was fixed, with pin-holes twelve inches apart, and a length of
indiarubber hose at the end to fix upon the "stand-pipe." Attaching
this, I turn the cock, and from each tiny hole spurts forth a jet, which
in ten minutes will lay the whole floor under water, and convert the
house into a shallow pond; but five minutes afterwards not a sign of the
deluge is visible. Then I felt the joys of orchid culture. Much remained
to learn--much still remains. We have some five thousand species in
cultivation, of which an alarming number demand some difference of
treatment if one would grow them to perfection. The amateur does not
easily collect nor remember all this, and he is apt to be daunted if he
inquire too deeply before "letting himself go." Such in especial I would
encourage. Perfection is always a noble aim; but orchids do not exact
it--far from that! The dear creatures will struggle to fulfil your
hopes, to correct your errors, with pathetic patience. Give them but a
chance, and they will await the progress of your education. That chance
lies, as has been said, in the general conditions--the degree of
moisture you can keep in the air, the ventilation, and the light. These
secured, you may turn up the books, consult the authorities, and
gradually accumulate the knowledge which will enable you to satisfy the
preferences of each class. So, in good time, you may enjoy such a thrill
of pleasure as I felt the other day when a great pundit was good enough
to pay me a call. He entered my tiny Odontoglossum house, looked round,
looked round again, and turned to me. "Sir," he said, "we don't call
this an amateur's collection!"

I have jotted down such hints of my experience as may be valuable to
others, who, as Juvenal put it, own but a single lizard's run of earth.
That space is enough to yield endless pleasure, amusement, and indeed
profit, if a man cultivate it himself. Enthusiast as I am, I would not
accept another foot of garden.[1]