30 
THE FLORIST AND POMOLOGIST. 
[ February, 
not, take them off, if they have a neck. They may be struck readily in pots not 
filled with earth within an inch or two of the rim, and covered with a piece of 
glass. I use no sand about them, and do not like sand; where any quantity of 
it lies together in the soil, it seems to have a way of being closer and wetter than 
the surrounding earth ; and I do not think Auriculas, at any rate, care for it under 
such conditions. 
The presence of air in the soil is conducive to root-action, and indeed vital 
to root-life. Hence how roots will revel in the open crock-work in the bottom 
of the pots! How they rise to the surface of well-stirred soil 1 How they flourish 
round the sides of clean, porous pots ! How they bristle with white fur as they 
strike across some hollow space within !—it may be where a -wooden label has 
been removed. In days when I was collecting Auriculas—and I am a collector 
still, though it is mainly from among seedlings now—how well I remember 
noticing the underground differences between plants from various growers ! Here, 
for instance, would be a stuffy, pounded compost, a mere mincemeat, and not 
lacking sand. Boots would not stay in the ball, but struggling to the sides, 
wound round and round, lean white wanderers after something lacking. Other 
plants would come with roots so matted into every cubic inch of compost that 
the fibres were like those of grass for multitude and intricacy. It was a great 
lesson. 
I see that in the last number of the Florist, my friend Mr. Dean, whose heart 
is with all manner of Primulas, from a Primrose on the river’s brim to Smiling 
Beauty at the National Auricula Show, is at my side, with a strange thing in 
Auriculas, the unshaded or Self Alpine.” With genuine admiration of the flower, 
and touch of pleading in his words, he asks us what we think of this, and he 
introduces it as a claimant for rank and title among Alpine Auriculas. The 
flower comes before us with a broad enough distinction, but it is a rather awkward 
one, for it makes the flower an Alpine, with the very first and prettiest property 
of the Alpine left out. For it is not a mere benighted Northern idea that the 
“ Alpine ” shall be a flower of shaded ground-colours, but it is a leading property 
universally recognised among florists. So is the Golden Eye, and flowers possess¬ 
ing these properties will always take high precedence of those with pale eyes, 
or those nondescript new comers the Self Alpines. Beautiful they are, 
and cannot fail to be ; but to me, they have the look of dark piercing eyes, 
of an intensity that is almost fierce ; and I see no such loveliness in them as 
I find in the true Alpine, with all its tender, sweet expressiveness of softly-shaded 
petal, and the beauty of the golden centre. This class in its strict integrity 
forms a very lovely contrast to the Self proper, the consort of the edged classes. 
The Self, with its densely-mealed centre, must not trespass upon the shadings of 
the Alpine, nor the Alpine appropriate the pure ground-colours of the Self. 
Intermixture and confusion among them, in so far as they are floiist flowers, are to 
be deprecated. If there be Self Alpines, why not also Alpine Selfs, and a host of 
perplexing half-breeds ? Were I a grower of Alpines, I would admit none to the 
