Of Oncidiums there are many that demand stove treatment. The story of _Onc. splendidum_ is curious. It first turned up in France some thirty years ago. A ship's captain sailing from St. Lazare brought half a dozen pieces, which he gave to his "owner," M. Herman. The latter handed them to MM. Thibaut and Ketteler, of Sceaux, who split them up and distributed them. Two of the original plants found their way to England, and they also appear to have been cut up. A legend of the King Street Auction Room recalls how perfervid compet.i.tors ran up a bit of _Onc.

splendidum_, that had only one leaf, to thirty guineas. The whole stock vanished presently, which is not surprising if it had all been divided in the same ruthless manner. From that day the species was lost until Mr. Sander turned his attention to it. There was no record of its habitat. The name of the vessel, or even of the captain, might have furnished a clue had it been recorded, for the shipping intelligence of the day would have shown what ports he was frequenting about that time.

I could tell of mysterious orchids traced home upon indications less distinct. But there was absolutely nothing. Mr. Sander, however, had scrutinized the plant carefully, while specimens were still extant, and from the structure of the leaf he formed a strong conclusion that it must belong to the Central American flora; furthermore, that it must inhabit a very warm locality. In 1882 he directed one of his collectors, Mr. Oversluys, to look for the precious thing in Costa Rica. Year after year the search proceeded, until Mr. Oversluys declared with some warmth that _Onc. splendidum_ might grow in heaven or in the other place, but it was not to be found in Costa Rica. But theorists are stubborn, and year after year he was sent back. At length, in 1882, riding through a district often explored, the collector found himself in a gra.s.sy plain, dotted with pale yellow flowers. He had beheld the same many times, but his business was orchids. On this occasion, however, he chanced to approach one of the ma.s.ses, and recognized the object of his quest. It was the familiar case of a man who overlooks the thing he has to find, because it is too near and too conspicuous. But Mr. Oversluys had excuse enough. Who could have expected to see an Oncidium buried in long gra.s.s, exposed to the full power of a tropic sun?

_Oncidium Lanceanum_ is, perhaps, the hottest of its genus. Those happy mortals who can grow it declare they have no trouble, but unless perfectly strong and healthy it gets "the spot," and promptly goes to wreck. In the houses of the "New Plant and Bulb Company," at Colchester--now extinct--_Onc. Lanceanum_ flourished with a vigour almost embarra.s.sing, putting forth such enormous leaves, as it hung close to the gla.s.s, as made blinds quite superfluous at midsummer. But this was an extraordinary case. Certainly it is a glorious spectacle in flower--yellow, barred with brown; the lip violet. The spikes last a month in full beauty--sometimes two.

An Oncidium which always commands attention from the public and grateful regard from the devotee is _Onc. papilio_. Its strange form fascinated the Duke of Devonshire, grandfather to the present, who was almost the first of our lordly amateurs, and tempted him to undertake the explorations which introduced so many fine plants to Europe.

The "b.u.t.terfly orchid" is so familiar that I do not pause to describe it. But imagine that most interesting flower all blue, instead of gold and brown! I have never been able to learn what was the foundation of the old belief in such a marvel. But the great Lindley went to his grave in unshaken confidence that a blue _papilio_ exists. Once he thought he had a specimen; but it flowered, and his triumph had to be postponed. I myself heard of it two years back, and tried to cherish a belief that the news was true. A friend from Natal a.s.sured me that he had seen one on the table of the Director of the Gardens at Durban; but it proved to be one of those terrestrial orchids, so lovely and so tantalizing to us, with which South Africa abounds. Very slowly do we lengthen the catalogue of them in our houses. There are gardeners, such as Mr. Cook at Loughborough, who grow _Disa grandiflora_ like a weed. Mr. Watson of Kew demonstrated that _Disa racemosa_ will flourish under conditions easily secured. I had the good fortune to do as much for _Disa Cooperi_, though not by my own skill. One supreme little triumph is mine, however. In very early days, when animated with the courage of utter ignorance, I bought eight bulbs of _Disa discolor_, and flowered them, every one! No mortal in Europe had done it before, nor has any tried since, I charitably hope, for a more rubbishing bloom does not exist. But there it was--_Ego feci_! And the specimen in the Herbarium at Kew bears my name.

But legends should not be disregarded when it is certain that they reach us from a native source. Some of the most striking finds had been announced long since by observant savages. I have told the story of _Phaloenopsis Sanderiana_. It was a Zulu who put the discoverer of the new yellow Calla on the track. The blue Utricularia had been heard of and discredited long before it was found--Utricularias are not orchids indeed, but only botanists regard the distinction. The natives of a.s.sam persistently a.s.sert that a bright yellow Cymbidium grows there, of supremest beauty, and we expect it to turn up one day; the Malagasy describe a scarlet one. But I am digressing.

Epidendrums mostly will bear as much heat as can be given them while growing; all demand more sunshine than they can get in our climate.

Amateurs do not seem to be so well acquainted with the grand things of this genus as they should be. They distrust all imported Epidendrums.

Many worthless species, indeed, bear a perplexing resemblance to the finest; so much so, that the most observant of authorities would not think of buying at the auction-room unless he had confidence enough in the seller's honesty to accept his description of a "lot." Gloriously beautiful, however, are some of those rarely met with; easy to cultivate also, in a sunny place, and not dear. _Epid. rhizophorum_ has been lately rechristened _Epid. radicans_--a name which might be confined to the Mexican variety. For the plant recurs in Brazil, practically the same, but with a certain difference. The former grows on shrubs, a true epiphyte; the latter has its bottom roots in the soil, at foot of the tallest trees, and runs up to the very summit, perhaps a hundred and fifty feet. The flowers also show a distinction, but in effect they are brilliant orange-red, the lip yellow, edged with scarlet. Forty or fifty of them hanging in a cl.u.s.ter from the top of the raceme make a show to remember. Mr. Watson "saw a plant a few years ago, that bore eighty-six heads of flowers!" They last for three months. _Epid. prismatocarpum_, also, is a lovely thing, with narrow dagger-like sepals and petals, creamy-yellow, spotted black, lip mauve or violet, edged with pale yellow.

Of the many hot Dendrobiums, Australia supplies a good proportion. There is _D. bigibb.u.m_, of course, too well known for description; it dwells on the small islands in Torres Straits. This species flowered at Kew so early as 1824, but the plant died. Messrs. Loddiges, of Hackney, re-introduced it thirty years later. _D. Johannis_, from Queensland, brown and yellow, streaked with orange, the flowers curiously twisted.

_D. superbiens_, from Torres Straits, rosy purple, edged with white, lip crimson. Handsomest of all by far is _D. phaloenopsis_. It throws out a long, slender spike from the tip of the pseudo-bulb, bearing six or more flowers, three inches across. The sepals are lance-shaped, and the petals, twice as broad, rosy-lilac, with veins of darker tint; the lip, arched over by its side lobes, crimson-lake in the throat, paler and striped at the mouth. It was first sent home by Mr. Forbes, of Kew Gardens, from Timor Laut, in 1880. But Mr. Fitzgerald had made drawings of a species substantially the same, some years before, from a plant he discovered on the property of Captain Bloomfield, Balmain, in Queensland, nearly a thousand miles south of Timor. Mr. Sander caused search to be made, and he has introduced Mr. Fitzgerald's variety under the name of _D. ph. Statterianum_. It is smaller than the type, and crimson instead of lilac.

Bulbophyllums rank among the marvels of nature. It is a point comparatively trivial that this genus includes the largest of orchids and, perhaps, the smallest.

_B. Beccarii_ has leaves two feet long, eighteen inches broad. It encircles the biggest tree in one clasp of its rhizomes, which travellers mistake for the coil of a boa constrictor. Furthermore, this species emits the vilest stench known to scientific persons, which is a great saying. But these points are insignificant. The charm of Bulbophyllums lies in their machinery for trapping insects. Those who attended the Temple show last year saw something of it, if they could penetrate the crush around _B. barbigerum_ on Sir Trevor Lawrence's stand. This tiny but amazing plant comes from Sierra Leone. The long yellow lip is attached to the column by the slenderest possible joint, so that it rocks without an instant's pause. At the tip is set a brush of silky hairs, which wave backwards and forwards with the precision of machinery. No wonder that the natives believe it a living thing. The purpose of these arrangements is to catch flies, which other species effect with equal ingenuity if less elaboration. Very pretty too are some of them, as _B. Lobbii_. Its clear, clean, orange-creamy hue is delightful to behold. The lip, so delicately balanced, quivers at every breath. If the slender stem be bent back, as by a fly alighting on the column, that quivering cap turns and hangs imminent; another tiny shake, as though the fly approached the nectary, and it falls plump, head over heels, like a shot, imprisoning the insect. Thus the flower is impregnated. If we wished to excite a thoughtful child's interest in botany--not regardless of the sense of beauty either--we should make an investment in _Bulbophyllum Lobbii_. _Bulbophyllum Dearei_ also is pretty--golden ochre spotted red, with a wide dorsal sepal, very narrow petals flying behind, lower sepals broadly striped with red, and a yellow lip, upon a hinge, of course; but the gymnastic performances of this species are not so impressive as in most of its kin.

A new Bulbophyllum, _B. G.o.dseffianum_, has lately been brought from the Philippines, contrived on the same principle, but even more charming.

The flowers, two inches broad, have the colour of "old gold," with stripes of crimson on the petals, and the dorsal sepal shows membranes almost transparent, which have the effect of silver embroidery.

Until _B. Beccarii_ was introduced, from Borneo, in 1867, the Grammatophyllums were regarded as monsters incomparable. Mr. Arthur Keyser, Resident Magistrate at Selangor, in the Straits Settlement, tells of one which he gathered on a Durian tree, seven feet two inches high, thirteen feet six inches across, bearing seven spikes of flower, the longest eight feet six inches--a weight which fifteen men could only just carry. Mr. F.W. Burbidge heard a tree fall in the jungle one night when he was four miles away, and on visiting the spot, he found, "right in the collar of the trunk, a Grammatophyllum big enough to fill a Pickford's van, just opening its golden-brown spotted flowers, on stout spikes two yards long." It is not to be hoped that we shall ever see monsters like these in Europe. The genus, indeed, is unruly. _G.

speciosum_ has been grown to six feet high, I believe, which is big enough to satisfy the modest amateur, especially when it develops leaves two feet long. The flowers are--that is, they ought to be--six inches in diameter, rich yellow, blotched with reddish purple. They have some giants at Kew now, of which fine things are expected. _G.

Measureseanum_, named after Mr. Measures, a leading amateur, is pale buff, speckled with chocolate, the ends of the sepals and petals charmingly tipped with the same hue. Within the last few months Mr.

Sander has obtained _G. multiflorum_ from the Philippines, which seems to be not only the most beautiful, but the easiest to cultivate of those yet introduced. Its flowers droop in a garland of pale green and yellow, splashed with brown, not loosely set, as is the rule, but scarcely half an inch apart. The effect is said to be lovely beyond description. We may hope to judge for ourselves in no long time, for Mr. Sander has presented a wondrous specimen to the Royal Gardens, Kew. This is a.s.suredly the biggest orchid ever brought to Europe. Its snakey pseudo-bulbs measure nine feet, and the old flower spikes stood eighteen feet high. It will be found in the Victoria Regia house, growing strongly.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 6: _Vanda Lowii_ is properly called _Renanthera Lowii_.]

[Footnote 7: _Vide_ page 100.]

THE LOST ORCHID.

Not a few orchids are "lost"--have been described that is, and named, even linger in some great collection, but, bearing no history, cannot now be found. Such, for instance, are _Cattleya Jongheana_, _Cymbidium Hookerianum_, _Cypripedium Fairianum_. But there is one to which the definite article might have been applied a very few days ago. This is _Cattleya l.a.b.i.ata vera_. It was the first to bear the name of Cattleya, though not absolutely the first of that genus discovered. _C.

Loddigesii_ preceded it by a few years, but was called an Epidendrum.

Curious it is to note how science has returned in this latter day to the views of a pre-scientific era. Professor Reichenbach was only restrained from abolishing the genus Cattleya, and merging all its species into Epidendrum, by regard for the weakness of human nature. _Cattleya l.a.b.i.ata vera_ was sent from Brazil to Dr. Lindley by Mr. W. Swainson, and reached Liverpool in 1818. So much is certain, for Lindley makes the statement in his _Collectanea Botanica_. But legends and myths encircle that great event. It is commonly told in books that Sir W.

Jackson Hooker, Regius Professor of Botany at Glasgow, begged Mr.

Swainson--who was collecting specimens in natural history--to send him some lichens. He did so, and with the cases arrived a quant.i.ty of orchids which had been used to pack them. Less suitable material for "dunnage" could not be found, unless we suppose that it was thrust between the boxes to keep them steady. Paxton is the authority for this detail, which has its importance. The orchid arriving in such humble fashion proved to be _Cattleya l.a.b.i.ata_; Lindley gave it that name--there was no need to add _vera_ then. He established a new genus for it, and thus preserved for all time the memory of Mr. Cattley, a great horticulturist dwelling at Barnet. There was no ground in supposing the species rare. A few years afterwards, in fact, Mr.

Gardner, travelling in pursuit of b.u.t.terflies and birds, sent home quant.i.ties of a Cattleya which he found on the precipitous sides of the Pedro Bonita range, and also on the Gavea, which our sailors call "Topsail" Mountain, or "Lord Hood's Nose." These orchids pa.s.sed as _C.

l.a.b.i.ata_ for a while. Paxton congratulated himself and the world in his _Flower Garden_ that the stock was so greatly increased. Those were the coaching days, when botanists had not much opportunity for comparison.

It is to be observed, also, that Gardner's Cattleya was the nearest relative of Swainson's;--it is known at present as _C. l.a.b.i.ata Warneri_.

The true species, however, has points unmistakable. Some of its kinsfolk show a double flower-sheath;--very, very rarely, under exceptional circ.u.mstances. But _Cattleya l.a.b.i.ata vera_ never fails, and an interesting question it is to resolve why this alone should be so carefully protected. One may cautiously surmise that its habitat is even damper than others'. In the next place, some plants have their leaves red underneath, others green, and the flower-sheath always corresponds; this peculiarity is shared by _C. l. Warneri_ alone. Thirdly--and there is the grand distinction, the one which gives such extreme value to the species--it flowers in the late autumn, and thus fills a gap. Those who possess a plant may have Cattleyas in bloom the whole year round--and they alone. Accordingly, it makes a section by itself in the cla.s.sification of _Reichenbachia_, as the single species that flowers from the current year's growth, after resting. Section II. contains the species that flower from the current year's growth before resting.

Section III., those that flower from last year's growth after resting.

All these are many, but _C. l. vera_ stands alone.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CATTLEYA l.a.b.i.aTA.

Reduced to One Sixth.]

We have no need to dwell upon the contest that arose at the introduction of _Cattleya Mossiae_ in 1840, which grew more and more bitter as others of the cla.s.s came in, and has not yet ceased. It is enough to say that Lindley declined to recognize _C. Mossiae_ as a species, though he stood almost solitary against "the trade," backed by a host of enthusiastic amateurs. The great botanist declared that he could see nothing in the beautiful new Cattleya to distinguish it as a species from the one already named, _C. l.a.b.i.ata_, except that most variable of characteristics, colour. Modes of growth and times of flowering do not concern science. The structure of the plants is identical, and to admit _C. Mossiae_ as a sub-species of the same was the utmost concession Lindley would make. This was in 1840. Fifteen years later came _C.

Warscewiczi_, now called _gigas_; then, next year, _C. Trianae_; _C.

Dowiana_ in 1866; _C. Mendellii_ in 1870--all _l.a.b.i.atas_, strictly speaking. At each arrival the controversy was renewed; it is not over yet. But Sir Joseph Hooker succeeded Lindley and Reichenbach succeeded Hooker as the supreme authority, and each of them stood firm. There are, of course, many Cattleyas recognized as species, but Lindley's rule has been maintained. We may return to the lost orchid.

As time went on, and the merits of _C. l.a.b.i.ata vera_ were understood, the few specimens extant--proceeding from Mr. Swainson's importation--fetched larger and larger prices. Those merits, indeed, were conspicuous. Besides the season of flowering, this proved to be the strongest and most easily grown of Cattleyas. Its normal type was at least as charming as any, and it showed an extraordinary readiness to vary. Few, as has been said, were the plants in cultivation, but they gave three distinct varieties. Van Houtte shows us two in his admirable _Flore des Serres; C. l. candida_, from Syon House, pure white excepting the ochrous throat--which is invariable--and _C. l. picta_, deep red, from the collection of J.J. Blandy, Esq., Reading. The third was _C. l.

Pescatorei_, white, with a deep red blotch upon the lip, formerly owned by Messrs. Rouget-Chauvier, of Paris, now by the Duc de Ma.s.sa.

Under such circ.u.mstances the dealers began to stir in earnest. From the first, indeed, the more enterprising had made efforts to import a plant which, as they supposed, must be a common weed at Rio, since men used it to "pack" boxes. But that this was an error they soon perceived.

Taking the town as a centre, collectors pushed out on all sides.

Probably there is not one of the large dealers, in England or the Continent, dead or living, who has not spent money--a large sum, too--in searching for _C. l. vera_. Probably, also, not one has lost by the speculation, though never a sign nor a hint, scarcely a rumour, of the thing sought rewarded them. For all secured new orchids, new bulbs--Eucharis in especial--Dipladenias, Bromeliaceae, Calladiums, Marantas, Aristolochias, and what not. In this manner the lost orchid has done immense service to botany and to mankind. One may say that the hunt lasted seventy years, and led collectors to strike a path through almost every province of Brazil--almost, for there are still vast regions unexplored. A man might start, for example, at Para, and travel to Bogota, two thousand miles or so, with a stretch of six hundred miles on either hand which is untouched. It may well be asked what Mr.

Swainson was doing, if alive, while his discovery thus agitated the world. Alive he was, in New Zealand, until the year 1855, but he offered no a.s.sistance. It is scarcely to be doubted that he had none to give.

The orchids fell in his way by accident--possibly collected in distant parts by some poor fellow who died at Rio. Swainson picked them up, and used them to stow his lichens.

Not least extraordinary, however, in this extraordinary tale is the fact that various bits of _C. l. vera_ turned up during this time. Lord Home has a n.o.ble specimen at Bothwell Castle, which did not come from Swainson's consignment. His gardener told the story five years ago. "I am quite sure," he wrote, "that my nephew told me the small bit I had from him"--forty years before--"was off a newly-imported plant, and I understood it had been brought by one of Messrs. Horsfall's ships." Lord Fitzwilliam seems to have got one in the same way, from another ship.

But the most astonishing case is recent. About seven years ago two plants made their appearance in the Zoological Gardens at Regent's Park--in the conservatory behind Mr. Bartlett's house. How they got there is an eternal mystery. Mr. Bartlett sold them for a large sum; but an equal sum offered him for any sc.r.a.p of information showing how they came into his hands he was sorrowfully obliged to refuse--or, rather, found himself unable to earn. They certainly arrived in company with some monkeys; but when, from what district of South America, the closest search of his papers failed to show. In 1885, Dr. Regel, Director of the Imperial Gardens at St. Petersburg, received a few plants. It may be worth while to name those gentlemen who recently possessed examples of _C. l. vera_, so far as our knowledge goes. They were Sir Trevor Lawrence, Lord Rothschild, Duke of Marlborough, Lord Home, Messrs. J.

Chamberlain, T. Statten, J.J. Blandy, and G. Hardy, in England; in America, Mr. F.L. Ames, two, and Mr. H.H. Hunnewell; in France, Comte de Germiny, Duc de Ma.s.sa, Baron Alphonse and Baron Adolf de Rothschild, M.

Treyeran of Bordeaux. There were two, as is believed, in Italy.

And now the horticultural papers inform us that the lost orchid is found, by Mr. Sander of St. Albans. a.s.suredly he deserves his luck--if the result of twenty years' labour should be so described. It was about 1870, we believe, that Mr. Sander sent out Arnold, who pa.s.sed five years in exploring Venezuela. He had made up his mind that the treasure must not be looked for in Brazil. Turning next to Colombia, in successive years, Chesterton, Bartholomeus, Kerbach, and the brothers Klaboch overran that country. Returning to Brazil, his collectors, Oversluys, Smith, Bestwood, went over every foot of the ground which Swainson seems, by his books, to have traversed. At the same time Clarke followed Gardner's track through the Pedro Bonita and Topsail Mountains. Then Osmers traced the whole coast-line of the Brazils from north to south, employing five years in the work. Finally, Digance undertook the search, and died this year. To these men we owe grand discoveries beyond counting. To name but the grandest, Arnold found _Cattleya Percevaliana_; from Colombia were brought _Odont. vex. rubellum_, _Bollea coelestis_, _Pescatorea Klabochorum_; Smith sent _Cattleya O'Brieniana_; Clarke the dwarf Cattleyas, _pumila_ and _praestans_; Lawrenceson _Cattleya Schroederae_; Chesterton _Cattleya Sanderiana_; Digance _Cattleya Diganceana_, which received a Botanical certificate from the Royal Horticultural Society on September 8th, 1890. But they heard not a whisper of the lost orchid.

In 1889 a collector employed by M. Moreau, of Paris, to explore Central and North Brazil in search of insects, sent home fifty plants--for M.

Moreau is an enthusiast in orchidology also. He had no object in keeping the secret of its habitat, and when Mr. Sander, chancing to call, recognized the treasure so long lost, he gave every a.s.sistance.

Meanwhile, the International Horticultural Society of Brussels had secured a quant.i.ty, but they regarded it as new, and gave it the name of _Catt. Warocqueana_; in which error they persisted until Messrs. Sander flooded the market.

AN ORCHID FARM.

My articles brought upon me a flood of questions almost as embarra.s.sing as flattering to a busy journalist. The burden of them was curiously like. Three ladies or gentlemen in four wrote thus: "I love orchids. I had not the least suspicion that they may be cultivated so easily and so cheaply. I am going to begin. Will you please inform me"--here diversity set in with a vengeance! From temperature to flower-pots, from the selection of species to the selection of peat, from the architecture of a greenhouse to the capabilities of window-gardening, with excursions between, my advice was solicited. I replied as best I could. It must be feared, however, that the most careful questioning and the most elaborate replies by post will not furnish that ground-work of knowledge, the ABC of the science, which is needed by a person utterly unskilled; nor will he find it readily in the hand-books. Written by men familiar with the alphabet of orchidology from their youth up, though they seem to begin at the beginning, ignorant enthusiasts who study them find woeful gaps. It is little I can do in this matter; yet, believing that the culture of these plants will be as general shortly as the culture of pelargoniums under gla.s.s--and firmly convinced that he who hastens that day is a real benefactor to his kind--I am most anxious to do what lies in my power. Considering the means by which this end may be won, it appears necessary above all to avoid boring the student. He should be led to feel how charming is the business in hand even while engaged with prosaic details; and it seems to me, after some thought, that the sketch of a grand orchid nursery will best serve our purpose for the moment. There I can show at once processes and results, pa.s.sing at a step as it were from the granary into the harvest-field, from the workshop to the finished and glorious production.

"An orchid farm" is no extravagant description of the establishment at St. Albans. There alone in Europe, so far as I know, three acres of ground are occupied by orchids exclusively. It is possible that larger houses might be found--everything is possible; but such are devoted more or less to a variety of plants, and the departments are not all gathered beneath one roof. I confess, for my own part, a hatred of references. They interrupt the writer, and they distract the reader. At the place I have chosen to ill.u.s.trate our theme, one has but to cross a corridor from any of the working quarters to reach the showroom. We may start upon our critical survey from the very dwelling-house. Pundits of agricultural science explore the sheds, I believe, the barns, stables, machine-rooms, and so forth, before inspecting the crops. We may follow the same course, but our road offers an unusual distraction.

It pa.s.ses from the farmer's hall beneath a high glazed arch. Some thirty feet beyond, the path is stopped by a wall of tufa and stalact.i.te which rises to the lofty roof, and compels the traveller to turn right or left. Water pours down it and falls trickling into a narrow pool beneath. Its rough front is studded with orchids from crest to base.

Coelogenes have lost those pendant wreaths of bloom which lately tipped the rock as with snow. But there are Cymbidiums arching long sprays of green and chocolate; thickets of Dendrobe set with flowers beyond counting--ivory and rose and purple and orange; scarlet Anthuriums: huge clumps of Phajus and evergreen Calanthe, with a score of spikes rising from their broad leaves; Cypripediums of quaint form and striking half-tones of colour; Oncidiums which droop their slender garlands a yard long, golden yellow and spotted, purple and white--a hundred tints. The crown of the rock bristles all along with Cattleyas, a dark-green glossy little wood against the sky. The _Trianaes_ are almost over, but here and there a belated beauty pushes through, white or rosy, with a lip of crimson velvet. _Mossiaes_ have replaced them generally, and from beds three feet in diameter their great blooms start by the score, in every shade of pink and crimson and rosy purple. There is _Loelia elegans_, exterminated in its native home, of such bulk and such luxuriance of growth that the islanders left forlorn might almost find consolation in regarding it here. Over all, climbing up the spandrils of the roof in full blaze of sunshine, is _Vanda teres_, round as a pencil both leaves and stalk, which will drape those bare iron rods presently with crimson and pink and gold.[8] The way to our farmyard is not like others. It traverses a corner of fairyland.

We find a door masked by such a rock as that faintly and vaguely pictured, which opens on a broad corridor. Through all its length, four hundred feet, it is ceilinged with baskets of Mexican orchid, as close as they will fit. Upon the left hand lie a series of gla.s.s structures; upon the right, below the level of the corridor, the workshops; at the end--why, to be frank, the end is blocked by a ponderous screen of matting just now. But this dingy barrier is significant of a work in hand which will not be the least curious nor the least charming of the strange sights here. The farmer has already a "siding" of course, for the removal of his produce; he finds it necessary to have a station of his own also for the convenience of clients. Beyond the screen at present lies an area of mud and ruin, traversed by broken walls and rows of hot-water piping swathed in felt to exclude the chill air. A few weeks since, this little wilderness was covered with gla.s.s, but the ends of the long "houses" have been cut off to make room for a structure into which visitors will step direct from the train. The platform is already finished, neat and trim; so are the vast boilers and furnaces, newly rebuilt, which would drive a cotton factory.

A busy scene that is which we survey, looking down through openings in the wall of the corridor. Here is the composing-room, where that magnificent record of orchidology in three languages, the "Reichenbachia," slowly advances from year to year. There is the printing-room, with no steam presses or labour-saving machinery, but the most skilful craftsmen to be found, the finest paper, the most deliberate and costly processes, to rival the great works of the past in ill.u.s.trating modern science. These departments, however, we need not visit, nor the chambers, lower still, where mechanical offices are performed.