January  2,  189G. 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
15 
which,  growing  together  in  an  almost  impenetrable  mass,  makes 
walking  through  it  practically  impossible. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  afternoon  we  began  to  retrace  our 
steps  to  Makwira’s  village.  In  coming  up  the  river  in  our  canoe 
we  noticed  growing  along  the  river  banks  some  magnificent  masses 
of  the  common  “  Bango  ”  reed,  scientifically  known  as  Phrag- 
mitis.  Their  large  white  plume-like  blossoms,  not  unlike  the 
Pampas  Grass,  looked  very  graceful  waving  above  the  dark  green 
of  the  foliage.  Of  Convolvuli  there  are  some  handsome  species, 
one  in  particular  having  flowers  of  great  substance,  pure  white  in 
colour  with  a  dark  purple  throat,  which,  if  it  was  only  introduced, 
would  certainly  prove  a  great  acquisition  to  our  greenhouse 
climbers. 
After  staying  for  another  night  in  Makwira’s  village  we 
set  off  the  following  morning  on  our  homeward  journey  ;  but 
before  wishing  him  “  Good-bye  ”  we  took  particular  notice  of  a 
crocodile’s  skin  which  was  being  stretched  out  in  his  village, 
Bwalo.  No  doubt  the  wideawake  fellow  saw  us  admiring  his 
treasure,  and  scenting  a  handsome  present  he  turned  round  to  us 
and  said,  “  Would  you  like  the  skin  ?  I  will  send  it  to  you.”  We 
thanked  him,  and  replied  that  we  should  very  much  like  to  become 
the  possessors  of  it,  and  shortly  afterwards  we  parted.  Our  return 
journey,  occupying  us  fully  two  days,  was  made  vi/i  “  Katungas,”  and 
thence  over  the  hills  to  Blantyre,  and  soon  to  Cholo, 
Makwira,  true  to  his  word,  sent  us  up  the  crocodile’s  skin. 
It  is  only  13  feet  in  length,  not  by  any  means  a  large  specimen  ; 
but  it  is  splendidly  cured.  Accompanying  the  present  was  a  letter. 
Let  us  close  this  article  by  quoting  an  extract  from  it.  “  I  send 
you  the  skin.  I  am  well.  Will  you  send  me  a  ‘Chapewa’  hat?" 
— G.  A.,  British  Central  Africa. 
FLOWER  SHOWS. 
“A  Scottish  Gardener”  must  surely  have  been  very  unfortunate 
in  his  experience  when  he  holds  that  swindling  has  bocome  so  prevalent 
at  flower  shows  that  they  ought  to  be  done  away  with  altogether.  If, 
as  I  gather  from  his  letter,  he  takes  his  facts  from  a  newspaper  article, 
he  must  remember  that  this  has  probably  heaped  together  offences 
which  have  taken  place  over  a  very  wide  area  both  of  space  and  time  ; 
and  if  he  will  make  a  calculation  as  to  how  many  innocent  flower  shows 
have  taken  place  in  the  same  area  he  will,  I  think,  be  able  to  gather 
that  the  per-centage  of  swindlers  among  exhibitors  is  still  very  small, 
notwithstanding  the  facts  accumulated  against  them.  I  have  had  a 
good  deal  to  do  with  flower  shows  in  the  last  sixteen  years,  and  1  only 
remember  one  case  of  swindling. 
That  “  the  general  public  seem  to  have  but  very  little  sympathy  with 
the  flower  show  ”  is  a  statement  which  undoubtedly  has  some  truth  in 
it.  They  have  not,  unless  other  attractions  are  added,  or  it  is  made  a 
society  function.  They  do  not  view  the  exhibits  with  the  eyes  of 
experts,  and  consequently  one  slow  walk  through  tho  tents  is  enough, 
and  this  may  not  unfrequently  be  done  in  little  more  than  half  an  hour. 
What  then  ?  Are  they  to  go  home  ?  If  so,  they  will  certainly  not  come 
back  again  next  year.  They  must,  of  course,  be  entertained  by  a  band 
and  other  attractions,  which  will  also  draw  their  friends,  and  conversation 
may  lead  them  through  the  tents  once  more  to  see  something  which 
they  are  accused  of  having  missed. 
And  what  is  “  A  Scottish  Gardener’s”  remedy  ?  Nothing  new.  Old 
readers  of  the  Journal  will  recognise  it  as  one  of  our  “  hardy  annuals.” 
It  is  “  to  do  away  with  money  prizes  altogether,  and  substitute  instead 
certificates.”  Certificates  I  I  think  I  should  have  got  a  good  many 
certificates  by  this  time  ;  but  I  cannot  think  what  I  should  have  done 
with  them  unless  they  had  been  used  for  papering  a  room,  and  that  is 
not  a  style  of  decoration  that  I  admire.  I  shall  never  forget  the  comical 
indignation  of  my  then  assistant  when  we  got  “  highly  commended  ”  for 
a  stand  of  Roses  at  some  show — I  suppose  a  National  one.  He  had 
never  seen  such  a  card  before,  and  could  not  make  out  what  it  meant. 
When  he  found  that  there  was  really  nothing  “  belonging  to  it  ”  but  the 
card  itself  it  was  very  amusing  to  see  how  he  looked  upon  it  as  an  insult 
instead  of  an  honour.  I  heard  him  muttering,  “  Highly  commended, 
indeed  1  "  under  his  breath,  not  only  on  that  day,  but  for  several  days 
afterwards  whenever  he  was  a  little  put  out. 
The  simple  answer,  of  course,  is  that  I,  and  no  doubt  many  others, 
cannot  alford  to  contend  for  “  barren  honour.”  If  we  cannot  recover 
our  expenses,  or  at  least  a  considerable  portion  of  them,  by  the  prize 
money,  we  must  give  the  whole  thing  up.  It  is  not  a  case  of  what  we 
should  like  to  do,  but  of  what  we  can  do.  To  meet  this  answer, 
“  A  Scottish  Gardener  ”  says,  “  It  does  not  cost  more  to  grow  good  vege¬ 
tables,  fruits,  or  flowers  than  to  grow  inferior  ones,”  If  by  “  good  ”  he 
means  good  enough  to  beat  others  in  severe  competition  I  must  take 
complete  exception  to  such  a  statement.  It  is  a  well-known  truth  that  it 
does  not  cost  more  to  grow  a  good  variety  of  vegetables  or  fruit  or  flowers 
(or  horses  or  cattle  or  sheep,  for  the  matter  of  that)  than  a  bad  one,  and 
this  truth,  though  well  known,  i3  often  much  neglected.  But  to  grow 
really  first-class  specimens  does  undoubtedly  cost  a  great  deal,  if  not  of 
money,  of  time  and  trouble,  and  care  and  forethought,  and  experience  ; 
and  these  things  represent  money,  and  can  only  be  repaid  by  it,  though, 
of  course,  those  who  are  rich  can  afford  to  forego  the  repayment. 
“A  Scottish  Gardener”  does  not  seem  to  think  much  of  travelling 
expenses,  but  I  can  assure  him  he  will  find  them  very  serious,  if  the 
distance  is  long  and  his  exhibits  weighty  and  numerous.  But  he  thinks 
apparently  that  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  keep  the  gardener  from 
exhibiting  away  from  home,  and  has  an  odd  idea  that  this  would  tend 
to  keep  exhibits  up  to  a  high  standard.  Travelling  expenses  have 
increased  lately,  for  the  G.E.R.  used  to  let  me  take  my  Rose  boxes 
free  of  charge  for  excess  luggage,  but  they  will  not  do  so  now.  I 
consider  that  I  did  very  well  at  the  Gloucester  N.R.S.  show  this  year, 
but  my  prizes  did  not  cover  my  expenses. 
Though  I  cannot  agree  with  “A  Scottish  Gardener’s”  aims  or 
arguments,  his  views  are  shared  by  some  others  of  his  countrymen.  It 
was  to  a  Scottish  show  that  I  was  invited  to  send  this  year,  where  the 
first  prize  for  (say)  twelve  Roses  was,  I  think,  about  half-a-crown.  I  am 
not  sure  of  the  sum  offered  or  the  class  to  which  this  heavy  prize  was 
attached,  but  the  prize  belonging  to  the  class  was,  at  all  events,  money  of 
Buch  very  small  value  as  to  make  it  clear  that  the  honour  of  winning 
was  meant  to  be  sufficient  reward.  In  this  case  it  was  I  think  a  pity 
that  the  money  was  not  omitted  altogether,  as  it  is  plain  I  could  not  go 
to  Scotland  and  back  with  my  Roses  without  disbursing  a  great  many 
half-crowns.  The  honour  may  have  been  all  right  and  very  valuable, 
but  I  afraid  a  booking  clerk  on  any  railway  would  attach  as  little  value 
to  a  “  certificate”  as  my  assistant  did  to  the  “highly  commended  ”  card. 
These  are  my  views,  simply,  that  a  great  many  of  us  cannot  afford  the 
expense  of  growing  for  exhibition,  and  especially  of  conveying  ourselves 
and  exhibits  by  rail,  unless  we  see  some  prospect  (for  we  cannot  make 
sure)  of  repaying  ourselves  by  money  prizes. — W.  R.  Raillem, 
I  do  not  intend  at  the  present  juncture  to  begin  a  discussion  on  the 
main  points  raised  by  “  A  Scottish  Gardener  ”  in  hia  indignant,  but  by 
no  means  weighty  effusion  (page  574),  because  I  feel  sure  that  the 
glaring  absurdity  of  some  of  his  propositions  will  meet  with  swift 
demolition  from  other  pens.  There  is,  however,  one  significant  passage 
in  the  article  of  the  canny  Scot  which  I  cannot  allow  to  pass 
unchallenged,  because  the  general  acceptance  of  the  principle  there 
advanced  would  speedily  lead  to  the  utter  demoralisation  of  gardeners, 
not  only  throughout  Britain,  but  throughout  the  civilised  world. 
The  sentence  I  take  such  strong  objection  to  runs  thus,  “  It  does  not 
cost  more  to  grow  good  vegetables,  fruit,  or  flowers  than  to  grow  inferior 
ones.”  This,  I  think,  will  come  as  a  startling  revelation  to  the  ablest 
and  best  of  British  cultivators,  who  know  perfectly  well  that  to  produce 
superior  examples  of  any  crop  extra  expenditure  in  the  matter  of 
material,  labour,  and  brains  are  absolutely  necessary.  I  grant  that  it  is 
quite  possible  to  have  abundance  of  the  two  first-named  essentials,  and 
yet  have  only  inferior  produce  as  the  result ;  but  when  the  three  are 
found  in  combination  they  Boon  show  the  uselessness  of  attempting  to 
make  bricks  without  straw.  Instances  innumerable  might  be  advanced 
in  support  of  my  contention  ;  I  will  be  content  with  one.  Not  long 
ago  I  paid  a  visit  to  the  haunts  of  childhood’s  days,  which  at  the 
present  time  happens  to  be  a  great  fruit-growing  centre.  In  the  old 
days  I  remember  fruit  orchards  abounded  in  the  district,  and  the  method 
of  culture  adopted  was  to  plant  the  trees,  gather  the  crops,  trim  the 
trees  into  shape  occasionally,  and  for  the  remainder  of  the  season 
leave  them  to  take  care  of  themselves,  a  proceeding  which  I  think  all 
will  agree  was  simplicity  itself,  and  which  possessed  the  one  merit  of 
costing  but  little.  This  parsimonious  system  of  culture,  however,  in 
time  leads  to  such  results  as  must  always  follow  when  the  requisite 
expenditure  of  material,  labour,  and  brains  are  withheld  ;  in  short,  in 
inferior  crops,  which  often  did  not  pay  to  send  to  the  markets.  The 
cost  of  production  was  reduced  almost  to  a  minimum,  the  value  of  the 
crop  was  nil. 
My  recent  visit,  however,  revealed  quite  a  different  state  of  affairs. 
Fields  of  corn  and  Hops  have  given  place  to  thrifty  young  fruit  planta¬ 
tions.  Decrepit  trees  and  ancient  orchards  have  almost  vanished  from  the 
scene,  as  a  few  enterprising  spirits  showed  their  neighbours  that  if  fruit 
growing  was  to  be  a  profitable  industry  it  must  be  conducted  on  scientific 
lines ;  that  the  trees  must  be  regularly  thinned,  those  bearing  heavy 
crops  sufficiently  manured  ;  that  insect  pests  must  be  coped  with,  instead 
of  as  in  the  old  days  allowing  them  to  go  unchecked  ;  that  fruit  must  in 
some  cases  be  thinned,  and  then  properly  graded  before  being  sent  to 
market, 
These  items  although  they  appear  simple  on  paper,  mean  a  great 
addition  to  the  cost  of  production  ;  but  fruit  growers  know  well  that  it 
is  the  only  way  in  which  fruit  growing  can  be  made  to  pay,  for  inferior 
rubbish  in  times  of  glut  is  grown  at  a  great  loss,  while  the  finest  samples 
command  remunerative  prices.  Truly,  the  ignorance  of  Englishmen 
must  be  deplorable  when  they  are  content  to  go  on  spending  so  much 
of  their  hard-earned  coin  in  order  to  secure  good  produce,  when  a  Scots¬ 
man  tells  them  “  it  does  not  cost  more  to  grow  good  crop*  than  to  grow 
inferior  ones.” 
Our  friends  from  over  the  Border  have  at  times  been  known  to  boast 
in  a  somewhat  overbearing  strain  of  the  lessons  they  have  taught  us 
English  gardeners  ;  indeed,  I  have  sometimes  thought  when  reading 
their  effusions  that  they  must  have  been  the  pioneers  of  all  that  is  best 
in  high  culture.  But  how  sadly  they  are  degenerating,  for  in  the  closing 
years  of  the  nineteenth  century  we  have  a  canny  (?)  Scot  advancing 
the  obsolete  doctrine  that  success  in  culture  may  be  achieved  with  as 
little  cost  as  failure.  Truly,  we  live  in  wondrous  time  s  ;  at  least,  so 
thinks— An  English  Gardener. 
A  “  Scottish  Gardener,”  in  the  Journal  of  Horticulture  for 
December  19th  (page  574),  very  justly  condemns  the  practice  at  flower 
shows  of  exhibitors  taking  prizes  with  other  people’s  produce.  At  the 
