405 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER AND COUNTRY GENTLEMAN, March 29, 1859. 
Flower Garden Plan (An Old Subscriber).—The Royal Dwarf ox the 
Tom Thumb Gehtniums will never do in that centre bed; and those who 
advised the Anagallises for that garden were like Job’s comforters. Turn 
over a new leaf, and lead the fashion this time. Put variegated Geraniums 
in the centre bed, with a good band of blue Lobelia speciosa round them. 
'I he two corner beds farthest from the window to be with either the Royal 
Dwarf ox Tom Th umb ; and the opposite corner beds next the window with 
Aurea Jloribunda Calceolaria. The circles all round each with a distinct 
kind of Verbena—your own clitice kinds. Any colours will do with that 
circle and those corners. But any other plants, with the same colours, 
will do in the centre and corners; only the size of our plants suits that of 
your beds; and size must always carry the same weight as colour, in small 
beds. In large beds the size of the jdants is not of such importance, pro¬ 
vided you do not lill match or corresponding beds with plants that diltor 
much in height, or style of grow th, and blooming—this is W'hat wc call 
heights and colours to correspond. Your figure is very good, and it would 
be a thousand pities not to take some pains to have it tastefully planted. 
\Vhat a charming plan for spring flowers, so near the window’s ! 
Variegated Plants for Greenhouses {An Old Subscriber).— If you 
had waited a little more patiently, you would have seen a list of variegated 
plants for the greenhouse. Wc fear you will be disappointed with the list, 
it is so meagre. The fact is, there are vory few plants with coloured leaves 
that will bear greenhouse treatment. There are plenty that are hardy, and 
to them wc shall shortly turn our attention. The following are all wc can 
help you to. If any of our readers know of any others we shall be obliged 
by their sending us their names. There arc some of the Aloe tribe that 
have leaves covered w ith ■white watery excrescences, but they scarcely can 
be denominated variegated Agapanthus umbcllatux variegatus, Agave 
Americana variegaia, Aloe varicyalu , (Joodycra Icsscllata (rare), lly - 
dranyca Japonica ruriegata alba and aurea , Solan um pseudo-capsicum 
variegation , l'ucca aloifolium ra r legal um, Y. ulo ifc Until quadricolor , 
and Y. yloriosa varicyalu (almost haruy). 
Names of Plants (A Subscriber). —1 and 3 were so much injured by the 
post-office stamping, that it is impossible to make them out. Send us 
better specimens, folded up in blotting-paper. 2, is Tiectranthus concolor- 
picta of some; but usually called Coleus Blumei. 4, is a very old plant 
of our stoves, called Tradcscantia discolor , one of the Spiderwbrts. 
{11. 11 .)—Yours is Polygala chanucbiuis (Milkwort, or Bastard Box). 
{A Constant Subscriber). —Your double-blossomed white shrub is Spiram 
prnnifoliaplena, or the Sloe-leaved Spiraea; introduced into this country 
from China, in 1814, by Mr. Fortune. There is much information about it 
in the “Horticultural Society’s Journal.” (A’. lf r . A.).— Your Fern is 
Dolystichum aculcatum. It is very variable. 
POULTRY SHOWS. 
Way 20tli and 2Gth. Beveeley. Sec., Francis Calvert, Surgeon, &c. 
June 1st, 2nd, and 3rd, 1859. Bath anh West of England. At Barnstaple, 
Devon. Director, S. litman, Esq. 
June 6th, 7th, and 8th, 1859. Glasgow. See., Robert M‘Cowan, 17, Gordon 
Street, Glasgow. 
July 1st, 2nd, 4th, and 5th. SurmELU. Wilson Ovcrcnd, Chairman. 
Entries close the 15tli of June. 
A DAY’S SPORT WITH A SCIENTIFIC FRIEND. 
A eight 'pleasant fellow was Charles Markham. Wc sat on 
the same form at school; and, although very different in dispo¬ 
sition, wo were sworn friends. My chums said I was hot: my 
foes said I was passionate. Well, I cannot say which was right 
—both were, perhaps. I used to fret over my lessons, and ehule, 
and give up the task ; and often I was called to a better feeling, 
and to one nearly allied to shame, when I looked up and caught 
Charles Markham’s blue eye steadily fixed on me, and a quiet 
smile playing round his mouth, lie had an inexhaustible 
patience. Re was an ardent angler ; and we often went together 
to a stream, where we threw flies for dace, and sometimes were 
rewarded by a small trout. It was fishing under difficulties, for the 
banks were not open. My line was continually what we used to 
call “ hitched-up,” and as constantly broken by my violent efforts 
to clear it. The same thing seldom happened to Charles ; and 
when it did, lie always steadily and quietly disengaged it. Half 
my time was taken up repairing my tackle : he fished quietly on, 
and caught three times as much as 1 did. lie was never in a 
hurry; and his constant store of patience continually provoked 
me to lose the little I had. Quiet, cool, and self-possessed, bold 
where it was necessary, he took a position in the school which 
all my quarrels and fights could not gain for me: ho was the 
captain—the first boy. We were many years together; and 
when the time for leaving was at hand, we mutually felt a little 
depressed, although it was tire beginning of the grand start for 
us. He was clever, studious, aud mechanical. He had made a 
camera with a cigar box, a telescope with an old book-cover and 
such helps as a boy finds at school—he had sketched the school 
and all belonging to it. 
“Well, old fellow,” said he lo me, “here, then, we part. 
What are you going to do ? ” 
“ Me P They want to make mo a chemist. I shall be a farmer. 
I must hunt, and shoot, and all that. I am not as clever as 
you are. What will you be ? ” 
“ I don’t know,” lie said. “ You know my mother is a widow. 
I have no capital to start with; and I shall go to London and 
seek my fortune.” 
“Never mind, Charley,” I said, “you are sure to get on.” 
We shook hands heartily ; and parted, after promising to cor¬ 
respond. We did so for many years ; but of late not so fre¬ 
quently as we used to do. I was installed in a farm, had been 
somo years married, and he was become a noted man in the 
scientific world. I often read and heard of him. He had nume¬ 
rous capitals tacked to liis name; but his letters told of an over¬ 
worked brain. 
At last I heard from him that the physicians had ordered an 
entire change of air, scene, and pursuits, aud absolute rest. I 
then received the following letter :—- 
“ Hoar old Fellow,—The doctors say I want an entire change, 
in order to recruit my health; and you say you want me to 
have a day’s shooting with you. 1 will obey both. I am now 
about to provide the necessary equipment, and hope to be with 
you next Monday. “ i am, 
, “ Yours, as at school, 
“ Charles Markham.” 
I had not seen him since we left school. My wife aud I 
speculated as to what he would be. She laughingly said she was 
afraid of clever men, wondered whether he took sinillj whether 
he wore gold spectacles, and whether he dealt in hard words and 
learned terms : but sho was, and is, a good wife ; and she pre¬ 
pared a hearty welcome for her husband’s friend, f joked much 
with her before he came; I enlarged on Ins taste for science and 
mechanics ; I taught her to dread the arrival of a number of 
mahogany cases—all brass-bound, and containing scientific and 
philosophical instruments ; 1 told her to brush up all the know¬ 
ledge that nursery duties had thrown in arrears; — in short, I 
prepared her for a regular Hr. Faustus. 
1 went lo meet the train. Although many years had passed, 
1 was at no loss to know my old friend. Ho looked ill, and older 
than I expected. He had not grown as much as I thought he 
would. At school ho was the taller, but I had out-grown him. 
He had not lost the clear, kind, speaking, blue eye ; but it seemed 
that illness had given it a sad expression; and, although the samo 
smile played round his mouth when lie met me, it no longer 
seemed to reside there. Wc were <jlad to see each other. 
As I drove him from the station there was a fresh breeze that 
met us, and lie enjoyed it. 
“ The doctor was not wrong,” said he; “ this will put me to 
rights.” 
“ How often,” said I, “ have you been in the country since we 
left school P ” 
“ Never,” was his answer, “ save now and then for a day’s 
fishing.” 
Our ride was short, and we arrived at home. My wife met 
him at the door. What a difference the reception makes when a 
stranger goes to a strange house. It may bo the warm salutation 
on the threshold which at once dispels all novelty, or the formal 
look of a servant, who ushers you into a prim room, where the 
lady rises on your entrance, and bids you to accept a welcome 
which you have difficulty in finding. I was thankful for her 
kindness to him. 1 looked at the luggage and smiled. There 
were a large portmanteau, a bag, a gun-ease in a new leather 
cover, and a strong, square deal box. 
“Como in,” said my wife, “ your luggage shall betaken to your 
room.” 
“ Thank you ; but this deal box requires care.” 
My wile and myself had been telegraphing about that same 
box behind Charles’s back, and we could not help laughing. The 
twenty years wo had been separated vanished hi an instant; the 
quiet smile of scliool-boy days came back; the same glance that 
had been so familiar to me there; aud, looking at me, he said,— 
“Now, what have-you been at, old fellow ?” 
I had no secrets from my old chum ; and at onco, in spite of 
sundry “ don’ts ” from my wife, confessed all 1 had said and done. 
The story of the brass-bound boxes, the snulf, the gold spectacles, 
the hard words, the learned sentences—all were retailed, and 
Charles was started up-stairs to dress for dinner. 
Still ho did not disclose the secret of the box; but, as he 
went up-stairs, he turned and said, “Please to be careful with 
that box.” 
Oh, what questions I had from my wife! What did I think 
that box contained P it was too bad of me to tell all we had 
