30 State Horticultural Society. 



them, but accept them with unthinking indifference. I thank God often 

 that He permitted me to reaHze the persuasive, silent mission of these 

 messengers from paradise. 



"I love the flowers that come about with spring, 

 And whether they be scarlet, white, or blue, 



It matterett to me not anything ; 



For when I see them bright with sun and dew. 



My heart doth overflow with such delight, 



I know not blue from red, nor red from white." 



Every garden, however small it may be, has within it something of 

 paradise. When the sweet procession of beautiful blossoms comes trip- 

 ping along so gaily in the early springtime, how our hearts rejoice, how 

 glad we are that winter's reign is over, and that we have sunshine^ 

 verdure, and the flower-scented atmosphere again. 



Each sentient and sensitive soul feels renewed in spirit, and wonder.s 

 hov/ it is that the world seems to be growing annually more fascinating, 

 and thinks that the eternal gardens cannot be much fairer than are 

 those here which a beneficent Father has given to his children. 



Nature is very kind to us, much more so than we are to ourselves, 

 or to each other. We ignore her lessons, disobey her laws, and receive 

 her benefits with careless, unthankful hearts. 



With little expense, not a great deal of care, and with no trouble, 

 Ave can have gardens of hardy plants blooming annually, and bringing 

 ioy to our hearts, blessing to our souls, and happiness to every friend 

 who visits us. A judicious selection of perennials will assure more satis- 

 faction than any other form of floriculture. 



When the sun of our life begins to decline, and the hills of light are 

 growing nearer, we begin to care more for the hardy plants, which require 

 little attention, after they are once established, and when we have them 

 we appreciate their value more and more as the years go by. Have 

 you ever noticed how persistently the memory of some beautiful garden 

 or lawn will cling to you until after many years you can close your eyes, 

 and by some occult spiritual sight, see again the beautiful plants you were 

 enraptured with, so many years ago. 



Fully twenty years ago, I was going north from our little city, and 

 saw just at the top of a long hill, a large, old-fashioned southern house, 

 with its wide verandas, and railed-in galleries, over which rioted a pro- 

 fusion of vines, including roses and honey-suckles. The house was set 

 well back from the road, and was reached by a wide driveway which 

 wound betv/een a double row of lilac bushes. The month was April — one 

 of those smiling sunny Aprils we used to have in the long ago — and 

 those bushes were in full flower; each had been trained and trimmed up 



