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Winter Gardens.

T will be a very great pity to pull down the Crystal
Palace, in my opinion. What a fine opportunity does
it present of forming for this great metropolis a Winter
Garden. Winter gardens, so far as I know, exist only in
Prussia. In Potsdam there is one, that of M. Vorght,

very good and very highly kept, but at Berlin there are four. M. Terchmann's, in the Thiergarten; Faust and George's, both within the town walls; and Moeve's, on the Potsdam road. The original of these gardens was established by M. Bouché soon after the general peace, but the leading establishment is now M. Terchmann's. These gardens are simply large green-houses, or what would be called in England orangeries, with paved floors, a lofty ceiling, plastered like that of a room, and upright windows in front. The air is heated by stoves, which are supplied with fuel from behind. On the floor are placed here and there large orange trees, myrtles, and various New Holland plants in boxes. The plants are mostly such as have a single stem, of at least three or four feet in height, and round the stem and over the boxes a table is


formed by properly contrived boards, so that the tree appears to be growing out of the centre of the table. These tables, which are sometimes round and sometimes square, are for the use of guests, either to take refreshments or for pamphlets and newspapers Sometimes on each table there is a circle of handsome odoriferous plants, such as hyacinths, narcissuses, mignonette, &c., in pots round the stem of the plant; in other cases there is no table, but the box is covered with handsome flowering plants; and in some parts of the floor one handsome tree is surrounded by several smaller trees and plants, so as to form a mass or clump of verdure and flowers, such as we see in the pleasure grounds. The flowers which are generally found in these Winter Gardens throughout the season are hyacinths, narcissuses, ranunculuses, tulips, crocuses, heaths, roses, camellias, acacias, and others of the same kinds. There are also various climbers, and sometimes even fruit trees, the latter both in flower and fruit.

The proprietors of these gardens have generally small forcing stoves for the purpose of bringing forward and keeping up their supplies. It is almost needless to say that in these gardens or orangeries there are plenty of seats and small moveable tables, and generally music; a reciter of poetry, a reader, or lecturer, or some other person or party to supply vocal or intellectual entertainment. In the evening the whole is illuminated, and on certain days of the week the music and illuminations are on a grand scale.

If you enter these gardens in the morning during the winter season, you will find old gentlemen with spectacles reading the newspapers, taking chocolate, and talking politics; after three o'clock you see ladies and gentlemen, and people of every description, sitting among the trees, talking or reading, and with various beverages before them. When the audience leaves the theatre, you will find in M. Faust's garden a great many well-dressed persons of both sexes, who look in there before they go home to see the beauty of vegetation when brilliantly illuminated by artificial light. I saw no garden in England, Scotland, or Ireland that could compare to these Winter Gardens; but if the Crystal Palace could be appropriated to something of this kind, or a part of the materials of it could be taken for such a purpose, it would be one of the most delightful things for London, and I feel almost certain that it would pay the speculators. There is nothing Peter Parley would like better than to meet his young Christmas holiday friends in such a place; and he will promise them, should his old frame hang together 80 long, to dance Sir Roger de Coverley, or any other good oldfashioned dance, with them among the oranges.


The Month of April.

“Next came forth April, full of lusty hed,

And wanton as a kid whose horne new buds.
Upon a bull he rode, the same which led

Europa floating through the Argolic fluds ;
His horns were gilden all with golden studs-

All garnished with garlands goodly dight
Of all the fairest flowers and freshest buds
Which the earth brings forth; and wet he seemed in sight
With waves, through which he waded for his love's delight.”


O sayeth old Spenser, the rare old poet, one stanza of whose poetry is worth volumes of the maudlin stuff written by the modern small-beer poets. So the old poet sayeth of April, which is so called from the Latin Aprilis, a word derived from the word

aperire, to open. The allusion is easily understood. April is the moist and budding month, nourished with alternate rain and sunshine. March was like an honest, blustering servant, bring


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