October 9. 
THE COTTAGE GABDENEK. 
the fate of a tulip bulb of peerless price. In Holland, 
some 100, or it may bo 150 years ago, there was a 
disease or epidemic broke out in the heads of some of 
our Dutch neighbours, and it rose to such a height that 
it became a species of madness, worse than the South 
Sea Scheme, or going to see the Great Exhibition in the 
Crystal Palace. This madness justly was named the 
Tulipomania, or tulip-madness, and to such a height did 
it attain, that as much as .£1200, with a pair of splendid 
horses, their harness, and a handsome carriage, were 
given for a single tulip-root!! Our favourite plants, 
the Orchids, will fetch sometimes enormous prices in 
the estimation of some people, but nothing compared to 
this ; Orchid-madness has not come yet to such a pitch, 
nor perhaps ever will. But this anecdote—we have not 
forgotten it. At the time when the fever was raging, a 
celebrated grower had two roots, and in the pride of 
liis heart was showing them, in their brown skins, 
at the time they were at rest, to an intimate friend, also 
a great enthusiast. We may imagine how they turned 
them over, and examined them closely, and admired the 
rarities. It happened that some sudden emergency 
called the Dutch merchant out into his counting-house ; 
such was the importance of the business that lie forgot 
to lock up Iris precious roots. A countryman, having 
transacted business, was ordered into the house to take 
refreshment; bread and cheese and beer were set before 
him, which he partook of with that vigour and appetite 
a countryman always brings to town with him. Towards 
the end of his feast lie espied the two tulip roots. 
“Ah,” says he, “what two nice onions; they would 
relish this last bit of cheese nicely. I will try one, how¬ 
ever.” Suiting the action to the word, he reached the 
almost priceless root, but was sadly disappointed as ho 
chewed the dear morsel. “ A bad sort,” says he, “ not a 
bit of flavour of an onion about it. I wonder whether 
that other brown chap is any better?” Just as he was 
reaching the other, the merchant, recollecting having 
left the roots, rushed into the house, and saw, alas! one 
of his invaluable roots in the hand of this countryman, 
and the brown skin on his plate showed what had come 
of the other. We leave the rest to be imagined; the 
rage and grief of the merchant, and the innocent con¬ 
sternation and wonder of the countryman. This story, 
which we read in an old work on gardening more than 
a quarter of a century ago, applies to the case we 
mentioned, that a common workman, carpenter or brick¬ 
layer, might innocently enough do a great mischief 
without knowing it, and, therefore, it is advisable always 
to get all their work finished, if possible, before putting 
| anything into the ground. For that reason we wrote 
i last upon the shelter necessary, both as a protection 
j from severe weather, and shelter from the bleaching 
; bright rays of the sun, and have now, in order to com- 
! plete our essay, to describe the planting process. 
The best season is about' the beginning of the second 
J week in November, as near the 10th of that month as 
the weather and the state of the ground will permit, 
j This rule applies to all the country north of London; 
! perhaps, in the milder climate of the southern counties 
| a week later would be better. Too early planting is 
! injurious, inasmuch as that the leaves will be pushing 
through before the severe weather has passed away, and 
j would then be in danger, however well protected, of 
! being frost-nipped, and, consequently, injured not only 
for that year, but also for years to come. The bulbs 
i could not grow so large when the leaves are crippled as 
when they are continued in health till tire natural decay 
takes place at the due season. For these reasons, and 
others that might be mentioned, the 10th of November 
is the right time to plant blooming bulbs of the tulip. 
Offsets are another affair; they may be planted a little 
sooner or later, as may be convenient. 
The method of planting is governed by the height of 
25 
the flower-stems, for as some varieties grow taller than 
others, the tallest shoidd be in the centre of the bed. 
This consideration renders it necessary to plant them in 
rows length-ways of the bed, and not across it. This 
being determined upon, let the soil of the bed be 
levelled and made tolerably smooth; then, with a tri¬ 
angular hoe, draw a drill the length of the bed, as 
near two inches deep as possible. To accomplish this 
quite straight, it will be necessary to have a lino 
stretched very tight the whole length of the bed, at such 
a distance from the centre as will allow the point of the 
hoe, in drawing the drill, to be exactly in the centre. 
As soon as the drill is drawn, bring out all the tall 
growers, and plant them, five inches apart, at the 
bottom, giving each a gentle pressure. When the 
row is finished, thrust in at each end a strong stick, 
this is to mark where the row of bulbs is when 
covered up. Of very choice and expensive varieties, some 
florists recommend covering the bulbs with fine white 
sand, but if the soil is, as was mentioned on a former 
occasion, mixed with sand, we think the white sand may 
be dispensed with; however, we leave that point at the 
option of the grower. The next thing to do, is to cover 
them up—this is best done with a short-toothed rake. 
After that let the soil on each side of the planted row be 
stirred up with a three-pronged fork. Then set the line 
at the right distance from the centre (we mentioned 
that the beds should be four feet wide, which would 
allow nine inches between each of the five rows, and six 
inches next the edging), the line then must be set at 
such a distance from the centre, that the next row of 
bulbs will be exactly nine inches apart from the centre 
one. Draw the drill the same depth as the first, and 
plant the next tallest flowers in it. Then mark the row 
with a stick at each end, and so proceed till the whole 
is finished, the lowest growers will then be next the 
paths all round the bed. One important point we had 
nearly forgotten, though we do not think the planter 
would, and that is, each variety must be numbered, 
and the numbers put in so securely, that they cannot 
be easily displaced. All these points having been care¬ 
fully attended to, the rest must be left to nature, ex¬ 
cepting due attention to protection, which has been 
fully described previously. T. Appleby. 
THE KITCHEN-GARDEN. 
Capsicums may be gathered as they ripen, and the 
green ones wanted for pickling might also be picked oft' 
now, as little more progress in the way of ripening can 
be expected after the middle of this month; even where 
they are under glass, the principal advance is in the 
growth of the plant, not the maturing of its fruit, and 
the frame, or pit, it is growing in may be wanted for 
other purposes. It is as well, after providing for the 
present and future wants of the family in the way of 
green ones for pickling, ripe ones for pepper, &c., to cut 
the plants off close to the ground, trim off some of the 
points where no fruit is on, and hang them up in some 
dry, light place, the fruit will partially ripen (yet not so 
much so as Tomatoes when placed under similar circum¬ 
stances) ; those planted under south walls or close 
frames may remain in the ground some time yet, if they 
are protected at nights, and young, fresh Capsicums 
wanted; but if previous directions have been followed, 
the principal crop will have ripened and been secured 
some time ago. 
Tomatoes. —This tender fruit will require protection 
now, in the shape of mats or other covering, at night, 
but if the weather sets in dull and moist, and with the 
appearance of remaining so, it would be as well to cut 
most of the fruit by the middle of the month; what is 
ripe may be at once used, and the full-sized green fruit 
hung up singly in some warm place; a kitchen is very 
