rom the roof. They are close packed certainly, but a
glance at the vivid foliage satisfies even the uninitiated that they have
space enough. Orchids generally are the most accommodating of plants--the
best tempered and the strongest in constitution; and among orchids none
equal the Cypripeds in both respects. It is pleasant to fancy that they
feel gratitude for our protection. Darwin convinced himself that the whole
family is doomed. In construction and anatomy it preserves 'the record of
a former and more simple state of the great orchidaceous family,' now
outgrown. Such survivals are profoundly interesting to us, but Nature does
not regard them kindly. They betray her secrets. All the surrounding
conditions have changed while the Cypriped clings to its antique model--at
least, it has not changed in proportion. Few insects remain, apparently,
adapted to fertilise it and it cannot fertilise itself. In the struggle
for existence, therefore, it is terribly handicapped. Man comes to the
rescue, and no class of orchid accepts his intervention so readily.

It is a pretty house, as I have said. Experienced gardeners have a deep
distrust of pretty houses. Picturesque effect and good culture can seldom
be reconciled; the conditions needed for the one are generally fatal to
the other. But here we have a pleasing exception. All is green and
fresh--no brickwork, nor shelves, nor pipes, nor 'tombstone' labels
obtrude upon the view. The back wall is draped with ferns and creepers,
orchids peeping through here and there. A broad stand down the middle,
accommodating five rows of Cypripediums on either side, has all its
substructures masked with tufa, which bears a mantle of green. The side
stands, each accommodating seven rows of pots, are equally clothed in
verdure, moss and fern. At the end, through a glass partition open in the
centre, is a fountain, with similar stands all round it. And--an essential
point, whereby we understand the glorious health of all these
plants--there is not one which the gardener cannot see perfectly as he
goes by, and reach without an effort, saving those overhead in the middle.
No chance of thrips flourishing unsuspected in this house, nor of slugs
following their horrid appetite from pot to pot unnoticed.

Since it is especially the number of rare 'garden mules' which have won us
renown, I ought perhaps to say a word in passing upon the matter of
hybridisation. But what can be said in a few lines? It is