THE GARDENING WORLD. 
THE 
MATEUP V ’S jjAP v DEN. 
PrihrosIs And Polyanthuses. —There is no 
royal road to the culture of these hardy plants, 
neither is there any stereotyped method of culture. 
The system which will answer well in one locality 
may not prove as successful in another, and 
although anyone literally may grow them where 
nature has furnished a deep soil and cool showery 
summers, it is anything hut childs play to get 
them to thrive well in hot positions, where the 
soil is either shallow, or if deep, burns and bates 
in summer like brickclay. Like so many of the 
Primula family, the veris and acaulis sections are 
developed by means of rhizomes that, unlike those 
of P. Sieboldii which run laterally, really have 
erect or vertical growth, and it must be the aim 
of the cultivator to promote the developmmt of 
this form of growth by providing food or soil on 
which the newly formed rhizomatic roots may feed. 
A mass of old rhizome or useless stem below the 
plant is a danger and generally a free cause of 
death. Once the new growth has made roots into 
the surface-soil, the old stem becomes valueless and 
might be well dispensed with. 
In the case of old stools, or clusters of crowns, 
it is not possible to remove the old stem and roots 
except by lifting, but in propagating or increasing 
plants by removal and division the more cleanly 
the old exhausted stem is cut away the better. It 
is when Primroses or Polyanthuses are growing in 
deep cool soil beneath trees (although that position 
does not answer in all eases) and the falling leaves 
and other vegetable matter accumulates and decays 
about the crowns, furnishing food in the form of a 
surface or top dressing, that the plants thrive and 
do well. In other places they will also do well when 
given the good holding soil but neither natural shade 
nor surfacing, some rich food and shelter being given 
artificially. In some other cases good hardy border 
sorts will do well without the shade, indeed fully 
exposed to the full heat of the sun if only the sur¬ 
facing be given. The cultivator will inevitably 
have to find out for himself what sort of culture 
best suits his soil and situation, and only when 
this is done can full success be hoped for. In the 
warmer portions of the Kingdom, and specially 
where the sun’s rays provoke spider and thrip, it 
is simply impossible to keep alive in the open any 
of the choicer forms of Primroses or Polyanthuses. 
Northern growers may perchance smile at the 
assertion, because their localities are favourable, 
but they would find a vast difference had they to 
grow or attempt to grow them in hot southern 
districts. 
The safest course, under the conditions of soil and 
position stated, is to lift the plants either in the 
autumn or spring, cut or break off the best crowns 
which are replanted in good soil. In this way 
literally new plants are obtained and a fresh lease 
of life is assured. If the soil be of a stiff bindino- 
nature it is best to do the replanting early in the 
spring, as if done in the autumn the soil may be 
very hard set by winter rains and thus bake fear¬ 
fully in the summer. A light friable soil is in no 
such danger. Another plan, and one we find abso¬ 
lutely needful with many kinds that withstand 
summer droughts badly, is to lift in the autumn, 
divide to single crowns, and then plant up in 
frames for the winter. These will make fine youno- 
plants to go out in March, but if left out in the sod 
might from stem rot entirely disappear. All these 
precautions are absolutely needful in the case of 
specific kinds, that are either named or it is desired 
to perpetuate, and a frame or two is indeed well 
employed in the wintering of a good number of 
young plants of these beautiful flowers. 
After all, the chief source of young strong 
plants should be found in raising from seed. 
Nothing can be easier than to obtain a large quan¬ 
tity from seed either by purchase or by savins 
our own seed from good kinds. We have now 
growing a large number of Primrose and Polyan¬ 
thus seedlings all from the past season’s seed SOW 4 
under glass in June, in fact, almost as soon as ripe. 
Many of these will bloom next spring, but all will 
make fine plants and bloom most luxuriantly next 
winter and following spring. These of course send 
their roots deeply as soon as well established, and 
they defy the summer heat with comparative ease. 
The following year they will do fairly well and 
then they begin to decay. It is but needful, there¬ 
fore, that a good number of 'seedlings should be 
raised every year to maintain a stock of the most 
charming and varied of garden spring flowers. 
Flower Culture in Railway Signal-Boxes.— 
Our natural love of flowers for their beauty is no 
doubt heightened in many cases by the desire, and 
almost the necessity, of having something to care 
for—something which we know dejtends on us for 
existence. Something of this kind no doubt inspires 
our industrious railway servants, and enables them 
to produce in so many places a number of interest¬ 
ing and well-grown plants, and that, too, under 
great difficulties. The signal-box in most places 
throughout the whole length and breadth of the 
land, contains a loved and cherished specimen or two, 
and at many stations a showy and well-grown col¬ 
lection. How the specimens are in some cases ob¬ 
tained was pleasantly brought before me while 
waiting a few weeks ago at the Kilburn-Brondes- 
bury Station of the Metropolitan Railway. Seeing 
the porter on duty closely examining the line in front 
of the platform, I approached, and found that he 
had discovered a few small seedlings springing up 
in the hard way over which the trains passed every 
ten minutes. One kind looked like young oranges 
from pips thrown on the line, and another kind like 
seedling annuals. The station-master soon came to 
hell) and they were carefully removed. I suggested 
that the signalman should have them, as having 
the better accommodation, but the prompt reply 
was, “ Oh no. Sir, he shan’t have them. I’ll take care 
of them myself.” Happy the poor strays which 
have been lucky enough to secure the tender care 
which will be given them at those rough, honest 
hands. 
The signal-box, however, is the place in which 
the high-class flower culture is carried out, and at 
it we may often see strange things producing great 
results. The other day, at one of the stations in the 
“black country,” I noticed in front of the box a 
great blaze of tall rose-coloured flowers, and a lovely 
net-wofk of foliage and flowers hanging over the 
front, running to the end of the platform. I found 
the display was created by fine plants, in large pots, 
of the common Loose-strife, and the plant hanging 
over the front for three or four feet wns the 
well-known Creeping Jenny, with its clear yellow 
blossoms. Both are weeds in some parts, but are 
as acceptable as the choicest exotic in some situa¬ 
tions, generally where few things flourish without 
care. Another rare show on a signal-box, is to be 
seen on the North-British Railway. The box is 
covered cn the North and North-East sides by a 
profusion of the Flame Nasturtium, such as many 
a wealthy Southron would give any price to see 
in his own garden. The Scarlet Pelargonium is the 
most generally distributed and perhaps the greatest 
favourite, and some are found at most stations. 
Many of them are entered in friendly competition', 
and proud is the owner of the best, as approved of by 
the guards and drivers who have the opportunity 
of comparing them. The interest with which the 
plants are watched was forcibly presented to me 
awhile ago by one of the men, who, in answei to 
my admiration of a finely trained Scarlet Pelaro- 0 - 
nium, came to the front of his box with somethin^ 
like the glow in his face to be seen on the coun¬ 
tenance of the cricketer, when he walks out with 
his bat after scoring his three figures, and said 
“Yes, he is a beauty and better than he was’ 
last year at this tune, for then he only had about 
a hundred and thirty leaves and fourteen bunches 
of flowers.” The fact of the man having counted 
the leaves and flowers proved the interest he had 
taken in the plants. 
The Pelargonium, the Fuchsia, the Creeping 
Jenny, the drooping Campanula, and such like, are 
the principal plants g'lWft along the line, with Bal- 
Sept. 6,18S4. 
sains, Nasturtiums, and other summer plants; but 
wherever we go we here and there come across 
curious plants in the signal box, so much so, that 
we look out for them as an indication of our prox¬ 
imity to some of the great plant establishments. The 
thriving character of the odd things such as Ericas, 
Cactuses, bulbous plants, and other uncommon 
things which I have seen flourishing under the care of 
the railway men, causes me to regret that there are 
not facilities for placing in their hands such things 
as the Myrtle, the Pomegranate, Yallotas, and other 
things easy of culture. Better hands they could 
not be placed in. I am sure. I have derived much 
pleasure from w r atcliing these men’s zeal for their 
favourites, and I am certain the comfort and plea¬ 
sure they derive from their pets cannot be over 
calculated.— J. 
Window Gardening. —Ill choice of a window of 
proper aspect to grow a plant in often results in 
failure, and consequently a number of plants may 
dwindle miserably in a house when a little fore¬ 
thought as to the proper windows at which to place 
them, might turn them into objects of beauty. 
Thus it is that the chance selection of a plant suited 
to a particular window often causes it to be an 
admirable object when, if removed to the other side 
of the house, it would be only unsightly in a short 
time. The common Musk is one of our best indoor 
plants, and to what perfection it can be brought is 
amply shown by the large specimens exhibited at 
our cottagers’ shows, but the successfully grown 
specimens tell nothing of the number of others 
which have never even fairly started in their neigh- 
bom-hood by reason of their being wrongly placed. 
The fact is the Musk is a shade-loving plant, and, 
therefore, it rarely fails if placed in a window in a 
north or north-east aspect, and, indeed, in such a 
situation it wall grow itself. It will also thrive 
tolerably well in any window which is in a shady 
situation, but in one on which the sun is strong it 
stands a poor chance. Grown in a shady window 
and supported by a trellis, we often see lovely 
specimens of it three feet high and over two feet 
across, even in the densely populated parts of the 
City of London. Ferns, too, like a shady window, 
and, therefore, they and the Musk should be accom¬ 
modated with suitable quarters, and thus leave 
the sunny windows for the Cactus, Pelargonium, 
Fuchsia, and India-rubber plant, but even this last 
does not like to have the sunlight full on it in the 
hot weather in summer.— J. B. 
COTTAGE CLIMBEBS. 
It is no mere figure of composition to say that 
there is poetry in a cottage quaintly and luxu¬ 
riantly covered with climbers. In our peregrina¬ 
tions in the rural districts where the shady lanes, 
the flower bedecked hedgerows, the woodlands and 
dells all clothed with the graceful bracken, and the 
meadows and uplands with verdure or waving corn 
—amidst all these elements of beauty and rural re¬ 
pose, we find after all no object which evokes more 
expressions of delight and satisfaction than does a 
picturesque cottage that is clothed with climbers, 
and is set in a prettily kept garden of flowers. Per¬ 
haps it is early summer and the Honeysuckle and the 
Wistaria are in sweet and abundant bloom; or it may 
be later on that Tea and various other climbing 
Roses cover the walls, and their beautiful flowers 
cluster lovingly about the eaves and windows. 
Perchance, too, luxuriantly blooming Clematises, 
yellow Canary Creepers, many hued Convolvuluses, 
and other charming- flowering plants are twining 
themselves about the walls, or the lattices, and 
keep up till the end of summer literally a bower of 
beauty. 
buch a habitation betokens prosperity, happiness, 
love, domestic comfort, and all those surroundings 
which assist to make life truly happy. The whole 
picture tells its own story, and it is one which a 
poet might well convert into a sweet song, for if 
there be in all the broad world no place like home, 
surely that home must be this beautiful cottage, 
the home of all that is sweet and lovely. But even 
yet there is in the picture thus sketched one feature 
that needs further mention. It is the cottage 
porch, the shelter to doorways, sacred to vows of 
youthful love here breathed into willing, yet coy, 
