About Orchids | Page 5

tanks
of wood lined with sheet-zinc, and a small one to stand on legs. The
experts were much amused. Neither fish nor plant, they said, could live
in a zinc vessel. They proved to be right in the former case, but utterly
wrong in the latter--which, you will observe, is their special domain. I
grew all manner of hardy nymphæa and aquatics for years, until my big
tanks sprung a leak. Having learned by that time the ABC, at least, of
_terra-firma_ gardening, I did not trouble to have them mended. On the
contrary, making more holes, I filled the centre with Pampas grass and
variegated Eulalias, set lady-grass and others round, and bordered the
whole with lobelia--renewing, in fact, somewhat of the spring effect.
Next year, however, I shall plant them with _Anomatheca
cruenta_--quaintest of flowering grasses, if a grass it must be called.
This charming species from South Africa is very little known; readers
who take the hint will be grateful to me. They will find it decidedly
expensive bought by the plant, as growers prefer to sell. But, with a
little pressing seed may be obtained, and it multiplies fast. I find
Anomatheca cruenta hardy in my sheltered garden.
The small tank on legs still remains, and I cut a few _Nymphæa
odorata_ every year. But it is mostly given up to _Aponogeton
distachyon_--the "Cape lily." They seed very freely in the open; and if
this tank lay in the ground, long since their exquisite white flowers, so
strange in shape and so powerful of scent, would have stood as thick as
blades of grass upon it--such a lovely sight as was beheld in the garden
of the late Mr. Harrison, at Shortlands. But being raised two feet or so,

with a current of air beneath, its contents are frozen to a solid block,
soil and all, again and again, each winter. That a Cape plant should
survive such treatment seems incredible--contrary to all the books. But
my established Aponogeton do somehow; only the seedlings perish.
Here again is a useful hint, I trust. But evidently it would be better, if
convenient, to take the bulbs indoors before frost sets in.
Having water thus at hand, it very soon occurred to me to make war
upon the slugs by propagating their natural enemies. Those banks and
borders of Saxifraga hypnoides, to which I referred formerly, exact
some precaution of the kind. Much as every one who sees admires them,
the slugs, no doubt, are more enthusiastic still. Therefore I do not
recommend that idea, unless it be supplemented by some effective
method of combating a grave disadvantage. My own may not commend
itself to every one. Each spring I entrust some casual little boy with a
pail; he brings it back full of frog-spawn and receives sixpence. I
speculate sometimes with complacency how many thousand of healthy
and industrious batrachians I have reared and turned out for the benefit
of my neighbours. Enough perhaps, but certainly no more, remain to
serve me--that I know because the slugs give very little trouble in spite
of the most favourable circumstances. You can always find frogs in my
garden by looking for them, but of the thousands hatched every year,
ninety-nine per cent. must vanish. Do blackbirds and thrushes eat
young frogs? They are strangely abundant with me. But those who
cultivate tadpoles must look over the breeding-pond from time to time.
My whole batch was devoured one year by "devils"--the larvæ of
Dytiscus marginalis, the Plunger beetle. I have benefited, or at least
have puzzled my neighbours also by introducing to them another sort
of frog. Three years ago I bought twenty-five Hyloe, the pretty green
tree species, to dwell in my Odontoglossum house and exterminate the
insects. Every ventilator there is covered with perforated zinc--to
prevent insects getting in; but, by some means approaching the
miraculous, all my Hyloe contrived to escape. Several were caught in
the garden and put back, but again they found their way to the open-air;
and presently my fruit-trees became vocal. So far, this is the experience
of every one, probably, who has tried to keep green frogs. But in my
case they survived two winters--one which everybody recollects, the

most severe of this generation. My frogs sang merrily through the
summer; but all in a neighbour's garden. I am not acquainted with that
family; but it is cheering to think how much innocent diversion I have
provided for its members.
Pleasant also it is, by the way, to vindicate the character of green frogs.
I never heard them spoken of by gardeners but with contempt. Not only
do they persist in escaping; more than that, they decline to catch insects,
sitting motionless all day long--pretty, if you like, but useless. The fact
is, that