DR. DONNE'S CHRISTMAS BOX.

(By John Bi.ackman.)

C11..1T1.R I

Tin., winter of 1(>00, according to old Writers, was ono of tho severest ever ex perienced iv old England ; and Christmas, not wreathed with roses, bathed in sun shin'6, and gemmod with blushing straw berries, as in New Zealand, wore a cold, snow,)'board, anil was decked with the rod berries of tho hardy holly troo. At the timeof which I write, tho time when John Donne, I lio old. preacher-poet, received his Christmas box, peer and peasant wero brought together in old baronial halls and mansions. There was no middle class in those days, and rich and poor wero separately associated with tho Mow of feast ing and festivity. The old hall resounded v.'ith the music of tho harp and tbo soft melody of the Christinas carol, and the tables'were said "to groan" under the weight of lordly hospitality. Theso were, as thoy have been termed, " the good ok! times." Home of us, however, are rather sceptical on this head, and are disposed to thank Heavon that thoso days are tor ever passed away; that man is no longer a vassal, tied and bound to (he estate of a lordly tyrant without tbe advantages of a common education, of poli tical, intellectual, and religious freedom. Tho place where John Donne received his lirst Christmas box antl Buffered for' certain youthful indiscretions is still known as lioselcy Park, and was iv the possession of a branch of the More family, of which Sir Thomas More was tho most illustrious mem ber. This beautiful park, with its woody glades anil pleasant by-pastures, litis among the far-famed Surrey Hills, near' to the sub stantial market town of Guildford, and within sight ol tho mossy ruins of St. Catherine's Chapel. Loseley House is a venerable mansion, and was much larger than at present in the reign of Henry Vlll. It was then the property of Sir Christopher More, a brother of the Chancellor. Tlie male ' members of the family have become extinct. A little river (tbo Wey) winds peace, ill. between tbe white chalk downs and the rich wooded scenery of Chan troy ; ant! in the adjacent valley is a tiny yilh.ro which in course of time has gathered aro.ml the <l»'et church. Uvea in Li. eley's prime, the market fairly populated '. indeed, it was the largest of the Sitnev I >\vti-. Al Christmas, IlilX), thoro was a .real gathering at Loseley House, am! 11. proprietor, Sir Coorgu More, seemed .1. lermined lo oul vie his neighbours in ihe r.p'..-I'i lour, breadth, ami luxurious (ai sc: t.:.s t lo'hcti with lleccy miow, the alni" ph" - icy cold, and the largo ponds thi. I .1\ li'ti'cn over, a number of «... irts w.'i'.' ie.ilul .'. I i" ere 'l»' yellow set ting of the wintry -un. I need not pausu I i ii-.inut.-l; describe the rude |mstiim_ ot those ruder ages, when ladies were not 100

proud to pairuiiifO hull-bailing and cock lightiu". .Some of the sports, however, of Iho-e twilight days, when unseemly religious ..rife e.vi.stod between Jh.naii Catholic and I'rotestanl churches, were full oi spiril and lustihood, and men O.IJ .yoil life roughly, bill heartily. Among Ihe Christmas guests at Loseley ivis l.gerton, afterwards l_llc_mero, Lord High Chancellor, a man of extensive know ledge for the period, and widely esteemed forli _ benevolence and personal virtues. He was accompanied by his secretary, .lobji Donne, a fair, tall young man, with a florid countenance, and possessing moro than ordinary intelligence. Donne was of a lively tomperamont, fond of gaiety, and who had wasted in luxurious habits a 0011 ---siderablo fortune. He was related tothe More family on the maternal aide ; Sir Thomas Egorton was fond of speaking of his secretary as tho "poet of liatclilands." This young man was the life of the party: be recited'verses antl sang his own songs; he tin- quite a Favourite with tho assembled ladies in tbe ball, and was regarded with al!'..fli.in;.lt' interest, by Margaret, the beautiful daughter of Sir Ceorgo. Hut wb-ii t' wis whispered that John Donne bore no lordly title, thai he hail wasted his patrimony, and was only a secretary with poor pros, .cts, most of the young ladies turned from bis presence with fashionable pity, ami left him to the society of Mar garet More ami bis own thoughts. Mar {j'liel More was not only handsome and fascinating in manner, bit! .-be p.- sensed the i. .v. .rot tlist .-iminal iorr and wa- a keen di.-eerner of charactor. She was deeply inlcre .crl in -lolin Donne, was pleased with bis all'ability and conversation, antl felt that be was a gentleman in spite of circumstances, and ipialilicd for a higher position than thai of a secretary —no mean appointment in those dr.s. She was charmed with his goneral demean mi and gonial outflow oi know ledge. His comparative poverty and linancial reverses had mado him rich in a certain s_i.se, inasmuch as he had not been drawn from s.-vcivr studies by the hollow friend ships and frivolous pursuits of meaner men. The pretty .Margaret More questioned and cr.is- questioned the obliging young scholar, au J her questions ranged from tho theo logical |H)i'"levities of tho age to faslyon and tiro mist.- cc bough which hung in the centre ot the spacious brill. John Donne wa- quaint in .some of his answers and witty in others. Theso peculiarities will easily be recognised by thoughtful rcadors of his poetry, which lairly represents his intel lectual character.

" Tell mo, John Donne," said the teasing little lady, " tell mc the meaning of the mistletoe in your own poetic manner. Wo Loseley folk know that yon are a poet."

" My sweet, questioner," 'replied John Donne, "you do me too much honour ! Why ask this of a poor secretary '!"

" Because," she said, "Sir Oeorge and the Earl say you are learned in most things, and are a great scholar." " Would that I were botter^ablo to teach and to do my duty faithfully'tb Cod and man," he replied; " but I have endeavoured to be faithful, Margaret, in my nearest duties."

" You will do better by Cod's help, John Donne," said Margaret, softly ; "besides, you are wise and fanciful, and will not refuse to answer my question at this happy Christmas time."

"The misletoe, Margaret, like yourself, is a remarkably tender plant, delieato and beautiful.''

"The comparison will not bear investiga tion, John." the young lady said. " Mar arret More is not faultless."

The mtsletoe, like some one near me,

" Hush, John Donne, tho truth, and nothing but the truth, if you please."

"Pardon mo, Margaret, I was about to :ny that the mistletoe, with its white, trans parent berries, is always attached to stronger forms of nature, either to the mossy apple ttc-j or to the venerable oak. The ml-1 Id . would seem to possess a myste rious consciousness ol its own inability to support itself, aud so it leans.upon another. In this respect the tree and silver-berried plant i:'.d:caton union of hearts. Its pretty. small green leaves illustrate the freshness of youth, antl its white berries, purity ot thought and sentiment. In its attachment

to sturdy, congenial trees, it represents true marriage; not after tbe fashion of this world, making the solemn ceremony a mockery, as though it were a marketable commodity, and young ladies sold to the highest bidder." " Oh, John Donne, "sighed little Margaret, " Uncle Egerton told mo you wore a poet, and bo told me truly," and she looked up to him with her soul-searching eyes, and be fore sho was aware of his sudden intention, he gave her a kiss under tho seasonable mistletoe, and received in return a sharp box on tho car.

"You should not take such liberties, John Donne, with the daughter of Sir George," said Margaret. " Forgive me, Margaret," said the young scholar,"" it was done on the impulse of the moment. I accept your Christmas-box with modest approval, and shall never for get it while life lasts." Sounds of mu.sieand merriment wore loud in tho decorated hall of Loseley, and so numerous were the guests, and so liberal the Christmas privileges, that ono might wander abroad for hours without being missed from the joyous assemblage. Mar garet More and John Donne had made mutual apologies for what had occurred beneath the mistletoe, and they agreed to take a bracing moonlight walk in the avenue of oaks looking towards Guildford Castle, looming over the icy river. Tbe evening was cold--bitterly cold. The sharp, blood-stirring frost had waved its magic wand over thelandscape, and tbe man sion appeared completely crystallised among the bare frees. The square-towered little Catholic Church in tbe park was distinctly visible and apparently silvered over, glistening in the moonlight like a temple of snow. It was understood almost in tuitively that the secretary was not of high lineage, antl that be bail no immediate pros pects of eminence in the political world. Excellency of character and the possession of superior qualities of mind and heart were of no moment in the estimation of the majority of the guests of Loseley ; few, therefore, cared to bear Donne company ; besides, it was rumoured that John Donne bad partly renounced Catholicism and was inclined towards Hie principles of the Reformation. Tbis was especially distasteful to Sir- George More, who was coldly reserved towards him. Margaret, however, felt a pleasure in listen ing to his conversation, anil showed no dis position to slight tbe scholar on account of dilleiences of creed. She consented, some what reluctantly it is true, to accompany him to the dilapidated .-tone chapel on tbe hill dedicated t.. St. Catherine, and which to this day bear- the saintly name. The outlook from Ibe win.lowless chape! was almost divine beneath the brilliancy of the full moon, while every leailoss spray ami llowerless shrub wen.' fringed with white by the fairy lingers ..i Nature.

A brief slay itilhin (be mossy ruin was siilliciciil, to cool th. ardour of the young couple, and gladly, anil with hasty steps, they returned l.i the paternal mansion, where the yule log blazed brightly, where they mingled with the gay assemblage, and shared the festive enjoyments ola Christ ina.-, night in Loseley Hall.

CIIAI'TEI. II

Foe il turbulent years passed, and when, in Ibo.'i, King .liiine.- of Scotland succeeded to the throne ol .'.inland, Sir Thomas I-gerton was made Lord Chancellor and created Earl of Kile:sincre : aud, to his credit be it said, bo tlitl not, in his exalted position, forget the elliciont and faithful services of John Donne, but retained him in his secretary ship. Sir Thomas antl his secretary had embraced Protestantism, and turned from the oereuioiiinl religion of their youth to the modified faith of the hhiglish Church. Donne's official duties as secretary were comparatively light, and atl'orded him op portunities for self-culturo and intellectual improvement. in his lonely hours he often thought of the Christmas-box at Loseley, and of the little lady who ad ministered it on that cold Christmas night under the mistletoe.

In the ellitlgetit month en" June, IIJOS, Margaret More was a visitor at Hatoll lunt. > the scat of her Must runs relatives. The beauty and warmth of the summer season, the fragrance of luxuriant llower and herbs, woe delightful to tlic-cii.-t..- and invigorating lo the spirit. Donne had repented ol his youthful follies, which many poisons deemed harmless, and felt happy in the peaceful-.elusion of liatclilands. Mar-

garet Mole, the Earl's niece, regarded the .Seci'tlary in the light ot a preceptor rather than in the character of a lover, and was charmed wilb his general observations on nan: ra 1 übj.. el- ami tbe ordor and economy of nut lire. Ilalchlan.l.s was .situated on the

side of a men tie declivity, at the foot of which a winding river ilowed noiselessly be! ween bank-' which occasionally rose to considci'.i.ble heights and again undulated into flowery valleys of purest green. Half way up the southern slope of t.iie of these valleys was the Karl's home, embosomed in tree-ami surrounded by garth-its. Donne had studied at Oxford, and'he possessed, we are told, "an active antl piercing in tellect, an imagination subtle and far-seeing, a fancy rich, vivid, antl picturesque, anil wit noticeable for its caustic severity and quiet playfulness." He was regarded, by tho Earl as a young man of extremely virtuous habits, and as a generous instructor to bis interesting niece. The Karl enter tained tl»e highest opinion of bis secretary, and said " he is titter to servo a king than a subject." The honest secretary aud the young lady were daily companions, and their walks were ever among the most romantic scenery of this part of Surrey. .Margaret looked to Donne as a guide and tlear friend, but their continued companion ship, as might have been suspected, ripened into affectionate regard for each othor. "Your life at Hatchlanils must bemonotouous and lonely, "said Margaret, " almost conipaiiionless, with no happy prospects in the future."

"Our lives are what we make them" replied John Donne; "sweet thoughts aro pleasant companions, happiness or misery is of the mind."

" But your prospects are not flattering, John ; no fortune possibly in tho distance," said the lady.

" By doing my duty in the station of life in which Providence has placed me, I may possess riches which the world cannot give, tho serenities of a quiet conscience," replied the scholar.

Margaret was silent and thoughtful while Donne briefly gave an account of his youthful follies, with .satirical comments and Hashes of forced merriment to hide the pangs which the recollections of years gone by frequently caused. He thought, with a sad smile, of the bright and sanguine anticipations with which ho had entered life, and of his subsequent dis appointments. Margaret observed a mournful [expression upon his face as he re counted lost opportunities anil wasted means. At such moments she slightly up braided him for indulging in desponding thoughts, and reminded him of his saying, " Our lives are what Aye make them," adding, "you will yet bo able to rise superior to present circumstances by the force of your poetic genius, your integrity of conduct, and energy of will. You have all the qualities for success, and have been brought up with tho tastes and education of a gentleman.'

" You are the better angel which I have longed to meet, Margaret," said the secre tary. "In my early days I lived with wealthy men, and at collcgo I associated with .students recklessly disposed, and, believing that I was heir to a large estate, I never learned to value monoy, nor felt that there was any necessity for the practice of economy. Your reference to the poetic faculty rathor pains than pleases mv ; poetry is not a marketable commodity, but in tho eyes of money-grubbing and prosy pooplo it is rather a misfortune than other wise."

"Still, poetry is beautiful. The pretty vct-CH you wrote on the 'Earl's Grotto,' and the 'Gentle Mole' aro among my choicest troasurcs, and will long remain SO." " Ah, but you aro an exception to the rule of young ladies, Margaret, in this un poetic age, and I thank you for your words of encouragement," Art, poetry, and literature, and all that was likely to interest or amuse a thought ful and woil-read young lady, Donne spoke of with feeling and a wiso discrimination. In their frequent walks by the river and in the cultivated desmenc of the Marl, they discovered that their sym pathies were identical and thoir opinions very similar on most of tho subjects upon whicli they conversed, and which were mostly disquisitions on human life—its duties and its aims.

CHARTER 111

TiiK reader will have anticipated the result of these wanderings and conversations between a young man of genius and a sus ceptible young lady of fortune. Margaret had already learned to tlespise the fashions and frivolous occupations of the upper classes of society in those days, and she hud resolved to estimate virtue and talent in a loftier light than that of an estate, which might pass from its indiscreet possessor at the gaming-table in ono night. It was not surprising, therefore, that Mar geret More should entertain a favourable opinion of a young man of excellent charac ter, and prefer his company to that of a reckless scion of the aristocracy of opulence and doubtful propensities, and whose habits of life were not in harmony with the modest pretensions of the Chancellor's secretary. In 1005, the year of the famous Gunpowder Plot, John Donne and Margaret More were at York House, the Chancellor's London mansion, during the fashionable season, and a step—perhaps an imprudent one— brought the young people into serious trouble, and interfered 'materially with Donne's immediate prospects and happi ness. John Donne nnd' Margaret More made a brief olnpcmont, antl were married al St. hull's, Covei,t Garden, much to the regret of Chancellor ..lie. .nore, and to tho anger of Sir (ieorge More, who induced the Chancellor 'to discharge his willing secretary. Sir George pro tested that the marriage was unlawful — that, in fact, if. was no marriage, his daughter being a Catholic and Donne a Protectant. The young lady was taken from her husband, sent home, and confined for many months i-i a solitary room at Loseley Park. There she "pined in solitude," and was only allowed occasional hours of freedom in charge of a responsible person. Donne was imprisoned in the King's Bench, where be passed the follow ing Christmas, employing bis unsought lei.ure in writing somo of thoso quaint verses which the late Dean Alford published a few years since. The imprisoned scholar, however, was not without interested friends, who espoused his cause, and through whoso influence a tedious lawsuit resulted in his release.

One of Donne's truest friends was Sir Francis Wolley, a nephew of Sir Ceorge and first cousin to Lord Ellesmero, and who generously offered a home to Donne under his own roof at Pir ford Manor House, and which Donne mode.-tly accepted, he being at that time without money and without immediate prospects of employment. Indeed some of Donne's effusions written in Surrey clearly indicate that a dread of want clouded tbe scholar's sensitive mind. Donne's loving ami sympathising biographer, Izouk Walton, wrote :--" Donne's sorrows were lessened and his wants prevented by the seasonable courtesy of Ids noble kinsman, Sir Francis W'ollev, of Pirford, in Surrey." Sir Francis did more than this: *bo suc ceeded in effecting a perfect reconcilia tion between Sir George More and Donne, iv consequence of which Mrs Donno was permitted to ioin her husband and reside with him at Pirford House. At Sir Francis .Volley ~ Donne laboured hard in preparing himself for the. sacred olliee of a clergyman of the Established Church, for which oflico ho was eminently qualified by his learning and dis position. 1 may mention, by tho way, that I'ii'l'onl lLm-i.' was one et the most splendid of Surrey mansions even in John Evelyn's

time. In Kvelyn s diary, August.23, HJol, we lind the following entry : "1 was invited to Mr Deny.il Onslow's, at his seat at Pir ford, where was much company, and such an extraordinary feast, etc " This was the same house in which Sir Francis Wolley en tertained Donne and his wife. The site of this once-famous .Manor House, the resort of kings and queens, and some of the wealthiest families in Great Britain, has passed away, and its site cannot with any degree of certainty bo point etl out. The sounds of music and revelry, the glad dance and festivities of Christmastide, are all gone: love - lighted eyes no longer sparkle in tbe light of beauty and fortune. The yule log no longer burns brightly in that once noted hall ; death and desolation have long since swept over it, and life, music, and merriment, with their charms and associations, are silent in the tomb of two centuries. On visiting the .«]H>t a few years ago, 1 found only a few rugged stones heaped one upon tlie other, which wore all that remained of the lion crowned gateway leading to Pirford Manor House.

Sir Francis Wolley diedja comparatively young man in the year 1610, lamented by a large circle of friends, and especially by the peasantry of Surrey, to whom he proved himself a practical friend. His rather unexpected death caused the break ing up of a homo remarkable for liberality and seasonable enjoyments. John Donno and his young wife wero compelled to seek pastures new, and rely more upon their own resources for the means oi a respectable livelihood. They removed to a modest cottage, some twelvo miles south of London, among tho lavender-scented fields of Mitcham, noted, sayslzaak Walton, " for good air and choice company." Sir Ceorge More, whose te-ipcr had undergono an agreeable change, allowed his daughter, Mrs Donne, an annuity of £SO, while Donno added to bis means by keeping a preparatory training school for the sons of noblemen. It was said that, when much needed, Donne received a Christmas-box from an anony mous friends, consisting of one hundred pounds ; the donor, it was believed, was Donne's old employe;-, Lord Ellesmere, wil.li whom be had 'kept up a correspon dence. Having entered into holy orders by the advice of friends who were desirous of serving him, ho often accepted invitations from neighbouring clergymen to preach in their respective churches until his fame for originality and happy turns of thought

reached the metropolis, and, by spocial re request, he preached before King James, who was so much gratified that Donne was appointed preacher to the Honourable Socioty of Lincoln's Inri, and when ho held the living of St. Dunstan's in tho West, in 1014, it was said, that among his listeners woro Shakespere and Bacon, a.s well as his admiring biographer and friend, Izaak Walton, the famous old angler. Donno Mas now rapidly rising into public favour. Shakespere, comparatively unknown, had made a comfortable provision for his brief future by tho performauce of his wonderful dramas, unambitious of the world's applause, Booking only the peace of the spirit on tlie banks o£ his native Avon, among skirting elms and the wild flowers ho lovod so well.

Donne had omerged from the com parative obscurity of years lof struggle, and now possessed one of the best houses in tho neighbourhood of Lincoln's Inn, and was happy in tho society of the woman who had given him the Christmas box when lie was but a poor scholar. " The best pleasures of life," he said, " come through toil and Buffering, and not by self-indul gence and indolence. Talk of fame and romance—all the glory and adventure of the world are not worth one hourof bruedomestic bliss." " Donne's industry and abilities in his profession," wrote the genial angler, " were so eminent, and he so well-known and beloved by persons of quality, that within the lirst year of his entering into sacred orders he had fourteen advowsons of several benefices presented to him." King James said, '• I know Mr Donne is a learned man, has the abilities of a learned divine, and will prove a powerful preacher." Hence the King made him Dean of St. Raul's.

Donne, as the eminent London preacher, was always of modest demeanour, affable and kind even to the poorest of his parishioners. He was systematic and regular iv his habits of life. He was never wealthy, but, say. his latest biographer—"lt is wonderful how much his charity effected. To poor scholars he was was especially liberal, whose means hindered their due progress in their studies. He used to walk about tbe prisons and look after the wants of poor debtors, and he would at times set one and another at liborty by the payment of their debts." In the tlays of Donne's prosperity, Sir Ceorge More suffered a sudden reverse of fortune, and the preachor-poet unhesi tatingly rendered to him necessary assis tance. ' Hence, in one of Donne's letters wo find these words: " I have lived to be useful and comfortable to my good father in-law, Sir George More, whose patience f!od hath been pleased to exercise with many temporal crosses. 1 have main tained my own mother, whom it hath pleased Cod, after a plentiful fortune in hor younger days, to bring to a great decay in bur very old age.'' I have only to add that Dr. John Donne died of consumption in the autumn of 1631, attended by the lady who gave him a Christmas, box, who bent lovingly over him in hi- last momonts, caught his last words and treasured them in her heart of hearts, "Thy will be done, Thy King dom come."

A Young Lady's Idea of Marriage.

So sho was going to be married ; to be mistress of a house, settle in London ; be able to go out into the streets all alone, to .shop or visit; have a gentleman all her own, whom she could put her linger on any moment, and make him take her about, even to the opera and the theatre ; to give dinner-parties her own self, and oven a little ball ouco in a way ; to buy whatever dresses she thought proper, instead of being crippled by an allowance ; have the legal right of speaking first in society, instead of sitting mumchance and mock modest; to be mistress inte./i of M iss contemptible title :tobe a woman instead of a girl; and all this rational liberty, domestic power, and social dignity were to be obtained by merely wedding a dear fellow who loved her, and was so nice ; and the bright career to be ushered in with several delights, each of them dear to a girl's very soul; presents from all her friends ; as many beautiful new dresses as if one was changing her body or her hemisphere, instead of her name : eclat:

gcing to church, which is a good English girl's theatre of display and temple of vanity, and there tasting delightful pub licity and whispered admiration, in a heavenly long veil, which she could not wear even once if she remained single. This bright and variegated picture of holy wedlock, ;_ revealed to young ladies by feminine tradition, though not enumera ted in Ihe Book of Common Prayer, so entranced her that time flew by unheeded. —Charles Ecode.

Adventure of a Yankee Reporter.

When the Siamese twins died, Philadelphia surgery had the honour of dissecting them ; and under the peculiar circumstances —one having died of horror consequent on his brother's death—the public were in a fever-heat of exrectatfon to learn whether they cou'td have exised apart. Various were the artifices resorted to by the "specials " to gain a knowledge of this fast, the doctors having sternly declared that they would not admit the press, as it looked like pandering to the morbid appe tite of the public. Medioal students and full-blown doctors with duly " vi.>ei " certificates from othor cities increased to an alarming extent. Hospital porters wero offered premiums to vacate thoir positions for one day only. But all was of no avail; the doctors closed the doors, and the opera tion began. At its conclusion, it was ascertained that the twins could have undergone a successful severance in life. At that interesting moment, or in the de bate which followed, one of the doctors observed an unusually life-like hue upon a subject watting for dissection. But what was his horror, and indeed the horror of them all, as the remark fell from his lips, to observe the corpse suddenly jump up and make for the door. He opened it in time and fled, followed by the enraged doctors. A cab was waiting outside, and into this popped the supposed corpse, to be driven like mad to the railway station, where the complacent special safely arrived with the knowledge that he had made a big "beat."

Christmas Bells.

By all means ring out the Christmas bells. Let our hearts be joyful in this joyful season ; and let us be sure that our bells make harmony and not discord. It is easy to spoil happiness by unseemly in trusion of that Which is untimely. The Apostolic injunction is to weep with those who weep, and rejoice with tho»o who re joice ; but some people have a habit of mixing these things up ; they weep with thoso who rejoice, and rejoice with those who weep. Let us, during tho merry Christ mas-time, forget our sorrow andringoutonly our joy bells. Our own lives will bo all the brighter for tho coming year if we can get tho shadows under our feot for at least a few days. Let us remember that shadows are themselves proof that the sun is shining somewhere, though it may not full upon us. If our hearts are sad, we may do well to step out of the shadow for a little time into the bright light which is only just beyond the spot where we are now nui's'fng somo heartrending sorrow.

THE GARDEN.

(By Hortus).

Calendar of Operations, December.

[ItOUTUS is willing to answer any quori respondonts must give their full n^J" addresses, though not for publication ] ■ .

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

Ground Vinery (R.G. Ponßonbyk-Y., that in writing about the ground vincrvi. 1 given no indication bow to build U_*S_ course I only wanted to draw attention!. S system. Somo time during noxt a.tti. will not only describe how to build,SSSO how to cultivate at somo length f3 however, a full and explicit directs?. Brett's Colonists Guide and CycloSuM Useful Knowledge a book Uiati. .eiHjJI the attention of all liort.cu.turalW§§Jj Giant Leeks (J.B. North Shore). -Th.i. way to grow them is to dig a trench abo-i^ foot deep; put in the bottom plentyot»tf rotted manure and goorl soil; plant thelS in this. As tho leeks grow, earth thorn fi.fi. celery, and give them frequent heavy sJfft with sewage or other liquid inanureTw edible part of a look Is the stem, and anrnS of cultivation which will increase tho |S and circumferenco of that will enh__c«i_ quality. Earthing up will produce tills. Fruit Trbks (1.1., Auckland).—l believe m>. soil is very poor. To counteract this tin* heavy top-dressing of well-rotted nianm.,' each tree. Put iton four or flye inches ls_ antl a good oircuinferenee from cachS Afterwards give a good watering with ]ffi manure. This is the proper time to do it,™ Milmcw on Rosi_ (R.S., Newton)._ The i_ dew should be immediately washed offvff sponge dipped in a mixture made with l_ of soap and 4ozs o£ sulphur to a gallon of __! water. Syringing in towards event.. jS_ then dusting with flowers of sulpha,--' another very good specific. Apn.ytogß__E in a dry state during the day, when tlelS are dry, is also highly recommended. ™

Kitchen Garden.

This season is one of the wetest I havekij I any experience of since I have been i n fc 1 colony ; I only hope that the weather «j| _ be more settled before this reaches a, f' readers. A superabundant growth of weed) 1 has been caused by the moisture. The _« \_\ must almost be kept constantly going J Plant out as soon as possible the main crop '•'*'" of Brussels sprouts, savoy, drumhead cab. T bage, and brocoli; also another lot of celery vjt and leeks. Mako a small sowing of ___];. Ab flower and cabbage in a moist place it, "W-' planting out about the end of January« I. . beginning of February. Look to tomatoa |1 cucumbers, melons, and pumpkins as I directed last week. Continue the earthim, I up of advancing crops. As .some of ffi I earliercrops come off the ground, clear am» II the haulm to the rot heap, and have _» f soil turned up roughly, so that it t may get sweoteuod for future crop; I whatever ground is not wanted for earij T autumn cropping,sow down in maize—rhnl I do f«r late green feed. Make successions! ! sowing of small salidings in moist situation P stake peas and running beans. Make si* 1 cessional sowings of French and the running ! varieties. The prolonged wet weather has I multiplied the slug nuisance; look after, b Flower Garden. 1 In this department the wet weather h.. caused a great number of plants to grtSi luxuriantly, but tho show of flowersinvari ' ably gets spoiled. Pay particular attention' to the pegging and pinching of bedding plants. Flowering shrubs, and other large flowering plants in the mixed borders, w_l| mako a good number of large rank watery shoots; pinch out these as they make their. appoaraneo. Continue the staking and tying-up of tall-growing plants as they ad vance in growth. Lift all springing flowery j bulbs if they be properly rippened off, dry' and store till the planting season comes on. Keep weeds down by constantly hoeing the'/ borders. AValks: Hoe, rake, aud roll The grass will require weekly attention by cutting and rolling. Greenhouse. _ Give occasional watering with weak. liquid manure to strong growing plants.| 3 Pinch and form habit to colour fuchsias, etc. Hard wooded plants, making rapid j new growth, shade when the sun is strong, I and give plenty of water. Give plenty of air. Mulching. Some interesting experiments have been,;1". made in one of the public gardens in France* in what may be termed excessive mulching, that is, covering the soil with some material to prevent evaporation. Ordinary mulching '.■: with straw chips, small stones, and other.'l: materials are often employed to keep down weeds and preserve moisture, and is largely1 ;'; practised in strawberry culture. In Eng- -. land tiles were at one time used for Straw berry beds, but they did not answer well,-; inasmuch as they afforded a comfortable! homo for vermin. They were in pairs, with;;), a semi-circular piece cut from one side of-; each. When put together they surrounded;; the plant completely, the bed being thus:;., closely paved with tlie exception of circular; . openings for the plants. I have heard of V; some experiments with boards similarly. arranged. An American says: "Many.* yeare ago we passed a few hours at Key-;; West Flo., and noticed that the most;: flourishing of tho small gardens or front* yards was covered with a layer of morter or;?:;, cement of some kind ; perhaps, three inches 'M thick, leaving, of course, sufficientopenings;.;;; around each bush, etc. Here were roses t_\ and other flowering shrubs in great perfec-if: tion under a tropical sun, while ihe surface-1 ' covering was swept as clean as a floor. The 9 French experiments were made with market 9 garden crops—carrots, cabbages, lettuces, ■ efrc. Among the articles used to cover the 9b soil was sheet zinc of two kinds mentioned c as white and black. In most cases a largely I increased product was obtained from the i covered as compared with the uncovered. 1 soil; in some instances more than double. M In seeking a cheaper covering material than I zinc, boards were tried with fair success, but the cheapest of all, it is thought, will y be parchment paper. Many are doubtless aware that when unsized paper is dipped for a few seconds in oil of vitriol of the pro- ; per strength and then soaked in water to remove tho acid, the paper is changed in -i appearance and texture ; it becomes tough, waterproof, and greatly resembles parch-.i; ment. Old newspapers thus "parchment- . ised" will, therefore, probably provetobe the _; cheapest material with which to cover the soil. The advantages of covering are— i Ist, greater rapidity of growth ; 2nd, lessen ing of the enormous cost of watering'; 3rd, ' avoidanoe of hard work in weeding ; and, finally, double the crop from uncovered soil.—"American Agriculturist." Here in Auckland the Chinese market gardeners carry on a more systematic croping of their soil by the means of water ing and mulching with nearly new stable manure, than the British reared gardener. By the means of mulching a great number of" the small saiidings, as well as some of other succulent vegetables, could be grown continuously during the summer month with a great deal more case and profit. This is the proper season to mulch most things before the very dry season sets in.

"One-half the world don't know how the other half lives !" exclaimed a gossiping woman a few days ago. "Oh, well,' said her neighbour, "don't worry about it; 'tisn't your fault if they don't know."

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, DECEMBER 22, 1883

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