A Garden with House Attached. Sarah Warner Brooks

Ferns should be placed in the full light of a window, given a high temperature and watered evenly, but not too much. The soil should be partially renewed annually, and care should be taken with the roots, which do not like disturbance; especially is this to be observed with the maidenhair, which, if possible, should never be transplanted, and should have its stated period of entire rest, during which it should be kept almost dry. The fuchsia is, properly, an out-door bloomer, but with care can be brought to flower in winter. To this end, pinch back in summer, and in September house, and place in a north or east window. Give much light, water freely with warm water, and give liquid manure and soot tea about twice a week. If given an entire window both flower and foliage will be superb, with this treatment. Time would fail me to enumerate all the desirable plants for house-culture; there is the orange tree, the costly palm, the delicate asparagus, the achyranthes, anthericum, and curculigo, the aspidistra, cyclamen, and many more equally beautiful and practicable, and last, but not least, the inevitable rubber plant, a little stiff and heavy perhaps, but as a single plant decidedly effective. In arranging a table or stand of mixed plants, care should be taken to give each its proper growing place without marring the general effect. Heliotrope, that ardent sun-lover, should have the front row, close to the window-glass. Beside it should sit a begonia or two, and some flowering geraniums. A petunia and a bridal-rose might come next – the petunia twined among the others to hide its scraggy limbs. A nicotiana, well in the light, might make the evenings sweet with its perfume, and if the room be not over-warm, a pot of mignonette might sweeten the air by day, and at night be removed to cooler quarters. In the "middle aisle" an achyranthes or two may stand with sunlight sifting through its fiery leaves, which have thus all the color-effect of blossoms without their perishability. Further back, anthericum may flourish, with curculigo spreading queenly its fluted palm-like leaves, and always craving moisture. And in the "pauper's pew" Wandering Jew will contentedly sit, like charity, kindly covering the entire defects of staring pots that needs must hold its betters; and on the floor, at the foot of all, aspidistra may seem to "choose darkness rather than light." If you need a growing amaryllis or two to eke out your foliage display, they will take a shady place, though to bring them into flower you need a strong, steady sunlight.

      Nicotiana, or tobacco plant, is another fragrant and desirable plant. It thrives in about the same soil as the heliotrope, but needs an entirely different exposure, being one of the few plants that flower perfectly in a sunless window. Experimenting with the nicotiana as a house plant, I found that in a south window the plant was not robust, was scant of bloom, and the flowers quite perishable in comparison with the blossoms in a north window, where the plants grew to a height of more than five feet, and, together, produced one hundred and fifty-six flowers. Through the entire winter no ray of sunlight reached them. They were trained on stout strings quite close to the glass of a double window, kept moist, and given an even temperature of from sixty-five to seventy degrees, and were watered well with liquid manure.

      At evening the blossoms expand, and all through the night it is as if the room were

      "Perfumed from an unseen censer, swung by angels."

      Among the sweet-scented tribe mignonette ranks high as an out-door plant, and as a window bloomer it is exquisite. It rarely outlives transplanting, but may be sown in pots about mid-summer, and pinched back for the house. Another method is to obtain the plant from the florist when in bud. The cost is trifling, and if kept cool and in a sunny window, it will continue in bloom for weeks. Mignonette needs much sunlight, but not too high a temperature, and the plant is much weakened by a single day's omission in watering.

      Another – now almost obsolete – fragrant house plant is the night-blooming jasmine. Its odor is peculiar and intense, and – as its name implies – is only emitted by night. Its foliage is not especially delicate, but nothing can be more dainty than its slender spikes of pale, greenish-white bloom. It is a thrifty plant, making in a single summer a growth of five or six feet. It is a shrub, but one could fancy that, ages ago, it must have been a "sport" of a climber, so slender and rapid is its habit of growth. After flowering-time, which begins late in July and continues until late in October, it drops most of its foliage, which is soon replaced by young, delicate shoots and fresh leaves and buds.

      The Daphne odora, which combines in its small clusters of bloom the exquisite perfume of many sweet flowers, may not be lightly passed by. It is not an easy plant to manage, and often drops its buds just as they seem ready to open. By placing it in the sunny window of a cool room, and watering evenly and not too copiously, it may be brought into flower; and then nothing can be finer than its fragrance.

      The more homely and familiar hyacinth is not only delightful in form, color, and odor, but may be recommended as a "safe investment," as it seldom fails to flower and needs comparatively little care.

      The mahernia is another desirable fragrant plant. It is very effective in a hanging-basket. It comes in flower about the first of February, and its tiny yellow cups are brimful of delicious odor. A home-bred mahernia makes fine foliage, but seldom blooms abundantly; it is, therefore, best to procure the plant from the florist when fully budded. It will then flower well in a sunny window, and for three or four weeks one's room will be as sweet as summer. The wax-plant, though properly a summer blooming plant, sometimes flowers in winter. Its blossoms are very odorous, especially by night, and in structure and color they are exquisite. It is a long-lived plant, easily raised and tended, and, being a climber, may be tastefully trained on a trellis, where, with its glossy, rubber-like leaves, it is very effective. The petunia, as a window plant, blooms freely, and the white variety is fragrant – especially by night. The plant is rather ungainly in its habit of growth. To conceal its scragginess of structure twine its stems among other foliage on your stand, and place it close to the glass, and you will find it pretty and effective. And now that sweet-smelling plants are under consideration, may I not give you the details of an experiment with the common lilac as a house plant? It was made some fifteen years ago, and before I had the slightest knowledge of lilac-forcing, which is now quite common among our florists.

      Early in December a stout, low bush of the hardy purple variety was, with the aid of a pickaxe, dislodged from the frost-bound earth, and with its frozen ball of sod still adhering, thus treated: a large nail-keg, having an auger-hole in its bottom on which some bits of crock were strewn, was filled to about half its depth with warm stable manure; on this the dry leafless bush, with its frozen soil, was set, and the keg filled in with mellow loam. After a good watering, the keg was placed in a deep pan, which was then filled with boiling water, and the whole set near a huge hall stove. The hot water was daily renewed at the bottom, and before many days leaf and flower-buds began to swell on the hard, bare stems of the bush. When these were well formed and the tiny buds quite distinguishable among the pale green foliage, the lilac was removed from its dim corner beside the stove, and given an entire east window in the long hall, where the temperature ranged from forty to sixty, and sometimes as high as seventy degrees. In about two months from the time of housing fourteen large and perfect clusters of pearl-white lilacs rejoiced our eyes. These blossoms were far more delicate in odor than out-door lilacs, and made a delightful atmosphere of spring-time in the homely old farm-house which was then our dwelling-place. We had, too, the novel pleasure of surprising our friends with clusters of fresh lilac in February.

      French florists, who give much attention to lilac-forcing, lay great stress upon the necessity of keeping the bush in the dark in order to bleach the flowers – white lilacs being most marketable, and the common purple lilac most available for forcing on account of its superior vitality. Fortunately I stumbled upon the right treatment, and mine seemed to come white of their own sweet will.

      For a hanging-basket use the oxalis, of which there are many beautiful varieties. It flowers abundantly, but as the season advances, must be stimulated with repeated applications of liquid manure and soot tea, that its foliage may not lose its vigor and become straggly. Wandering Jew, though structurally coarse, is a good hanging plant, and will accommodate itself to any exposure, really doing its very best in a north window. Ivy geranium is another hanging plant, beautiful in structure, and with its double rose-pink blossoms, as in the improved varieties, most fair to see. It demands strong food, much moisture, and oceans of sunlight. Madeira vine and German ivy both make effective hanging-baskets. The latter is too alluring to the green fly to make its house-culture easy or satisfactory. Smilax, if trained on strings, in a sunny window,