172 
JOtfMAL  Ot^  HORTWtiLftJRE  ANt)  COfTAt^k  (^ARDMkTt  Angiist  So.  i83g. 
As  a  rule  epicurean  taste#  are  neither  catered  for  nor  encouraged 
by  bothy  cuisine.  That  there  is  room  for  improvement  by  the 
establishment  of  a  better  tystem  than  prevails  in  many  gardens  is 
obvious,  for  in  one  place,  where  we  were  rather  a  numerous  family 
and  each  one  ordered  in  his  weekly  dabs  of  provisions,  the  result 
was  general  discomfort  with  unnecessary  expense.  We  were,  I 
know,  even  with  fairly  good  pay,  always  poor,  and  tome  of  us 
racged  to  boot.  It  is  a  matter  in  which  those  most  interested  are 
diflBdent  of  altering,  and  I  think  if  a  system  were  arranged,  where 
practicable,  on  the  same  lines  that  many  business  houses  adopt,  the 
advantages  would  be  great.  In  many  gardens,  of  course,  a  part  of 
this  business  of  bothy  life  devolves  on  “  the  missus,”  who  cooks 
the  young  lions’  food  to  the  best  of  her  ability,  but  the  be»t  in 
some  cases  does  not  equal  what  some  of  our  clever  boys  can 
accomplish,  and  her  powers  are  taxed  in  reproducing  home  di»hes 
quite  foreign  to  the  local  cookery.  In  one  case  that  substantial 
luxury  a  Yorkshire  pudding  was  asked  for,  and  “  the  missus  ” 
‘‘  knew  nothing  about  Yarkshire  and  their  puddens.  However,  tell 
me  what  you  want,  and  - .”  “Oh!  just  flour,  you  know,  and 
water  ;  stir  it  up,  you  know.  Couldn’t  eat  it,  missus  ;  too  hot.” 
At  night  a  wag  nailed  it  on  the  outside  of  the  bothy  door  to  greet 
the  missus  in  the  morning,  who  speedily  brought  down  the  gaffer 
in  spite  of  the  assurance  that  it  was  only  put  up  to  ripen  in  the 
sun.  But,  all  in  all,  however  accomplished,  there  is  a  piquancy 
about  the  bothy  cookery  with  all  its  shortcomings,  and  invariably 
good  digestion  waits  upon  the  appetite  ;  although  it  is  a  matter  of 
vitality,  it  is  not  a  matter  of  vital  importance  ;  still  I  think  in  the 
average  bothy  there  i#  room  for  improvement. 
The  foreman  should  feel  and  accept  the  responsibility  attached 
to  him  as  head  of  the  bothy,  insisting  upon  that  order  and  regu¬ 
larity  being  observed  which  is  conducive  to  the  comfort  of  all. 
In  many  instances  his  duties  as  foreman  during  working  hours  are 
to  some  extent  nominal,  and  perhaps  it  is  only  during  the  occasional 
absence  of  the  chief  his  ruling  powers  acquire  full  play.  However, 
under  any  circumstances  the  common  welfare  of  the  little  kingdom 
of  botbydom  should  be  his  care.  Now  that  he  has  reached  the  last 
stage  of  his  probation  he  is  a  personage  of  some  importance  to  the 
young  recruits.  To  him  they  will  look,  from  him  they  should 
receive  sympathy  and  encouragement,  and  his  status  here  gives 
him  a  splendid  opportunity  of  showing  by  a  dignified,  courteous, 
and  manly  demeanour  the  authority  he  will  fully  exercise  hereafter. 
Granted  that  he  feels  the  power  he  undoubtedly  possesses  to  shape 
the  more  plastic  character  of  youthful  minds,  it  neither  can  nor 
will  be  ignored.  I  have  a  vivid  remembrance  of  one  whose  chief 
desire  seemed  to  be  that  of  endeavouring  to  crush  out  all  the 
honoured  customs  of  home  life  and  moral  duties.  It  should  not  be 
so,  nor  should  the  foreman’s  position  be  one  of  neutrality.  He  is, 
for  the  time  being,  his  brother’s  keeper. 
A  fine,  free,  and  happy  life  is  the  bothy  term  where  its  inmates 
dwell  together  in  unity. •.  Among  the  varied,  tastes,  dispositions,  and 
individual  accomplishments  there  is  a  common  fund  upon  which  all 
may  draw  to  their  mutual  benefit.  Yet  how  many  bright  lads  have 
entered  upon  it  ignoring,  even  despising,  the  voluntary  curriculum 
that  is  offered  to  them,  passing  through  this  stage  in  a  kind  of 
butterfly  existence  to  eventually  become  mere  chrysalids  in  the 
field  of  gardening  ?  Some  there  are — too  many,  indeed — who 
fritter  away  their  own  time  ;  who,  so  far  as  bothy  life  is  concerned, 
“  live  without  any  design  at  all,  and  pass  .  .  .  like  straws  upon 
a  river  ;  they  do  not  go,  they  are  carried.”  So  in  after  life  there 
is  much  wailing,  much  miscalling  of  their  profession,  and  lamenting 
over  ill-luck  which  has  pursued  them  when  they  have  themselves 
ohasi  d  this  ill-luck  to  a  purpose. 
Two  eminent  American  writers  have  ably  defined  this  “luck” 
so  many  apply  as  a  salve  to  a  sore  which  it  rather  aggravates  than 
soothes.  Emerson  says,  “  Good  luck  is  another  name  for  tenacity 
of  purpose.”  Thayer  speaks  even  more  strongly,  saying,  “If 
chance  or  chaos  ruled  the  hour  there  might  be  a  place  for  luck 
somewhere  in  the  universe,  as  it  ii  there  is  no  nook  or  corner  for 
it.”  “  No  nook  or  corner  for  it,”  neither  in  the  bothy  nor  in  the 
more  extended  field  of  gardening.  The  more  experience  I  have 
of  life  the  more  I  am  persuaded  of  the  truth  of  this  moral  and 
the  force  it  has  in  application  to  our  theme.  This  is  tb©  time — 
the  time  to  acquire  knowledge,  the  value  of  which  is  not  in 
simply  knowing,  but  in  the  practical  application  of  it  to  life 
and  duty. 
Having  expressed  some  thoughts  upon  the  educational  side  of 
bothy  life  in  “  Bothiana,”  it  would  be  superfluous  to  repeat  them. 
From  a  superficial  view  it  is,  doubtless,  a  matter  of  surprise  to  find 
boys  of  apparently  mediocre  attainments  eventually  gaining  honours 
that  specially  favoured  ones  have  missed,  but  “Honour  and  fame  from 
no  condition  rise  ;  act  well  your  part — there  all  the  honour  lies.” 
Tenacity  of  purpose  tell#  its  own  tale  in  the  end.  It  may  be  that 
our*  brightest  lads  have  too  many  irons  in  the  fire— too  many 
purposes  enter  into  their  lives,  and  they  prove  to  be  so  many  leaks 
drawing  off  from  the  chief  one.  True,  all  cannot  take  the  highest 
rank,  and  only  the  comparative  few  attain  it,  or  are,  perhaps,  fitted 
to  attain  it.  In  the  old  Fiench  proverb,  “  A  man  may  shine  in  the 
second  rank  who  would  be  eclipsed  in  the  first,”  there  is,  I  think,  full 
compensation  for  those  who  capably  fill  a  position  in  which  they 
have  some  vague  feeling  of  being  superior  to  it,  but  this  saperiority 
means  safety. — An  Old  Boy. 
(To  be  continued.) 
ARISTOLOCHIA  GIGAS. 
This  is  known  in  common  parlance  as  the  Gigantic  Birthwort,  and 
is  a  plant  that  is  remarkable  for  its  large  and  very  curious  flowers, 
especially  whilst  in  their  bud  state.  Its  native  habitat  is  Guatemala, 
whence  it  came  to  England  about  forty  years  ago.  The  Royal  Horticul¬ 
tural  Society’s  Gardens  at  Chiswick,  I  believe,  became  the  possessor  of 
the  first  specimen  in  this  country.  After  a  time  it  disappeared,  and  was 
lost  until  its  reintroduction — comparatively  recently — in  the  Royal 
Botanic  Gardens  at  Kew. 
It  is  now  in  a  flourishing  condition,  and  blooming  profusely  in  the 
Victoria  regia  house  in  the  SheflSeld  Botanic  Gardens.  Mr.  William 
Harrow,  the  curator,  a  few  years  ago  obtained  a  cutting  of  this  plant 
which  he  succeeded  in  growing,  and  from  that  time  he  has  successfully 
cultivated'  it,  much  to  the  interest  and  astonishment  of  the  numerous 
visitors  who  are  attracted  by  its  bird-like  flower  buds.  They  bear  a 
remarkable  resemblance  to  a  duck  with  a  large  thick  bill,  somewhat 
after  the  style  of  a  pelican,  and  hang  dovim  from  the  plant,  which  is 
trained  under  the  glass  roof  of  the  house,  by  a  cord-like  stem,  by  what 
would  be  the  mouth  of  the  duck. 
A  very  long,  narrow,  ribbon-like  appendage  hangs  from  the  tail  of 
each  bud  and  flower.  The  buds  have  a  seam  down  the  middle  of  the 
breast,  which  opens  when  they  are  at  maturity,  and  gradually  expand 
until  the  flower  is  perfect.  They  are  only  of  short  duration,  opening 
generally  in  the  morning,  and  commencing  to  shrink  up  the  following 
night.  When  they  first  open,  a  strong  foetid  odour  is  emitted  that  is 
very  attractive  to  the  flies  in  search  of  a  larder  or  a  nursery  in  which 
to  deposit  their  eggs.  The  flowers  are  heart-shaped,  and  have  an  oval 
opening  near  the  top,  which  is  the  entrance  to  the  bird’s  neck  ;  this 
portion  is  of  a  deep  rich  chocolate  colour  that  gradually  tones  down  as 
it  spreads  over  the  remainder  of  che  flower  until  it  assumes  a  marbled 
and  mottled  appearance.  The  markings  are  lighter  as  they  reach  the 
margin  of  the  disk.  The  ground  colour  of  the  flowers  is  a  pale  cream 
tint. 
The  mature  buds  are  about  the  size  of  a  wild  duck  before  they  open 
out.  One  of  the  largest  flowers  produced  last  year  measured  57  inches 
long  and  23^  inches  wide. 
This  plant  has  just  produced  one  even  larger  still,  being  64  inches 
long  and  24  inches  wide.  The  long  caudal  appendages  account  for  the 
great  length  of  the  flowers.  The  long  tails  to  the  flowers  are  doubtless 
of  service  in  the  economy  of  the  plant’s  existence  ;  hanging  down  amongst 
the  vegetation  beneath  the  parent  plant,  they  probably  serve  a#  ropes  or 
ladders  by  which  beetles  and  other  insects  climb  up  for  the  purposes 
previously  alluded  to.  From  a  casual  inspection,  assuming  that  they 
serve  as  pathways  to  the  nectary  of  the  flowers,  it  would  not  appear  that 
winged  insects  are  the  agency  by  which  fertilisation  is  effected,  at  least 
not  those  insects  that  habitually  use  their  wiugs.  To  arrive  at  a  correct 
solution  of  the  problem  the  plant  should  be  studied  in  its  native  habitat 
in  conjunction  with  the  native  insects,  and  not  in  a  collection  of  exotics 
such  as  we  have  in  our  stoves  and  greenhouses. 
Formerly  the  Aristolochia  was  used  medicinally  in  cases  of  difficult 
parturition,  hence  its  common  or  trivial  name,  Birthwort. — J.  H.  S. 
[The  illustration  (fig.  37),  reproduced  from  an  excellent  photograph 
by  Mr.  Bernard  Haigh,  of  Sheffield,  will  give  an  idea  of  the  effectiveness 
of  this  plant,! 
FLORAL  FACTS  AND  FANCIES.— 21. 
Some  of  the  old  botanists  tell  us  that  the  Enchanter's  Night¬ 
shade  (Circsea  lutetiana)  acquired  its  repute  as  a  naystic  plant, 
because  it  was  selected  to  represent  the  Eastern  Mandrake  in  com¬ 
pounding  magical  potions.  But  it  seems  well-nigh  impossible  that 
any  resemblance  could  have  been  fancied  between  Atropa  Man- 
dragora  and  our  pretty  native  plant,  with  its  spike  of  white  or 
pinkish  flowers  and  little  burry  fruits.  True  is  it  we  find  it 
preferring  shady  places,  hiding  beneath  a  thick  hedgerow,  in  the 
heart  of  a  wood,  or  amongst  the  growth  of  a  neglected  churchyard. 
Perhaps  that  may  have  been  the  reason  why  it  became  a  symbol  of 
