May 27. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
131 
which the growth has occupied a considerable part of 
the autumn and winter. Now, though somewhat mo¬ 
dified by circumstances, lettuces follow the same law; 
a rapid growth produces greater crispness than a slow 
protracted growth. Hence the superiority of foreign 
specimens, which, when urged on by the combined 
influence of unclouded sunshine and sufficient moisture, 
develope a growth which we can only combat in Eng¬ 
land by closer attention to the varieties grown. That 
much has been done to effect this we admit; but that 
much more may be yet accomplished, we are equally 
sanguine. There are some imperfections in this vege¬ 
table we yet hope to see overcome. Not the least is that 
tendency many kinds have to run to seed, even in spite 
of the seedsman’s warrant to the contrary; and if we 
could get a good hardy Brown Coss, with its leaves 
hooded like some of the White Coss, so as to dispense 
with any tying, we should have a most desirable acqui¬ 
sition ; and we do not doubt but both points may be 
gained in time, without making those sacrifices in 
another way which the kinds now assuming these quali¬ 
fications certainly do. 
The culture which we here intimate is intended only 
for summer lettuce; and as we have said a rapid growth 
ensures delicacy of texture (rather than tenderness of 
habit), we urge on our readers to sow their summer 
crops on the best ground they have at disposal; and 
another thing is to sow it where the lettuces have to 
remain, as everything in the shape of a check has like¬ 
wise a tendency to cause it to run, on the same principle 
that a similar check has the effect of throwing pines 
into fruit. We say, avoid such changes. Another point 
is to sow on rich ground, and if in the south of Eng¬ 
land, not too dry; where the garden consists of that 
dry, burning kind of soil, which three or four days of 
sunshine scorch up at any time, sow under the shade of 
a wall, not trees,—the evil effects of the latter are more 
than the good they render. We therefore say, sow in 
some moist, rich situation, in rows about fifteen inches 
apart, and be sure to thin them out in time, and the 
chances are in favour of your obtaining good useful 
lettuces, even when sowing and transplanting in the 
ordinary way may have failed. 
For the reasons detailed above, rich ground is indis¬ 
pensable, both as a preventive to the plants running to 
seed, as also to promote their quick and luxuriant growth, 
whereby crispness and good flavour are obtained; and 
if it be naturally dry, a good watering, and slight cover¬ 
ing with litter between the rows, will be of service. 
Great attention must be paid to have the best varieties; 
for however good the ground, and skilful the treatment, 
the result will not be satisfactory if the breed be bad. 
The cabbage kinds are less likely to run than the coss, 
but they are not in such general esteem for salad 
purposes; the best being the White Cuss, of which there 
are many varieties, or we should havo said names, as 
their only difference often lies in the title by which they 
are known. Some, however, arc more hooded in the leaf 
than others, while some have black seeds, and others 
white; the former is said to be the best. The Brown 
Coss is also good when true, and the Bath, which forms 
a connecting link between this and the Green Coss 
varieties, is also good at times. It is better not to depend 
entirely on one kind, unless by previous experience you 
have proof of its utility. The cabbage kinds, as we have 
said, are less likely than any others, and the Drumhead 
is generally better than the Malta; but they are all 
liable to fluctuations. One thing we impress on the 
amateur, to thin his crop in time, and if the weather be 
at all favourable he may plant a few out as well. In 
many instances they do equally well as those left where 
sown, but where the ground is dry, and a hot season 
follows, sowing where they arc to remain seems the only 
plan to secure a crop with anything like certainty. 
Sundries. —Sow more Brocoli of the Cape, Walcheren, 
and Grainger's White, and examine those previously 
sown, to see that nothing molests them. Sow a few 
Onions, to draw young when such are wanted for salad- 
ing, &c. Another crop of French Beans may also be 
planted, and the same may be said of Broad Beans and 
Scarlet Runners, and sticks put to the forwardest of the 
latter. Sow Peas also, and Spinach, small salading, and 
it may be a few more Turnips. It is, however, too late 
now to sow Radishes, except on cool ground, or on a 
north border, but even then they are apt to get hot and 
sticky in warm weather. Plant out Capsicums against 
a south wall which cannot be accommodated with glass 
anywhere, and as soon as the Celery in the seed-bed has 
got two or three rough leaves, and is otherwise firm and 
stiff, let a quantity be pricked out on some well-prepared 
bed. The plants will improve much quicker than if left 
until drawn in the seed-bed. Melons and Cucumbers 
attend to as heretofore. It is better to put in a few 
seeds of the former at various intervals, in order to 
furnish any frames that become vacant. We have sown 
as late as the beginning of July, and ripened fruit of 
them; stop and otherwise attend to those in bear¬ 
ing, and if very bright sunshine occur, and the plants be 
so close to the glass as to touch, and the quantity of at¬ 
mospheric air inside the frame or pit be very limited, a 
slight shading may be necessary, and, what is equally 
important, particular care taken that air be admitted in 
due time, and in sufficient quantities; a little neglect 
that way, in such a close confined place, overheats it, 
which, exciting the plants too much, leaves them more 
than ever exposed to those misfortunes so fatal to the 
melon. Water must be more liberally administered, 
and every other mode adopted calculated to ensure that 
robust health (not gross luxuriance) which in the melon, 
as well as other things, is the only security of their well 
doing. _ J. Robson. 
A LESSON FOR THE SICK. 
By the Authoress of “ My Flowers,” Ac. 
I have already, I believe, observed upon the patient and 
quiet way in which the poor generally endure the trials of 
poverty and sickness that very often come upon them; but 
another instance struck me so forcibly, a few weeks ago, 
that I cannot forbear touching upon the subject again, 
because it is one which will benefit every class, and reconcile 
those to their trials who possess larger shares of this world’s 
good, and yet are sometimes tempted to murmur when they 
cannot obtain every thing that they fancy would do them 
good. 
We were told that a poor man was ill, who lived at a short 
distance from us, and we went to see him. His cottage 
stood in a beautiful situation, just at the outskirt of an ex¬ 
tensive larch plantation, on rather high ground, overlooking 
a beautiful valley, with a fine sweep of green hills on the 
opposite side, and a rich scene of woodland loveliness 
wherever the eye rested. It was the Sabbath evening, too, 
and all but the joyous songs of the birds was calm and 
still. An air of comfortlessness always surrounds that [ 
cottage; there is a broken wicket, a deep, black, muddy j 
ditch close to the house—enough in itself to cause a fever— ' 
an untidy garden, and a neglected, wretched look about the . 
place, which says a great deal about the wife who dwells 
within. In fact it can scarcely say too much. We opened 
the door, and found poor M -and his family sitting 
together, but such a picture of domestic bliss will scarcely 
be imagined by many of my readers. It was very cold, with 
the cutting easterly wind whistling through the trees, but 
there was no fire on the hearth. M -was sitting in a 
straight-backed, rickety chair, close to the fire-place, where 
the embers were gone out, after the kettle had hoiled for 
tea, and a little cracked teapot was placed among them to 
lie kept warm. The house was very dirty and untidy ; the 
table was still covered with the tea-things, and a piece of a 
loaf, and a small bit of lard in a plate, stood upon it. The 
wife sat beside this tea-table opposite her husband, a dirty 
