of plum. But even a south wall is an ineffectual
protection against the heavy hoar-frosts and late
snow-storms which occasionally occur even in
May. Morning frosts in June are far from
rare; but, by that time, the well-developed
leaves are able to shelter the young fruit. The
genius of Thomas Rivers invented orchard-houses
and the plan of growing plum-trees in
pots — a clever contrivance and adaptation
especially suitable and convenient for small gardens
and suburban villas. Respecting the results so
obtained, experience is contradictory: some
have had decided success, while others complain
of considerable failure. But it is not illogical
to hold to the opinion that, if one man has
succeeded, all men may.

Perhaps, the true plum orchard, for England,
may be yet to be invented— a sort of adaptive
Crystal Palace, to be placed, say in February,
over trees planted in the open ground, with
Venetian ventilators capable of putting the
plants almost in the open air during a great
part of the day, and entirely removable when
all danger of frost is over. The practical difficulty
lies in this: foliage grown under shelter
is much more tender than that which expands
naturally in the open air; and unless air and
direct sunshine are very gradually admitted, the
leaves will be shrivelled, scorched, torn by winds,
or otherwise sufficiently injured to spoil the
ripening of the fruit, injure the health of the
trees, and ultimately kill them, converting the
plum-paradise into a desert. To those who
wish to grow plums in large quantities under
glass, Mr. Rivers suggests a very simple mode
of culture— namely, planting a house with
plum-bushes or pyramids, and removing them
biennially to check their growth. It is found that,
after a few years, owing to their being every
season loaded with fruit, they grow so very
slowly as not to require removal.

The earliest plum is the cerisette, of which
there are red and yellow varieties. It opens
clean, like the damson, leaving the stone loose
and free, and is good though wild— i.e. self-sown,
or raised from stones. The mirabelle is
an early sort of small light-coloured plum, which
bears abundantly (weather permitting), is quite
a free-stone, and tolerably sweet. It is excellent
in jam, having an aromatic flavour, and also as
a brandy-plum. But the earliest plums are not
the best. Better are those which, hanging late,
and protected from flies by muslin bags, become
blue with bloom, unctuous with sugar, and
wrinkled with age, but far from ugly. The
stoneless plum, or Prune sans noyau, is a small
black heart-shaped curiosity, opening well, with
no stone but only a kernel.

If you think of planting an assortment, here
are a dozen useful plums, pretty nearly as they
are ready to pass from hand to mouth:

Early Prolific. Monsieur Hâtif, or early
Orleans, darker in colour than the common
Orleans. Orleans plum-trees vary greatly in
the quality of their fruit: if possible, taste the
fruit of the tree from which the plants you
purchase are budded. Reine Claude de Baray
hâtive, an excellent variety of greengage. The
greengage, the queen of plums, when true; but,
as tolerably good greengages may be raised from
stones, many inferior sub-varieties, which would
be best destroyed, are to be met with in the
market. As with Orleans plums, endeavour to
bud greengages yourself from trees of whose
genuine merit you are sure. Washington, a
fine handsome fruit, deserving more general
cultivation. Jefferson, which justly excites
Rivers's enthusiasm. The red magnum bonum,
an excellent kitchen fruit for families who cut
and come again. The white magnum bonum, if
good and true, and well ripened, has hardly its
superior at dessert, with the sole inconvenience
that it is apt to tempt you to open your mouth
ungracefully wide. Reine Claude violette, or
purple gage, nearly as good as the green, and
carrying plums into the month of October,
Coe's golden drop, to be appreciated, has only
to be seen and tasted. "I have had them in
muslin bags on the trees, partaking of the
flavour of those called French plums, but richer
and more agreeable." St. Martin's quetsche.
otherwise zwetsche, Frenchified into couetsche,
a German damson, in high repute for preserves
and liqueurs. Lastly, the blue Impératrice,
which should be allowed to hang on the tree till
it shrivels. If secured from frost, it may be
kept very late indeed.

Besides the above, damsons and bullaces (not
to be despised) will grow almost anywhere,
even in hedgerows that are not too exposed to
schoolboys. In an uncooked state, these minor
and tardy plums scarcely do themselves justice.
Bullaces bottled, like green gooseberries, are
valuable for winter tarts; while the house-
keeper who has either bullace or damson cheese,
or both, in store, need little envy her who
parades a slab of guava jelly.

The gardens of the curious should not be
without ornamental plum-trees. Mr. Fortune
has introduced several from China, very charming,
with semi-double, and also with large
double blossoms— white, flesh-coloured or blush,
and striped like a carnation. These are hardy,
bloom very early— in mid-winter with a little
forcing— and make as quaint, delightful,
floriferous pot-plants as a lady need wish to have in
her boudoir.

THE ZOOPHYTES OF SANDYBAY.

SAGES say there are links between every race
of created beings. We all know the zoophytes,
that unite the peculiarities of flower and animal
life. The bat: half mouse, half bird. The eel:
at once serpent and fish. The monkey— well,
we won't pursue him; the present object is to
treat of one only of these marvellous anomalies,
the link between fish and woman-kind, the
bathing-woman.

To enter fully into the habits of this
extraordinary creature, the scientific inquirer should
establish his head-quarters, for a whole season,
by the sea. Say, at Sandy bay, on the Wessex