282 
January 9. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
purely artificial, except amongst such plants as are 
aquatics, or nearly so ; but many plants of an herbaceous 
character, or, perhaps, annuals, have the power to alter 
their character very much, and are often seen to live 
and even flourish under widely different circumstances; 
but it is almost needless to say the transition from the 
one to the other ought to he gradual, otherwise evil 
consequences will arise; and, as we all know an ordinary 
dung-bed, or bed made of other fermenting substance, 
emits a moist, vapourous fluid, mixed with gases,—the 
; names of which are not here necessary to mention, hut, 
when in the combined form that is congenial to vegetation, 
are generally known among gardeners by the term “nice 
sweet heat.” It is, therefore, in such an atmosphere as 
this that the Cucumber will live almost with its roots in 
! sterile sand ; but, be it remembered, that although it is 
! in a highly artificial state in January, it is not so in May; 
for in the latter month the greater amount of sunshine, 
i and the necessity for the admission of greater quantities 
I of fresh air, render it impossible for the plant to live 
j on “ air ” alone, as it may have been, in a great measure, 
doing when in the close “ pent up ” condition it was in 
j during the dull days of winter or early spring. 
I have entered into the above explanation, with a view 
to show that it is no proof of the soil in which winter 
Cucumbers grow in luxuriantly being the best for 
summer or general purposes. On the contrary, practice 
proves it not to be so; for I do not remember to have 
ever seen a good and lasting crop of fruit on compost 
in which charcoal or any similar substance was used to 
excess; neither have I ever seen a really good and long 
bearing crop produced on entire peat, for this material 
docs not seem to have been intended by nature to main¬ 
tain the gross and succulent herbage which a Cucumber 
presents for any great length of time, its nutritive 
powers being more speedily exhausted than other com- 
; pounds, and death or disease overtaking the plant sooner 
than if it had been living in a more congenial soil. A 
similar remark holds good towards all other mixtures of 
J an extreme kind, for they, like most “ extremes,” owe 
j their success to other causes than the one of soil; i.e., 
when they are grown in a close frame; for some enthusi¬ 
astic growers, in their rage for novelty, will grow them in 
| mortar-rubbish almost alone, feeding them with liquid- 
j manure; but it is needless to say that it is to the liquid 
: food they owe their success, not to the hard, dry lumps 
| of mortar-rubbish through which their roots are seen to 
i ramify. 
I confess having some little hesitation, at all times, in 
j describing a soil or compost, although I have no doubt 
but the majority of readers might understand it. Now, 
the Cucumber delights in one of those most variable 
kinds of soil, which pass, in common “ parlance,” as “ a 
light rich one.” This, it is true, is but a poor description; 
and to extend it further, I may say, that a good maiden | 
loam that had lain some months, and been frequently 
turned in fine weather, and the last few days been ; 
placed in some outhouse, or other place where poultry i 
have access to it, will be found one of the most useful 
ingredients; observe, by the loam, I do not mean one 
of those stiff, adhesive kinds which cake hard in dry 
weather, but one which readily separates, and which 
has been obtained from ground known to be fertile. I 
mention the placing of it before poultry, in order that 
they may pick out any grab, wireworm, or other offensive 
object, which they do with great assiduity, and their 
services that way need not be confined to compost alone 
intended for Cucumber growing; however, when their 
services cannot be had, I would advise the little that is 
wanted for the first hill of Cucumbers to be carefully 
looked over, and if placed out-of-doors on some frosty 
nights, the freezing will have a good effect in thinning 
those depredators, for it is easy to place it so that every 
particle of it be frozen through. * 
In addition to this sort of soil, which ought to consist 
of quite three-fourths of the mass, a little leafy mould or 
other decayed substances may be added; dung will do, 
provided it be well decayed; to this I usually add some 
burnt material from an old rubbish heap where various 
things have been consumed. Sand may be added, if 
thought necessary, but I never find it so. But I must 
observe here, that it would be as well to have the whole 
compounded ere it be placed before chicken or otherwise 
prepared ; at the same time, taking care that it is never 
used in a wet state, nor yet handled in any way while in 
that condition, for the very lightest of ground is some¬ 
times injured by the undue compressing it receives when 
meddled with when wet. 
Supposing the hotbed to exhibit no particular signs of 
over heating, and the warmth it has feels of that nice 
agreeable kind called a “ sweet heat,” the compost may 
be put in to the depth of three inches all over the bed, 
and underneath each light hills or mounds may be j 
made so that from the top of each to the dung a depth 
of twelve inches of soil may be had; this is ample for \ 
Cucumbers. Melons may be no worse with a little j 
more; these hills, with the soil inside, &c., must be all 
well warmed by the heating material before the plants are 
put in, which is, however, done in a day or less, perhaps; 
the planting out then may be performed, and due care 
taken afterwards that the plants derive no injury from 
the pests noticed above, as well as many others which 
are tempted to feast on their young and tender foliage. 
Wood-lice are their worst enemy, and to catch them a 
cooked Potato wrapped round with moss is a very good 
trap, examining it and killing them frequently; a 
marrow bone is another useful attractor, and, as the 
most danger from these gentry is mostly at first, the 
amateur must not spare any pains to secure his plants. 
Their after treatment being of another kind, will be 
adverted to hereafter. J. Robson. 
THE LAST OF HIS LINE. 
By the Authoress of “ My Flowers." 
So many of my sketches have been taken from life among * 
the lowly, that it may, perhaps, be thought the upper j 
classes furnish no proofs of human depravity, nor that i 
education, and the rules of refined society, make men better j 
than they were born. Alas ! this would be a great and fatal 
mistake. Education and society plane down the rough¬ 
nesses of men; but they neither change the heart, nor 
preserve it from one taint of evil. Sin is no respecter of 
persons, though with some it may cross the stage with the 
flourish of trumpets. Unless the Spirit of God has cast 
out the Legion that dwells within us, Satan cares not 
for the robes or rags that clothe his victims; they are all 
his own. 
Sir Charles B-was a baronet descended from the \ 
first creation of that title; he was, consequently, a man : 
of birth and blood. He had a fine property, an agreeable 
person, gentlemanly manners, and most things that con¬ 
stitute worldly felicity. His early history was singular. 
I Being the younger son, he was brought up to the medical 
profession, and became a navy surgeon. He was with the 
fleet in the Mediterranean during its operations in the last 
war; studied the complaints of the eye, in Egypt particularly, 
and was almost unrivalled, in after days, in that branch of 
the science. He loved, and felt a deep interest in his pro¬ 
fession; was very kind-hearted, and, had he continued in 
practice, must have “made a noise” among his brethren. 
But he was recalled to take possession of title and estate, 
in consequence of the death of his elder brother, who was 
shot by a friend’s hand, in a shooting party, whether 
accidentally, or otherwise, was never clearly made out. Sir 
Charles was warmly attached to this brother, and the event 
gave him extreme pain. It hung over him like a cloud for 
the rest of his life ; there was something mysterious, as well 
as horrible, in it; and, perhaps, it was the first deep shadow 
