THE COTTAGE GAKDENER. 
October 
72 
by long downy radicles, tlien produce thick tufts of leaves 
(a grateful spring food for cattle), and in April or May they 
flower, having in the meantime fonned young bulbs, which, 
as soon as tlie herbage withers, are dispersed like their 
predecessors. This summer dispersion is the cause why 
the ])lant remained so long unimown to botanists. Has any 
one been here witli a vast bread-grater, and grated brown- 
bread crumbs over that muddy hollow of four or five acres ? 
They are the casts of tlie marine worm, which here socially 
enjoys itself. The bottom of the ne.vt pool is dotted with 
an infinity of black spots, not the size of a peppercorn. 
Look at them: they are baby periwinkles, to make feasts 
for human babies that are as yet only “ on their way.” 
These are the food of the tender sheldrakes; with a daily 
supply of </tcse, I could have reared my pretty pair. 
Correspondents pester editorial gardeners to know what 
ornamental shrubs will grow within the influence of sea- 
hreezes. We are in the midst of patches of one that would 
ornament any lawn. The Salicornia fruticosa has the un¬ 
usual appendage of evergreen, succulent, hardy leaves. Are 
you gardeners enough to make it grow with you ? I have 
managed to keep it alive for a year or two. 
What a regiment of gulls !—young birds mixed with those 
in adult plumage,—with “ old Mows,” as Broadback calls 
them. “ Shute them? Might as well shute at a Grinlin 
(Greenland) hear! Them there things, and the Danish 
(hooded) crows too, know when anybody have a gun, as well 
as what w'e do! ” 
Time passes, we return to the boat, and find the channel 
of “ the pit ” and “ the harbour ” inclosed between high 
walls of shingley sand, the mass of which is found to extend 
daily. All that point, from the pilots’ house to its end, has 
been gathered by the waters within the last six-and-twenty 
years, and is still increasing. Before embarking, we will 
root up a few botanical specimens, and, for private reasons, 
I shall make free with this rusty piece of old iron hoop. 
We are again afloat; the cockle-ground over the way is in 
capital order; but, get as near as we can, there are many 
yards between irs and dry land. Broadback is overboard. 
A ride jack-back on that blue bale of flannel saves us wet 
ankles, though we will say nothing about wet feet. Wliat 
painter (Copley Fielding, perhaps) could put this scene 
within a gilt frame? Miles upon miles of trackless sands ! 
Wo wiU stick up this bit of driftTWood, as a laud-mark, in 
case,—who can tell ? Sudden fogs, or spring-tides, might 
jnizzle us to iind the boat. 
But is this the famous cockle-ground of Norfolk ? Wlicre 
are the cockles ? None are to be seen. They are here, 
nevertheless. Now for the use of our old iron hoop. We 
will give it a jn'climinary flourish, for lyck. Who wants 
shaving ? 
To business ! Half-a-mile off is a fellow stooping at work. 
Let us join him. In one hand he has a wooden cookle- 
ralce,—a short-handled thing, set with iron teeth ; with the 
other he picks up the cockles, and throws them into his 
basket. Ah I I see! The cockles lie heneath the sand, 
embedded in it, at a depth of from half-an-inch to an 
inch-and-a-half. This is a British Cahfornia, and these are 
the diggings. Neither gold, nor cookies, grow on hedges : 
both have to be worked for. We have brought our basket: 
the iron hoop shall be fairly divided. You take one half, 
and I the other. Now scrape away. Bravo ; this beats the 
rake ! That fellow loses many a nice one between his rake’s 
teeth. The old Indies from Stiffkey prefer iron hoops to 
rakes. Another handful of cockles; and here, another! 
We shall till the basket. This man only hajipens to be out 
cockleiny because he has nothing better to do. The regular 
female professionals arc not here to-day, because the car¬ 
riers’ carts (departing twice a week) have all left this morn¬ 
ing ; otherwise you W'ouhl have seen a numerous coterie, 
with succinct drapery, mahogany legs, and incessant clack; 
still they have a discipline, and a fair-is-Jmr sort of feeling 
among themselves. They think this sport, in all possible 
weather, no hardship; nor grumble at carrying a bushel of 
cookies two or three miles. Shut them in their cottages, 
and keep them incessantly to the loom, or the needle, and 
they would soon j^ine and die, if they did not go mad. 
There; we have tilled the basket, a good peck-and-a-half, 
and have earned a shilling, at eight-pence the peck. The 
good folks here make three ‘‘ culls” of their gathering, and 
sell the best at three-pence a quarter. Ours are a beautiful 
sample, clean, not gritty, large, well-flavoured. A man from 
the next parish discovered this particular “ digging ” about 
three weeks ago, and made a fine harvest, till the Stiffkey 
folks found out his secret. But the tide is flowing, and will 
carry us up-channel. Time to be ofi’: it is getting dusk, 
and coming on “ roky.” Those are not ships, as seen through 
the misty air, but ghosts of them. Darker and darker, and 
no moon. The keel of the boat scra])es against the oyster 
“ lays,” but does not stick, the tide bears us upwards and 
onwards so fast. There shines the light of a forge, to serve 
as a beacon. I wonder how Broadback can find the way, 
amidst those intricate creeks and mud-banks. “ And I,” 
says Broadback, “ wonder people are not afraid to travel by 
night through those lonesome roads, and lanes, and woods.” 
And here we are at last at Blakeney; the day’s excursion is 
ended. I feel a vacancy about the region of the stomach 
that will not he easily filled up. Afterwards, we will amuse 
ourselves by roasting cockles for dessert. 
South of the Wash, the sandy dunes of Norfolk, called 
“ Meals ” and “ Marram Banks,” are the only places on the 
east coast of England where there is any chance of catching 
the sheldrake in the act of nesting; and that chance is 
yearly becoming less and less, solely from the intrusive 
cm-iosity of man. For in front remains the sea, and behind, 
ni present, the salt-marshes; while the rabbits are as nume¬ 
rous as ever, to scoop out the required excavations. The 
sheldrake is no excavator, and yet it will have a cavern for 
its nursery. How it arranges matters with the rabbit, of 
Avhose house it takes jiossession, is not so easy to guess as 
in the case of the jmtfins, who are equally imjiertinent in 
other wan-ens. They have a bill that would furnish a shaiqi 
answer to any rabbit that undertook to remonstrate too 
obstinately at the mouth of his hole. The w'ant of this 
underground retreat is one reason why sheldrakes so rarely 
breed in confinement. They have been successfully temjited 
by artificial burrows near the water’s edge; and a hollow 
tree let into the bank, forming a sort of blind tunnel, or 
choked-uj5 drain, has proved irresistible. The darkness 
seems to be one of the conditions which pleases them ; for 
a tame pair, not being able to find any subteiranean hiding- 
place for their eggs, dejiosited them under the thickest 
obscurity of some clipped yews. By attending to these 
natural requirements ; by now and then giving the old birds 
a treat of small cockles, mussels, and periwinkles; and by 
letting their young have a daily ration of fresh sea-fish 
chopped fine; it may ho expected that this very striking 
bird mil be reared more frequently than it now is, in the 
tiny lakes which give so pleasing a chann to our lawns and 
our shrubberies. D. 
TO CORRESPONDEWTS, 
Vines {Omega). —We are not aware of any work which treats specially 
of Vines in pots. Before answering your questions safely, it will be 
necessary to know the age of your plants, the diameter of the shoots 
in their thickest part, and the size of the pot they are in. This obtained, 
we will give a satisfactory answer. 
Apricot and Quince {H. il/., Herts). —Your Breda Apricot is not 
an uncommon case. We had one as large as an apple-tree, wliich stood for 
fifteen years without producing a crop—indeed, it seldom set any ; but 
it was too far north (Cheshire). Hertfordshire should produce one. 
Your “not very free exposure” means partial shade, and this will not 
do. We would remove it to where it gets every hour’s sunshine, and 
plant it on the ground level, with only a foot of soil beneath it. and that 
plain loam; no manure. It must not grow strong; and succulent wood 
should 1)6 pinched in from ,Tune and July. You may prune away all the 
coarse young wood on removal. The only one we ever saw cultivated with 
high success as a tree, was, like yours, at Hampton Court, at the Royal 
gardens. Thirty-five years since, we have seen this tree laden with fine 
fruit, and once partook of a tart from the produce; this was excellent. 
Your Quince that is mildewed, and has ceased to bear, must have a thin¬ 
ning, and receive the sul|)hur mixture when at rest; also top-dress with 
old vegetable matter. The Quince is very liable to this mildew. Prune 
your nuts heavily, and root-prune them. 
Erratum. —Page 28, line 35, for monstrous read monotonous. 
Seven Hardy Climbers eok Greenhouse, and contrasting in 
Colour {N. S. K.), — Pussijiora racemosa^ purplish ; Bignonia capensiSy 
yellow ; Passifiorn cwmileUy blue ; Kennedya Marryatt^., scarlet; A/an- 
det'illa suaueolens, white ; Tac.sonia pinnatistipuUiy rose ; Bignonia 
chcrere. reddish-dull-orangc. These will do planted outside of the 
house, but the roots and stems (as much as is outside) must be protected, 
the former with Utter, the latter with square boxes set against the front 
wall, filled with sawdust, and capped from wet. They will succeed also 
in pots or boxes inside the house, but they will grow more rampant in 
the border. 
Tw'o Plants eor the Back. Wall or a Greenhouse {Ibid). —You 
have not said for what purpose. If merely to keep green, try 
