56S 
THE GARDENING WORLD 
May 7, 1887. 
SMALL AURICULA GROWERS. 
So another Auricula Show in London is over,—and a 
very pretty show it was. ¥e adorers of the Auricula 
are apt to think an Auricula show as far removed, in its 
delicious delicacy, from other and gayer Flower Shows, 
as is pale biscuit-china from brightly coloured pottery. 
And it was impossible not to regret that that table, with 
its snow-sprinkled green load of beauty and its unique 
perspective, could not be left undisturbed for eight-and- 
forty hours, so that Londoners might go home the first 
evening to think about what their eyes had feasted on, 
and return next day to feast anew before the long fast 
till April, 1888 !—How many times did we turn in our 
slow retreat at last to the distant door to have one 
more look at the beautiful assemblage ! How passingly 
did even the Roses, brave Roses though they were, 
divert our attention from the quiet stars of grey, white, 
green, purple, peeping above that frosty mist of foliage ! 
In one of the newspaper reports of the exhibition occurs 
an expression of satisfaction that “the number of 
small growers seems to be increasing,” and all who love 
the Auricula will echo the note of approbation. Yet 
may I, as one of the “small growers,” say a word or 
two ? 
Most of the Auriculas exhibited on the 26th ult. 
were shown by growers rich in the resources which are 
of priceless value in a cold, late spring. If we except 
the superb flowers staged by the Rev. F. D. Horner, 
—which seemed to have brought the dew of the garden 
to London with them,—and a few single specimens in 
different quarters of the show, there were few collec¬ 
tions there that were not faintly suggestive of the heat 
that had stimulated them to a quick-step not piped by 
Nature, so far, in 1887. Now we small growers are 
not so paltry-spirited as to grudge their great privileges 
to the happy possessors of lean-to or span-roof houses, 
of pipes, boilers and stoves, and ventilators as good as 
punkahs. Away with the very thought of such a mean 
disposition ! Who should applaud and admire the suc¬ 
cess and skill of the great growers so cordially as we, 
enlisted as we are in the service of the same royal 
flower, and jealous of her honour ? I, for my part, 
would rather see Mr. Horner’s Auriculas at home than 
any sight in the world, though the spectacle would 
probably leave “no more spirit” in me than the Queen 
of Sheba could boast of after she had completed her 
survey of King Solomon’s wonderful possessions. Nay, 
though I am not able to see them, the very knowledge 
that there is a garden, that there are houses, where the 
Auricula has nothing left to desire, is a sort of 11 glory 
in the air” to me. 
But might not room he found among the arrange¬ 
ments at the South Kensington exhibitions for an 
acknowledgment of the small growers’ contracted 
sphere, in the shape of a prize or two to be competed for 
only by those who can command, no artificial heat ! Or, 
failing that, might not the London show be a May- 
day festival, so as better to equalise the chances of all 
competitors by giving a little more time ? I have a 
few flowers ready to show now (May 3) which it would 
have been a mockery to enter a week ago, and my 
case must be the case of others in like circumstances. 
And in the uncommon event of an English spring 
without cutting winds and heart-chilling frosts, it 
would he far easier to keep back over-eager blooms 
than it is to push unwilling buds into flower. Let the 
great growers strain their imaginations for a moment. 
Let them first realise and then pity the sorrows of the 
small growers, and more especially of those who live 
in London. For weeks together this year our only 
auxiliary force has been matting. Matting wet,— 
heavy with snow ; matting dry,—-full of dark-com¬ 
plexioned dust; matting charged through warp and 
woof with London blacks ; matting fringed into 
frivolous ribbons woven in the wind's wild loom. Oh ! 
“the weakness of the War Department” when only 
matting is at hand wherewith to meet such foes as 
easterly winds, northerly winds, fog, and black frost, 
and snow, with an occasional glaring stare of the sun 
into the frames, to see how miserable the inhabitants 
are ! The long-enduring plants here were stonily 
apathetic for quite a month beyond their usual time of 
awaking, and when at last the buds did begin to appear 
here and there, they came on, not evenly and 
graciously, day by day, but with short jerks and long 
pauses that reminded one of that peculiar form of 
progress known in the dancing-school as the “Stop 
Walk.” And who, thus discouraged, could venture 
upon a kin illy watering, such as our superiors in the 
lean-to and the span-roof houses were regularly 
bestowing without a misgiving ? Except with one’s 
tears how could one dare to water with the mercury at 
freezing-point, and only matting between the blacks 
on the frames and the black in the sky, swept about 
by the industrious besom of a north-easterly blast ? 
Well, all that is over, for this year at least,—the 
frames are open now, and there are the few flowers that 
were determined to bloom, cost what it might. Very 
small is the honourable band, as honourable bands are 
wont to be. There stand Beauty and Smiling Beauty 
side by side, and there is Peveril of the Peak, and 
beyond him Topsy and Lancashire Hero, this last the 
most diminutive of (heroes. And on the shelf below 
them is an Alpine that would worthily have graced 
last week’s exhibition table, if only there had been 
anything more genial than matting to coax her into 
getting ready in time. She is Florence (Douglas), a 
gold-hearted flower with petals so deeply purple as to 
be all but black. Her truss carries five pips, all large, 
and fine, and flat, and she is a real beauty of her kind. 
Florence is flanked by other Alpines still less forward,— 
Mercury, Diadem, Etna, Norah, and King of Crimsons. 
“Are those all ?” cries somebody in high disdain ; 
‘ * why, how ridiculous to call yourself a grower at all ! ” 
Perhaps so. But yet,—though George Lightbody and 
Ringleader, True Briton, Mayflower, Frank Simonite, 
Acme, Talisman, Incomparable, and others of birth as 
noble as they, to say nothing of many seedlings,— 
though all these give me nothing better this year than 
perfectly healthy foliage, crisply green or silvery white, 
they have been more sinned against than sinning ; they 
have had only the hospitality of the smallest of small 
growers. And who knows that next year they may not 
give, in return for three seasons of even that, a smile, in 
the shape of a truss, apiece ? “ Many a little makes a 
mickle,” as we all knew in the nursery. Meanwhile, 
friends, will not other “very small growers” tell us 
who read The Gardening World how they have 
fared this season ? I hope they will, before the 
Auricula is swept out of all thoughts, except those of a 
faithful few, by the rush of summer flowers to which 
all the world does homage.— C. A. Ct. 
-- 
HARDENING OFF BEDDING 
PLANTS. 
Last week I passed in review some of the subjects 
that are suited for embellishing the flower-garden in 
summer. Next follows the duty of hardening off such 
things as require it. Subjects that have been struck 
in a pit and grown on into size, if still there, should be 
placed in a cold frame and the lights kept close for two 
or three days, taking care that no cold draughts are 
allowed to play upon them, until such time as they 
have become inured to a colder climate. Plants that 
have been in cold frames for some time may be stood in 
the open air if space is wanted, taking care that they 
are well watered on drying days. The process of 
hardening off is a very important one, especially when 
the flower-beds are in exposed positions. What is a more 
melancholy sight than to see tender plants put out into 
beds before they have been sufficiently hardened off ? 
Cold nights, and, perchance, early-morning frosts, soon 
impart to them a miserable appearance. 
It may be that some of the readers of The Gar¬ 
dening AYorld may follow the advice I gave last 
week, and purchase bedding plants. If they come 
some distance by rail, they will, no doubt, have been 
packed in moss or soft wadding ; as soon as they are 
unpacked they should be stood in a cold frame, or, 
failing a frame, in some warm position, and sprinkled 
overhead, and then covered up close to recover. I have 
known young green-Dahlia plants to be sent 400 miles 
in a hamper, laid on their sides with layers of moss 
on them ; when taken out placed in a frame, sprinkled 
overhead and shut up close, and in a day or two looked 
as fresh as they did when packed. But much depends 
upon the packing. When plants are packed in as tight 
as possible they travel much better than when packed 
loosely and carelessly. 
Any plants that, like Calceolarias, are not of so 
tender a character as to be harmed by frost, may be 
j>lanted out soon. While the temperature is so low at 
night, and cold winds from the north-east prevail, it is 
well not to put out anything scarcely, unless want of 
room makes it necessary to do so. 
The working of the beds will be improved by forking 
them over once more, and, if it is available, adding a 
dressing of sifted soil from the refuse bench, which 
greatly assists the plants in laying hold upon the soil. 
In any planting out that I do—either of Primroses, 
Polyanthus, Stocks, Asters, Pansies, Aquilegias, &c.— 
I always place about the roots a little finely-sifted 
refuse soil, mingled with some fine cocoa-fibre refuse, 
and the roots seem to work in it directly. I think the 
death of many plants of Calceolaria results from 
planting them out without proper soil about the roots 
to enable them to get to work’. Especially is this the 
case in villa gardens in the suburbs of London, where 
the soil is harsh and often unsuitable. I am plagued 
with such, and I neutralise its effects to a large extent 
by adopting the practice I have just recommended. 
— E. D. 
-- 
VIBURNUM TINUS HIRTA. 
In this we have a useful and ornamental variety of 
an old plant capable of furnishing a large quantity of 
handsome white flowers of great purity, at a season 
when white flowers of any kind are most appreciated. 
It is hardy in all but the severest winters, consequently 
a large number of plants in pots for forcing purposes 
could be housed at a minimum outlay. Except during 
intense frost, no artificial heat would be required by 
plants enjoying the protection of a glass structure, until 
wanted for forcing purposes. The ordinary form flowers 
in the open air during the autumn and winter months 
in mild seasons. Under these conditions, however, the 
flowers are tinted with pink or purple. 
The variety under notice is a greatly improved form 
with intensely dark green, coriaceous, more or less hairy 
leaves—the latter character being overlooked by our 
artist, although otherwise the figure is a faithful repre¬ 
sentation of this elegant shrub. The flowers are ivory- 
white, and although small, are collected in dense 
terminal semi-globular cymes, which are seen to the 
best advantage when furnished and supported with 
their own leaves. Unlike the Camellia, plants, whether 
grown in pots or planted out, are benefited rather than 
otherwise by an annual cutting back, so that leafy sprays 
can well be afforded and always look very natural. The 
substitution of this variety for the ordinary one would 
be of great advantage to those who grow large bush or 
pyramidal specimens in pots or tubs for cool conserva¬ 
tory work. Messrs. Cutbush & Son, of Highgate Hill, 
are always very successful with this plant at the spring 
exhibitions, and make a special feature of it, being able 
to furnish large quantities for cut flower purposes with 
little labour or outlay. 
Being naturally a winter-flowering subject, the least 
provocation in the matter of forcing is requisite to bring 
it into bloom ; their cultivation is an easy matter, and 
those who grow Deutzias could manage the plants 
easily. After flowering, cut the plants into shape and 
keep them in a cool house till they start into growth of 
their own accord ; of course by urging them into growth 
earlier they would be induced to ripen their buds and 
flower sooner next autumn or winter. If it is necessary 
to re-pot, give them a shift, using a compost of fibrous 
loam with a mixture of well-rotted cow manure and 
sand. In summer they may be plunged out of doors in 
ashes in a sunny, or at least, in a position well exposed 
to light. 
-->So- 
CHISWICK HOUSE. 
In spite of the encroachments of the builder, London 
can still boast of some pleasant spots in its immediate 
neighbourhood, quiet and secluded places of retirement, 
oases as it were in the wide expanses of bricks and 
mortar still rapidly expanding in every direction. 
Chiswick House is one of these, and possesses both an 
antiquated appearance, and an interesting history. It 
is not our purpose at present to relate or discuss its 
history, but essay to describe its appearance now, all 
inadequately as the pen can do it. 
The boundary walls include sixty acres of ground, 
and owing to the greater part of these being occupied 
with trees, some of great antiquity and others more 
recently planted, the principal features of the place are 
the copses, woods, endless and labyrinthie walks in¬ 
tersecting the latter in every direction ; grassy glades, 
and other sylvan scenery, having a natural and truly 
rustic appearance. By the courtesy of Mr. May, the 
gardener, we were enabled to make a circuit of inspec¬ 
tion, and were not more delighted with it than with 
his knowledge and appreciation of the various trees 
and other subjects grown. 
