their own natural beauty with little or no trouble," said Alfred Newton, "which would cost you much pains to cultivate as 'florists' flowers;' these tulips, for instance, are more hardy and less liable to injury from insects than many others, grown merely for their own sakes, and not as prize blossoms."

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"Do you hold with the theory respecting the tulip and other bulbs exuding a poison injurious to their re-growth in the same bed," said Mr. Warden, or do you believe with Liebig that this proceeds rather from their exhausting the gaseous matter from the earth requisite to their reproduction on the same spot?"

"I know not which theory may be the right one," answered Alfred Newton, "but as a practical gardener, I only know I find the Dutch method a good one, that of alternating my beds of bulbs in successive years, thus:first year, hyacinths; second, tulips; third, polyanthusnarcissus; fourth, crocuses; fifth, returning to hyacinths, and so on."

"You generally plant your bulbs in the autumn for flowering in spring, do you not?" enquired Mr. Warden.

"Yes," replied Alfred Newton, "I take them up when their leaves begin to wither, and keep them out of the ground a month or two, in complete repose, before they are replanted; but, with the commoner ones, such as snowdrops, crocuses, &c., I find taking them up every two or three years quite enough."

"Do you ever raise these kind of flowers from seed, Sir ?" enquired William.

"It is sometimes done by those who are anxious to obtain new varieties," answered Mr. Newton, "but it is too long to wait to please me; for even the commonest ones are from three to four years before they produce flowers.

P

I always allow the leaves of the crocuses to remain till they quite wither, and therefore am quite content to sacrifice a little in neatness of appearance, lest in cutting them when the flowers merely are faded, I should injure the corms."

"What do you mean by the corms, Sir," enquired little George.

"Particular kinds of bulbous-rooted flowers are called corms, as crocuses, Irises, &c.; while others, such as dahlias, are called tubers. I find with respect to these latter," continued Alfred Newton, "that it is well not to take up their tubers too soon, lest they shrivel and become rotten; and I am careful to keep them in a dry place, as indeed should be observed by all bulbous roots."

"I believe it is not well to let dahlias have too rich a soil ?" said Mr. Warden.

"No," said Alfred Newton; "if the soil be too rich or moist, your dahlias will produce more stalks and leaves than flowers."

"In return for my unlimited power of gathering what flowers I please for my vases," said Mrs. Newton, "it is my especial duty to cut off all faded blossoms, as they are not only unsightly, but tend to exhaust the plant needlessly." "How I should like to come and help you ma'am, as well I could, in your gardening," said Lucy Warden.

"And how glad I should be of your assistance, my dear child," said the gentle old lady, "and your little sister, too, would be a capital help in the troublesome task of searching for insects; for we gardeners are obliged to be great destroyers of some of these worrying little visitors."

"Yes," said Mary, "you say 'some' ma'am; I know what you mean, that 'some' insects are friends instead of enemies. I remember, Mamma told me that the ladybird,

should be spared, as she lives on the larvae of the green fly or aphis." "Well Newton.

done, my little gardener!" exclaimed Mrs.

"And so are the dear birds very good friends, in devouring insects that we want to get rid of," proceeded little Mary, "for there are some that I 've no mercy on, they do so much mischief in our garden. Georgy and I set fine traps for those wretches of snails and slugs, who gobble up everything they come near; we lay flower-pots down sideways, into which they are sure to creep for shade and refuge when the sun is hot; and then we look carefully in every scrap of ivy or box, for there are always sure to be some hiding there. But our favourite plan is to watch for dead butterflies and moths, as we are certain to find a batch of eggs somewhere near, just laid; and then if we destroy the insects in their egg-shape, we prevent a great deal of future mischief, as well as not having such a cruel kind of job to do."

"I see you keep your flowering plants dwarf and compact, Alfred," observed Mr. Warden.

"Yes," answered he; "they not only look neater, but tall, ill-grown plants never produce fine flowers. I thin my annuals when they have their second pair of leaves, and again when they are about a foot high. As the plants grow, I water them occasionally, and stake and tie them up when they reach a proper height, and require support. We are careful, too, to remove our annuals directly they have done blowing, as they are then unsightly."

"It has been well said," remarked Mr. Singleton, "that a gardener's work is never at an end; it begins with the year, and continues to the next;' and an ancient writer says, 'a gardener is not only to reckon upon the loss of bare

twelve hours, but a whole year, unless he immediately set about the doing that which ought to be done that very instant.''

"That is perfectly true, and quite as applicable to gardening in the present day, as when the old fellow wrote it, whenever that might be," said Alfred Newton; "nothing is so essential to a gardener as uniform and constant method in all he does; for want of proper attention to each duty in its proper season, it frequently happens that a great many things occur to be done on a sudden, and all at once, so that some must of necessity be neglected for that year, which occasions great and often irrevocable loss of time.”

"I should fancy you seldom have to regret any such omission," said Mrs. Warden; "all here looks orderly and neat to extreme precision."

LOVE OF A GARDEN.

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"We do our best," answered Alfred Newton, "and my mother and I possess two great requisites for gardeners; we love our employment, and have plenty of leisure to devote to our favourite pursuit. We grudge no labour for our garden; so that, what with stirring the soil, manuring, sowing seeds, planting bulbs, transplanting, watering, taking suckers, layers, and cuttings, budding, grafting, pruning, training, protecting from frost, destruction of insects, &c., &c., we occupy fully every moment of our time as we best like, and contrive to keep our garden and green-house in tolerable order."

"Ah, yes!" said Mr. Singleton, "as Cowper tells us :

"Who loves a garden loves a green-house, too;

Unconscious of a less propitious clime

There blooms exotic beauty, warm and snug,

While the winds whistle, and the snows descend.'

"So, I suppose your green-house is as well stored and full of beauty as your garden, Sir?" added he, addressing Mr. Newton.

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"My mother and I carry our plebeian taste there also," replied Alfred Newton; we care not so much for rare and expensive exotics, as we like to have profusion of really beautiful healthful blossoms. I do not think the love of flowers need be made an extravagant taste, to render it a means of pleasure.”

"On the contrary," added his mother, smiling at Mr. Singleton; "you know what Cowley says of a garden

"Whoever a true epicure would be,

May there find cheap and virtuous luxury.'

"I quite agree with you and your son, Madam," replied Mr. Singleton, "in condemning useless expense as a necessary part of enjoyment in gardening; indeed, it is one of the greatest blessings attendant upon a love of flowers that