THIS remarkably pretty creeper is known in gardens as Tropoelum canariense, but its recognised botanical name is T. aduncum, or, in the older books, T. peregrinum. The first and commonest name suggests that it is a native of the Canary Islands, and it may indeed have come to us from thence, but its home as a wilding is New Granada. The yellow colour may justify the name, for not only is the canary-bird yellow, but canary wine is of a golden hue; and as the Canary Islands were the "Fortunate Isles" of the ancients, we may suppose them to be--as Dick Whittington expected to find London streets--paved with gold. Strange to say, if the case is considered philologically, a Canary Isle is an Isle of Dogs, for Juba so named one of the group because of the large canine animals he found there, as he named another of them Nivaria, the Snow Island, because it is crowned with the peak that is now called Teneriffe, which at times is capped with snow. It is proper to remark, however, that not only is the flower before us of a canary colour, but it bears some resemblance to a bird, and in this respect is as curious in its mimicry as any of the orchids. Its second name refers to the hooked termination of the nectary; and its third name indicates that it is a wanderer, a happy vagabond, a plant that loves to climb the wall and tumble over in the next garden, or, if it gets hold of the trellis next the summer-house, will stretch and pull and clamber until it can peep in at the little window and say "How d'ye do?" at the very moment when you don't want to be disturbed. But this Peregrinum must be allowed to indulge in its peregrinations, for the joy of the thing is its rampant, rambling, and ill-regulated ambition to overstep every-thing and everybody.

We miss here one of the prominent characteristics of the tropaeolums, the leaves of which are mostly circular and peltate and like a buckler, while the flower is like a helmet, and thus together they constitute a trophy, or tropaeum. The canary creeper has five-lobed leaves and bird-like flowers, and a style of growth that separates it from the typical tropaeolums. Its rapidity of growth is remarkable, as also is its tendency to be eaten up by the little mite known as the "red spider," when hot, dry weather has prevailed a few weeks. Like the general run of vagabonds, it is not particular about its life-conditions, and having no stamina, it soon breaks down when things go wrong.

The uses of such plants are many. The peculiar light green leafage, dotted with yellow flowers, renders this very distinct amongst the fast-growing trellis and bower plants that love to climb high and toss gay garlands in the air. The canary creeper may be used with effect to clothe low-growing trees of spare habit, as it will soon run up into the midst of them and make them gay with golden streamers. Care should be taken never to carry this sort of gardening too far, because a valueless creeper, that lives but a few months at the most, should not be allowed to injure a tree that has perhaps a lease of a century to honour by profitable occupation of the ground.

The plant before us is a half-hardy annual, and is therefore grown from seeds that are, in the first instance, protected from the weather, and afterwards planted out. The best way to raise all such plants is to sow the seed in the spring on a gentle hotbed in light, rich, and rather fine soil, and when the plants are large enough to handle, to prick them out two or three inches apart in boxes filled with similar mellow soil, or to pot them separately in small pots. In any case, when thus transferred from the seed-pan they should be nursed under glass for a time in a greenhouse or frame, and be gradually hardened by exposure to the air, to prepare them for planting out. The time of sowing and the details of management must, in some degree, be determined by the nature of the plant. It is not too early to sow seed in February in some cases, but in others March and April are early enough. In the case of the canary creeper, it is folly to sow before April, because the plant grows rapidly when put out, and it is troublesome if it grows to some size previously. For filling the seed-pans and the boxes in this preliminary culture, a mixture of mellow loam, old hotbed dung rotted to powder, equal parts, with a half part of silver sand, will answer perfectly. It should be free from worms, and moist enough without being wet--in fact, a good test of a potting compost is that it may be handled without soiling the fingers. Where there is no accommodation for raising half-hardy annuals under glass, the seed may be sown where the plants are required in the open ground, but this should not be done until the end of April.

In the "Loves of the Plants," by the elder Darwin, the tropaeolum is the subject of a fanciful description, in which the poet contrives to inform us that the flower has eight stamens and one pistil, and that it occasionally emits flashes of phosphoric light:-

"Ere the bright star which tends the morning sky

Hangs o'er the flushing east his diamond eye,

The chaste Tropaeo leaves her secret bed;

A saint-like glory trembles round her head;

Eight watchful swains along the lawns of night

With amorous steps pursue the virgin light;

O'er her fair form the electric lustre plays,

And cold she moves amid the lambent blaze.

So shines the glow-fly when the sun retires,

And gems the night air with phosphoric fires;

Thus o'er the marsh aerial lights betray

And charm the unwary wanderer from his way."