SEPTEMBER I, 1962. 
them and placing them in a frame or under 
a handlight, giving them water if the soil gets 
dry. When two years old the seedlings may 
be transplanted into beds as though they 
were Onions. Of course they are quite 
hardy, and will not therefore suffer during 
‘severe frosts. 7? 
The cultivation of Daffodils generally 
presents no difficulties. All the sorts here 
named are easily kept from year to year. 
If grown in beds or borders they should be 
lifted every second year or so, and even when 
lifted every year to make room for summer 
flowers, they do not suffer if treated with 
proper care. At Kew they are perforce 
lifted annually, even before the leaves have . 
withered ; and to-enable the bulbs to ripen 
they are laid by the heels in cinder ashes. in 
a sunny place, where the leaves soon turn . 
yelloy and wither. The bulbs are then 
cleaned, sorted and stored in hampers in a: 
THE AUSTRALIAN GARDENER. 
ti 
with the Great Trumpets, nor the Poet’s 
Narcissi with the Star Narcissi. In arranging 
make the breaks large and bold, scattering 
the bulbs over the ground broadcast with the 
hand, and dibbling into the ground where 
they fall. Avoid symmetrical lines or formal 
circles as far as possible, as these are never 
found in nature. 
To plant in grass take an iron crowbar or 
a stout wooden dibbler (like a potato dibbler) 
with a strong tread; make the hole in the 
ground about six or seven inches deep, and 
half fill with a good mixture of prepared 
soil consisting of two-thirds loam and one- 
third old leaf soil; into this press the bulb, 
and cover up the hole with some compost ; 
this will give the bulbs a fair start, and 
success is sure to follow. In planting under 
trees, avoid places where the drip from the 
branches is greatest, also where the main 
roots come close to the surface. 
~ ‘ & 
= ~ ‘Peter 
Sulphur white. 
cool shed until they can be replaced in the 
_ ground again in October. Bulbs grown in 
clumps in borders may remain in the soil 
till the leaves wither, when they should be 
lifted with a fork, the clusters broken into 
single bulbs, and then replanted again. The 
top of the bulb should be three inches below 
the surface of the Soil. 
The sorts that do best in grass are 
“Countess of Annesley,” “Golden Spur,” 
“Poeticus,” ‘‘Spurius,” —_ “* Moschatus,” 
“Tenby,” and “Obyallaris.” ‘These all 
spread naturally, and, as a rule, take care of 
themselves. Many other sorts may be 
planted in grass, but as they will not all con- 
tinue to flower year after year they require to 
be renewed. ‘To produce the best effect the 
three groups should be kept separate; thus the 
Star or Saucer Narcissi should not be mixed 
Barr.” 
The periantha shade purer in whiteness than the trumpet. 
From “The Australian Agriculturist.” 
The budding Daffodil worshipper in the 
neighbourhood of London should pay a visit 
to the great Daffodil nursery of Messrs. P. 
Barr & Sons at Long Ditton, where, in April 
he will find one of the most magnificent 
flower displays to be seen any where round 
London. Here is a description of this 
nursery, written by one who saw it last 
year : : 
“As you catch the first glimpse of the 
grounds, that seem to stretch for miles into 
the distance, you almost gasp. You had not 
realised that there were so many Daffodils 
in the world and here they are, in one 
corner of suburban London, flowing like a 
stream of gold, down, down, down, to who 
knows where? Occasionally a great island of 
crimson, and flame-colour, and rose-pink, and 
creamy-white interrupts this stream. These 
islands are the early Tulips. There, under 
the shelter of a high bank, lies a square as 
of blue velvet ; the Grape-Hyacinths are in 
full bloom. Then a stretch of cool green 
Tulip foliage ; beyond, bed after bed of 
Polyanthus, glowing like jewels. And after 
that, the Daffodils. Iam under orders not togo 
into dithyrambics, nor to quote Wordsworth. 
These are cruel orders. Perhaps the next 
best thing is to: quote Mr. Barr, jun., the 
guide through the Daffodils. 
“How many bulbs are there in the ground 
here?” you ask, wondering if figures can 
express the prose aspect of these waves and 
billows of innocent gold. “TI could hardly 
tell,” says Mr. Barr; ‘“ at all events, some 
millions. There are 20,000 bulbs in this 
bed!” And ‘‘this bed” is but a drop in the 
Daffodil stream! Turn your attention to the 
individual flower. You never saw such 
Daffodils. These before you, in the 
20,000 bed, are monsters for size, and 
marvels for loveliness of tint. ‘That is 
‘Emperor,’” Mr. Barr tells you, “and is one 
of the finest of the Trumpets. 
We wander onto another little bed of 
scores of thousands. This time the splendid 
yellows are toned down, the gold of the 
trumpet is a little paler, the tints of the 
perianth are shaded from pale gold to silver. 
“This is a new Bicolor named ‘ Victoria,’ 
and only came into the market in Jubilee 
year. Hence its name.” ‘There is a dainty 
beauty, “Madame de Graaf,” a kind of 
dream-Daffodil, in shades of velvety gold and 
silver, a tiny, delicate cup of almost trans- 
parently clear yellow, called “Queen of 
Spain”; then, again, a splendid flower of 
various shades of gold, named “P, R. Barr” 
and score upon score of others, each love~ 
lier than all the rest. It is no use trying to 
picture up in mere words the perfect form of 
the silvery white “‘Swan’s Neck” Daffodil, or 
“Barri Conspicua,” with its cup brimming 
over with burnished gold; the fragrance of 
‘“Odcrus Rugulosus,” three twinkling stars 
growing on one stalk. The number of 
names becomes confusing, and you clutch, 
with somewhat of relief, at the three pretty 
double Daffodils which the voice of the 
people (in prehistoric times, of course—for 
we would never have the genius of in- 
venting names of such classic simpli- 
city) dubbed respectively “Butter and 
Eggs,” “Eggs and Bacon,” and “Codlins 
and Cream.” 
“Are there still single bulbs which, for 
their cost, remind you of the times when 
fortunes were paid for a rare bulb?” “ Not 
exactly. We have a Daffodil, ‘Monarch,’ a 
large golden-yellow trumpet, which we sell 
at £15 15s. a bulb. Who buys such? Why, 
enthusiasts. The cheapest Daffodil is 
‘Princeps,’ a fine early Irish flower; it sells 
at £1 ros. the thousand.” . 
The show of Daffodils it may be noted, 
begins when, early in’ February, two small 
“Trumpets” begin to blow, and goes on till, 
in the middle of May, the “ Pheasant’s Eye” 
twinkles upon the early summer flowers. — It 
1s a pageant of great beauty all the time, but 
most beautiful at the end of April, when 
more shades of yellow than our philosophy 
dreams of are sported. by the Daffodils — 
Boys' Own Paper, 
