92 
THE FLORIST AND POMOLOGIST. 
have Von Schiller, rich deep pink, with reddish stripes; Fireball,* bright deep 
red, very showy; Amphion, a very handsome claret-colonred flower, but has a 
very small bulb, just such a one as any one who knows but yery little about 
Hyacinths would be unwilling to buy in a shop; it is one of a few small bulbs 
from which you are sure to get a good spike. Jenny Lind, pale rose; and Le 
Prophete, a very handsome flower, blush belt, with a deep pink stripe on each 
petal. These are single varieties. Three double Feds are also in bloom. The 
first, my old favourite Lord Wellington, a beautiful delicate blush, with very large 
belt, thickly set on the spike. I have a grand spike of it, and a second spike is 
also fast developing itself. Unlike most of the double varieties, this one is well 
adapted for culture in glasses. The second is Czar Nicholas, deeper blush, but 
smaller bells; it is, however, a very pretty variety; and Lieutenant Waghom, 
deep red, a good colour, but forms a poor spike. Of single Whites I have Vesta, 
pure white, with small spike and belt; Kroon Princess, a good pure white; and 
Alba Superbissima, a fine spike, with beautiful waxy pure white bells. I had one 
double White named Paarlboot; it was as pure in colours as could be desired, but 
throws a small spike. Another batch, to form a succession to these, is progressing 
favourably. They must be dwelt upon by-and-by. In my process of cultivation 
I use no artificial manure, nor do I resort to any expedients to enhance the size 
and beauty of the spikes. I water them freely, with water slightly chilled, during 
the time they are in flower. It is sometimes astonishing what a quantity of 
water a Hyacinth will absorb during the period of its bloom by capillary action. My 
second and third batches of Hyacinths in glasses are now in the plenitude of their 
beauty, or exhibiting signs of decay. Of single Whites, La Candeur; Queen 
Victoria, a capital variety for growing in a glass ; and Madame Talleyrand; all 
good. Of single Blues, Bleu Mourant, an old but valuable variety ; M. Matthieu, 
rich dark glossy purple, with white eye, but small; and Madame Coster, deep 
lilac, with white centre. Of single Feds, Amy, rich bright colour; Sir Henry 
Havelock, deep pink, with darker stripe; La Dame du Lac, pale rosy pink, an 
excellent flower ; Princess Helena, very similar ; and Madame Goldsmith, a very 
beautiful variety, pale pink, with carmine stripe, and having a splendid spike. 
Of single Yellows, one only at present is in flower—King of Holland, creamy 
yellow, streaked with reddish buff, well worthy of cultivation ; and one double 
yellow, Jaune Supreme, pale canary, with large bells, but very few of them. 
I have had, and still have, a beautiful display within. I love to see the people 
who pass along the street stop and admire. Many linger and retire reluctantly. 
The human face lights up with pure enjoyment as it inspects my poor show. 
Within the shadow of a curtain I watch with great interest the effect expressed 
in the countenance—no jmssion, no resentment, no envy even, at least expressed. 
I am gladdened, too, and rejoice that I can fling a small ray of pleasure across the 
path of some, perchance it may be, who are sorely pressed by trial, or affliction, 
or infirmity. My display is but a very imperfect type of that great change just 
now passing slowly but surely over every tree, and hedgerow, and field, and lane. 
The Daisy and the Primrose— 
“ Thee, -when young Spring first questioned Winter’s sway, 
And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight— 
Thee on this bank he threw 
To mark his victory”— 
These are leaping up, responsive to that great feat that summons them to their 
annual resurrection, and, in their wake, will arise to activity all that great pro¬ 
cession of forces that changes suspended winter into the reviving spring, and that 
again into all the marvellous vitality and beauty of living summer. 
Quo. 
BIRDS. 
I have read with much interest the bird controversy. I formerly patronised 
bird-killing. My old man, now dead, gave me no peace till he had a gun, with 
which he shot in one season one hundred and eighty blackbirds and thrushes. At 
the same time he also shot my trees and Faspberry canes. The reason of the 
