From the stove opens a very long, narrow house, where cool genera are
"plumping," laid out on moss and potsherds; many of them have burst into
strong growth. Pleiones are flowering freely as they lie. This farmer's
crops come to harvest faster than he can attend to them. Things
beautiful and rare and costly are measured here by the yard--so many
feet of this piled up on the stage, so many of the other, from all
quarters of the world, waiting the leisure of these busy agriculturists.
Nor can we spare them more than a glance. The next house is filled with
Odontoglossums, planted out like "bedding stuff" in a nursery, awaiting
their turn to be potted. They make a carpet so close, so green, that
flowers are not required to charm the eye as it surveys the long
perspective. The rest are occupied just now with cargoes of imported
plants.
My pages are filled--to what poor purpose, seeing how they might have
been used for such a theme, no one could be so conscious as I.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 8: I was too sanguine. _Vanda teres_ refused to thrive.]
ORCHIDS AND HYBRIDIZING.
In the very first place, I declare that this is no scientific chapter.
It is addressed to the thousands of men and women in the realm who tend
a little group of orchids lovingly, and mark the wonders of their
structure with as much bewilderment as interest. They read of
hybridization, they see the result in costly specimens, they get books,
they study papers on the subject.
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