322 
THE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
tributed throughout the globe, but the most of them are 
found on islands where the temperature is naturally 
very humid, so that a brief exposure to drought or 
strong sunlight will shrivel up the frail tissue of the 
fronds. Tasmania, New Zealand and the West Indies 
furnish most of the species, though some few are found 
in Great Britain. 
Though they require a closer atniosphere than larger- 
growing Ferns, air must not be entirely excluded, but 
when admitted it must not be dry enough to absorb 
moisture from the plants. Many of these plants grow 
well on pieces of stone or wood; others require a mix¬ 
ture of peat, sand and broken stone. Though they re¬ 
quire plenty of water, they must have good drainage 
to prevent stagnation. 
Tricliomanes radicans is a lovely British species, its 
favored home— 
“ By Killarney’s lakes and fells,” 
whence its popular name, Killarney Fern. Its prinnse 
are finely toothed or bristled, which gives rise to another 
local name, Bristly Fern. Its color is rich, dark green, 
and its whole habit extremely beautiful. It does well 
in a case or bell-glass, requiring, like all its congeners, 
abundant shade and moisture. It grows splendidly in 
a miniature rockery, a style preferred by many to an 
ordinary fernery; it certainly gives more scope to a 
fertile fancy in ornamentation. The Killarney Fern, 
Hymenophyllum Tunbridgense —the Turnbridge Fern, 
and Todea pellucida, a New Zealand Filmy Fern, form 
a charming trio in such a position. Give them rough 
stones to rest on, little crevices filled with sandy peat 
for their thread-like roots—keep them only moderately 
moist— never let the sun shine on them, except for as- 
certaing the moisture, never give any air, and you will 
have a mass of soft, yet vivid emerald green to gladden 
your eyes for many a day. 
Of course, the Fern grower will be desirous of in¬ 
creasing her stock, and here again she will appreciate 
the difference between Ferns and other classes of plants, 
for it is impossible to make slips or cuttings, the ordi¬ 
nary method of propagation. 
Ferns may be increased by division or by spores; 
either process may be confidently undertaken by ama¬ 
teurs. 
Division is best undertaken in the early spring, but 
with due care it may be done at any time. The plant 
being taken out of its pot and a little of the outside 
earth shaken off, you will find around the edge a num¬ 
ber of distinct crowns, each with separate roots, which 
may be removed from the old plant with a sharp knife. 
Plant these offsets at once, separately, in small pots, 
giving plenty of crock for drainage, and the mixture of 
sand and peat before desciibed. Give a little water, 
and put in a shady place, watering but seldom until 
they have made some progress. 
This process, of course, applies only to Ferns forming 
clusters or crowns. With those forming creeping root¬ 
stocks or rhizomes, they may be divided almost indefi¬ 
nitely, the rhizomes being cut apart, so long as each por¬ 
tion has its own allowance of roots. After dividing, 
this class requires more moisture and a spongier soil 
than the preceding. 
As for propagation from seed, that, seems the easiest 
thing in the world, to look at an old fernery, where seed¬ 
lings spring up on the benches, under the benches, be¬ 
tween the pavement, and even nod gaily from the brick 
walls and partition. A very pretty Javanese fern, As- 
plenium Belangeri, is rather remarkable for its oddness 
in germination. The spore cases appear on the vpper 
side of the fronds, instead of the lower, and, after ripen¬ 
ing, there they sprout, affording a most unwonted spec¬ 
tacle, the parent plant supporting its offspring, perfect 
reproductions of itself in minature. It reminds, one of 
Darwin’s lines on the Orchis : 
“ With blushes bright as morn fair Orchis charms, 
And lulls her infant in her fondling arms ; 
Soft plays affection round her bosom’s throne, 
And guards his life, forgetful of her own.” 
After remaining on the older plant until, I suppose, 
the little fernlet tires of leading-strings, it drops off and 
begins life on its own account. 
The Fern spores were a mystery to the old botanists; 
as the plant did not flower, the seed was supposed to be 
invisible, and capable of imparting that quality to any 
one who used it. Falstaff has reference to this, when 
he says: “ We have the receipt of Fern seed; we walk 
invisible.” Indeed, the whole family was hallowed by 
quaint fantasies and dark superstitions, which we have 
discarded with our belief in the diablerie of Halloween 
and the Feast of St. John. E. L. Taplin. 
THE TRANSPIRATION OF PLANTS. 
Of all the phenomena of plants, that of transpiration is 
perhaps the most interesting. The rich dew that im- 
pearls a summer morning with beauty, resting on leaf 
and flower and grass blade, dampening the country 
roads, and that was once thought to be evolved from 
the atmosphere, is proved by the great Dutch naturalist 
Muschenbroeck, to be the condensed perspiration of 
plants. The experiment was very simple; he covered 
with a plate of lead the whole circumference of the 
root of a white Poppy, so as to prevent the vapor of the 
earth from interfering with his experiment. The plant 
was then covered with a bell glass cemented to the lead, 
After that, each morning, when the naturalist came to visit 
the imprisoned plant, he observed that even during the 
driest night its leaves were covered with an innumerable 
quantity of those drops of water to which the name of 
dew is given, and that the sides of the glass were cov¬ 
ered with moisture. Guettard was able to decide the 
amount which vegetable transpiration produces, and 
found that a branch of a Cornel tree weighing only 5*4 
drachms, distilled each day an ounce and three drachms 
of water, double its weight, in twenty-four hours. The 
common garden Sunflower is a marked instance of the 
transpiration of plants. Wales has proved by experiment 
that a Sunflower lost by the transpiration of its leaves 
twenty ounces of water in twenty-four hours. Ruysch, 
the great Dutch anatomist, states that an Arum which 
he kept in a green-house in the botanical garden at 
