146 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
August 16,1894. 
DRAWING FOR GARDENERS. 
I AM glad to see that “A Worker” (page 121) considers 
drawing an acquisition in a gardener. To my mind it is an 
absolute necessity. Gardeners are continually complaining of the 
low wages they receive, the long hours, and arduous duties they 
have to perform ; and gardeners, depend upon it, you will long 
have to submit to this treatment unless you strike out afresh and 
leave this “ rule-of-thumb ” and “ plans-in-your-head ” system. 
Would a master builder tell his foreman to build a house, 
without, besides giving him full details as to quantities and 
qualities, a minutely drawn plan ? If he did, what kind of a house 
would it be when done ? And yet there are many head gardeners 
who say to their understudies or assistants, “ This or that portion 
of the garden must be done so-and-so ” without giving them any 
set plan or better idea than what kinds of material are to be used. 
Can we wonder at so many failures ? I have in my eye at the 
present moment a garden of some 8 acres, 5 of which are included 
in the pleasure garden. This garden for some years has been charm¬ 
ing, and each year there is a material change ; often the shape of 
the beds on the lawn are altered, some removed, and others added. 
Although this continual change is going on it is always up to 
excellent, the colouration of the various beds and borders is always 
in keeping, and the harmony of the different occupants always 
complete. Why ? For the simple reason that the gardener is an 
exceedingly good draughtsman, and every winter prepares the plans 
for next year’s improvement in such detail that all the flowers and 
coloured foliage plants are marked in in crayon. Thus the new 
garden can be seen in such form that the dullest of his assistants 
knows what to expect when the work is completed and the beds 
and borders planted. Although I have closely watched this garden 
for several years I have not seen or heard of a bed being “ planted 
and pulled to pieces three times in a day.” 
Then, again, there are few horticultural architects, and how 
many failures do we see where ordinary ones have been employed 
in the construction of conservatories, vineries, and other glass 
houses. These failures might be minimised, if not entirely done 
away with, if the gardener were consulted ; and if he were (even 
in a rough and ready way) able to demonstrate the shape and 
position the various houses should assume, so as to leave nothing 
but the ornamental or finishing-off part to the architect proper. 
I do not wish to run architects down, but I must say there are 
very few who understand the requirements of plant houses; and if 
the growers or gardeners could combine with the architect the 
result would be obvious. But how few architects would condescend 
to consult an illiterate gardener, whereas if the said gardener 
could convey to paper his ideas, he might with success assert his 
right to be heard ? 
Then there is another aspect, the kitchen garden. If plans were 
■ prepared, and spaces for various beds allotted, how much it would 
facilitate the preparation of the seed order and the proper rotation 
of crops, and how much it would relieve the principal, as he would 
not be required at his assistant’s elbow continually. How many 
of us have, at various times, had a well-grown fruit or a very 
beautiful flower which we should like to have immortalised ? This 
has had to go, because words could not describe it as it deserved, 
and our hand could not give the pencil or brush the impetus 
necessary to portray it on paper. The acquisition or necessity lies 
near our door, but how few persons like to open the door and take 
it in. I live in the centre of a community where some 4000 persons 
earn their living directly or indirectly by gardening, and during 
the past winter it was hard work to keep a class of a dozen going, 
although the charge was only 2s. per head for the session. 
And again, as secretary of a large horticultural society I had an 
offer from a gentleman of a substantial sum of money for prizes 
for a design of a garden by gardeners under twenty-one years of 
age, and although I brought it under the notice of fully twenty 
who were qualified, not one would take up the pencil. Con¬ 
sequently the matter dropped through. Gardeners, wake up!— 
W. Bell, Leicester. 
FLORAL FACTS AND FANCIES.—4. 
Poets and naturalists have both noted the fact that the wild 
Daisy braves every sky; there is no month of the year when it 
may not be seen in bloom by the wayside or along the fields. We 
may add that in our gardens and houses Daisies are also to be 
found all the year, varied as to size and colour by crossing or 
cultivation ; one of the most curious, perhaps, is the proliferous or 
“ Hen-and-chicken ” Daisy. Those general favourites, the Mar¬ 
guerites, are often called Daisies, though nearly allied to the Asters 
and the Chrysanthemums, and the usual name reminds us of Herb 
Margaret, one of the oldest belonging to the “ little Cyclops with 
one eye.” Again, there are the Michaelmas Daisies. Our ancestors 
were partial to them because they flowered at a time when the 
garden was getting almost bare; but these gawky plants are 
largely superseded by more attractive species of the tribe. 
Probably it was from its flowering late in autumn that the 
Michaelmas Daisy became a token of “ farewell.” 
For the origin of the name “ Daisy ” we must inquire of old 
Chaucer, who is so full of the praise of the “ Ee of dale,” a flower 
he evidently associates with dawn, and which he is almost inclined 
to worship as a type of purity and exalted virtue. He reminds us 
that into this little flower the Queen Alceste was said to be 
changed, who sacrificed her life to rescue that of her husband. 
Following Chaucer many others take the white Daisy to represent 
“innocence,” and partly for this reason, perhaps, partly because 
children are very fond of the flower, about North Britain it is the 
Bairnwort. In the name of Margaret (or Marguerite, as we have 
it now) there may have been, so it is thought, a comparison made 
between the flower and a pearl, and some Margarets of historic 
renown have taken the Daisy for their symbol or device, notably 
our own Margaret of Anjou, whose followers often wore Daisies, 
and the beloved Margaret of Yalois, the “ Marguerite of Mar¬ 
guerites ” of her royal brother, Francis I. As to the cultivated 
Daisies, generally the significance of “ sympathy ” is attached—this 
may be the floral meaning of our Marguerites ; but to the crimson 
Daisy belongs one that is special, it represents “ beauty unconscious 
of itself.” The Italians have given a name to the Daisy expressive 
of its being markedly the flower of springtide, and the shy habit 
of the common species has also led to its having in addition the 
significance which attaches to the Pansy of “ thoughtfulness.” 
Opinions vary with regard to the meaning of the Passion 
Flower, but a preponderance of authors give it that of “ religious 
feeling” or “deep faith,” which is connected with the fancy that 
saw in the flower emblems of the “ passion ” or “ suffering ” of 
the Saviour of mankind. A curious mistake, however, has arisen 
in reference to this. Parkinson, indeed, describes the plant as one 
well known in 1629, his species probably being not the familiar 
Passiflora caerulea, but P. incarnata, and alludes to the odd notions 
of the Jesuits then current; hut it is certain the flower was not a 
sacred emblem during the Middle Ages, because it had not left 
America. It appears to be the case that the object to be seen on 
some church glass of old date, which was thought to be the Passion 
Flower, is really what is called the “ Rose-en-soleil,” a favourite 
badge of the Yorkists, drawn in outline, with added embellishment. 
It does bear a resemblance to the other species deemed so suitable 
for Easter decoration, and which is frequently represented now on 
windows or screens. Imagination saw on the column of the flower 
the scourging post, and its tendrils represented the scourges and 
bonds, the stigmas were the nails, its stamens the five wounds of 
our Lord. According to some the ten petals were the Apostles, 
excluding Peter and Judas ; but others took the three sepals also 
to make the number thirteen, adding Matthias. The inner circle 
of rays showed the crown of Thorns, the outer and larger circle 
that of Glory. 
Varieties of the Foxglove are, I think, becoming more common 
in gardens, nor is it surprising that the bells of a plant thus 
named should be generally fancied to represent “ dissimulation ” 
or “insincerity.” Though Miss Pardoe, who noticed the wild 
species growing, as oft it does in the West of England, upon arid 
unpromising ridges, regards it as a figure of virtue striving against 
adversity, and appearing more beautiful by contrast. But why 
should its name be Foxglove ? Discussions upon the subject have 
brought out some curious facts, yet they cannot be said to have 
settled the question. It seems probable that the name was origin¬ 
ally “ Fox’s Glew,” or music, the comparison being not to a glove, 
but to a bell, referring to one favourite instrument of Anglo- 
Saxon times, a ring of bells hung upon an arched support. “ Fox- 
bell,” indeed, is one of the names for the plant that occurs in 
Norway. This, however, leaves the “ fox ” unexplained. A 
familiar supposition is that instead of Foxglove it should be 
“ Folks’-glove ;” the allusion may be, not to the designing 
quadruped, but to the fays or fairy folk, and in that case “glove” 
would mean that our ancestors fancied the Foxglove bells might 
be suitable hand coverings for the tiny people. It is probable, 
though not quite certain, that the earlier gloves had no fingers. 
But on the other hand, from its growing oftimes in places that 
foxes might frequent some still think the plant received its name 
from them. It is in evidence that the Celts regarded the fox 
with reverence ; more, that they made gloves, and laid them near 
his den to propitiate him, believing that if he was tempted to put 
these on his sense of honour would prevent him touching their 
fowls! 
Probably the old notion, that the honey of the Rhododendron 
was of a poisonous character, led to its flowers being taken as a 
symbol of “danger,” and the same significance attaches to the 
Oleander. Both plants were sometimes called “ Rosebay.” The 
