352 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER, 
April  16,  1896. 
Sheffield  Chrysanthemum  Society. 
The  usual  monthly  meeting  was  held  at  the  Society’s  rooms,  The 
Museum,  Orchard  Street,  on  Wednesday,  the  8th  inst.  The  exhibits  for 
the  evening  were  Spiraeas  for  both  professional  and  amateur  members. 
Mr.  C.  Scott  secured  the  first  prize  in  the  professional  class,  whilst 
amongst  the  exhibitors  in  the  amateur  section  Mr.  W.  H.  Hinchcliffe 
secured  first  prize  ;  Mr.  B.  Glossop  second,  and  Mr.  W.  Beeley  third 
prizes. 
An  invitation  from  W.  A.  Milner,  Esq.,  J.P.  (one  of  the  Vice- 
Presidents)  for  the  members  of  the  S.C.S.  to  visit  his  residence,  Totley 
Hall,  near  Sheffield,  on  the  18th  inst.,  to  view  his  valuable  collection  of 
Narcissi,  which  will  be  in  full  bloom  about  that  date,  was  accepted,  and 
the  Secretary  instructed  to  make  the  necessary  arrangements  for  the 
visit,  on  which  occasion  Mr.  Milner  has  generously  offered  to  provide 
tea  for  the  members  who  are  present. 
A  letter  was  read  from  Mr.  H.  J.  Jones,  Ryecroft  Nursery,  Lewisham, 
offering  to  present  the  Society  with  two  silver-gilt  and  two  silver  medals, 
to  be  awarded  at  the  next  exhibition  to  be  held  in  the  Corn  Exchange 
in  November,  which  were  accepted. 
On  this  evening  in  lieu  of  the  usual  essay,  after  the  routine  business 
had  been  attended  to,  the  meeting  devoted  the  remainder  of  the  time  to 
a  social  gathering,  when  the  following  friends  contributed  towards  the 
harmony  of  the  evening.  Messrs.  Goodison,  Copley,  Housley,  Willford, 
Jarvis,  Brewer  jun.,  and  Miss  Stanley  (the  pianist).  Mr.  John  Haigh 
presided,  and  the  member*  enjoyed  a  very  pleasant  evening. 
ROYAL  HORTICULTURAL  SOCIETY. 
April  7th. 
Scientific  Committee.— Present :  Mr.  J.  T.  Bennett-Poe  (in  the 
chair)  Mr.  Douglas,  Rev.  W.  Wilks,  and  Rev.  G.  Henslow  (Hon.  Sec.). 
Potato  Perforated  by  a  Subterranean  Stem. — With  reference  to  the 
specimen  brought  to  the  last  meeting,  it  is  said  that  the  penetration 
was  effected  by  the  secretion  of  a  solvent  substance  or  ferment.  This 
was  the  conclusion  drawn  by  M.  Prunet  ("Rev.  Gdn.  de  Bot.,”  vol.  ii ., 
p.  166,  1891).  On  the  other  hand,  G.  J.  Peirce  would  attribute  the 
penetration  to  mechanical  pressure,  and  not  to  the  action  of  a  diastatic 
ferment  (“  Bot.  Zeit.,’’  Iff.,  169). 
Bitter  and  Bergamot  Oranges  from  La  Mortola. — Mr.  Henslow 
exhibited  specimens  from  The  Marchese  Ilanbury.  The  former  was 
raised  by  him  from  a  pip  of  an  Orange  from  a  tree  at  Rome,  said  to  have 
been  planted  by  St.  Dominic  about  A.D.  1200,  which  still  exists  at  the 
monastery  of  St.  Sabina.  It  is  supposed  to  have  been  one  of  the  earliest 
trees  introduced  into  Europe.  The  Bitter  Seville  or  Bigarade  Orange, 
(Citrus  vulgaris,  Risso),  is  believed  to  have  been  the  first  kind  cultivated. 
Mr.  Henslow  observed  that  the  so-called  "  wild  Orange  ”  used  for  stocks 
in  Malta  bears  a  quite  uneatable  fruit  of  a  similar  kind.  The  Bergamot 
is  a  small  Orange  (2|  to  3  inches  in  diameter).  The  peel  is  smooth  and 
thin,  abounding  in  essential  oil  of  a  peculiar  fragrance,  strongly  sugges¬ 
tive  of  eau  de  Cologne.  It  is  cultivated  at  Reggio  in  Calabria,  and  is 
unknown  wild.  It  first  appeared  in  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth 
century. — (“  Pharmacographia,”  page  121). 
Violets.  —  Mr.  Henslow  also  showed  some  Violets  from  Mentone 
remarkable  for  their  large  size.  When  dried  they  were  1|  inch  in 
diameter.  They  are  commonly  sold  in  the  Riviera,  but  are  mostly  very 
deficient  in  scent.  They  may  be  the  source  of  the  Violet  Princess  of 
Wales,  which  is  of  French  origin. 
Fasciated  Brussels  Sprouts.  —  Mr.  Smee  sent  a  very  remarkable 
specimen.  The  stem  was  cylindrical  at  the  base,  but  widened  out  into  a 
broad  paddle-shaped  and  flattened  extremity,  covered  with  minute  buds. 
He  also  exhibited  excellent  photographs  of  the  same. 
LONDON’S  SPRING  FLOWERS. 
This  is  no  new  theme,  as  the  flowers  of  the  metropolis  have  formed 
the  subject  for  many  articles  at  various  seasons  in  the  Journal  of 
Horticulture.  It  is  a  subject,  however,  quite  unique  in  its  way,  a*  it 
never  gets  stale,  and  as  each  spring  rolls  round  there  are  those  amongst 
the  readers,  if  I  mistake  not,  who  look  with  interest  for  some  notes 
appertaining  to  the  spring  flowers  in  the  metropolitan  public  gardens. 
How  dull  and  monotonous  life  would  be  in  our  mighty  city  without  these 
peeps  at  Nature,  where  all  classes  are  at  liberty  to  emerge  for  a  space 
from  the  maddening  crowd  and  seek,  if  not  seclusion,  at  least  something 
that  is  soothing  to  the  jaded  nerves  and  overtaxed  brain  in  any  of  our 
public  playgrounds  1 
So  fully  are  the  wants  of  the  people  studied  that  no  stone  is  left 
unturned  by  the  authorities  to  provide  flowers  at  all  available  seasons, 
pleasant  walks,  broad  stretches  of  green  sward,  and  comfortable  seats  for 
the  thousands  who  daily  take  advantage  of  these  privileges.  Children 
who  know  nothing  of  the  liberty  of  free  rural  life  can  get  some  glimpse 
of  what  it  is  like  when  roaming  at  will,  or  frolicking  on  the  green  grass 
in  a  London  Park.  "Green  grass”  did  you  say  ?  Yes,  and  in  spite  of 
the  smoke-laden  atmosphere  vieing  in  verdure  with  many  of  the  richest 
country  pastures. 
The  Embankment  Gardens. 
"  Bring  your  rope  in  here  and  skip  while  I  sit  and  look  at  the 
flowers,”  were  the  words  overheard  by  the  writer  the  other  day  when 
Btrolling  along  the  Thames  Embankment.  It  was  a  little  girl  who  spoke  ; 
her  face  was  wan  and  pale,  and  her  crippled  limbs  supported  by  crutches. 
Though  an  apparently  cruel  fate  prevented  her  from  romping  and 
playing  like  the  rest  of  her  companions,  she  was  content  to  sit  and 
watch  the  bright  spring  flowers,  which  had  the  power  of  bringing  a  ray 
of  gladness  into  her  sad  young  life.  And  if  this  child,  maimed  though 
she  was,  could  find  pleasure  among  the  gems  of  the  spring,  why  should  I 
not  go  too  ?  yea,  why  not  ?  So  following  the  example  laid  down,  I 
turned  in  near  the  foot  of  Waterloo  Bridge.  The  shrubs  and  trees  were 
all  bursting  into  a  bright  green,  the  turf  looked  fresh  and  inviting,  and 
sparrows — we  do  not  despise  them  in  London — were  hopping  about  here 
and  there  in  quest  of  food. 
Hyacinths  in  the  beds  of  mixtures  blue,  white,  and  red,  had  a  gay 
appearance,  and  numerous  Daffodils  nodded  their  heads  at  me  from  the 
edges  of  the  shrubberies  as  I  passed.  Vehicles  of  all  kinds  were  rolling 
along  the  broad  Embankment,  puffing  steamers  and  grimy  barges 
ploughed  their  way  through  the  waters  of  Father  Thames,  yet  in  the 
gardens  close  by  all  seemed  quiet  and  refreshing.  One  pretty  arrange¬ 
ment  was  a  star-shaped  bed  edged  with  red  Daisies,  and  planted  with 
blue  Squills  and  yellow  Daffodils.  Passing  out  near  Charing  Cross  I 
was  struck  with  a  pretty  bank  of  mixed  Hyacinths  near  the  gate, 
certainly  a  suitable  spot  for  such  a  blaze  of  flowers.  Across  the  road, 
and  into  the  next  garden,  I  passed,  where  a  display  somewhat  similar 
presented  itself.  Beds  of  single  Tulips,  alternately  red  and  yellow, 
surrounded  the  monument  of  Sir  Bartle  Frere,  and  a  little  further  on  a 
statue  of  the  famous  William  Tyndale  seemed  to  be  ardently  gazing 
on  a  similar  arrangement.  The  booming  strike  of  Big  Ben  close  by 
reminded  me  that  there  were  other  flowers  at  hand,  and  soon  I  found 
myself  in 
Parliament  Square. 
Here  were  Hyacinths  alone,  each  variety  being  massed  in  a  large  bed 
to  itself  ;  and  how  brilliant  they  looked  in  the  morning  sun.  The  grass, 
too.  how  fresh  and  green  ;  not  a  bit  like  what  one  would  expect  to  find 
in  London,  but  the  turf  iu  Parliament  Square  is  noted  for  its  bright 
emerald  hue.  In  one  enclosure  near  the  statues  of  Lord  Beaconsfield 
and  Lord  Derby  were  beds  of  the  pretty  pink  Hyacinth  Gertrude,  Sir 
H.  Berkley  (dark  blue),  Mirandolina  (white),  Robert  Steiger  (rosy  pink), 
and  the  telling  bright  blue  of  Charles  Dickens. 
In  the  other  enclosure  the  figures  of  Lord  Palmerston  and  Sir 
Robert  Peel  seemed  to  be  ruminating  on  the  beauty  of  pure  white  alba 
maxima,  the  blush  tinted  spikes  of  Gigantea  and  others  as  they  displayed 
their  bright  hues,  and  emitted  a  rich  aroma  from  the  beds  below.  The 
time-wdrn  sacred  edifice  of  Westminster  Abbey  and  the  highly  decorated 
towers  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament  looked  on — magnificent  examples  of 
human  skill,  both  ancient  and  modern,  no  doubt — but  failed  to  lessen  in 
any  degree  the  bright  gems  of  Nature  in  the  beds.  Amid  such  surround¬ 
ings  there  was  ample  food  for  retrospection,  but,  like  Oliver  Twist,  I 
yearned  for  more,  and,  unlike  him,  was  not  denied  when  I  arrived  in 
St.  James’  Park, 
there  to  find  a  feature  not  yet  seen  in  the  shape  of  clumps  of  Daffodils 
sending  up  their  nodding  heads  from  the  grassy  banks.  After  all  the 
turf  seems  to  be  the  true  home  of  Daffodils,  and  under  such  condi¬ 
tions  one  sees  them  under  their  most  pleasing  aspect.  The  flowering 
Currant  and  double  flowered  Cherry  were  opening  their  blossoms 
in  the  shrubberies,  and  along  the  edges  were  bright  little  clumps  of 
Hyacinths  and  Tulips.  There  had  been  no  attempt  made  at  massing  the 
flowers  in  beds,  nor  was  such  necessary,  as  they  looked  much  more  in 
character  dotted  about  here  and  there  indiscriminately.  Just  a  peep  at  the 
water  as  I  crossed  the  bridge,  and  a  laugh  at  the  ducks  of  numerous 
breeds  as  they  dodged,  fought,  and  scrambled  for  the  pieces  of  bread 
thrown  to  them. 
Just  then  a  delicious  scent  came  wafted  on  the  breeze.  A  large  group 
of  Wallflowers  close  by  told  whence  it  came.  Had  it  not  been  for  this 
I  should  not  have  noticed  them.  After  pausing  for  another  long  smell  I 
passed  on  beneath  the  Elms  and  Chestnuts,  all  assuming  their  spring 
attire  and  telling  in  silent  language  that  their  winter  sleep  was 
over.  Passing  on  by  Buckingham  Palace,  which  by  the  way  looks  much 
better  for  its  recent  cleaning,  and  up  Constitution  Hill,  giving  only  a 
glance  at  the  Green  Tark  on  the  right,  I  found  myself  in 
Hyde  Park. 
This  favourite  rendezvous  of  fashion  looked  very  inviting  in  the 
bright  April  sunshine.  A  few  horses  were  perambulating  along  the 
Row,  but  there,  fashions  alter  so  and  everyone  goes  on  wheels  nowadays, 
at  least  I  thought  so  as  I  gazed  on  the  large  array  of  pneumatics,  many 
of  them  ridden  by  members  of  the  fair  sex  clad  in  a  variety  of  costume, 
both  becoming  and  otherwise.  But  I  went  to  see  the  flowers,  and 
strolled  through  the  deli  admiring  the  various  beauties  of  the  spring 
dotted  about  on  the  banks,  here,  there,  and  everywhere.  I  found  the 
principal  display,  however,  on  the  Park  Lane  side,  commencing  at  the 
Grosvenor  Gate. 
To  stand  at  one  end  and  look  at  the  mass  of  colour,  destitute  of  any 
erroneous  clashing,  yet  almost  bewildering  in  its  diversity,  was  a  spectacle 
not  to  be  easily  forgotten.  One  charming  mixture  was  formed  with 
