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aSies’ S'loroi fiaiiiiiet hl*i 3 SHctormt BHEame jKoni|iaJUoii. 
MY PERN-CASE. 
It is no costly Wardian case, but a very common¬ 
place one made of five old window-sashes (relics of a 
remodelled house). The case stands three feet nine 
inches high, and is three feet three inches long and 
two feet five inches wide. This includes the frame¬ 
work and legs placed on casters—quite commodious, 
you see. The top part is put on with hinges for con¬ 
venience in airing the plants, and one side sash lifts 
out, for convenience in arranging the plants. The 
zinc box at the bottom is six inches deep, and has two 
good-sized holes in it for drainage. In it is placed 
first a layer of bits ot charcoal and broken pots, then 
rich earth plentifully mixed with iron filings, and 
anvil dust from the blacksmith’s shop. This was my 
fern-case as it was when I began arranging it. In 
the centre the earth is rounded up a little, and in the 
middle of the mound so formed I planted a large 
glass fruit-stand that had a piece of the bottom broken 
cff, and filled it with dirt, planted a kind of club 
moss in it, and right in the centre of the fruit-stand 
put a plain glass goblet with the bowl part down. 
The moss grows even more luxuriantly under the gob¬ 
let than anywhere else, and the bottom part of the 
goblet supports a round globe with’two gold fish in it. 
The globe comes nearly to the top' of the case, and a 
small empty spool kept under the lid in day-time sup¬ 
plies plenty of fresh air for them, and at night I re¬ 
move the globe and shut the lid down tight. 
In one comer is a miniature turreted castle, made 
of thin pieces of wood, varnished and sanded to give 
it a granite appearance. On it are glued pieces of 
lichen and some of the delicate silvery-looking Florida 
moss, which makes it look “ old, grim, and gray.” 
Near by is a rustic bridge, placed as if leading up 
to the castle. One large and several small pieces of 
broken mirror make an excellent imitation of water. 
The earth is completely covered with Lycopodium 
and “ Creeping Charlie,” which drops over the edge 
of the glass and is reflected back from the “ water.” 
At one end of the bridge is planted a Partridgeber- 
ry vine, at the other a running fem. These are 
trained one along each side of the bridge. 
A cluster of Cyperus Alternifolius and an Austra¬ 
lian Tree Fern, placed near the castle, answer for 
“ giants of the forest.” In one comer hangs a basket 
made of a delicate sea-shell hung by scarlet cords. 
Just now the shell holds a wet sponge, a living ball 
of green, made by filling the sponge with wheat, 
Which quickly germinated, and for some time it has 
been a beautiful thing; but when it is pretty no lon¬ 
ger I shall remove the sponge and try a blue Lobelia 
in its place. 
A Srnilax vine is trained up one comer and along 
one side of the framework at the top. A tiny stump 
is completely covered with a little vine that I have 
no name for. 
A Pteris Argyrea fern with its white striped leaves, 
two or three kinds of Peperomias, and the golden 
yellow leaves of the Peristrophe Aurea, give a pleas¬ 
ing variety in color, while that beautiful old stand-by, 
Maiden’s-Hair Fem, and the different kinds of ferns, 
fungis, and lichens so common to our woods, a Sword 
Fern that grows so tall it often has to be cut back, a 
running fern delicata and graceful as the Alleghany 
Yine, give sufficient variety in form. Besides these 
there are little clumps of wild violets that forget they 
are not in their own green wildwood, and put up their 
modest little faces for inspection, several Begonias, 
and a Calla Lily (dwarf). 
Whenever a fern or anything else gets so tall or 
rank as to overshadow some other beauty, I cut it 
out, press it, and use it for some other purpose; for I 
think the main beauty of a fernery is in keeping it 
just full enough to suggest tropical luxuriance, but 
not full enough to be crowded. 
Once a week I open the top and sprinkle every¬ 
thing with quite warm water, and once a month add 
a little ammonia to the water. Two or three snails 
and a little toad wander around at their own sweet 
will, seeking whom (what) they may devour, but I 
have never seen an insect of any kind. For those 
who only get into the woods—God’s temple—but once 
in a life-time, or at most but once or twice a year, 
there is nothing that pays so well on the first invest¬ 
ment as a fernery. If your purse permits an ele¬ 
gant Wardian case of walnut and plate glass, filled 
with rare tropical plants, be the happy possessor of 
one; but if less favored you may find many hours of 
delight and pleasure in one like mine, even though 
the frame be only painted pine and common window 
glass; but my fern-case I could not be without if it 
was ot even far more hum! !e structure than it is, 
for to me it is 
“A joy for ever.” 
E. G. S. 
Mt. Steeling, III. 
MY BAY-WINDOW. 
I have many times wondered if we appreciate 
the many blessings and comforts which an All-wise 
and Bountiful Heavenly Father has graciously given 
unto us; and I am of the opinion that I, with a great 
many others, do not. (You see I am so selfish as to 
bring others in also.) And among many other bless¬ 
ings, and not the least, is a love for the beautiful 
flowers, and the privilege of possessing some of them, 
and health and ability to take care of them aright. 
Well, about bay-windows, and mine in particular. 
My bay-window is a new treasure, which this winter 
has just brought about, after many years of wishing, 
hoping, and coaxing. 
I have kept plants for the last ten years, usually 
having splendid plants and flowers in summer, but 
sickly, spindling things in winter, and a blossom was 
almost a miracle. 
I knew my poor success was for want of proper air, 
sunlight, and knowledge of the needs of my plants. 
When I saw other people’s plants flourishing in 
nice bay-windows, and still other people with bay- 
windows or nice south windows, and plenty of room, 
wflio had no taste or desire for plants, sometimes I 
would almost rebel; and then would follow' a season 
of coaxing and planning. (You see we could not 
afford to spend a great deal on one, and I wished to 
be economical.) 
Well, this winter, as it was veiy mild and plea¬ 
sant, my “ John ” (who is no John at all, nor a car¬ 
penter either, but—let me whisper it—just the best 
husband) concluded he would try and build one. 
Our sitting-room has two windows facing the north 
with a box piazza in front, and one south window, 
which is in the southwest comer between the upright 
and wing. 
Of course I thought I would like my plants where 
they might be seen from the street, but, as that 
could not be, I chose that south window, and they do 
us just as much good there as they would in the 
front windows. 
It was necessary to build it very small, on account 
of a kitchen window in the wing and a bedroom 
window' in the upright, but I thought a small place 
for plants w as better than none, and I would try and 
limit my desires for plants to that place. But I don’t 
know' but it will be a difficult matter; my room is 
about five feet square. 
Well, “John” laid a good thick wall firm and 
solid, and then went to work like any old experienc¬ 
ed carpenter, for all that I could see. The sitting- 
room window is made into a door. The east side, 
which is next the kitchen, and what is left beside the 
door on the north side, also overhead, is ceiled with 
narrow ceiling, packed full with sawdust for warmth. 
The roof is a deck roof; the floor is laid double, with 
about five inches of sawdust packed in between. 
The upper floor is of ash, narrow boards, finished to 
imitate ash and walnut (I did that myself). 1 oiled 
every other board with hot boiled oil, and painted 
the others with burnt umber mixed with boiled oil. 
There are large windows on the south and west sides, 
each of four panes double-strength glass, 18x24 inch¬ 
es in size; there are fastenings on the window's, so 
they may be raised or lowered at pleasure for air. 
The woodwork is all painted with two coats of good 
white paint. 
I have shelves, supported by iron brackets, on which 
to set my plants, also hooks for hanging-baskets. 
The room is warmed by a large wood-burning 
stove, but the extra amount of room added does not 
seem to make any difference in regard to the heat. 
We were puzzled for some time to know what 
kind of a door to have between the sitting-room and 
the plants. I thought a glass door would be just the 
thing, but knew that would be very much in the w'ay, 
and so put up a roller curtain of thick painted cloth, 
light drab in color. 
I lower this curtain when I sweep, as dust is house- 
plants’ greatest enemy. 
Over this thick curtain are thin white curtains, the 
same as at the other windows, trimmed with sprays 
of pressed and w axed autumn leaves. 
In this little room I have fifty-eight plants, and 
still there’s room for more. Some of my plants are 
small, and I like small plants best for winter. My 
collection consists of calla, abutilon, rose, farfugium, 
feverfew, salvia, eupatorium, hyacinths, different va¬ 
rieties of fuchsias, begonias, petunias, cacti, coleus, 
geraniums single and double, and many others. 
I steam my plants quite often, I heat several stones 
or bricks very hot in the stove, take them out in an 
old wooden pail, set it in the room, pour on a quart 
of boiling water, and drop the curtain; the dampness 
is just what the plants like but the insects do not. 
