92 
THE LADIES MAGAZINE OF GARDENING. 
autumn, when the flowers are tolerably far advanced for the next season. 
I then place it for a week or two in a room without a fire, and, when the 
flowers begin to expand, introduce it to the sitting-room, where it is a 
source of delight for several weeks. But the Persian cyclamen is more 
particularly the object of my favour, and having in vain attempted to 
raise it from seed, I shall beg of you to give me some hints on the subject, 
after hearing the failure of my attempt. 
Some three years ago I was presented with a magnificent specimen of 
this plant, covered with flowers all proceeding from one large old bulb, 
which nearly filled the pot. As it appeared likely that the bulb would 
soon be exhausted, I determined to try to raise a fresh supply from seed, 
which I understood would flower the third year after sowing. 
It is always an interesting object in the Persian cyclamen to watch the 
capsules as one blossom falls off after another, gradually coiling up in the 
long foot-stalks, till they at last reach the surface of the pot, where they 
remain to ripen on their mother earth. When the last of the beautiful 
flowers had fallen, I cut off all the seed-vessels but one—the largest and 
fullest—and plunged the pot in a warm border. When the seed was 
ripe, which I knew by the capsules beginning to burst, I sowed it in a 
small pot, expecting only one or two seeds to grow. How great was my 
surprise and delight, in about a month afterwards, to find as many as forty 
little plants springing up, which must have been almost as many as there 
were seeds in the capsule! 
I now looked forward with great pleasure to being able to supply my 
friends with these beautiful plants, and had promised a bulb to several 
whom I knew to be as great admirers of them as myself. As the plants 
were very much crowded in the small pot, I transplanted them before 
winter, and was not a little proud to find they had made bulbs the size of 
a large pea. I placed them for the winter in a room with a southern 
exposure, without a fire—but here my mortifications began—one after 
another I saw the single green leaf springing from each bulb drop and 
wither ; at first I thought the leaves were decaying naturally, previous to 
the bulb going into a state of repose, but from appearances I judged 
otherwise, and on examination I found that the leaf-stalks rotted off just 
above the surface of the soil. In this manner they all disappeared, with 
the exception of two, and with some anxiety I turned up the mould to 
discover the state of the bulbs. I found them all more or less decayed; 
some just beginning to blacken, others in a pulpy state, and some scarcely 
traceable in a gelatinous, slimy substance. The two which were still 
fresh I removed to a dry, airy cellar, in hopes of saving them from the 
general wreck ; but on searching for the bulbs in the pot in the spring, I 
