Of the ferns, I have found several varieties exceptionally satisfactory. A little Boston, costing only twenty-five cents when bought for a small table decoration four or five years ago, and changed from one pot to another as growth demanded, today is five feet in diameter,—and the despair of the family on account of the room it requires. It has always stood near either an east or a west window during the winter, in a furnace-heated, gas-lighted house, and been moved to a north porch during the summer. This type needs considerable moisture, and does best when watered every day. I have even seen it growing in a large basket placed in a pan of water. The leaves of this group must be kept clean, and I wash mine occasionally with a small cloth and warm water, using a little soap and then rinsing, if I discover any trace of scale,—that little hard-shelled, brown pest often found on both stems and leaves.
Both of the asparagus ferns,—the plumosus and the Sprengeri, I have grown from tiny pots until they became positively unwieldy, by giving about the same kind of treatment. None of these should be allowed to dry out, as they then turn brown and wither. The asparagus plumosus can be either pinched back to keep as a pot plant, or encouraged to grow as a vine. The asparagus Sprengeri is especially valuable for boxes and baskets, on account of its long, drooping sprays, and if allowed to develop naturally during the summer, should be well covered with its lovely berries at Christmas time.
The holly fern is especially beautiful, while also quite hardy and—to its advantage—not so common as the varieties already mentioned. Several small specimens found planted at the base of a Christmas poinsettia were afterwards set out in small pots, and grew with surprising rapidity. They stood the dry heat of a steam-heated house, and kept a lovely glossy green when other plants were seriously affected.
Fern dishes are frequently filled with the spider ferns, though often combined with the others mentioned. On a certain occasion, when a neglected fern dish had to be discarded, I discovered in the center a tiny plant still growing that looked so hardy I decided to repot it. It grew and, to my surprise, soon developed into an attractive little kentia palm, now three or four years old and eighteen inches high. I think that one reason the ordinary fern dish does not last long is that it is kept on table or sideboard all the time, too far away from the light. Often, too, it is not properly watered. If every morning after breakfast it were sprinkled in the sink, and then set near a window, though not in the sun, it would soon be getting too big for its quarters, and need dividing. It is well to remember that the container is shallow and holds very little earth, hence its roots are in danger of drying out.
All these ferns mentioned I have seen grown repeatedly, under varying conditions, in a furnace-heated house as well as a steam-heated apartment; and with a reasonable amount of light, and water enough to keep them thoroughly moist, I have had them green and beautiful the year around.
Palms and the popular foliage plants can be grown satisfactorily with little or no sunlight. The kentia palm before mentioned is one of the very hardiest, and will thrive where few others will grow. Both the cocoanut and date varieties can be easily grown from seed,—an interesting experiment. None of them require any particular treatment. A place by a north or east window will suit them perfectly; they will stand a temperature of forty-five degrees at night; but they do require plenty of water, and cleanliness of leaf. Water them as the earth becomes dry, but do not leave standing in half-filled jardinieres, (as people often do,) as much soaking spoils the soil. A good plan for plants of this class is to set them in a pail of warm water and leave for a few hours or over night, about once a week, and then when they become dry in between times, pour water enough around the roots to wet thoroughly.
The rubber plant grows quickly compared with the palm, and requires very little attention. It does best in good soil, and thrives on being set in a half shady place outdoors during the summer. One that I have watched for four years has stood during the winter near a west window, only a few feet from a steam radiator. It would get quite dry at times, but never seemed to be affected at all. When a plant gets too tall for a room, and looks ungainly, make a slanting cut in the stem at the height desired, slip in a small wedge, and wrap the place with wet sphagnum moss, which must be then kept wet for several weeks. When you find a lot of new roots coming through this wrapping, cut off just below the mass and plant the whole ball in a pot with good soil. Keep in a shady place for a few days, and in a short time you will have two nice, well-shaped plants instead of the single straggly one.
A group of three long, slender-leaved plants are the next of those easily grown for their foliage. The hardiest is the aspidistra, with its drooping dark green leaves, each coming directly from the root stalk, and it will stand almost any kind of treatment. From one plant costing a dollar and a half five years ago, I now have two that are larger than the original and have given away enough for five more. It has an interesting flower, too,—a wine-colored, yellow-centered, star-shaped blossom that pushes up through the earth just enough to open, and which often is hidden by the mud of excessive watering.
The pandanus produces long, narrow leaves from one center stem, and can be bought in plain green, green and white or green and yellow. It needs good drainage, but takes a rich soil and plenty of water. It stands exceedingly well the dust, dryness and shade of an ordinary living-room, so is a valuable addition to any collection of houseplants. It is easily multiplied by using the suckers as cuttings.