258 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER AND COUNTRY GENTLEMAN, JriY 24, 1S60. 
for a number of years ; care baring; been talien to drain well at 
first, to prevent the entrance of worms, and to top-surface with 
fresh compost every year. 
Eor such window-greenhouses as “Salterton” proposes, I 
would prefer this last plan. In a common sitting-room, the. 
temperature at the window averaging 50°, with a fair amount 
of fresh air, the plants will keep nicely in the spring months 
for a month or six weeks, or more. If the temperature is 
higher, it will be difficult to keep the atmosphere pure and 
moist enough in proportion, and the blossom will be apt to 
fail prematurely, and the plant to get unsightly. Under such 
circumstances the plants will be kept over the winter better 
near the window of an unoccupied room, where little or no fire 
heat is used, and where a little fresh air can be given when the 
outside temperature is not under 35°. In such a place the plants 
should rarely be lower than from 35° to 40°. By shutting such 
a room at night, it would bo rare, even in winter, that fire in the 
grate would be needed to keep out frost. When there is no 
convenience out of doors, and it is dcsirablo that the window's of 
the sitting-room should bo a3 gay as possiblo, a sort of plant- 
room of this kind is necessary as a nursery-reserve for supplying 
the others. An Epacris plant so kept in winter will have a very 
different appearance in March and April, when compared with 
one that was kept all the winter in the sitting-room, and exposed 
to the alternating heats and colds, and dried atmosphere, which 
are imagined necessary for the comfort of the family. 
The Epacris has rarely succeeded as a window plant, because 
some of these little matters have been forgotten. If “ Saxterton ” 
and lady rivals wish to have this pretty acquisition with the help 
of their windows alone, the following is something like the 
system they must follow :—Prune and grow as in the second 
inode, and the window of tire living-room will then be none too 
hot. Place the plant outside the window by July and August, 
if possible, and place the pot inside a larger one, or place the 
plant in similar conditions out of doors. House the plant jn 
October. Place it in the window of a room where little or no 
fire is used in winter ; keeping the plant from frost by moving it 
to the centre of the room, and covering it if necessary, or lighting 
a small fire if absolutely essential. By March bring the plant to 
the window of the sitting-room, and the extra heat and a little 
sponging, or rather brush-daubing with water, will soon swell 
and open the buds. When the flowering is oyer repeat the 
process. In winter, whilst kept cool and airy, the plants will 
want a little water, and that should be a few degrees warmer 
than the average heat of the room. With such care the same 
plants may ornament a sitting-room for years ; without it they will 
rarely last above a season. Judge such care a bore, and there is 
no alternative but to apply to our friends the nurserymen, who 
consider no trifles below their attention. R. Fisf. 
HOW TO PEESEEVE ELOWEES IN' THEIE I 
NATURAL FOEMS AND COLOUES. 
Of late an entirely new article of trade has arisen in Germany 
in the shape of dried flowers. Erfurt, the city of nurserymen i 
and florists, excels in manufacturing bouquets, wreaths, floral 
decorations for rooms, dinner-tables, &c., made of such flowers. 
We are glad that we are enabled to lay before our readers the 
modus operands, by translating for them the following article 
from “ Deutsches Magazin fur Garten und Blumenkunde.” In 
return, we should like to hear of any professional or amateur 
gardeners who try their hand at it, how they have succeeded. 
First condition: get a lot of fine sand, wash it till all the 
soluble particles arc gone—you can test it by pouring the water | 
off till it looks quite clear; when you are quite sure of the fact, 
pom- the sand on stones or boards placed aslant, so that the 
water can run off, and let it get dry either by sun or fire—dry, 
perfectly dry. Then pass the sand through a sieve, so that all 
dusty particles disappear from it, as there will be such which 
washing and drying will not have removed. Then pass through 
a coarse sieve so as to get rid of too large grains. When that°is 
done your sand should be a mass of fine particles of nearly equal 
size, as is, for instance, the so-called silver sand, used for writing. 
Keep the sand in a very dry, if possible also in a warm place, 
that no vitalizing quality may remain in it. 
Now for the flowers—cut them in a fully developed state, 
taking care that they are neither wet nor moist by dew, rain, &c. 
If you cannot obtain them in any other condition, which is to be 
regretted, then the following troublesome proceeding will render 
them dry. Take one or two flowers at a time and put them into 
a glass, into which pour just enough water that the ends can 
stand in it; the flower will then dry and still suck up water 
enough not to fade. 
Next, get a box or a pot, or anything large enough to receive 
your flower or flowers ; pour sand enough into it that they will 
stand by themselves, their stems embedded in the sand. And now 
for that job which calls upon your whole skill and your most 
delicate fingering ; do not be afraid, though practice renders that, 
too, a comparatively easy matter. You have to fill up the box 
above the level of the flowers with sand, so that the flowers are 
completely embedded in it. By means of a tube or a funnel 
or a sieve, just accordingly, you can do it in such way that every 
particle of the flower rests in sand, and that your filling up shall 
not have crumpled or displaced the smallest petal. Of course, 
such a thing can be done only in a very slow way by a beginner. 
And now take care not to shake your box, else the flower 
inside might get hurt. Carry it to a place both dry and warm, 
that all the moisture in the flower may pass into the sand, which 
being porous, is in turn acted upon and will let the moisture 
pass entirely out and get evaporated. Avoid, however, positive 
heat, or the colours of the flower will fade ; whilst at too low a 
temperature the moisture in the flower will not dry quickly 
enough, and so rot it. The warmth should, as a general thing, 
never exceed 100°. 
When you are sure that your flowers have fully dried—a thing 
a very little practice in touching the box will teach you—the 
thing is done. Open the box, and by holding it in a slanting 
direction, let so much sand run out that you can lift the flower 
by the stem; by turning it upside down, shaking it gently, and 
if necessary, blowing on it, all the sand will be removed, and you 
have the flower in its most perfect form. A little brittle, to be 
sure, in such a dry state as this, and, therefore, requiring careful 
handling. But a few days’ exposure to the atmosphere will have 
imparted moisture enough to the flower to make it considerably 
less brittle. 
You now see why we cannot do with the larger grains of sand; 
they would press unequally and spoil the flower, which for ever 
retains all the marks of such pressure; nor with the dusty 
particles of the sand, because they, as well as the soluble particles 
which we have removed by washing, would adhere to the hairy 
and velvety parts of the flower, would never be got rid of, and 
would materially impair the original beauty. 
For the same reason glabrous flowers are not fit “subjects.” 
The very newest feature, however, about this business, is that this 
discovery, how to preserve flowers in their natural state, is quite 
an old affair, long forgotten, and solely resuscitated by the in¬ 
creasing demand for bouquets .—(American Gardener's Monthly .) 
THE MIXED SHEUBBEEY AND ITS 
TEEATMENT. 
There are few things more neglected than the shrubbery. 
Planted very often to act as a screen or shelter, it is often 
allowed to become an entangled mass—the more robust-growing 
shrubs overtopping and eventually killing those of moderate 
growth; and, the whole struggling upwards, the bottoms become 
thin, and, are with the exception of the outside plants, quite 
devoid of foliage for a considerable height upwards. Now this 
state of things is by no means uncommon, and, as the front of 
such shrubbery, invariably hangs forward, and encroaches, 
perhaps, on space required for something else—perhaps a road¬ 
way or flower-border—it is at length determined, after a year 
or two’s consideration of the matter, to cut the intruders back. 
Tlnm comes the disfigurement, which every one finds fault 
with, but which, nevertheless, must be done; though by judicious 
management in years gone by this might, to a certain extent, 
have been avoided in those cases where the clump or belt is of 
sufficient size to admit thinning out the plants without exposing 
the objects it is meant to conceal. In a great many cases a 
rather severe thinning or cutting down must take place once 
in half a dozen years or so; and for some time the shrubs so 
operated upon certainly look badly. This, however, cannot 
well be avoided, but some little judgment is required to make 
this disfigurement of as short a duration as possible. To make 
the matter more plain, let us take one of the most common of 
all examples—the carriage-drive to a villa or residence of some 
one whose whole occupation does not exceed some two or 
three acres. To give concealment to the home, the carriage- 
drive curves from the public road towards it; both sides of 
