it all kinds of treatment, bottom heat, and no heat, but the results are disastrous."
I saw our finish there and then. There I beheld thousands of cuttings in the benches; every one of them sold at seventy-five dollars per thousand, ready to go on the dumps. In other words, so many dollars were cast into the rubbish heap. It was unfortunate; it was nothing short of a calamity. But what were we to do?
It was still December. We had promised no deliveries until January. There was still a chance to redeem ourselves and our fortune as well. There were plenty of stock plants in sight, with thousands of cuttings to be stripped. Who could tell but that the next lots might behave better? So why despair?
I suggested to Mr. Nelson to cast his gloom aside and to take up the good work of rooting the cuttings. He agreed with me, though I perceived an expression of doubt on his face. I bade Mr. Nelson good-bye, and took my departure for Indianapolis, to return four weeks later when the Carnation show would be in session.
At the Carnation Show
The four weeks passed. The Carnation show was a successful affair. In this respect Indianapolis may pride itself upon its good work. The florists of that enterprising city always work in unison; and whatever they undertake, whether it be a Carnation show in the Spring or a Chrysanthemum show in the Fall, their work is always carried out without a hitch. It would be indeed hard to point out a body of men more progressive and enterprising than the State Society of the Indiana florists in general, and the florists of Indianapolis in particular.
So when the show was opened at Tomilson Hall, everything in sight promised well. The blooms were staged in time, the judges were ready to do their work, visiting florists were scattered about the hall, viewing the magnificent display and making notes about the varieties that caught their fancy. I noticed that E. A. Nelson variety attracted especial attention. The vase of a hundred blooms was indeed a magnificent sight. What a pity that this grand flower should behave so provokingly at a time when the fortunes of two men depended so much upon it!
I well knew that quite a number of growers, practically all the visiting florists, would evince a desire to go out to Mr. Nelson's place and see the variety at its own habitat. And so it happened. That same afternoon about fifty florists went out to Mr. Nelson's place. Some of these men had already placed their orders, others intended to do so. I shall never forget the embarrassment of Mr. Nelson when he was confronted by this large body of his brother florists. Failure and shame invariably go hand in hand. In the same measure that we feel proud of our success we are ashamed of our failures, whether we be responsible for them ourselves or whether they come upon us through a combination of unfortunate circumstances.
The Speculation That Failed
Mr. Nelson that afternoon was borne down by the weight of his failure, and the visit of the florists was very painful to him. Yet he had to face the situation in spite of himself. He took them through the house, and showed them the propagating benches. A glance at the stock sufficed to convince almost everyone of them that the variety was doomed. To the credit of the visitors let it be said, sympathy rather than disgust and condemnation was expressed in every one's face. They saw a fellow member in trouble, and their impulse was to help him. Suggestions flew thick and fast; some thought a little more bottom heat would do the trick, others that no heat at all would save the variety. Others again suggested one kind of sand in preference to another kind. One prominent Chicago grower volunteered to purchase five thousand unrooted cuttings, and root them himself.
