148 State Horticultural Society. 



— we will not call it lazy — fashion, you can have plenty of sweet peas 

 to grace your own and your neighbor's dining rooms, parlors and guest 

 chambers. 



If you are serving a luncheon, your guests will be charmed to see 

 not only a low mound of these fragrant butterfly blossoms in the center, 

 but also two or three stems for each to wear, and then, besides, if you 

 put on each plate, as the courses are brought in, two or three of the 

 dainty sprays, you will, as hostess, share in the joy of the occasion, as 

 each course causes a wave of pleased surprise to pass round your table. 

 The brilliant orchid-like nasturtiums, as also the sweet peas, illustrate 

 another case of oft-abused blossoms. Partly because of their own abun- 

 dance, we gather too many into one bunch. Again, we need to remember 

 to use the foliage. You will perhaps complain that the nasturtium 

 leaves wither too easily, but not so if you will pick a piece of the thick 

 stem with its cluster of leaves. Moreover, they are prettier this way, 

 because you have different sizes and different shades of green. The leaves, 

 too, are a nice change with salad instead of lettuce, and a single bright 

 blossom adds spice of color and of taste. 



Cosmos and aster are the best annuals to give us late flowers. 

 Gladioli and tuberoses of the bulbs blossom also later in the summer; 

 the latter continue into the fall, and have the praiseworthy habit of 

 increasing each year in number so that you may make gifts of the bulbs to 

 friends. 



After the early bulbs cease blooming is a good time to get some 

 geraniums and salvias to supply constant color to your bed, and Mar- 

 guerites and feverfews to give some white for your nosegays all simimer. 



The monthly roses now begin their round of bloom. The same 

 bushes will stand for years, and it is good to have them, and the annuals 

 as well, opening their buds each year in the same part of the yard. Such 

 spots become more and more dear to us with the delight of each returning 

 season. The anticipation, the hopes realized, the ever new revelations 

 strengthen our attachment to the dear home place. Again we hear 

 Richard Jeffries saying, "I do not want change ; I want the same old 

 and loved things, the same wild flowers, the same trees and soft ash 

 green; the turtle doves, the black birds — and I want them in the same 

 old place. Let me watch the same succession year by year. * * * 

 For faces fade as flowers, and there is no consolation. So now I am 

 sure I was right in always walking the same way by the starry flowers." 

 Even my dear Miss Case, teacher of humdrum Latin, has felt this joy, 

 for she writes, 'There is one spot, by the way, as one walks toward 

 the village where for a brief time in May the thick green grass is crowded 

 with clusters of enormous dandelions. My joy in their gorgeous beauty 



