362 
JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
May  2,  1901. 
improved  under  cultivation,  to  such  an  extent  that  its  original 
form  is  almost  obliterated,  and  a  large  share  of  the  credit  is 
claimed  by  tradesmen.  Let  it  be  given  freely,  for  in  securing 
their  own  rewards  they  have  enriched  the  world  of  gardening.  I 
doubt  whether  a  new  introduction  in  the  eyes  of  the  majority  of 
raisers  and  importers  is  measured  so  much  by  its  beauty  or  utility 
as  by  its  value  in  a  commercial  sense,  and  it  is  quite  natural.  Novelty 
is  a  word  with  a  meaning  in  these  days.  New  things  are  eagerly 
sought  after,  and  a  large  community  is  engaged  in  securing  them. 
Perhaps  monetary  gain  does  not  prompt  them  all,  but  those  not 
influenced  by  the  business  considerations  are  in  the  minority.  Much 
has  been  gained  by  it,  for  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  if  the  only 
reward  of  hybridisers,  raisers,  and  importers  had  been  honour,  our 
gardens  would  have  been  destitute  of  many  beautiful  and  useful 
things  which  they  now  contain.  I  do  not  say  that  it  is  all  gain,  for, 
aB  I  have  already  pointed  out  in  a  previous  article,  the  anxiety  in 
part  of  the  trade  to  introduce  novelties  for  the  sake  of  the  reward  has 
led  to  the  presence  of  scores  of  synonyms,  and  the  need  of  a  general 
weeding  out. 
The  power  of  trade  has  done  great  things  in  the  distribution  ol 
plants,  which  otherwise  might  never  have  been  appreciated  to  their 
full  value,  or  known  outside  a  small  circle.  By  taking  a  little 
trouble  it  is  easy  to  find  out  the  origin  of  many  a  popular  fruit, 
flower,  or  vegetable.  More  than  one  world-wide  subject  originated 
in  small  obscure  gardens,  and  there  might  have  languished  for  ever 
in  a  state  of  comparative  uselessness  hut  for  some  enterprising 
tradesman,  who,  seeing  the  possibilities  of  the  plant,  and  counting 
on  its  value,  made  it  his  business  to  bring  it  before  the  notice  of 
his  clients.  A  community  benefits  by  it,  but  the  tradesman’s  part 
in  the  transaction  was  to  enrich  himself,  not  so  much  gardens 
generally  ;  and  here  we  have  an  example  of  the  indispensable  force 
of  business  influence.  The  whole  process  is  quite  natural,  but  let 
all  sides  be  fully  recognised.  Horticulture  generally  would  not 
benefit  by  scores  of  useful  introductions  if  the  trade  did  not  step  in 
as  a  means  of  distribution,  because  these  things  would  never  be 
known.  And  the  common  end  is  a  common  prompter.  The  amateur 
who  raises  a  new  variety  because  he  likes  to  dabble  in  that  sort  ol 
thiDg,  is  as  ready  to  dispose  of  his  stock  to  the  tradesman  as  the 
latter  is  to  buy,  and  without  these  transactions  the  world  at  large 
would  benefit  nothing. 
The  annual  report  of  the  Royal  Horticultural  Society  lies  before 
me  as  I  write,  ana  it  bears  record  to  a  steady  progress,  which  everyone 
interested  in  its  welfare  must  be  gratified  to  see.  How  much  of  the 
Society’s  success  is  due  to  the  influence  of  the  trade  is  a  matter  of 
opinion,  but  it  is  considerable.  The  interesting  shows  at  the  Drill 
Hall,  the  great  horticultural  gathering  in  the  Temple  Gardens,  the 
work  of  the  several  committees,  the  matter  for  the  report,  and  the 
indispensable  support  of  the  public — would  they  exist  without  the 
trade  ?  I  am  afraid  it  would  be  impossible.  Another  question  I  would 
ask,  Why  are  the  gatherings  of  our  flourishing  Society  so  well  and 
consistently  supported  by  the  trade  ?  Why  is  the  space  at  the  Temple 
show  all  too  small,  and  why  do  nurserymen  go  to  the  considerable 
expense  of  exhibiting  at  the  meetings,  where  no  prizes  are  offered  ? 
There  can  only  be  one  answer — because  it  pays  in  other  directions. 
I  see  nothing  unreasonable  about  admitting  these  facts.  The  Royal 
Horticultural  Society  has  existed  as  an  amateur  body,  but  whether 
the  Society  would  flourish  so  actively  without  the  trade  is  another 
matter.  Admittedly  each  is  helpful  to  the  other,  and  all  parties 
concerned  really  benefit.  Business  is  so  wrapped  up  in  most  of  our 
interests  nowadays  that  we  are  obliged  to  tolerate  its  presence  and 
admit  its  power.  Truth  to  say,  the  currents  of  the  age  make  for  wide 
specialism  in  all  things  as  population  grows  more  dense.  Only  the 
prophet  or  apostle  who  lives  upon  locusts  and  wild  honey  can  afford 
to  be  a  genuine  amateur.  Even  General  Booth  has  found  a  rigid 
system  of  finance  necessary  lor  the  preservation  of  an  organisation 
based  upon  individual  self-sacrifice.  Our  Society  is  full  of  incon¬ 
sistencies,  and  there  is  less  unreason  iu  a  man  making  money  out  of 
flowers  than  a  mere  girl  getting  money  for  what  she  calls  the  damage 
done  to  her  affections,  a  blending  ol  the  real  with  the  ideal,  v  hioh 
has  been  countenanced  by  our  law  lor  more  than  two  centuries. — H.  H. 
Awake ! 
I  have  beeu  looking  for  signs  to  show  that  dear  old  Mother  Earth 
was  bestirring  herself.  She  seems  to  me  to  have  slept  long  this 
winter;  she  certainly  is  hard  to  wake.  She  stayed  up  late  in  the  old 
century — the  days  were  mild  and  calm,  and  the  nights  free  from 
frost;  somehow  she  lost  count  of  time.  I  was  going  to  say,  stray 
blossoms  decked  her  till  nearly  or  quite  Christmastide,  but  the 
blossoms  were  more  than  stray,  and  we  might  have  mixed  Roses  and 
other  sweet  things  with  our  Yuletide  garlands.  When  people  go  to 
bed  late  they  rise  late,  but  I  would  fain  have  the  morning  hours. 
With  lengthening  days  I  search  for  signs  of  spring.  I  wish  I  could 
see  the  coveilet  move  more  certainly  ;  there  have  been  but  few 
tremors,  but  all  seems  still  again.  Here  in  the  North  we  have  this 
spring  been  long  flowerless.  Nothing  but  the  bitterest  weather  keeps 
the  Aconite  away,  and  there  are  a  few  Snowdrops,  but  really  not  more 
or  in  a  more  advanced  stage  than  they  were  a  month  ago.  But,  what 
will  you  ?  How  can  anything  thrive  in  these  bitter  frost  winds  and 
constant  snows?  The  birds  think  spring  is  coming,  for  we  hear  sweet 
notes  from  all  sides ;  they  are  full  of  faith,  and  it  is  getting  its  full 
m-ed  of  trial.  So  often  in  February  we  have  some  genial  bright  days  ; 
as  I  write  they  are  still  to  come.  Well,  often  after  a  long  waiting  time 
the  change  comes  in  a  night.  The  soft  wind  blows,  and  Old  Sol  asserts 
himself.  Given  a  few  fine  days  it  is  simply  marvellous  how  soon  the 
earth  decks  herself  out. 
Later. — Yes,  a  warm  soft  rain  has  fallen;  the  garden  smells  good; 
the  birds’  song  is  redoubled.  You  felt  the  moment  you  waked  that 
there  was  a  change ;  it  is  as  I  said,  the  night  has  done  it.  The 
children  are  all  running  out  batless,  the  men  folks  talk  of  early  Victors 
or  Ashleaf,  and  are  turning  over  their  sets  and  sorting  their  quart 
packets  of  Peas.  The  women  want  to  see  if  the  bulbs  are  moving,  or 
if  by  chance  there  is  a  bit  of  flower  anywhere.  They  look  into  the 
Rhubarb  pots,  and  question  of  the  Seakale.  it  is  marvellous,  the 
alchimy  of  sunshine  !  We  throw  off  the  weight  of  years.  I  know  the 
cares  return  again,  but  the  cares  are  not  so  black  when  the  body  is 
sun-warmed  and  the  air  bright  with  fight.  I  always  think  the 
clearest  views  are  obtainable  in  spring,  and  it  is  quite  the  best  time 
for  a  long  ramble.  Wherever  you  live  there  is  always  some  favourite 
prospect  within  reach,  and  seen  on  a  spring  day  the  clear  air  discovers 
fresh  beauties. 
There  has  been  no  “pottering”  about  the  garden  lately.  There  will 
be  no  “  pottering”  now ;  plenty  to  do,  and  such  pleasant  work;  even 
the  despised  lady  gardener  may  find  a  job.  I  do  think,  as  a  rule,  a 
woman  is  more  patient  than  a  man;  I  am  sure  she  is  more  neat- 
handed.  There  must  be  something  in  all  this  male  jealousy.  These 
men  are  frightened,  else  they  would  not  be  so  bitter.  We  do  not  all 
aspire  to  head  gardenerships ;  if  we  prove  ourselves  competent  for 
them  they  will  come;  we  only  want  to  take  our  chance  fairly  and 
honestly.  If  men  did  but  know  how  sick  sutne  of  us  are  of  the  house 
and  its  enervating  duties,  they  would  be  glad  to  give  us  a  chance  of  a 
little  fresh  air.  Do  not  we  often  hear  of  lads  to  whom  an  office  stool 
or  a  shop  counter  means  almost  death  ?  and  no  one  grudges  them  an 
outdoor  occupation.  And  yet  if  the  women  (1  mean  those  above  the 
labouring  class)  try  and  emancipate  themselves  ftorn  indoor  bondage, 
there  is  such  an  outcry  !  Oue  would  think  a  female  gardener  was 
quite  a  new  idea,  something  quite  preposterous,  and  yet  how  many  of 
us  could  tell  of  quiet  workers  (and  skilled  ones  too)  who  have  brought 
about  marvellous  changes  in  the  gardens  that  they  loved.  We  have 
quite  a  goodly  store  of  female  gardening  lore  now,  and  the  cult  is 
growing  ;  so  beware,  unkind  men.  “  Fair  field  and  no  favour,”  is  all 
we  ask,  and  Englishmen,  although  grumpy,  are  generally  fair  if  they 
will  only  look  at  a  question  from  a  right  point  of  view.  We  do  Dot 
want  to  oust  the  lords  of  creation,  we  only  want  to  work  side  by  side 
with  them.  Let  us  hope  the  good  time  is  not  far  off. — The  Missus. 
- - 
The  Movement  of  Sap  In  Plants. — It  was  long  ago  ascertained 
that  all  the  life  processes  of  a  plant  or  animal  are  conducted  in  very 
minute  cells.  The  plant  and  animal  are  composed  of  countless  million® 
of  such  cells,  each  of  which  is  at  the  same  time  a  machine  and  a 
chemical  laboratory.  The  work  done  there  requires  a  certain  amonnt 
of  moisture,  and  the  cell  has  a  wonderful  power  of  absorbing  fluid. 
Its  walls  are  so  porous  that  it  can  absorb  from  one  neighbour  and  pass 
it  along  to  the  next.  This  operation  often  leads  to  the  transportation  of 
soluble  substances,  like  sugar  and  potash,  from  one  part  of  the  tree 
to  another,  either  for  storage  or  manufacture  into  something  else.  It 
has  been  suspected  that  this  suckling  power  of  the  living  cell 
alone  explained  the  upward  movement  of  the  sap,  while  it  has  also 
been  sugge-ted  that  the  flow  is  due  merely  to  capillary  action.  But 
botanists  are  yet  a  good  deal  in  the  dark  as  to  the  mechanical  forces 
behind  the  performance.  This  much  is  clear,  however.  The  sap  is 
most  abundant  at  those  seasons  when  returning  warmth  stimulates  the 
vital  activities  of  the  cells;  and  it  is  most  ecaice  when  the  leaves 
cease  to  use  it. 
