ladies’ 
ufiiiiet «lr!1 Pictorial BBEome ^omjiartioa. 
LILY’S FLOWERS. 
Let me preface by saying that Lily was one of that 
large class of persons who hug the delusion that they 
are unfortunate in their undertakings in general, and 
in particular if they presume to meddle with any of 
the enchanted subjects of Flora’s fairy realm. “ One 
must have natural genius to succeed with flowers,” is 
the favorite saying of these self-tormentors, forgetting 
the fact that genius, like faith, is not effective without 
“good works.” My heroine’s belief in this species of 
fatalism was fostered by several untoward ventures in 
gardening in early youth. When a little girl at school 
in the “centennial” city, each member of her class 
was given the care of one plant. Lily being an adorer 
of flowers (I sjieak advisedly), and not comprehending 
the needs of her deities, killed hers with kindness. It 
was watered several times a day with ice-water—“it 
is so refreshing in hot weather”—the earth dug up 
around the roots, and last, but not least, was repotted 
three times in as many days, owing to the breakage of 
the pot in being carried all over the portions of the 
house to which she had access. Fortunately her zeal 
could not extend to the other plants, much as she pitied 
their apparently neglected condition, and they were 
flourishing finely. This failure caused many tears, but 
failed as a lesson, the moral not being understood. A 
second attempt fared still worse, as she redoubled her 
attentions and succeeded in killing it in a shorter time. 
She now fully believed that she was not of the “cir¬ 
cumcised,” and was not to approach the “ Holy of 
Holies,” but to worship afar off. Many years after, 
while riding in the suburbs of a western city, the sign 
“ Selling out below cost,” on the grounds of a nursery 
and greenhouse, attracted her attention. This tempta¬ 
tion could not fail to capture any woman of sense, and 
Lily went boldly in. The surly florist’s good little 
wife—to whom “ladies who did not know what they 
wanted” were turned over—was patient, and explained 
the needs of many of the plants so clearly that Lily 
felt emboldened to try again. Of course her first selec¬ 
tions were blooming Geraniums, Fuchsias, Heliotropes 
and Roses. “They were so easy of culture,” the 
woman had told her. “ In winter, give all the sun 
you can get, waler once a day with tepid water—Hel¬ 
iotropes and Fuchsias more if they appear dry—once 
a week a little, a very little, ammonia in the water; 
wash the plants once a week, being careful to handle 
gently, so as not to disturb the roots, and do not repot 
until you understand more about them; better let 
them remain root-bound than attempt repotting in the 
hit or miss style.” This last counsel was very difficult 
to obey, as Lily’s first thought was to put her plants in 
nice large pots, their present quarters being so crowded 
they would surely be grateful for the change. On inti¬ 
mating this idea to the florist he smiled and advised 
her to do as she thought best, and not fail to let him 
know the result. This decided her to follow the advice 
of the wife, and “ understand more about them” be¬ 
fore making any changes. She accordingly set to 
work industriously to learn about the care of flowers, 
consulted newspapers and magazines for floral sub¬ 
jects (the Cabinet was not issued at that time), culti¬ 
vated the acquaintance of successful amateur florists; 
interested her friends in the good work, and finally 
succeeded in raising flowers to her own satisfaction 
and surprise—and that of many grateful recipients of 
her floral bounty. 
Those little pots troubled her so much, that her first 
care was to acquire a proper knowledge of the soil. 
The first ingredient, with the majority of authori¬ 
ties, was leaf mold. This necessitates many delightful 
trips to an old forest about five miles from the city. 
The giant old trees, almost falling to pieces with age, 
had stood sentinel for years over the swift flow of the 
grand old “Father of Waters.” No young growth 
had been presuming enough to force its way among 
these patriarchs, and they stood alone without des¬ 
cendants on whom their mantles of watchfulness could 
fall. The ferns here, starting up among the mossy, 
gnarled old loots, were finer and more delicate than 
their high-priced exotic sisters, and on being trans¬ 
planted to the sitting-room, accommodated themselves 
wonderfully to their changed quarters—dying down, 
it is true, but after a mouth’s rest starting up again as 
airy and delicate as Titania’s veil. The sand w’as the 
next desideratum. It must be silver sand, if there is 
a cave in the bluff opening on the river bank to goto ; 
common sharp sand may answer even better, if found 
by a sparkling brook or lonely lake where Lilies grow. 
Distance, which lends enchantment to the view, con¬ 
fers also virtues and powers on sand —for flowers. 
Good garden soil and a little old manure for many 
kinds were the remaining ingredients for a good soil. 
By this time Lily’s knowledge had so increased, that 
small pots were no longer a bugbear, and the long- 
deferred repotting did not result in the sacrifice of the 
blooms to “plenty of root room.” The exceptions 
were foliage plants and Chinese Primrose. A paper 
of seed of these latter planted in a cigar box during 
the last of March, in the aforesaid good soil, produces 
a great many little plants. During the hot weather 
in May (the upper Mississippi region is famous for 
arid heats before the leaves appear on the trees), the 
box was placed on the north side of the house, when 
it was observed that the little plants were rapidly dis¬ 
appearing under the ravages of a little fly. They 
■were then removed to the house where the remaining 
fourteen w r ere carefully watched, and transplanted into 
small pots until July, when they were again repotted 
in pots of four different sizes, the largest being six- 
inch pots. This experiment resulted as follows: the 
six-inch pots produced luxuriant foliage and flowers, 
the next in size gave flowers somewhat smaller, and 
so on in the order of size; the smaller the pot the 
smaller the flow’ers. A ten-cent paper of Cyclamen 
seed produced six little bulbs, which withstood all the 
snares with which the path of young plants are beset. 
One needs more patience with these than with the 
Primrose, as only an occasional one blooms the first 
year. Coboea Scaudeus had been tried three years 
without success, and when at last two little plants 
made their appearance, great rvas the rejoicing. Lily 
attributed her final success to the fact of watering only 
once a week before the plants were up. The seeds 
rot if kept as moist as is necessary for other seeds. 
These plants, set out in the open ground in June, at¬ 
tained a height of twenty feet when an early and 
severe frost in September killed them when covered 
with buds. Lily soon discovered that a common col¬ 
lection of plants will endure an occasional pinch of 
frost without permanent injury. During one winter, 
all her plants were frozen three times. On one occa¬ 
sion the earth in the pots was frozen solid, and yet she 
did not lose one. The frozen plants were immediately 
taken to a very dark cellar and left to thaw out slowly 
- — some taking a whole week—and afterward intro¬ 
duced gradually to light and warmth. Callas and 
Heliotrope suffered most, but all were finally restored. 
Cuttings of Geraniums and Fuchsias grew under 
any kind of treatment short of total neglect; Roses, 
Heliotropes and Begonias somewhat more difficult, 
and requiring constant watchfulness. A box two feet 
square with panes of glass fitted into top and sides 
served to cover them and bring back vitality on the 
slightest appearance of wilting. Nothing was found 
as fine as the vines Major Variegatissima for a lawn 
vase or large hanging basket; the roots endure any 
amount of frost apparently without injury. 
Her final success in having blooming flowers during 
the winter is attributed to the weekly washings, the 
amount of light, and the comparatively low tempera¬ 
ture which are secured by means of a large bay win¬ 
dow separated by sliding doors of glass from the sit¬ 
ting-room. These can be closed during sweeping or 
when the temperature is too high for the plants. The 
temperature in this miniature conservatory rarely rose 
above sixty-five degrees during the day, and frequently 
fell to forty degrees in the night. Lily’s experience 
with the more tender exotics -was attended with many 
failures as well as successes, of which more anon. 
Forget-me-not. 
TREATMENT OF CALLAS. 
1 have found that the secret of successful bulb cul 
ture of every kind is in granting them a season of 
complete rest —which means, gradually depriving them 
of all moisture and light—this period commencing 
after blossoming. 
The Calla Lily Reiug one of my favorite plants, 
I -was determined to learn by experience a suc¬ 
cessful method of treating this bulb. The following 
way is precisely as I proceeded, resulting in the most 
admirable success. My Callas always blossom from 
December until May. Almost immediately after, the 
leaves, one by one, show signs of decay. I then place 
them in a shady location, a north window being desira¬ 
ble, and water about every two or three days for three 
weeks, and finally once a week until all the leaves 
have withered away. Then I place them on their 
sides in a totally dark place (for if exposed at all to 
the light they lose their strength by throwing up small 
unsightly leaves). I allow them to rest undisturbed 
until the middle of September, when I exchange the 
dry, exhausted soil for a mixture of equal parts of sand, 
garden mold, and well decayed cow-manure. After 
thoroughly washing the pot, and covering the bottom 
an inch deep with charcoal (to procure a good drainage 
and insure health to the roots), I fill the pot with the 
prepared soil. I then plant the bulb, breaking from 
it the small tubers, and supply with water and light as 
gradually as it was before deprived of it. The sun¬ 
light and moist soil soon awaken it from its unbroken 
slumber, and the broad glossy leaves burst from their 
confinement and unfold at an astonishing rapidity, and 
before w 7 e are. aware, our labors are rewarded by a bud 
which soon unfolds its banner of purity and loveliness. 
As soon as the bud appears, or when one is expected, 
I set the pot in a basin of hot w r ater, removing when 
it becomes cold; and if convenient to repeat it fre¬ 
quently, the plant will grow with greater luxuriance. 
The average size of my Lily leaves is eleven inches in 
length and eight inches in width. - I also use liquid 
manure nearly every time I water them, not forgetting 
to shower the leaves as.often as they become dusty. I 
would add that the small tubers, broken from the bulb 
at the time of repotting, should be treated in the same 
manner as the parent bulb. If those who have not 
been successful in the past with their Callas will 
strictly follow the above rules, 1 know that failure will 
be as unknown to them as it has been to me. 
Ivy lin. 
