258 
THE GARDENING WORLD 
December 21, 1895. 
SOME CHOICE DAFFODILS. 
Accompanying this I give an illustration of Daffodils 
which at once will remind the readers of The 
Gardening World that these popular flowers of 
spring are to us what Irises and Paeonies are to 
summer, or what Dahlias, Chrysanthemums and 
Hellebores are to autumn and winter. In February 
the fresh green foliage at once indicates that the 
Daffodil is frost-resisting, and it may be said defies 
hard frost and nipping winds of the severest winters. 
Those who have not yet planted should lose no time 
in procuring bulbs and planting them at once in a 
fertile loam, although they may be grown in any 
ordinary garden soil. 
The varieties illustrated are as follows:—N. 
maximus (on the top right hand comer) has flowers 
which are rich golden yellow, very large, and with an 
elegant twist in its perianth which is characteristic 
of this variety. N. Johnstoni Queen of Spain (on the 
opposite corner) is a very showy variety with soft, 
clear yellow flowers, the perianth segments of which 
reflex similarl; to those of a Cyclamen. It was 
introduced by Mr. Peter Barr about 1890. N. Barrii 
conspicuous (in the middle) is an exceedingly showy 
variety with large broad perianth segments 
and broad cup heavily edged bright orange- 
scarlet. This is one of the best for forcing, 
for pots in conservatory or in beds, and is 
a very free bloomer. N. triandrus albus (at the 
bottom right hand corner) is popularly known as 
” Angels’Tears.” The flowers are variable in size, 
pure white, and with elegantly reflexed segments. 
N. minor (to the left of N. Barrii conspicuous) has 
flowers of a full yellow, with its perianth 
segments gracefully twisted. N. nanus (below the 
last named) is also a full yellow, with very early, 
drooping flowers. N. minimus (at the bottom) is 
the smallest and dwarfest of all the trumpet-shaped 
Daffodils, and suited only for nooks on rockeries 
and for pot culture. Its flowers are clear yellow and 
very early.— W. L. 
--f-- 
INTERESTING ROOT AND VEGETABLE 
SHOW AT EDINBURGH. 
In the Scottish capital, when All Hallows Fair 
comes round, Mr. Robert Inch, who has long held a 
high reputation in the seed trade, holds in his ware¬ 
house, at 1, Victoria Street, a show of roots and 
vegetables, which are all grown from seed supplied 
by him, and are exhibited bv growers who are his 
regular customers. The show this year is one that 
will bear comparison with any that have gone 
before, and can hardly be surpassed by any of the 
exhibitions at the larger shows. 
Notwithstanding the season in the North has this 
year been very unfavourable for the development of 
the root crop, Mr. Inch's show of roots is as impos¬ 
ing and attractive as any one he has ever held, and 
that is saying a good deal. 
The beautiful shape, remarkable weight, size, and 
imposing appearance of the roots this year exhibited 
are immensely enhanced by the tasteful way in which 
they are arranged. The two kinds most prominently 
represented are Mr. Inch’s staple varieties, namely, 
Inch's Prize Purple-top Swede, a beautiful round 
variety, very firm in the flesh, a very heavy cropper, 
and one whose keeping qualifies cannot be surpassed ; 
and The Dothan Green-top Golden-Yellow Swede, 
which was raised by Mr. Auchterlonie, of Dothan, 
Kirkcaldy, and of which Mr. Inch holds the sole stock, 
acquired at considerable cost. It is in demand all 
over the United Kingdom, is also a very heavy 
cropper, of most attractive shape, and possessing 
richness of flesh. In addition to this there is a 
beautiful lot of Inch's Bronze-top Yellow, which is 
a wonderfully heavy cropper of grand shape and 
quality. 
Mangolds are grown principally by South 
of England customers, but there are some very 
creditable ones from Pitcox, Dunbar. Inch’s 
Green Drumhead Cabbage and the Selected Drum¬ 
head Savoy, sent out by the same firm, made a grand 
display, some of the latter weighing upwards of a 
quarter of a hundredweight. The exhibition was 
really a splendid one, and reflects very great credit 
upon the enterprise of Mr. Inch 
Vines and Vine Culture.—The best book on Grapes. By 
Archibald F. Barron, Superintendent of the Royal Horticultural 
Society’s Gardens, Chiswick; Secretary of the Fruit Com¬ 
mittee. Demy 8vo., Handsomely bound in Cloth, Price, 5s. 
post free, 5s. 3d., from Gardening World Office, i, 
Clement's Inn, Strand, W.C. 
EIliEY DEANE 
By Evelyn C. Griffiths. 
CHAPTER I. 
Dr. Curum goes in search of a Nurse. 
*' Dear, dear ; it is very provoking, very ! Why 
will women be so obstinate ? I must find someone. 
But where ? I do not know of a soul that I can 
trust. There is old Mrs. Snorby—she cannot keep 
awake ; then there is Mrs. Tipple—she would not do 
at all—not at all—drinks like a fish. Mary Aeling 
would have suited, only her children are laid up with 
the measles ; then as to Sally Tawky, she would be 
worse than useless, for she chatters like a parrot ! 
I wonder if Mrs. Andrews would know of anyone ; 
she might. Anyhow, there would be no harm in 
asking, so I will call in at the Vicarage as I pass.” 
The speaker was Dr. Curum, ofBewdley ; a short, 
fat, little man of rotund and florid countenance. 
Being the only doctor within some miles he 
possessed a very high estimation of his own impor- 
portance and great abilities. He was one of those 
specimens of humanity who constantly have the 
uncomfortable appearance of being in a state of 
ooze. Upon the occasion to which I refer this 
liquid condition was even more apparent than 
usual, on account of its being an extremely hot day 
in the middle of July ; also because it required a 
great deal of physical exertion on the part of the 
little doctor to prevent his lazy cob, Fogger, coming 
to a standstill altogether. 
He stopped the chastisement at short intervals to 
mop his head and face with a large bandana hand¬ 
kerchief. This red handkerchief, when not in active 
operation, always hung five or six inches out of his 
coat-tail pocket. 
Two countrymen passing him en route seemed 
much amused at the little man's appearance, and 
one of them, taking his clay from between his lips, 
remarked, “ I say, Tom, the old Doctor looks like a 
pat of butter that have been put afore the fire to get 
warm and have been forgot, don’t he ? ” 
"So he do, Bill,” replied his mate. ”1 don’t 
know how he keeps so awful fat; why, he's always 
a-dripping like ! ” Luckily Dr. Curum did not hear 
this, and drove on all unconscious of the oily remarks. 
The Vicarage was a pretty old-fashioned place, 
built in the Elizabethan style, approached by a long 
avenue of fine Fir trees, through which glinted a tiny 
lake, spanned by an artistic Ivy-covered bridge. 
The front of the house was completely covered with 
a magnificent Wistaria, which formed a light green 
framework to the deeply embayed windows, and lent 
a picturesque appearance to the house. 
The Vicar, his wife, and their three little 
daughters were taking tea in the garden beneath a 
fine Ash tree when the Doctor drove up. 
“ Glad to see you, Doctor,” cried the Vicar, rising 
as he spoke. “ Very warm to-day, is it not ? Sit 
you down here and have some tea. I will tell John 
to put your horse up.” 
"No thank you ! no thank you, my dear sir ! ” cried 
the Doctor. "I cannot stop a moment. Sit down 
madam, sit down ; pray do not let me disturb you. 
I’m in a hurry, a great hurry. I just called in as I 
passed to see if you could help me out of a little 
difficulty in which I am placed. The fact is Lady 
Bewdley has been taken seriously ill, and it is 
necessary that she should have a nurse to attend 
her. Of course, she has her maid, Hortense, who 
is quite capable of waiting upon her in the day time, 
but you see the same person cannot undertake night 
and day work; so I want to find some respectable 
person to be with her ladyship at night. Now, I do 
not know of anyone, but thought that probably you 
or your good lady might.” 
" I found Sister Frances—you will remember, 
Doctor,” said Mrs. Andrews, " the nurse who helped 
me last year when my children Lad the fever—I 
found her to be an excellent sick nurse ; would she 
do? She came from a London hospital.” 
“ That's just it, my good lady ! ” cried the little 
Doctor, mopping his head furiously "That's justit 1 
Her ladyship will not allow me to get a professional 
nurse—will not allow me !—absolutely refuses to 
have one in the house ! ” 
"What is the matter with her, Doctor; is she 
really seriously ill ? If not, perhaps one of the 
village women would do." 
" Dear, dear, no ! Would not do at all! Her 
ladyship broke a blood-vessel this morning, and, as 
the haemorrhage might come on again at ary 
moment, I want to find some sensible person who 
has got her wits about her, and whom I can trust to 
keep awake at night. A London nurse is the thmg_ 
of course, but she will not have one. Women are 
so obstinate ! Once they get an idea in'o their heads 
there is no getting it out again. So senseless ! so 
stupid ! ” The little man dissolved and mopped 
aster than ever in his righteous ire. 
Mrs Andrews thought for a moment ; then, look¬ 
ing at her husband inquiringly, said, “ Do you think 
Miss Deane would do, dear ? ” 
The Vicar looked doubtful. 
“ There would be no harm in asking her,” he said, 
after a pause : ” though I am afraid she is too 
delicate to undertake night work.” 
" Who is Miss Deane ? ” cried Dr. Curum " Is 
she young ? Is she accustomed to sickness, and 
where does she live ? ” 
Mrs. Andrews smiled at the way the Doctor 
hurried his questions one after the other. 
" Miss Deane is an orphan ; her mother died three 
weeks after her birth; her father—a clergyman— 
died six months ago, of consumption. He was ill 
three jears ; so she has seen something of sickness. 
Her age is two-and-twenty. and she lives in the 
next village. I will give you her address if you 
think she would suit. I believe I have answered all 
your questions, Doctor ? ” 
" Yes, yes ; but will she go out nursing ? How 
does she live ? Is she poor ? ” 
" I am afraid the poor girl is very badly off, 
Doctor. She has to make her living, and I very 
much fear that she has great trouble in making ends 
meet. But this is only a surmise, for she rarely 
speaks of herself. She comes here twice a week to 
give my little ones lessons in drawing. I like the 
girl very much indeed, and feel quite sure that if she 
will undertake to attend Lady Bewdley you will be 
able to trust her to do it conscientiously.” 
"Just the very person, just the very person!” 
cried Dr. Curum, in delight. “ I will call upon her 
at once. Is that her address ? Oh! thank you. 
Perhaps too delicate did you say ? Not at all, net 
at all ! She shall have plenty of port wine. Good¬ 
bye, good-bye.” 
After nearly an hour's wrestling with Fogger the 
doctor drew up before a pretty little thatched 
cottage. Throwing the reins to a small boy who 
stood near, he alighted from the gig and knocked 
impatiently at the door. His summons was 
answered by a tidy-looking woman in a black dress 
and clean white apron. Upon his asking if Miss 
Deane was at home she replied in the affirmative, 
and showed him into a cosy little room where the 
young artist was sitting, saying, as she opened the 
door:— 
” Dr. Curum wishes to speak to you, if you please f 
Miss." 
Eiley Deane, who was sitting near the window at 
a n easel, painting, rose as the doctor entered, with 
her palette and brushes in her hand. She was a 
tall, elegant girl of slight figure, dressed in a long 
black, tight-fitting gown, which enhanced the pallor 
of her face. Her eyes were large, dark and sad 
looking, her hair the darkest brown, naturally wavy, 
and twisted into one loose knot at the neck. 
The doctor thought the vicar had put it mildly, 
saying she was delicate. In his opinion she looked 
dreadfully ill. But, he thought, what am I to do ? 
her ladyship must have someone to nurse her, and ( 
of course, she is the first consideration. 
" Put down that rubbish, my dear : I want to talk 
to you,” he said, in his brusque way. "You will 
ruin your eyesight painting by this light.” 
The girl flushed slightly, and her dark brows con¬ 
tracted as she asked coldly :—” To what am 1 
indebted for this visit ? ” 
Dr. Curum felt uncomfortable. He was 
accustomed to being treated with deference 
and humility by the simple country folk who 
formed his world ; and here was a bit of a girl 
who was treating him as though he was nobody ! It 
was not so much the manner in which she spoke, as 
the expression of the honest brown eyes looking full 
at him, which made him feel uncomfortable. 
“What a very disagreeable young person,” he 
muttered to himself. “ Obstinate—decidedly 
obstinate.” Then aloud " I beg your pardon ; I 
ought to have introduced myself; but I took it for 
granted that you knew me. I am Dr. Curum—Dr. 
Curum—everyone knows me, everyone! I don t 
