About Orchids | Page 8

hose at the end to fix upon the "stand-pipe." Attaching this,
I turn the cock, and from each tiny hole spurts forth a jet, which in ten
minutes will lay the whole floor under water, and convert the house
into a shallow pond; but five minutes afterwards not a sign of the
deluge is visible. Then I felt the joys of orchid culture. Much remained
to learn--much still remains. We have some five thousand species in
cultivation, of which an alarming number demand some difference of
treatment if one would grow them to perfection. The amateur does not
easily collect nor remember all this, and he is apt to be daunted if he
inquire too deeply before "letting himself go." Such in especial I would
encourage. Perfection is always a noble aim; but orchids do not exact
it--far from that! The dear creatures will struggle to fulfil your hopes, to
correct your errors, with pathetic patience. Give them but a chance, and
they will await the progress of your education. That chance lies, as has
been said, in the general conditions--the degree of moisture you can
keep in the air, the ventilation, and the light. These secured, you may
turn up the books, consult the authorities, and gradually accumulate the
knowledge which will enable you to satisfy the preferences of each
class. So, in good time, you may enjoy such a thrill of pleasure as I felt
the other day when a great pundit was good enough to pay me a call.
He entered my tiny Odontoglossum house, looked round, looked round
again, and turned to me. "Sir," he said, "we don't call this an amateur's
collection!"
I have jotted down such hints of my experience as may be valuable to
others, who, as Juvenal put it, own but a single lizard's run of earth.

That space is enough to yield endless pleasure, amusement, and indeed
profit, if a man cultivate it himself. Enthusiast as I am, I would not
accept another foot of garden.[1]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: It is not inappropriate to record that when these articles
were published in the _St. James' Gazette_, the editor received several
communications warning him that his contributor was abusing his good
faith--to put it in the mild French phrase. Happily, my friend was able
to reply that he could personally vouch for the statements.]

AN ORCHID SALE.
Shortly after noon on a sale day, the habitual customers of Messrs.
Protheroe and Morris begin to assemble in Cheapside. On tables of
roughest plank round the auction-rooms there, are neatly ranged the
various lots; bulbs and sticks of every shape, big and little, withered or
green, dull or shining, with a brown leaf here and there, or a mass of
roots dry as last year's bracken. No promise do they suggest of the
brilliant colours and strange forms buried in embryo within their
uncouth bulk. On a cross table stand some dozens of "established"
plants in pots and baskets, which the owners would like to part with.
Their growths of this year are verdant, but the old bulbs look almost as
sapless as those new arrivals. Very few are in flower just now--July and
August are a time of pause betwixt the glories of the Spring and the
milder effulgence of Autumn. Some great Dendrobes--_D.
Dalhousianum_--are bursting into untimely bloom, betraying to the
initiated that their "establishment" is little more than a phrase. Those
garlands of bud were conceived, so to speak, in Indian forests, have lain
dormant through the long voyage, and began to show a few days since
when restored to a congenial atmosphere. All our interest concentrates
in the unlovely things along the wall.
The habitual attendants at an auction-room are always somewhat of a
family party, but, as a rule, an ugly one. It is quite different with the

regular group of orchid-buyers. No black sheep there. A dispute is the
rarest of events, and when it happens everybody takes for granted that
the cause is a misunderstanding. The professional growers are men of
wealth, the amateurs men of standing at least. All know each other, and
a cheerful familiarity rules. We have a duke in person frequently, who
compares notes and asks a hint from the authorities around; some
clergymen; gentry of every rank; the recognized agents of great
cultivators, and, of course, the representatives of the large trading firms.
So narrow even yet is the circle of orchidaceans that almost all the
faces at a sale are recognized, and if one wish to learn the names,
somebody present can nearly always supply them. There is reason to
hope that this will not be the case much longer. As the mysteries and
superstitions environing the orchid are dispersed, our small and select
throng of buyers will be swamped, no doubt;