52 
THE FLORIST AND POMOLOGIST. 
burst in their efforts to find more accommodation. This is a kind of flori- 
cultural explosion I am not anxious to witness, though it would be of a very 
harmless character. 
My Tulip culture, up to the present time, furnishes me with but meagre 
details. I have before alluded to White Swan, a good and dwarf-growing 
early-floivering white, well adapted for forcing. The glory of these has 
departed; and I miss their charming white flowers among the occupants of 
my window conservatory. The Single Van Thols are also gone out with them 
—their career terminates in the third act of my domestic floricultural drama. 
A beautiful silken rose variety, named Proserpine—one of a plurality of fast- 
developing flowers of single Tulips, the occupants of a glass dish—has attracted 
the notice of many a passer-by, and also been well-nigh smothered under the 
caresses of visitors; and has hitherto reigned supreme within the circle of its 
transparent region till with the last day or so, when a white Pottebaker thrust 
up its snow white cup to contest its absolute sway. Three or four bulbs of 
this last variety occupy the centre of the dish ; Superintendent, a violet-striped 
flower, not yet in bloom, and Proserpine, surround them ; and outermost is a 
ring of Scarlet Van Thol and Golden Prince, also not yet in flower. But of 
this division, more anon. 
With Hyacinths in glasses I think I could hold my own against “ all 
comers” who grow this favourite flower. I am pleased to see so many 
evidences of the prevalence of a taste for growing Hyacinths in that part of 
the metropolis where I reside, though the flowers still occupy the old-fashioned 
tall glasses that are in great danger of toppling over when surmounted by a 
fine spike of flowers. I use Tye’s registered glass; they are nearly as cheap 
as the old-fashioned ones, and much more ornamental; and the innovation I 
have introduced seems to awaken some interest about the region of my 
abode. I have in flower Tempel Van Apollo, a beautiful blush variety, 
with large waxy bells; Alba Maxima, a pure white, that throws a very fine 
spike ; Madame Hodson, a deep pink flower, that will presently develope into 
a fine truss ; Admiral de Coligny, azure blue, with large and very showy bells; 
Lord Grey, a French white, changing to a beautiful light pink; and Emicus, 
an old but valuable light blue flower. These six varieties are in the van of 
my annual procession; and so well do they promise that I am hopeful of being 
able to exhibit them at the Horticultural Society’s Hyacinth Show, on the 9th 
of March. In their wake marched on La Candeur and Queen Victoria, both 
whites; M. Matthieu and Bleu Mourant, both blues ; Amy and Madame 
Goldschmidt, reds. The last six varieties are only just showing colour, so they 
must be reserved for future comment. 
I have never had occasion to change the water of any one of these 
Hyacinths since the glasses were first filled. At the outset I place in each 
glass a few lumps of charcoal, and the water does not become offensive. I 
allow the water just to touch the base of the bulb, and when the bulbs are in 
flower I fill the glasses nearly up to the brim. At this stage they imbibe a 
great deal of moisture, especially if the atmosphere around them be warm. I 
have seen dwarfed, undeveloped, and misshapen flowers before now, and on 
examining the glasses have either found the water very offensive, or else not 
within an inch or so of the base of the bulb. A temperature as evenly 
balanced as possible is best for them. When the sun shines on my window I 
give them some air by lowering the top sash a little way; when it is very cold 
I remove them from the window to a table that is placed as far as possible from 
the action of the fire. I do not trouble to place my bulbs in the dark when 
they are first put into glasses ; but if late blooming is wished for, it is desirable 
that confinement in the dark should be resorted to as an auxiliary to effect 
