particularly noticeable, and 
the rose and pink shades, which are so popular and pleasing, are 
numerous. The plants are in 5-inch po‘s. There are, too, some 
thousands growing out of doors, and it is worthy of note that the rain 
has by no means washed all their beauty out of them ; on the contrary, 
the flowers have stood it remarkably well. 
Cyclamens sown in November last are the picture of robust health 
and vigour. They are in 6-inch pots, the surface of which is almost 
hidden by the abundant leafage, and they are unmistakeably handsome 
even while flowerless, for the marbled foliage is distinctly ornamental. 
Differing from Gloxinias, these plants love moisture over the leaves, and 
it is practically certain that the majority of the failures which occur 
with them are attributable to too dry and arid surroundings. There are 
between 2000 and 3000 plants, all of the same sturdy healthy type, and 
all bristling with flower buds. The houses in which they grow are 
low, and the roof is only sloped sufficiently to allow of rain running 
freely down ; this, combined with the high stages on which the plants 
rest, bring the latter close to the glass, and no doubt accounts for their 
