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AMATEUR GARDENING. 
The ground is white with snow, and the world 
lies in all the dreariness of mid-winter. Indoors is 
the blaze of an open fire; the embers glow with in¬ 
candescent heat, and from the consuming coals above 
leap tongues of flame that I endow with attributes 
of speech. They tell of a forest that flour¬ 
ished centuries ago, a forest that changed 
into carbon, which Nature hid away in her 
bosom for ages, until she relinquished it to 
give light and warmth to her human children. 
There are green and growing plants in the 
windows; they are a pleasant contrast to 
the snow ; many of the passers-by glance in 
at them, and their faces brighten. A hang¬ 
ing basket stretches long sprays and tend¬ 
rils of foliage toward the desk on which I 
write. I look up at it well pleased, for it 
has been admired and praised by so many 
that I have in a manner fallen in love with 
it myself. It is of drab earthen-ware, rustic 
in pattern, and holds about a gallon of 
earth. Its growth is luxuriant enough to 
blockade the window during the summer 
months, so from June until September it 
hung in the grape-arbor; then I removed 
the contents, not only root and branch, but 
also the earth in which the plants were grow 
ing. After giving the basket a thorough 
washing, both inside and out, I refilled it 
with fresh, rich earth, and started it anew. 
By each of the three long wires whereby it 
hangs suspended in mid-air climbs up a 
species ol English Ivy, more delicate in 
foliage but just as hardy as the large-leaved, 
glossy kind. In the centre an Angustifolia 
Yariegata Aurea stretches out six sturdy 
arms, covered with green and golden yel¬ 
low foliage. It pined through the summer, 
and did but little good; now it is in the 
perfection of strength and beauty. On 
one side flourishes a red-stemmed, 
green-leaved Begonia, and on the other 
a crow-foot Cactus exalts itself above the 
Lycopodium that clothes the basket with 
a carpet of living green'. Around the 
edges the variegated green and white 
Wandering Jew alternates with Sweet 
Alyssum and Kenilworth Ivy in pro¬ 
ducing a most graceful and delicate 
drapery. If I do say it myself, that 
basket would be a credit to even a pro¬ 
fessional florist. 
We belong individually to that large and rapidly 
increasing class who are blessed with a large amount 
ol taste and a limited amount of means to gratify it. 
That is, we cannot afford to spend money at random, 
and are inclined to cogitate ways and means of in¬ 
vesting the moderate sum set aside for things beau¬ 
tiful and ornamental to the very best advantage. A 
friend came in a few days ago and was admiring our 
flowers. “ I always look at your windows as I go 
with equal portions of moist sand and charcoal, and 
Lycopodium of medium size planted therein. The 
box was then measured, and a glass shade about four 
times as long as it was wide procured to sit inside of 
it. The Lycopodium stretched itself as though in¬ 
haling its native air, and set steadily to work to fill 
the shade with its green feathery Bondage. The 
whole affair did not cost over a dollar, and the effect 
is really charming; besides, it takes care of itself, 
and does not require watering oftener than once a 
month, owing to the moisture that con¬ 
denses inside the glass. 
A friend presented us a pair of plaster of 
Paris flower-pots in the form of vases. 
They were provided with stationary sau¬ 
cers, and just fitted our window. One was 
pure white and the other a delicate cream 
color. They looked so exceedingly clean 
we feared too intimate contact with earth 
would defile them, so we set common pots, 
containing healthy plants, in each, and to 
a casual observer they seemed to grow there. 
By that means we have frequent changes, 
and insert only plants that are. thrifty. A 
scarlet Verbena just now stretches its green 
arms in one, while an Oxalis Floribunda 
overflows the other. 
Earl}- in February I prepare a shallow 
wooden box, not too heavy for me to carry 
around, bore some holes for drainage, and 
fill with earth that has been thoroughly heat¬ 
ed; but as I don’t want a hot-bed I use no 
manure or fertilizer of any kind. In this box 
I make drills an inch apart, and plant seeds 
of Pansies, Candytuft, and Nemophila. On 
bright days I set the box in the sunshine in 
a room without a fire, being careful to cover 
at night or when there is danger of frost. 
By this means the flowers I allude to come 
to perfection in the early spring. Seeds of 
the same kind planted in a hot-bed do not 
germinate nearly so well. The spring re¬ 
calls me to a joyous communion with out¬ 
door nature. The beds and borders are 
ready and waiting for my willing and busy 
hands. 
I find that if when both monthly and an¬ 
nual roses have been pruned in the spring 
they are thoroughly washed with whale-oil 
soap-suds, they are not nearly so liable to 
suffer from insects. I try to plant a little 
of almost everything, but must confess that 
Pansies, Candytuft, Nemophilas, White 
Lavias, China Asters, and Verbenas are my 
favorite annuals, not to mention Mignonette 
and Sweet Alyssum, which grow like weeds 
here and there among the borders. 
It is to me a source of the most exquisite pleasure 
to brood over my seeds, as it were, and to take cog¬ 
nizance of their earliest growth, that I may protect 
them from the extremes of cold and heat. I have 
my reward in a superabundance of bloom and fra¬ 
grance. Many of my buds and blossoms go forth to 
gladden the hearts of others, who love flowers just as 
dearly as 1 do, but have not the same leisure time to 
attend to them, L. G. Pattekson. 
Crystal Fountain for the Parlor. 
be procured in brown and white, green and white, 
and red and white colors. In one window a silver- 
margined English Ivy twines around a green wire 
and wooden cross, that cost but a trifle and is really 
beautiful. 
We had a tinner make a round tin hox, something 
larger than a collar-box, with three supports to raise 
it some half an inch above the window-sill; no outlet 
for drainage. This was painted green, and filled 
by,” she said ; “ I recollect one winter you took your 
flowers down cellar and kept them there. Every 
time I passed the house it seemed to me there v r as 
something lacking.” 
And yet those windows have been made refreshing 
to the eye at very little expense. We use no pots 
for growing plants but the common red earthen-ware 
of medium size. As they are not pretty to look at, 
we have a few expanding willow pot-covers, of the 
size that costs fifteen or twenty cents each, and may 
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