G4 
THE FLORIST AND POMOLOGIST. 
[ March 
display : March and April are their best months. This plant, however, is not one 
to lose any of spring’s delights by any inattention of its own. When the days 
lengthen, by the time there is half an hour’s more daylight in the sky, the 
sensitive, expectant Auriculas have found it out. In growth grave, deliberate, 
and slow all the summer, brisker for a while in autumn, and all but suspended 
in winter, their spring life is in liveliest contrast to all the rest, so quick, intense, 
and powerful. It is an ever-fresh surprise, even to an old florist; and must be a 
delight indeed to the beginner, who has wisely got his plants together at a quiet 
time, and brought them into bloom by his own management. There is far more 
real enjoyment in thus commencing the culture of a plant, than there can be in 
cheaply buying it in flower, when all the skill and credit —honours not trans¬ 
ferable —remain another’s. 
Auriculas are rapidly increasing every day in interest and beauty. The 
thick-set winter habit is all laid by, and the rich young foliage, as it spreads, 
shows the full distinctiveness of character in each variety. In many plants the 
trusses will be rising up, and every day will disclose the floral secret of some full 
heart which we have been longing to know. Our fair favourite is a plant with an 
extensive wardrobe. It has a separate leafy dress for all the seasons, and the 
loveliest and richest is that for spring. Every adornment which the plant 
possesses is put forth to honour and grace the bloom ; and as if in delicate 
acknowledgment of how much its other beauties set off this, the Auricula is 
never shown as a cut flower. 
Even varieties in which Nature has denied the gift of meal (and meal is to 
the Auricula what “ moss ” is to the Eose) contrive to powder their flower 
stems and buds, and to dash a spray of meal upon their “ guard-leaves,” f.e., the 
leaf, that rises -with the pips, bending tenderly over them in their infancy, 
as with the nurture of a folded wing, and afterwards heightening the beauty of 
the expanded bloom by standing up behind it. 
Much of the work with Auriculas in March consists in taking proper care, 
one way and another, of the foliage. It must be kept in the brightest health, or 
flowers in abundance, and of high quality, cannot be produced. Do not let it get 
drawn for want of light, or for want of air. Do not let it flag for want of water ; 
and here I may say. the plants may have sufficient to keep the soil quite moist, 
but never sodden. No nearer rule can be laid down. The plants must be watched. 
Every pot will have its own time, regulated by weather, soil, porosity, and the 
evaporative surfaces of the plant. A large, elephant-eared plant of Othello will 
take several waterings to one that a plant of dry habit like George Levick will 
require. 
If a plant, certainly wet enough, should droop in foliage as if wanting water, 
more water will only hasten its death. It must be turned out of the soil, when 
the neck will be found almost rotted through. Cut back to a sound place (if 
there is one), and strike under glass. In this way I have saved the veriest heads, 
with hardly a ring of neck to them. 
