162 
THE FLORIST AND POMOLOGIST. 
[July, 
bloom, so that from a fertile pollen-bearing plant a considerable number of 
flowers may be fertilised. 
About the second day after impregnation—varying somewhat with the age of 
the flower operated upon—the bloom will collapse, and from this time forward, 
until the ripening and gathering of the seed, the ovary should be carefully 
guarded from wet, which otherwise will surely destroy the work and hopes of the 
hybridiser by rotting the incipient seed. Let the flowers hang down till the 
petals are decayed, when they should be carefully removed, one at a time, care being 
taken in the operation neither to injure the seed-vessel nor st 3 des, which should re¬ 
main on as long as they will. The calyx, also, should be split down, so as to 
give room for the seed-pod to expand, and prevent the lodgment of damp. 
When the pods are ripe, which ma^* be discovered by their change of colour 
from green to straw, and by their fullness and hardness to the touch, they may 
be gathered, cutting the stems as long as possible, and hanging them in a cool,* 
dry room. When thoroughly dried, pack them up, and put away in any cool, 
dry receptacle, until required for sowing. 
There are some varieties which frequently do not throw up any styles (John 
Smith, E.P., for instance) ; in this case, it will be necessary to lodge the pollen 
on the top of the pericarpium, where the stjdes spring from. The earlier fertili¬ 
sation can be commenced, the better, as thus the plants have a longer time and 
opportunity to ripen the seed, which, when the season is wet, is very difiScult. 
Finally, let all bear in mind, the finest seed, and therefore the finest plants, will 
always be produced from the leading blooms.— Geo. Rudd, UndercUffe^ Bradford^ 
Yorks» 
HARDY PRIMROSES, Ere. 
jT is impossible to live and work amongst this lovely family of hardy spring 
flowers, without feeling for them an amount of interest and affection that 
reaches almost to enthusiasm. The Primrose, even in its humblest form, 
its wild state, has an attractiveness that is almost poetic; but the rich 
beauties of our cultivated kinds place the simple hues and ragged outlines of the 
wild flower deeply in the shade, for in the former we have colour in great variety, 
from clear white to intense purples and crimsons, allied to flowers of good form 
and substance of petal, and yet just as hardy and suitable for cultivation in the 
open border as the veriest of hardy plants. The production of new kinds now 
lies rather in the direction of increased size of flower and the florists’ ideal of 
form, than of the production of mere variety of hue, for it is absolutely impossible 
long to continue raising in quantity seedlings of any flower without feeling the 
divine impulse towards a higher standard, one, if possible, of absolute perfection, 
an ideal that, fortunately for us, is never reached. If I say that I have now a 
Primrose that is both in form and colouring the most perfect flower I have seen, 
because in these respects it excels all others, it would be absurd to imagine that 
therein lay a boundary beyond which it is impossible to pass *, but all florists will 
