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MY HOUSE PLANTS. 
[ To this Article was Awarded First Prize for Floral 
Topics.\ 
I believe I was perfectly happy the day my Plant- 
Room was finished. It is very pleasant to have some¬ 
thing exactly one’s own way, and to find one’s own 
way a very excellent way is more pleasing still. I 
looked at the large windows, the pretty, dark-tinted 
Woodwork, and the white ceiling, contrasting so well 
with the dark panels, and thought how pleasant would 
he the arranging of my Ploral treasures, and how 
many I could add to their number, and pictured the 
vines that should he wreathed around and above the 
windows; and, as I said before, was happy. I thought 
once that if I could have a bay-window for my plants 
I should be satisfied; but by the time I could have the 
window my ideas had enlarged (they had had ample 
time, for I had .waited a good many years), and I 
thought how satisfying a thing it would be to have a 
little room built out from the dining-room for the sole 
use and comfort of my beloved flowers. Our house 
stands with its front to the west, and there is an exten¬ 
sion in the center of the rear, containing dining-room 
and kitchen. This leaves a sheltered corner to the 
south and east, and in this corner was built my plant- 
room. It extends out about eight feet from the dining¬ 
room and is fourteen feet in width. One side and one end 
are principally composed of glass, and one side is open 
to the dining room. The other end, of course, joins the 
main part of the house. There is a good stone founda¬ 
tion, and a double floor, filled with sawdust. The 
roof is a common shingled one. I could have no glass 
about that, as after every snow-storm we are liable to 
quite an avalanche of snow and ice from the roofs 
above. But the windows reach to within six inches of 
the floor, and, as there are three in the side and two in 
the end, there is an abundance of light. The inside 
woodwork and the window-sashes are of butternut, 
oiled, not painted, and the rich, warm hues of this 
wood are very beautiful. The floor is of cedar, also 
well oiled. 
I shall not have room to tell of my flowers, if I say 
much more about their dwelling-place; so we will sup¬ 
pose three years to have passed, and I will give a de¬ 
scription of those I now have—at least, part of them— 
and my mode of treatment. The large stand in front 
of the window nearest the main building is filled with 
Geraniums—single, double, and sweet-scented. So 
much has been written of these favorites that I can 
do little but repeat the oft-told “small pots, plenty of 
fresh air, and not too much water. ” Those for win¬ 
ter blooming I keep on a partially shaded verandah 
through the summer, with no more water than is nec¬ 
essary to keep the leaves from wilting, and pick off 
any enterprising buds which make their appearance. 
The first of September I bring them into their winter- 
quarters and am a little more generous with their sup¬ 
ply of water. After the first of November I let them 
have their own way in regard to blooming, and give 
them a drink of liquid manure once a week. By the 
.middle of December there are usually quantities of 
buds, and on Christmas Day some of the kindest of¬ 
fer me a handful of brilliant blossoms to grace my din¬ 
ner-table. All through the rest of the winter the 
stand of Geraniums is a thing of beauty; the double 
ones adding their beautiful clusters of maroon, pink, 
and scarlet the latter part of January. I take care to 
allow no seeds to form on these plants, for they blos¬ 
som much better when the flowers are removed while 
in their prime. 
The next stand, a great favorite of mine, is made of 
an old kitchen-table. The top was taken off, and 
boards nailed across underneath the frame-work of 
the table, leaving a sink-shaped receptacle. This was 
lined with zinc, a thick layer of charcoal put in the 
bottom, and the floWer-pots placed thereon. A grand 
old Fuchsia occupies the center of this stand, and 
around it are ranged younger branches of the same 
family. These Fuchsias have the very richest soil I 
can give them. They require more water than Gerani¬ 
ums, and also a little more care; for, if left entirely to 
their own devices, they are not likely to grow sym¬ 
metrical. The other pots in this stand hold two or 
three Double Stocks, a Begonia Weltoniensis, a pink 
Bouvardia, and a Heliotrope. The Stocks were taken 
up from the garden just before the first frosts, into 
good-sized pots, filled with common garden-soil, and, 
after having been kept in the shade for a week or so, 
were brought into the full sunlight and have done ad¬ 
mirably. The Begonias I find require poorer soil 
than most house-plants, else they grow too long and 
slender for beauty. I use a large proportion of sand 
for them, and very little for the spicy Bouvardias and 
sweet-breathed Heliotropes. I like to start fresh cut¬ 
tings of the Bouvardia every second year—I root them 
in wet sand; but I think the older and stronger a Helio¬ 
trope is the better it blossoms. I cut back my Helio¬ 
tropes every summer and take out as much of the 
surface soil in. the pots as I can without disturbing the 
roots, filling up again with fresh, rich earth from the 
woods. 
The spaces between the pots in this stand are filled 
with sandy soil, and slips of German Ivy, Tradeseantia, 
and Maurandya planted therein. These ramble 
among the flower-pots and hang in long festoons from 
the old brown table, and one adventurous Maurandya 
has embraced the Fuchsia tree and nods its head from 
the topmost branches. This stand is on casters and is 
occasionally turned around, to keep the plants in per¬ 
fect shape, and is showered regularly once a week with 
lukewarm water, and when in bud or blossom the 
plants are given a weekly dose of liquid manure. 
I may as well state here how I prepare this stimulant. 
I put about two tablespoonfuls of dry hen-manure 
and a pint of charcoal in a bucket, and pour over it a 
quart of boiling water, Stirling it well with the old 
iron spoon I keep for this purpose. Then I fill up the 
bucket with a gallon of warm water and let it stand 
till cool enough to use. There is no disagreeable smell 
to this stimulant, and the plants like it wonderfully. 
They are given a spoonful or two, according to their 
size, not oftener than once a week. 
Across the window near which stands the plant- 
table above mentioned I have two shelves—one at the 
bottom and the other about half way to the top. On 
the upper shelf my Chinese Primroses open their large 
clusters of delicate blossoms from November to May. 
For constant bloom I know of no flower to equal these. 
I sdwed the seeds in sandy soil in large flower-pots in 
June, and covered with glass until the tiny green 
shoots made their appearance. Then I gave them the 
morning sun every day, and when the first rough 
leaves had begun to assert themselves I transplanted the 
little things. I must confess that I lost several by this 
operation, and another time shall not transplant quite 
so soon. In October I put the tiny plants into the pots 
in which they were to remain during the Winter, and 
in February they began to blossom. I had seventeen 
nice plants from the one packet of seed, and I think 
the principal difficulty in raising these beautiful ad¬ 
ditions to our window-gardens is in the improper sow¬ 
ing of the seed. I sprinkled mine lightly over the sur¬ 
face of the soil in the pots, and then through a fine 
sieve I sifted a very little earth over them. In re¬ 
gard to their after-treatment, they should never be 
showered or sprinkled; but the dust should be occa¬ 
sionally wiped from their leaves with a piece of velvet 
or plush. Also in the occasional doses of liquid ma¬ 
nure given to other plants pass the Primroses by; but 
give them plenty of warm water. 
My Roses are in unglazed pots, in a soil composed 
of equal parts of leaf-mold, loam, sand, and the con¬ 
tents of an old hot-bed. The bottom of the pot is pro¬ 
vided with good drainage. A layer of broken crockery 
and bits of charcoal first, then above it a handful of the 
soft, thick gray lichen that grows on rocks. They arc 
showered with clean warm water twice a week, and 
red spider, green fly, and the other rose-pests are un¬ 
known to them. 
In front of the other south window is a stand similar 
to the one that holds my Geraniums, both made of 
well-oiled pine, and containing a large number of mis¬ 
cellaneous plants—Lantanas, Begonias, Calceolarias, 
Carnations, a few Pelargoniums, a Stevia, and a 
Daphne among them. I put the Lantanas and Pelar¬ 
goniums in the garden in the summer, and start fresh 
slips for the house. If only the Pelargoniums were 
not such shy bloomers, how desirable they would be! 
Calceolarias are among my favorites. Mine are grown 
from cuttings and arc in light sandy soil. I cut them 
back every spring and keep them on a shady verandah, 
giving them very little water through the summer. I 
bring them into my plant-room in September, so that 
they may become accustomed to indoor air before the 
fires are kindled for our long winter. 
Carnations are very obliging plants, and if you will 
only give them very rich soil, not too much wrfter, and 
plenty of sunlight and fresh air, they will reward you 
with quantities of sweet-scented blossoms. 
I would part with many things before I could spare 
my beautiful Daphne, with its pearly clusters and dark 
green leaves. Mine has the same treatment usually 
given to Oleanders, and I should think every one would 
prefer a Daphne to an Oleander. 
Opposite one of the east windows is the gem of my 
collection—a Calla Lily. The stand here is a circular 
one, about two feet in diameter and raised only a few 
inches from the floor; and in its center a rustic support, 
made from the curved and twisted roots of a birch 
tree, for the large jar containing a Lily, or more proper 
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