4 
THE FLORIST AND FOMOLOQIST. 
[January, 
enough for a Bose, never continues in one 
stay, and dies not quite dark enough for a 
Bybloemen. This confusion seems due to a 
mixture of red and violet shades. Where blue 
tints blend with black, as in a flower like 
Hai'dy’s Talisman, the flower is a good Bybloc- 
men ; and where the red is brightened, as in 
vermilion, the resulting scarlets form brilliant 
varieties of the Eose class, such as are Modesty, 
Annie McGregor, or a feathered break of Kate 
Connor. (0, brother Barlow ! let me treasure 
here the memory of the loved and only one 
that you and I ever had, and that was killed 
in an accident on a journey!) 
There can be no doubt but that progress will 
continue to reward thoughtful perseverance 
with seedlings, and that, with flowers of the 
best form, will come the white that needs no 
bleaching, and colours of ripe intensity from 
the first. 
I quite agree with the veteran Mr. Hep- 
worth, that the Bizarres, the j’ellow grounds, 
have proved themselves deserving of the honour 
of distinction into two equally-valued classes, 
by virtue of the magnificent contrasts between 
our best bright reds, such as Storer’s Dr. 
Hardy and Orion, and the raven-black of 
Masterpiece. This seems a natural division, 
which we only embarrass ourselves by ignor¬ 
ing. It is a distinction fully recognised in 
the Carnation in the difference between its 
scarlet and crimson bizarres; but in the 
Tulips it remains a difficulty, and one 
which a judge may keenly feel before two 
flowers running one another so close, that he 
may see no point for his decision but his own 
private preference for this or that colour in 
the flame and feather. 
Points should be founded on settled merits, 
and not on floating tastes. 
The scope for a grower’s individual likings 
lies in his home collection. There, in the 
sanctity of his own garden, he may, if he be 
enough one-eyed and colour-blind, banish from 
his Tulip-beds the Scarlet Bizarre, and confine 
himself to nothing but black velvet in the 
ground-colours of his edged Auriculas ; but no 
such preferences should weigh in public against 
flowers that add to high worth in other points 
the very valuable one of some decided fresh 
break in colour. 
In the shape of the florist Tulip, there are 
several important properties besides the correct 
shortness of the cup, such as breadth, smooth¬ 
ness, and substance of the petals, and their 
evenness on the edge, and in their height. 
Where these are well combined, a little, and 
sometimes a good deal, of deviation from the 
standard length of the cup is practically 
allowable still. There are flowers at the 
Eoyal National Show, both old and new, that 
are certainly long in the cup ; and we have had 
to bear with these, encouraged, however, by 
fine seedlings from such raisers as Dr. Hardy, 
Luke Aslimole, Storer, and others, flowers that 
show great advancement in this supreme point 
of form. 
Planting-time has come and gone again. No 
one need fear for the welfare of his bulbs who 
can consign them to deep beds of strong, turfy, 
yellow loam. The Tulip naturally roots afresh 
about the third week in September, and there¬ 
fore by the middle of October it begins to show 
evident signs that it longs to be underground. 
Where the beds are in no way protected, this is 
generally a safer month for the work than No¬ 
vember, beyond the earlier part of which the 
operation should not be delayed. But planting is 
not such a matter of punctuality as taking up 
should be. Not that, like tubers of the Eanun- 
culus, the Tulip is in danger of rooting again 
soon after dying down, but that there is cer¬ 
tainly a happy moment for harvesting these 
bulbs during their closing life above ground. 
If taken up as soon as the stems will bend 
double without a sharp snap, and the foliage 
tips show that the sap is ebbing, it will be 
found both that the young bulb is perfectly 
formed, and also that though it may ap¬ 
pear white enough to seem naked save for 
the worn-out shells of the old root, yet it 
is not really so. Its outermost layer is an 
exceedingly fine skin, which now will ripen 
closely round the young bulb, with most per¬ 
fect fit and finish, and will encase it, for the 
whole period of its outward rest, in a bright 
transparent wrapper, apparently air-tight, and 
therefore of great use in keeping the bulb from 
loss by evaporation. But if the work of taking 
up be delayed till this stage of maturity is past, 
this protective covering thickens and darkens, 
and with the drying of the bulb will readily 
split and peel off. It is best to dress them 
over as soon as the old shells and old fibres are 
perfectly withered and dry, keeping off-sets, if 
possible, at their mother’s side, or sheltered, if 
naturally loose, in one of the old shells in which 
they often lie. 
