adies 
lorol Bnlkiiei i&ii3 ^Pictorial BHEowie ftampcmioii. 
Ufanil Jlr 
A CHAPTER FROM DOLLY’S EXPE¬ 
RIENCE. 
While sitting- one day with my friend Dolly, 
looking at some of the beautiful catalogues which 
had been sent to her from different florists, she asked 
me if she had ever told me about her early experi¬ 
ence with catalogues. As I answered in the nega¬ 
tive, and begged her to do so, she complied with my 
wishes; said Dolly: My first catalogue was quite a 
contrast to the beautiful ones in which you are so 
much interested; it might have had some more than 
a dozen leaves, without a single picture to assist the 
imagination as to how all those plants with those 
hard names would look if they were actually grow¬ 
ing ; but I studied it faithfully, and sent for a dol¬ 
lar’s worth of seeds; they arrived in due course of 
time, and, with the exception of one variety, were 
consigned to the tender mercies of the open ground, 
where they may be still; I have never seen anything 
of them since they were sown. On the paper con¬ 
taining Cineraria seed were minute directions for 
planting, or they would doubtless have also reposed 
in the bosom of Mother Earth. I was directed to fill 
pots half-full of broken charcoal, then put on a layer 
of coarse lumps of earth, and over this a layer of soil 
made very fine mixed with silver sand, then water 
with a fine rose and sprinkle on the seed with little 
or no soil over them, and keep from the direct rays 
of the sun. I obeyed orders to the letter, and soon 
had quite an array of tiny plants. These too must be 
kept from the sun through the middle of the day; so 
every morning about nine o’clock they were taken 
into the house, to remain till late in the afternoon, 
when they were put out to be refreshed by the even¬ 
ing air. They grew very well until one unlucky Sun¬ 
day in my haste to get ready for church, I forgot 
to bring them into the house, and when I came home 
in the afternoon there lay the cherished plants in a 
state of flatness beyond description. There were a few 
which had been shaded by the edges of the boxes; 
these revived so far that from three boxes I saved 
enough to fill a small one. These grew bravely for 
awhile, but one Sunday, a few weeks later, the same 
scene was enacted with variations. This time but 
three plants were left; I put these in separate pots, 
and am ashamed to say that two of these soon met a 
fate similar to that of their unfortunate companions. 
The sole survivor of this numerous family, notwith¬ 
standing its lonely situation and the persevering 
efforts of countless green flies to destroy it, seemed 
determined to become an ornament to society, when 
one day as I was holding it rather carelessly, trying 
to dislodge some of the green flies which had taken 
refuge among the buds with which it was then cover¬ 
ed, it slipped from my hand to the floor, breaking the 
large main stalk of buds from the plant. I began to 
think the fates had decreed that I should not see a 
Cineraria blossom, but I kept the poor thing until the 
side shoots bloomed, and the flowers were so pretty 
and so fragrant that I determined to try again; so I 
planted some more seeds, hoping that my past expe¬ 
rience might be of some use to me. I kept my se¬ 
cond family of plants under the shade of a grape¬ 
vine, so they escaped the fiery trials of their prede¬ 
cessors ; but, either because they were kept in too 
dark a place or from some other cause, they were 
subjected to a new infliction, which came in the 
shape of thrips. But what are thrips'? said I. I 
have had an intimate acquaintance with the green 
fly and can sympathize with you in your trials in that 
direction, but this new insect I know nothing of. 
“ Where ignorance is bliss, ’tie folly to be wise,” said 
Dolly; but if you really wish to become acquainted 
with the thrip, I do not know as I can describe it 
better than to say that it is less than the sixteenth of 
an inch in length, and about the size of the point of 
a cambric needle. They meandered around in the 
beautiful purple wool with which the under side of 
the leaves were covered; when once ensconced in their 
woolly retreat it was almost impossible to rout them 
without taking off all the wool too, and one might 
nearly as well do that as to leave it for the home of 
the thrip, for they will make it their hunting-ground 
until it is all gone, then start for a younger leaf. If I 
had been as well acquainted then with the virtue of 
tobacco-smoke as I am now, they would not have 
wandered at their own sweet will seeking what they 
might devour, and finding it too. The green flies of 
the previous summer were, in comparison to the 
thrips, as child’s play to the work of strong men. 
The poor plants looked when they were brought into 
the house in the fall as if they had seen trouble; they 
survived till one night in mid-winter when they were 
left in the window, and the next morning were stiff 
with cold ; only two lived; they bloomed enough to 
show me that they were entirely different in color 
from the one I had first. You doubtless think that 
by this time my enthusiasm was somewhat cooled; but 
I bad no idea of giving up, so behold me the follow¬ 
ing spring armed with more seeds, determined to 
succeed this time. These I kept in a cold frame where 
theydidnot see the mid-day sun, and nearly every week 
gave them a dose of tobacco-smoke, for by this time 
I had become a thorough convert to the merits of 
that medicine. By the latter part of November they 
were nearly all large, thrifty plants ; all but three of 
the smaller ones were still in the cold frame (as it 
was so much easier to smoke them there) covered 
Avith carpets at night; the Aveather had been very 
mild for that time of the year, when one night Avith- 
out a note of warning the mercury went doAvn along 
Avay beloAV the freezing point. I vvent out in the 
morning hoping that some of my plants might have 
escaped, but they had all turned to stones or to 
something as hard; by the time I had carried them 
all into the cellar I must say that if my ardor for 
raising Cinerarias Avas not someAvhat chilled, my 
hands and feet Avere, and I was inclined to think I 
might own that I was defeated; but the three small 
ones that had been brought into the house blossomed 
so beautifully and Avere such an improvement on 
those I had grown before, that I could not help 
thinking that I should keep on until my efforts were 
croAvned Avith success; so do not be surprised to hear 
that I am trying again. I am biding my time, gather¬ 
ing up my strength after my numerous defeats. As 
I saved one in the first trial, and in the second two 
survived, and the last time I had three, so perhaps if 
I have the perseverance of Bruce’s spider and try 
seven times, I may be rewarded at the last by seven 
plants; and as seven is the perfect number, so per¬ 
haps the plants AA'ill have become nearly perfect by 
that time. If eternal vigilance is the price of lib¬ 
erty, I may almost say that it is the price to be paid 
for strong, healthy Cinerarias. Meanwhile I had not 
neglected the catalogues Avliicli came to me year 
after year, but kept on trying something new every 
summer, sometimes being successful and sometimes 
failing entirely. One day I happened to see “ Glox¬ 
inia ; superb genus, stove plant, producing a profu¬ 
sion of beautiful flowers; to be groAvn in sandy peat.” 
I was so stupid that I did not knoAV Avhat a stove 
plant was, but I thought it could not be very difficult 
to manage a bulb, so decided to send for some; but 
instead of the large package of bulbs which 1 expect¬ 
ed to see, there came in its place a little insignificant 
paper of something that looked more like dust than 
like anything that would ever grow. My first impulse 
Avas to throAV it away, as it did not seem possible 
that those atoms could ever groAV to be bulbs large 
enough to blossom during my lifetime, but curiosity 
got the better of impatience ; so I put a pinch of the 
dust in a floAver-pot, and after Avaiting for Avhat 
seemed to me a reasonable length of time for it to 
come up and seeing no signs of life, I stirred up the 
earth and put in another pinch. The stirring helped 
the first seeds up in a short time, and the second 
pinch soon came crowding after, so that I was like 
the “ old Avoman Avho lived in a shoe,” I had so many 
plants that I did not know AA’hat to do with them. I 
soon put them out-doors to harden, Avliere they remain¬ 
ed exposed to all the changes of the weather until fall. 
I had been giving them aAvay through the summer to 
all aaIio wished for them; but feAV seemed to be at¬ 
tracted by them, as they presented such an uninter¬ 
esting appearance, so I still had quite a stock on 
hand; I stoAved them all around in all sorts of un¬ 
suitable places ; some in a box of A'erbenas in a cool 
room, some in the cellar, three I kept in a warm 
room; these grew very little until the days began to 
lengthen, Avhen they seemed to wake up to a sense 
of the responsibility resting on them as the. repre¬ 
sentatives of the “ superb genus,” and by the last of 
May they had groAvn to be very pretty plants. I was 
still determined to persevere in the hardening pro¬ 
cess, so put one out-of-doors about this time, intend¬ 
ing to have the others follow soon; but going to a 
greenhouse I made some enquiries about Gloxinias, 
and Avas told by the florist that they should never be 
put out-of-doors. He was surprised to hear that any 
of mine had survived such rough treatment; said he 
only kept a few as ornaments to his greenhouse in¬ 
stead of for sale, as not one person in one hundred 
would take care of them properly. Of course I Avas 
one of the ninety and nine, as I had just proved to him 
by telling Iioav I had abused mine; but I took the 
rebuke as meekly as I could, determined to become 
the one-hundredth soon. The plant that had been 
banished from the sitting-room was restored to its 
place, and in a feAV weeks they all blossomed; they 
Avere all different and all lovely. The florist had 
told me that he alloAved the plants to rest in Avinter, 
but did not tell me that they disappeared entirely; so 
as the Aveather grew cold, and the leaves on tAVO of 
