There cannot be a more natural looking flower than the last described, if modelled neatly, and well in regard to colour; at the same time, I must remind my pupils that none can look worse if badly executed.
Having now submitted what I consider a fair selection from spring flowers, I will proceed to those which we may observe at a later period, commencing with the rhododendron. This is one of a class of flowers which I admire most particularly in nature, and also find extremely useful in an artistic point of view. Its form is peculiarly eligible in grouping, and its value increased from the fact, that it is cultivated at the present time in such great varieties of shades and colours. I do not know that I can experience a greater treat than to visit the Botanical Gardens, Regent's Park, when their show of American plants is on view; and I would recommend my pupils to devote some time to perfect themselves in flowers that afford such great variety; and as instruction as to the formation of one conveys the same for all, except as to varying the colour, I do not feel that I could choose a more advantageous specimen of floriculture for imitation.
LILAC RHODODENDRON.
Danger.
"All are for use—for health—for pleasure given:—
All speak, in various ways, the bounteous hand of Heaven."
Charlotte Smith.
Cut the petals in white wax; chose it rather thick, but not the double wax. It is formed with two pieces, and yet when united it appears as if there were five petals. The colour is produced in any shade of lilac by mixing my bright crimson, middle blue, and a small portion of white together. This is laid on round the edge upon both sides with a large brush. When perfectly dry, the colour is partly taken off by passing a moist brush containing very little colour over the whole. This carries off the rough portion of the paint previously applied, and gives the petals a soft and shaded appearance. Press the curling pin up the centre of each point, and pinch against it so as to form a distinct seam. Roll the head of the pin down each side of the seam, which will occasion the edges of the petal to look a little crumpled. Unite the petals neatly together, making a small plait between each. Form the pistil of double wax: thicken it at the end to represent the stigma. The stamina are produced by folding the end of a sheet of wax so as to produce the same appearance as a hem in muslin, and cut ten fine filaments for each flower (the hem represents the anthers). Colour the pistil and stamina pale pink: darken the end of the pistil to a deep crimson. Touch the ends of the stamina with a sable brush moistened with brown (crimson powder, orange powder, and cake sepia); while wet, dip them into farina (produced by mixing my lemon powder with white, quite dry). Cut a piece of wire, three inches long, middle size: pass a small piece of light green wax round the end, and double the wire down; then attach the pistil to it, and place the stamina round, taking care that the pistil rises above the stamina. The centre petal of each flower is dotted with brown, the same colour previously used for the anthers. The stem is passed through the centre of the corolla, pressing the edges of the latter neatly to the wire. It is one of those flowers that has not a calyx attached close to the flower, but is shaded lightly round the end with a crimson brush. The flowers are mounted in clusters, varying in number: seven form a pretty size. When the flowers are united, a cluster of small points of very light green wax are placed: these are what are termed by botanists, "calyx involucre," signifying that such calyx is remote from the flower. Place three or four leaves round the stem, a short distance from where the flowers are united.
Another of the American plants useful in grouping, is the