THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
March 20. 
470 
to believe it good, there being something capricious in 
Celery in this respect. 
Parsnips ought to be. sown on a piece of deep, loamy 
soil, that has been tilled pretty deep; drills about fifteen 
inches apart, drawn with the hoe, and the seed dropped 
thinly in will do; hut as this crop is one that is expected 
i to remain in the ground for twelve months, it ought to 
i he sown in the open quarter; and where a due regard is 
being paid to the proper rotation of crops, neighbours 
j to it might be Red Beet and Carrots, hut the middle of 
' April is soon enough for them, except for the first crop 
of Carrots, which might be sown on a south border. 
Onions were mentioned in a former article, hut as 
they may not be sown yet, I here repeat that no time 
must be lost. Leeks may also he sown to what extent 
they may be wanted, they being more hardy than 
Onions, and for some purposes more useful; they are, 
however, best transplanted out, but if that be incon¬ 
venient, let them be sown in drills, a foot or fifteen 
inches apart, and properly thinned in time. 
Cauliflower and Lettuce may also he sown in beds 
similar to the Brussels Sprouts, &c. There arc no distinct 
varieties of Cauliflower worth naming, only now and 
then seedsmen attach their name to what they profess 
to be improvements. Lettuce, however, possess a great 
number of kinds, and the best White and Brown Cos, 
with some of the Drumhead, and Malta Cabbage kinds, 
may he at once sown, following the sowing with others, 
every three weeks, or even less when the growing season 
arrives. 
Brocoli of some of the late kinds may also he sown, 
especially of the very late sorts, as the Russian, Miller s 
Dwarf, and Wilcove; these.bcing all low-growing kinds 
are not likely to suffer by the winter any more than if 
they were sown later, which is not the case with the 
larger sorts as Southampton, Sprouting, and others. 
A bed adjoining those of Brussels Sprouts, &c., will do 
for them. 
Parsley may now he sown to any required extent, 
and if it he sown in a continuous line as a edging, he 
sure and thin it at the proper time. If sown as a crop, 
let it be in rows eighteen inches apart, and thin the 
plants to about nine inches from each other. Like 
Celery, this seed lies a long time in the ground beforo it 
germinates, but it is tolerably hardy. 
Peas and Beans, to succeed the former crops, may also 
he sown now, as the British Queen, Champion, and 
others. Teas, also, that were sown in pots to plant out, 
may be done so now, where the autumn-sown ones 
do not succeed; and even where both plans are tried at 
the same time, the one often succeeds as well as the 
other; hut when the autumn crop will stand there is a 
great saving of trouble. 
Besides ttie above there are many little thiugs, all of 
which require attention now or very shortly. A slight 
hotbed for French Beans and Potatoes, both of which 
we suppose to he preparing to plant out, by being started 
in some warm place. Tomato seed must also he sown 
! in heat, and at the proper time potted off, while Melon 
! and Cucumber seeds and plants must have all the requi¬ 
site attention ; hut those requiring more than a passing 
I notice must ho deferred until next week. J. Robson. 
THE LAST OF HIS LINE. 
(Concluded from page 430.1 
The history of Sir Charles B- is not concluded. I 
have not yet closed his melancholy memoir. One bright 
j spot yet remains to be recorded, amid the gloom of his 
! declining days, to shew yet again how pitying the Lord is ; 
| how “ His compassions fail not, but are new every morning,” 
even to those who know Him not, and “refuse to hear the 
voice of the charmer, charm he never so wisely.” The Lord 
lias, indeed, declared, “ all day long I have stretched out my 
hand to a disobedient and gainsaying people.” Alas ! if it 
was so then, under a dark and severe dispensation, how 
much more so is it now, when the full blaze of light and 
love shines round us, and shews us the blackness of man’s 
rebellion against His reconciled Father and merciful and 
gracious God. 
Sir Charles B-might be called a childless man when 
bis daughter fled from her husband’s house and heart. The 
stream of parental affection dried up, and left a seared 
channel in his breast, poor man, which could not bo filled 
with “ living water,” because he knew not Him who alone 
can give it. He seemed to stand alone in the world, 
desolate and forsaken. What was liis future path to be, 
when he rose up from the bed of sickness? "Who was to 
be the prop and comfort of his declining age, in the dark 
valley through which he groped his way ? "What was to 
become of him ? 
Sir Charles always met with what he considered strange 
and romantic adventures. Seeing nothing of the Hand that 
orders all things, the striking manifestations of God’s 
providence were to him romantic an«l incomprehensible; 
more like the events described in a novel, than such as took 
place in the common course of things. 
When his partially-restored health permitted him to 
Havel about again, he came to England, and was for some 
time in London. Nothing can he more dreary than a 
residence in London, to the lonely and friendless; and poor 
Sir Charles must have moved among the busy masses of 
that thronging city in total solitude. One day lie had been 
standing for some moments at the window of a print-shop, 
when on turning to pass on, a well-dressed female laid her 
hand upon his arm, and looked earnestly at him, exclaiming, 
“Is your name B-?” The Lady was youthful and 
handsome, and a total stranger to Sir Charles. He en¬ 
deavoured to release himself from her grasp, and proceed, 
but ho could not shake her off. She persisted in saying, “I 
am sure your name is B-,” and with so much serious 
energy, that he stopped, and answered her ; “ My name is 
B--, hut I am wholly unacquainted with your face.” “ I 
am your niece,” she exclaimed in tones of affecting joy. “ I 
am the daughter of your sister Lucy, and you are my own, 
very uncle, Sir Charles B-. You are the image of my 
mother.” 
Sir Charles’ shattered health caused this meeting to affect 
him deeply. He questioned, and cross-questioned the lady, 
until he proved her identity. She was, without a doubt, his 
beloved sister’s child, and her glance and her features were 
those of his own lost Matilda—enough so to confirm her 
statement, and give her a place in his poor bereaved heart. 
The meeting of uncle and niece was a providential event 
to both ; a wonderful instance of the mercy and watchful care 
of the Shepherd of Israel, " who neither slumberetb or 
sleepeth.” 
Sir Charles’ sister married, and died, leaving two daughters. 
He knew that he had nieces somewhere, hut having entirely 
lost sight of all his family, contenting himself with loving and 
talking perpetually about them, with the greatest apparent 
affection, what had become of them, or whether they were still 
alive, he knew not. The two daughters were left in distressed 
circumstances by the death of their parents. The eldest 
married some one in humble life, and kept a little school; 
the younger sister lived with her, and assisted her. She 
was herself greatly straitened at this particular time, and it 
was the good and gracious will of an ever-watchful God, that 
one who wanted means, and another who wanted consolation, 
should meet for mutual benefit in this unexpected way. 
The delight of Sir Charles was almost overwhelming, 
lie had found a second daughter, and one whom he could 
trust and take comfort in, as well as love ; and she fulfilled 
her duty strictly. Miss Grey was lively, enthusiastic, 
animated, and warm hearted. She nursed and attended 
her uncle with unwearied devotion, and in return, he made 
over to her all lie possessed in the world, which would be 
riches to a penniless orphan. They travelled about together, 
and she watched him as slio would an infant, anticipating 
every wish, aud living, it might he said, only for him. IVhat 
a striking interposition of the Lord's Hand was this! 
