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MY FERN WINDOW. 
It is a large bay-window, and in addition to being 
on the western side of the house, is shaded by a clump 
of firs which stand about fifteen feet from the central 
part of it. In days gone by the shutters were kept 
closed nearly all the time, as the firs shut out every¬ 
thing, except a little light, and we had plenty of that 
from a sunny south window and an unshaded west 
one. One day, while having a search in the garret 
for some odds and ends which were, or were supposed 
to be, within that garret’s sacred precincts, I came 
across a large old-fashioned mirror, and while gravely 
contemplating my fair-haired self, an idea, or rather 
several ideas, came into my head. Forgetting what 
I had been in search of, I started down-stairs, and 
after a little delay, found my brother Ernest. We sat 
down and took counsel together. The result was, 
that we brought that ancient mirror down from the 
garret, and, with prudent care, escorted it to Ernest’s 
workshop ; there the old tarnished frame was removed 
and a new one of plain pine prepared for it. This 
frame was about six inches wide, and after being oiled 
and thoroughly dried, was decorated with branches 
from the neighboring woods, as twisted, knotty, and 
mossy as we could find. These were fastened on with 
small brads, and projected in every direction, though 
not in any case more than four inches from the founda¬ 
tion of pine. Then the mirror, securely fastened in its 
new frame, was placed in the centre of the hay-win¬ 
dow, close to the glass, the shutters outside (to the 
west) remaining closed, as there was sufficient light 
from the northern and southern angles for our pur¬ 
pose. When placed in position, the mirror and frame 
exactly filled the central part of the window, except 
seven inches at the bottom. The next thing was to 
fill this space. A box, also of pine, three feet five 
inches long, eight inches wide, and eight deep, was 
made, and ornamented with small cedar branches with 
the bark on, split in two and tacked on perpendicularly 
all around it. This box was filled with leaf mould, 
mixed with a little sand, and placed on a sheff under 
the mirror. In each end was planted a German Ivy, 
in the centre a beautiful Osmunda Regalis, a Polypo- 
dium on each side, and the rest of the box filled in with 
tiny Ferns, Partridge Vines, and the most beautiful 
mosses we could find. Two similar boxes were placed 
under the side-lights of the window, and in the ends 
next the mirror another German Ivy was planted (we 
meant to have that mirror framed, you see), and the 
remainder filled with as many dainty and delicate 
Ferns and mosses as they would hold. This we con¬ 
sidered a good beginning, and the next part was this : 
My brother made what I shall call a platform, about 
six inches high, something like a low table, which was 
set on castors, and would just fit into the window. 
Then he made a box, about six inches deep, the same 
size and shape as the platform ; this box was lined 
with zinc, and had two large holes bored in the bottom 
for drainage. This, was placed on the platform, put 
into position, and a rustic fern stand, thirty inches in 
length and about eighteen in width, placed in the cen¬ 
tre of it. In this fernery, the top of which, I ought to 
mention, was even with the top of the rustic boxes, 
was a miniature arch made of beautiful mossy stones, 
and a tiny pond ; albeit, the pond was only an old 
earthern dish with small pebbles in the bottom and 
moss shading the edges. The effect was beautiful 
among the rich Ferns with which we filled the stand. 
In the centre of the window, just over the fernery, was 
suspended a large rustic hanging basket filled with 
German Ivy. On either side this central basket was 
a simple and easily constructed hanging basket, which 
may not be new to some, hut it was to me. With a 
trowel, Ernest carefully removed a flourishing Polypo¬ 
dium from its native woods, together with a good-sized 
ball of the surrounding mould. This was wrapped in 
a sheet of beautiful green moss, the kind that looks as 
if composed of hundreds of exquisite little Ferns; then 
fine wire was twisted around, just enough to hold it in 
shape, and the whole hung up by a piece of the same 
wire. When these were finished, there only remained 
the lower part of our fern window. This was finished 
by covering the bottom of the zinc pan, or box, with a 
thin layer of bits of broken crockery, stone, and char¬ 
coal, then filling it with leaf mould and sand. Under 
the boxes, all around the window, we planted a little 
forest of the Maiden Hair Fern. I must say we were 
rather doubtful of the success oi this last experiment, 
for it seemed almost too shady for any thing to grow. 
The bottom of the boxes was only seventeen inches 
from the earth in. the zinc pan, hut it was the very 
place for those Ferns. Then the remaining surface of 
the mould was covered with green moss, and a large 
pot of English Ivy placed on each side of the window, 
next the room, and it was finished. No, not quite 
finished, for something was needed for the Ivy to cling 
to. Rustic supports were nailed a little way apart, up 
each side of the window, and continued across the top 
of the side lights to enable the Ivy to join its compam 
ions around the mirror frame. 
I wish you could see that window now. The Ivies 
have rambled all about, the most beautiful being the 
German ones in the central hanging basket; they have 
twined up the cords they were intended to, thrown out 
long branches which have encircled the little moss 
baskets on each side, covered the vines which suspend 
them, reached out and embraced those around the mir¬ 
ror frame, and followed their own sweet will wherever 
it has led them. The effect is splendid, for the old 
mirror reproduces all the lovely forms. I must say a 
word about one peculiarity of the aforesaid mirror. It 
does not favor the “human face divine.” When you 
look at yourself iu one way, you see yourself as nature 
intended you to be seen ; but looking at it in another 
way, it is to he hoped others do not see you as you see 
yourself then ; to he plain, there is a decided flaw in it, 
hut in the case of Ferns and Ivy leaves, any such little 
failing is overlooked. It is very easy to take care of 
my window. I water the little moss baskets by im¬ 
mersing each one in a deep howl of warm water, and 
by standing on a chair, can give all the Ferns, Mosses, 
and most of the Ivy leaves, a good sprinkling. All 
the surplus water runs off through the holes in the 
zinc pan, which, I forgot to say, were also bored 
through the platform on which it stands, into a pan set 
underneath. Another advantage is, that I can step on 
the moss “and leave no sign,” or very little, when 
there are any decayed fronds to he removed. Some¬ 
time I shall like to tell you about my south window, 
which is in the same room, and presents quite a con¬ 
trast to the cool green of “ My Fern Window.” 
Mamie. 
CITY GARDENS. 
Having enjoyed reading the experience of so many 
correspondents in regard to the cultivation of 
flowers, I feel that it is only fair that I should add 
mine in regard to the successful cultivation of a city 
garden. 
You are aware that most of the city yards are small, 
and so shaded by high fences and brick walls that 
many persons become discouraged in their efforts to 
cultivate flowers, and are satisfied if their yards only 
look clean. Again, the soil of those yards is generally 
poor, and the opportunities of procuring manures so 
few that they do not try to get them. 
Now, those persons who live in the country, and 
can drive to the woods to get soil and leaves, or to the 
barn yard to find all the fertilizers they wish, cannot 
fully sympathise with their ciiy cousins who enjoy 
none of these privileges or advantages—yet, consider¬ 
ing all these obstacles in the way, they can he over¬ 
come by energy and perseverance. And, as I live in 
a city and have to contend with those difficulties, I 
propose to tell others like situated how they may 
overcome them. 
In the first place my beds all needed filling up, so I 
waited until the city authorities began to clean the 
streets, then I appropriated a sufficient quantity of this 
dirt to do it, having first cleaned it from all rubbish— 
this dirt I mixed with the original soil, hut finding it 
too sticky, and inclined to hake, I procured a barrel or 
two of clean white sand that can he procured of 
builders, or those who cart it around the street for 
sale, this I mixed with the soil, leaving a fair propor¬ 
tion on the top so as to aid the smallest seed in 
germinating. After the plants began to grow, I pro¬ 
cured a tight barrel, stood it in a corner out of the 
way, and each wash day had it filled with the strongest 
suds. With this water I gave the beds a good drench¬ 
ing every evening as long as it lasted, provided it had 
not rained previously. This water is one of the 
strongest and cheapest fertilizers one can procure. At 
the foot of the yard I had space for a bed four feet by 
twelve feet, which was quite low and not fit for bulbs, 
unless raised some six or eight inches, which required 
more dirt than I c< uld procure from the street in time 
for fall planting, so I saved all my coal ashes until I 
had a sufficient quantity for my purpose, then dug out 
this space about twelve inches deep, threw in the 
ashes and replaced the soil in which I planted the 
bulbs. I found this plan was a good one, the ashes 
acting as a drainage. Previous to my planting in the 
fall I procured some ground hone (ten pounds) from a 
dealer, and mixed that with the soil. Having procured 
a quantity of leaves from the street, and a barrel or 
two of fine stable manure from a cartman, I first 
spread the leaves over the bed, then threw on the 
manure, which formed a warm covering for the bulbs. 
If the leaves are placed on the beds first, they will 
not only protect the bed from freezing — but, I think, 
turn the rain, while the manure will prevent the leaves 
from being blown away, and assist in rotting them. 
In the spring when I uncover the beds, I work as 
much of these two articles in the soil as I can, the re¬ 
mainder I either burn on one of the beds, or dig up 
one of the beds quite deep, throwing it in to lay and 
rot. »Now, one can readily see at a glance that this 
was all done with less cost of money than personal 
exertion, and almost any one with ordinary health can 
do as I did. 
My plan for arranging beds is different from any I 
have seen. The space between each post is used as a 
bed, and the short walks are convenient for getting 
at the post, at the same time enable you to reach all 
parts of the beds without stepping on them. 
Hoboken, N. J. 
C. W. I. 
