234 
THE FLOEIST AND POMOLOGIST. 
[ October, 
orange. The flowers nearly rival in size those of the African Marigolds, and they 
appear to me to be quite as worthy of being cultivated for exhibition purposes 
as the striped flowers. Those who grow them will be vastly pleased with them, 
and tend them with all the care and attention they so richly merit. 
The powerful perfume exhaled by the foliage and flowers of the Marigold is 
often urged as an objection against it. Perhaps there is something of sentiment 
in the objection. It is only when they are handled that the perfume becomes 
offensive, though, perhaps, but few would be willing to apply such a strong term 
to the peculiar scent possessed by the Marigold.—R. Dean, Ealing, 
THE AURICULA. 
Chapter VI.— Itb Enemies and Diseases—Work for the Month. 
ERE I compelled to be a florist of one flower, I would assuredly choose, 
out of all the beauteous circle that connects April with October in an 
unbroken floral chain, my heroine of these papers—the Auricula. Not 
merely because that, in respect of blooming, this plant is the florist’s 
first and early love, nor that its own beauties are so winsome, or its culture so 
complex as to absorb all a man’s floral love and time; but because that the 
Auricula has an intransient charm about it—the plant itself is always beautiful 
—as an evergreen it never leaves us. The Auricula is never over. 
We shall soon, in the lifeless sunshine of some day in dull November, consign 
our Tulip-bulbs to the earth, and they will seem dead and gone. Our dry, 
shrunk tubers of Ranunculus that died down in July, and will not be buried till 
March, seem as far from life as so many crusts and crumbs of mummy, and are 
dismal to look upon. Our Pinks have subsided into pipings with a rough time 
coming; and Carnations, with their sisters, the Picotees, will shortly be in little 
room as pairs of layers potted-up for winter. The ‘‘ queenly ” Rose herself will 
soon show nothing but her graceless skeleton of wood, and her ill-tempered thorns, 
and be the poorest and ugliest sight of all—a fit companion for the outlawed 
Bramble. But a collection of Auriculas is a pleasant sight of green and white 
rosettes the winter through. Indeed, the plants are ever changing their aspect as 
the seasons change ; and may be said, in this property of perennial freshness, to 
be “possessed of considerable personal attractions.” 
They are now at the height of their autumn growth, and if any appear dull 
and inactive, they are out of health, and should be examined. The only 
way to do this thoroughly will be to turn the plant out of pot and soil. If any¬ 
thing is found amiss with the stem, it must be rectified with the knife, 
decayed roots removed, and the plant repotted. The very disturbance may 
set a lazy plant agoing, and of course, perhaps be the means of saving a sick 
one. 
Do not wet them as soon as thus repotted. Have the compost just nicely 
damp, and let them send a thirsty root for what they want. If an Auricula is 
potted in a sodden soil, it will live mechanically by the redundant moisture, 
