September  24,  1903.  JOURNAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
Some  Typical  Gardens. 
YIIl.— The  Blind  Man’s  Allotment. 
Imagine,  if  you  can,  a  piece  of  ground,  rectangular  in 
shape,  about  twenty  square  rods  in  extent,  surrounded  by 
wire  netting,  and  differing  only  in  the  way  in  which  it  is 
cropped  from  a  number  of  others  in  the  same  field,  and 
you  have  the  example  that  I  have  selected  for  the  purpose 
of  bringing  this  series  of  sketches  to  a  conclusion.  As  I 
have  stated  in  the  headline,  it  is  not  only  an  allotment^  but 
a  blind  man’s  allotment,  and  is  cultivated  by  an  individual 
to  whom  day  is  the  same  as  night,  as  a  hard  fate  robbed 
him  many  years  ago  of  one  of  the  greatest  of  earthly 
blessings — eyesight.  Naturally,  then,  I  shall  be  forgiven 
if  I  wander  a  little  from  my  task  of  describing  the  garden 
to  discuss  the  gardener,  who  is  an  actual  living  being,  and, 
though  lowly  in  estate,  is  to  my  mind  a  striking  figure  in 
the  world  of  horticulture. 
With  his  own  lips  this  poor  blind  man  told  me  that  his 
twenty  rod  allotment  had  been  his  salvation  in  more 
respects  than  one.  Blindness  came  to  him  when  he  was 
too  old  to  learn  any  trade,  and  he  stood  in  danger  of  going 
melancholy  from  the  need  of  something  to  occupy  his  mind. 
In  the  days  when  he  enjoyed  his  eyesight  he  had  a  taste 
for  gardening,  which  fortunately  did  not  leave  him,  and  he 
found  in  his  plot  that  solace  which  he  could  not  get  else¬ 
where.  So  perfect  has  practice  made  him  in  his  various 
operations,  that  some  narrow-minded,  suspicious  persons 
have  been  heard  to  suspect  that  he  can  really  see,  and  the 
blindness  is  a  sham  ;  but  knowing  better,  as  I  do,  I  will 
let  that  pass  for  what  it  is  worth. 
A  stout  stick  is  the  man’s  constant  companion.  With 
it  he  feels  his  way  to  and  from  the  allotment,  and  by  its 
aid  he  works  about  his  various  crops.  For  more  than 
twenty  minutes  at  a  stretch  I  have  watched  him,  but 
without  revealing  my  presence,  engaged  in  such  an  intricate 
operation,  for  a  blind  man,  as  thinning  Onions.  Every 
moment  I  expected  to  see  his  foot  go  on  to  the  row  or  a 
plant  come  out  that  should  be  left  in  the  ground.  But  old 
blind  Richard  is  too  expert  at  Onion  thinning  for  that.  His 
fingers  move  among  the  plants  with  lightning-like  rapidity 
in  feeling  over  the  seedlings  to  determine  their  character, 
and  measuring  distances.  He  seems  to  have  a  special  touch 
for  weeds,  and  never  did  I  see  him  pass  one  over.  In  fact, 
to  watch  him  is  a  wonderful  illustration  of  the  capacity 
of  a  blind  man,  and  I  can  only  assume  that  with  the  loss 
of  his  eyesight  his  sense  of  touch  has  grown  more  acute. 
It  would  seem  also  that  Richard’s  sense  of  imagination 
has  also  developed,  for  on  several  occasions  after  making 
my  presence  known  to  him  he  has  invited  me  to  walk 
round  the  plot  with  him,  while  he  has  discussed  the  various 
crops,  just  as  any  person  might  who  was  endowed  with  all 
his  faculties. 
“  There’s  a  row  of  Peas,  not  looking  so  bad,  are  they  ? 
What  do  you  think  of  those  Beans  1  Onions  are  doing 
well,  aren’t  they  1  ”  These  are  a  sample  of  Richard’s 
remarks  ;  while  he  has  stopped  before  some  crop  that  did 
not  look  so  well  as  it  might,  and  remarked  dolefully  on  its 
appearance.  As  he  feels  his  way  along  the  path  that  runs 
the  whole  length  of  the  allotment,  Richard  has  no  guide 
but  his  own  memory  and  imagination  to  aid  him  in  the 
location  of  the  various  crops  ;  yet  I  never  knew  him  to 
make  a  mistake.  He  has  an  “  eye  ”  for  beauty,  too,  for  at 
the  top  end  of  the  plot  he  has  a  bed  of  simple  garden 
flowers,  which  he  genuinely  admires,  and  were  not  the  sight 
so  pitiable  it  would  be  amusing  to  see  a  blind  man'  turn  up 
a  Carnation  or  some  other  flower  and  remark  upon  its  cha¬ 
racter  and  form. 
“  Now,  Richard,”  I  once  remarked,  “  you  can’t  really  see 
all  this,  then  how  does  it  appear  to  you  1  ” 
“  No,  I  can’t  see  it  with  my  eyes,”  answered  the  man,  a 
tear  trickling  down  his  furrowed  cheek,  “  and  yet  in  a  way 
I  can.  My  whole  plot  is  in  front  of  me,  almost  as  clearly 
as  if  I  could  really  see  it,  and  I  know  as  well  as  could  be 
where  every  plant  is,  and  how  it  is  doing.  I  don’t  know 
how  it  is,  except  that  I  go  over  the  ground  a  goodish  many 
times.” 
This  is  quite  true,  and  it  is  a  touching  sight  to  watch 
the  man  when  engaged  in  the  work  of  planting  or  sowing. 
He  takes  the  line  of  wire  netting  at  the  end  of  the  plot 
as  his  starting  point,  and  then,  by  means  of  lines  and 
numerous  measuring  pegs,  he  sets  out  the  rows,  going  over 
the  ground  time  after  time,  before  he  is  satisfied  that  every¬ 
thing  is  correct.  I  may  say,  however,  that  so  accurate  is 
his  judgment  that  from  one  end  of  the  plot  to  the  other 
every  row  of  crop  is  parallel  to  its  neighbour,  perfectly 
straight,  and  quite  square  with  the  shape  of  the  ground. 
This  speaks  volumes  for  a  man  who  cannot  see  his  hand 
before  him. 
Nor  is  blind  Richard  only  an  ordinary  everyday  sort  of 
allotment  gardener,  for  he  is  a  leading  light  in  the  local 
gardening  society,  and  secures  a  fair  share  of  prizes  at  the 
monthly  meetings  and  the  annual  show.  He  is  close  to  the 
top  of  the  list  of  prizewinners  every  season  for  the  cleanest 
and  best  cropped  allotment  in  the  parish,  and  without 
any  special  favours  at  the  hands  of  the  judges,  for 
Richard  would  not  care  to  win  on  those  terms,  but  prefers 
to  start  level  with  his  neighbours  and  trust  to  his  own 
gardening  skill  to  bring  him  out  somewhere  in  the  front 
rank.  One  thing  that  Richard  has  at  his  disposal  is  time, 
for  his  blindness  prevents  him  following  any  occupation, 
and  it  may  safely  be  said  that  his  allotment  is  his  hobby, 
companion,  and  friend  ;  in  short,  it  forms  the  greater  part 
of  his  life,  and  it  is  a  standing  joke  amongst  the  rest  of  the 
plot  holders  that  there  is  no  fear  of  birds  of  any  kind  doing 
much  damage  to  the  crops,  because  Richard  is  always 
there. 
In  his  gardening  operations  the  blind  man  is  not  without 
friends,  one  of  whom  presented  him  with  the  wire  netting 
to  surround  his  plot,  because  the  rabbits  were  such  a  plague 
to  him.  Another  helps  him  with  manure,  a  third  with 
seeds,  and  there  are  several  persons  in  the  village  who  buy 
Richard’s  produce  when  he  has  any  to  dispose  of ;  so  that, 
as  he  puts  it  himself,  “  he  manages  to  grub  along  one  way 
or  another,  and  keeps  outside  the  workhouse.” 
Such  is'my  concluding  type  of  garden  and  gardener,  and 
if  the  presentation  of  it  does  nothing  more,  it  gives  an 
illustration  of  the  subtle  power  of  the  gentle  art  of  horti¬ 
culture,  which  can  bring  a  ray  of  light  and  solace  to  a  poor 
afiiicted  creature  whose  life,  hard  as  it  must  be  now,  would 
otherwise  be  all  darkness. — A  British  Rustic. 
[This  is  the  concluding  article  under  this  heading. — Ed.] 
Retarded  Lily  of  the  Valley. 
It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  originator  of  the  system  of 
retarding  the  various  bulbs,  roots,  and  plants  conferred  an 
inestimable  boon  both  on  the  flower-loving  public,  and  on  those 
made  responsible  for  a  winter  and  .spring  display  for  decorative 
and  other  purposes.  It  is  only  too  clearly  remembered  Avhat 
futile  attempts  have  been  made  with  home-grown  and  purchased 
roots  with  a  view  to  force  them  into  early  growth  in  past  times. 
Those  so  grown,  too.  Were  bereft  of  the  natural  foil  which  their 
own  foliage  supply,  and  Valley  Lilies  are  not  much  without 
foliage. 
The  forcing  of  these  ever-favoured  flowers  now  becomes  a  very 
simple  matter.  A  warm  greenhouse  will,  in  the  space  of  froni 
two  to  tliree  weeks,  afford  a  display  of  these  delightful  flowers  in 
numbers  and  effect  consi.stent  with  the  extent  of  purchase. 
That  they  are  more  expensive  to  purchase  is  a  fact  that  justifies 
the  thought,  for  the  cost  of  upkeep  and  the  investment  of  retard¬ 
ing  plant  must  be  borne  by  those  for  whom  it  is  provided.  The 
certainty  of  result,  however,  together  with  the  production  of 
such  finely  developed  leaves  and  flower  spikes,  makes  the  cost 
appear  much  less,  and  except  for  late  spring  use  I  should  neither 
adopt  nor  advise  the  purchase  of  any  but  retarded  roots.  Those 
Journal  readers  who  have  refrained  from  purchase  of  these  re¬ 
tarded  Lilies  have  no  idea  what  a  welcome  change  over  and  above 
the  natural  root  is  thus  effected. 
The  point  so  much  in  their  favour  is  simplicity  of  culture,  and 
this  is  one  that  should  appeal  to  the  amateur  and  gardener  not 
well  provisioned  with  forcing  houses  and  pits.  Forcing,  as  this 
is  usually  under.stood,  is  not  at  all  necessary,  because  a  greenhouse 
temperature  will  bring  them  on — more  slowly,  of  course,  than  a 
warmer  house  will  do. 
Another  point  of  value  following  this  cooler  conditioned  cul¬ 
ture  is  that  they  last  so  much  longer  either  for  room  adornment 
or  the  smaller  .stages  of  the  conservatory  than  the  hard-forced 
pot.  The  crowns  are  so  w'ell  selected  that  rarely  does  there 
appear  a  flowerless  growth.  The  investment,  therefore,  combines 
a  profitable  as  well  as  a  plea.surable  aspect  that  cannot  afford 
long  to  remain  unrealised  and  untried  by  every  class  of  cultivator. 
— W.  Stuugnell. 
“Sympathy”  ix  Plants. — A  week  ago  we  observed  in  Wm. 
Paul’s  nursery  a  batch  of  Populus  argentea  growing  next  to  the 
golden  Canadian  variety.  The  former  were  all  tinged  with 
yellow. 
