L88 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
the ball-room, all conspire to render it a universal 
favourite. Like many other plants, this is cultivated 
by modes somewhat different in a few particulars, and, 
it may be, with success in each. As, however, I have 
been eminently sucessful for many years in producing a 
profusion of blossoms from one house, from the end 
of October until May day, I flatter myself that an 
account of my practice may bo interesting to many, 
first premising that I lay no claim to superiority in my 
practice over that of others, who, also, have been 
alike successful. 
In order to ensure abundance of well-ripened blossom- 
buds, I have for years held the opinion that the Camellia 
requires to he forced in its growth. Plants thus treated 
seldom manifest a tendency to produce a second growth ; 
the latter, it is well known, being frequently against the 
production of blossom-buds. The reasons are tolerably 
plain. Camellias in a cold greenhouse have to produce 
their youug growth under circumstances somewhat ad¬ 
verse to a free and liberal development;—under a forcing 
system, in a moist and close atmosphere, everything 
combines to cause a development—I will not say equal 
to, but indeed superior to the amount of growth-matter 
stored up in the plant, for from this principally is the 
young growth produced. Camellias, like many other 
plants, doubtless collect much of their food from the 
atmosphere, through the medium of moist vapour? and 
by sustaining a moist air, free from that dissipation 
consequent on a liberal ventilation, the volume of the 
leaves, as well as extension of growth, is much increased 
by the forcing process. Such have been my ideas for 
many years, and on this my practice has, in the main, 
been based. 
I may first observe on the process of j)otting; and 
here, as to the proper period, practical men perhaps 
differ more than in any other point. But this is no 
marvel. Behold the difference that has existed about 
the best time to plant evergreens, or even potatoes! 
This, however, I will say, that if any man pursue a 
good system of culture all through the season with his 
Camellias, I care little when he repots them ; not that I i 
think it a matter of perfect indifference, but that it may j 
be considered a kind of non-essential, and to lay much 
stress on such fiddle-faddle affairs is to decoy the atten¬ 
tion from the great l'acts of the culture. 
My practice is to repot, if necessary, shortly alter the | 
spring growth is fairly developed—say in the first week J 
of June, just before the formation of the blossom-bud. ; 
If, however, my Camellias were in bad repair at the 
root, I should, probably, choose another period. 
About the process of potting I am far more parti¬ 
cular, especially when the specimens are getting large ; 
for, as they do not require to be handled above once in 
three years by my practice, it becomes necessary so to 
constitute the compost as that it may long preserve its 
mechanical texture. Strong, or somewhat adhesive loam, 
is the chief ingredient in my compost; to this 1 add 
fibrous peat of some age, and a little leaf soil, such as 
worn-out linings ; and, in addition, some silver sand, in 
proportion to the strong character of the soil. 
But the mode of potting is a thing on which I lay 
some stress. I say not that such precautions are indis¬ 
pensable, but they are very wholesome, as time has 
proved. Everybody who has considered the potting 
question knows that it is one thing to use a powdery 
and perfectly uniform compost, and another to use 
portions of the compost in tufts or masses. If any one 
going to transfer a Camellia, say from a five-inch pot to 
a nine-inch one, were to riddle his compost, reduce 
every tuft of organised matter, and tumble this soil 
around the ball, without taking some means to prevent 
the too close cohesion of its particles, and then take a 
waterpot, and apply water liberally to “ settle the soil,” 
as it is termed, he would, at the first blow, change the 
May 26 . 
character of his compost into mud; and no plant could 
ever be expected to thrive in it. 
I keep two articles on my potting-bench in Camellia 
potting; the one a mixed compost, the other simply 
lumps of turf, from which much of the loose soil has 
been ejected. This turf is chopped out of a ridge that 
has been piled in the compost-yard a year or so ; and 
which has never received the least additional moisture 
since it was piled. It is so mellow and dry, that in the 
act of chopping into lumps as big as hen’s eggs, about 
one-half of the mere soil falls out: these lumps are rich 
in organic matter, and will preserve their texture for 
many years. The mixed compost is as first stated, and, 
as to texture, it is simply crushed to pieces by the hand. 
These materials are always used in a state which may 
be termed nearly dry. 
Now, then, for the potting, or shifting; but my readers 
must observe, that I am merely treating of re-potting 
Camellias which have been used to good treatment 
previously. Three crocks being so placed over the hole 
in the pot as to ensure three or four small outlets for 
the escape of water, a few pounded crocks are strewn 
over them, as many as will just hide the big crocks 
from the eye. On these a thin layer of the turfy mate¬ 
rial, or, if that be too thick to admit a liberal shift, 
a thin layer of fresh moss, about which our clever friend, 
Mr. Fish, was so eloquent a week or two since. The 
Camellia is now turned out of its pot, the larger crocks 
become interwoven with the roots disengaged carefully, 
and the plant placed in proper position. Henceforth, 
the process is confined to strewing the mixed compost in 
thin layers alternating with the lumps of turf, which 
are crammed in on every occasion, compressed tightly, 
but no thumping on the bench allowed. When within 
two or three inches of the rim of the pot, a regular 
casing of the finer material is placed over, at least one 
inch in thickness: this is pressed down firmly, and 
made rather concave on its surface, in order to cause 
the subsequent waterings to preponderate towards the 
old ball, where most need will exist of moisture lor a 
year to come. 
And thus having done with the potting process, I 
must take a fresh view of the subject, and ask our 
readers to fancy a house of Camellias in the early part 
of April, blossoming still in spite of the cultivator, who 
is secretly desirous that they should rest awhile from 
their labour, and prepare for another year; but is yet 
unwilling that the ladies of his establishment should 
lack a nice Camellia-blossom in their bouquets. Up 
to this period, ours have been treated in the ordinary 
way: the frost has been kept out by fire-heat occa¬ 
sionally; they have been freely ventilated, and, indeed, 
nothing worth recording has been done to them since 
last November, except liberal waterings of clear and 
weak manure-water, and the cuttings of many hundreds 
of blossoms since that period. But the time arrives 
when another process must be carried out, and under 
somewhat differing conditions. New shoots must be 
produced, if bouquets are to be furnished once more for 
another continuous half-year. 
Our house, hitherto exposed to the sun, is no,w 
shaded; atmospheric moisture hitherto stinted, or applied 
with regard to the care of the blossoms, is now applied 
morning, noon, and evening; in fact, the foliage is kept 
almost constantly damp, or in a damp air. These are 
extreme measures, 1 confess; but they produce very 
satisfactory results. The house is closed' altogether; the 
floors are kept wet, and the ladies of the establishment, 
seeing that all is “ up ” in the flower way for a few 
months, endure this affair in a most patient way, 
believing it to be for the best in the end. These cir 
eumstances, carried on thus (with a few trifling inter¬ 
missions of air now, because the sun shines so very hot, 
and neglect of moisture appliances, and again, because 
