218 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
December 19. 
purple, at first, but turns to a deep lilac before it dies, 
i have known a large collection o’f cut flowers of Pom- 
pones to live in wet sand, in a front hall, for five weeks, 
this autumn. 
Poultry. —Mr. Stevens’s great Sale-room is not a 
stone’s throw from Covcnt Garden Market, and although 
it is not lawful to say anything about killing two birds 
with one stone, wheu ono gets among poultry, I always 
call in to see and hear what is going on. They were 
arranging the lots when I called; but I could not wait 
to hear the prices this time. The light Bramah Pootra 
bens were magnificent-looking birds, and the buff Shan- 
gliaes were finer in colour, and much heavier, than last 
winter. The birds, altogether, were superior this season; 
there was not a bad lot in the room. Now that I have 
plenty of buffs at home, my next fancy would be Black 
and Brown Bantams, the prettiest birds you ever saw. 
If ever I commit myself in London, it will be by run¬ 
ning off with a pair of these, when they are all in a 
bustle. The worst of it is, that these little fellows crow 
as loud as Menschikoff himself, and there is no way of 
getting them to hold their tongues when they get to 
London. 
Fruits. —The greatest novelty we bad in the way of 
fruit, at the Horticultural Society, in Regent Street, 
was a large dish of eight or nine Citrons, every one of 
which would make a separate wet dish in a royal dessert, 
for the Christmas dinner; I have used them so, pre¬ 
served in syrup, for many years. The first disli of 
preserved Citrons I ever saw, was in the dessert of the 
Caledonian Horticultural Society, in Edinburgh, in the 
autumn of 1828. It was exhibited by one of the members, 
but no ono tasted it. The last time I saw the same kind of 
dish was in 1851, when Prince Albert was at Shrubland 
Park. It made the thirty-second dish in the dessert. 
It was not tasted then ; and I never knew a preserved 
Citron tasted “ at table” in all my experience, and yet a 
first-rate dessert cannot be complete in the absence of 
this, the royal, among wet dishes. Some dish the Citron 
whole; others prefer it in quarters. I like it best in 
quarters, the round or outside to be downwards ; • the 
sharp edges at top, and the four small ends just meeting 
in the middlo of the dish, and sufficient of the clear 
syrup to cover one-half the depth of the quarters in the 
dish. A Duchess d' Angoulcme Pear cut into four quarters, 
lengthwise, gives a good idea of the Citron dish. I have 
tasted preserved Citrons, by French, English, and 
Scotch confectioners; but I would not give one good 
preserved Fig for a pound of Citron; but the fault lay 
between the gardeners and confectioners; they never 
found out the right time to preserve this fruit. Mr. 
Fleming sent those Citrons to the Society, half-way 
between green and yellow, or, say, a mouth before they 
were quite ripe, with a note to say that they had fouud 
out, at Trentham, that this is the right degree of ripe¬ 
ness for preserving that fruit. The sharpness of the 
juice at that stage fights against the sweetness, so to 
speak, of the sugar and syrup, and, between the two, a 
very nice taste is imported to the Citron; one of the 
greatest novelties in the dessert, in my time. 
Pears. — “Time was,” began the lecturer, “wheu 
Jersey Pears were considered so far beyond the possi¬ 
bility of British gardeners to compete against, that none 
of them made the attempt; but now the rule is reversed, 
and Jersey Pears are as far inferior to our English pro 
duction of the present day, as they formerly exceeded 
us ;” or something to that effect, pointing to a hundred 
kinds of Pears, on the table, from Mr. Laugclier, of 
Jersey, the best of which were not up to a third-rate 
condition, as compared with the Pears of Queen 
Victoria. Verily, the “grant” of .f90,000 fqr the 
Frogmore Garden is yielding usurious interest. 
“Our noble Queen" was first, and deservedly, with 
splendid specimens of seven kinds of Tears, all just lit “ to 
set before a Queen.” Four kinds were on the near side 
of the long tray, and three kinds in a row on the opposite 
side, and there were three Pears of each kind. I do not 
happen to know how her Majesty prefers the arrange¬ 
ment of the dessert; but I know very well, that some 
who have sat at the royal table would tell at one 
glance if one of those twenty-one Pears were out of 
place,—even to tell best at an exhibition. The arrange¬ 
ment of fruit is ns much criticised in the higher circles 
as the arrangement of the colours in flowers. This is 
how Mr. Ingram, the director of the Royal Gardens, 
placed his Pears, to-day, beginning from the right- 
hand side:— Winter Neilis, larger than usually seen; 
Gliaumontel, with the sunny-side highly-coloured; Beurre 
Diel, extraordinarily fine-looking; and Passe Colmar, 
good, but not over particular. Now, if you know these 
four Pears, see how dexterously they lie on the dish to 
make the best of themselves, and the best group for a 
painter. See, also, how the three kinds on the opposite 
side balance the four kinds next to us; they were 
Easter Beurre, Vicar of Wingfield, and Clout Morccau. 
Everybody knows the first and third, but the Vicar is a 
newer kind—very long, with a small, long neck. The 
rest of the gardeners place their Pears “ as they come.” 
Mr. Snow, gardener to Earl de Grey, and Mr. Tilliard, 
gardener to the Right Honourable the Speaker, came in 
neck-and-neck for the second-best prize. I wondered 
how the judges would decide between these two, till 
the awards were announced. I was so long in that 
court, that I shall never get rid of the ruling passion 
about ticklish decisions of judges; they were both best, 
and had the same prize; and so they were. Mr. Snow 
had three Easter Beurre, greenish ; two Vvcdale’s St. 
Germain; six Beurre Diel, quite ripe; one Susette 
de Betray, like a large, round Apple ; six Passe Colmar, 
just fit for table; six Glout Morceau, very good size, 
but two of them only fit for table ; four Gliaumontel, in 
fine colour; six Winter Neilis, in their prime, and me¬ 
dium-sized; three Napoleon ; and four Old Crassane. 
Mr. Tilliard had three Ne Plus Means (say, No Plu 
Mure), the Rhinoceros among Pears—an ugly shape, or, 
rather, no shape—a very ugly skin, but a most delicious, 
buttery Pear, which lasts to the end of January. I have 
dished it in March, but it is one of the tumblc-dowus- 
off-a-dish. Three Winter Neilis, very good, and above 
the middle-size of the kind; three Calahasse, large, long, 
and browny; three Passe Colmar; three Beurre Did, 
very large and fine, as large, indeed, as Duchesse 
d’Angouleme; three Beurre Ilancc, the best of the latest 
keepers; three For die, quite darlings, for colour, and 
quite unusual so late in the season,—everybody ought 
to have one tree of the Trout or Forelle Pear; three 
Knight's Monarch, a famous, middle-sized, roundish 
Pear—very hardy tree, and bears well—it seems as if a 
seedling cross from Crassanne; three Glout Morceau, 
one of them the largest of the kind I ever saw. This 
Pear stood the spring-frost about here better than any 
other. 
Mr. Me Ewen, gardener to the Duke of Norfolk, at 
Arundel Castle, seut a fino collection of best Pears, and 
another of the finest dessert Apples, for which prizes 
were given; among Apples was the White Colville of the 
French, but lacking the usual marble flush from the sunny 
south. The Court Pendu Plat Apple, or “ Poor Man’s 
Profit,” as they say about Ledbury; or the Garnon, as 
they call it round Hereford, was very fine. I always 
considered this Apple as the very best and most useful 
we have in England. I often noticed, that if I let the 
cooks have it in November, no other would go down 
with them till the very end of the following May, but 
“ that yellow-pulpy sort.” This, with the Old Nonpareil 
and the Old Golden Pippin, were the only Apples which 
I was allowed to dish for the dessert all the time I was 
in Herefordshire. 
