THE ETHICS OF HORTICULTURE. 215 



bloom, and having a great abundance he brought a large quantity to 

 distribute. They were accepted by girls and boys with rapturous de- 

 light, and ever after they looked upon flowers as sacred things and their 

 blooming was watched with an intensity of interest. 



Years ago in one of our cities there was a woman who was an 

 Amazon in wickedness. She was a most desperate character. It took 

 half a dozen policemen to arrest her. Her huge hand, like the paw 

 of a bear, soon made a fine uniform rags. One day she had been 

 worse than ever. It seemed as if all the resources of power were ex- 

 hausted, and she only grew worse and worse. She seemed to hate her 

 own sex also, and often sent them from her presence with most violent 

 language. In one of the asylums was a quiet and saintly matron who 

 had a most intense desire to see and help the poor wayward creature. 

 Hearing she had been arrested again, she begged a chance to see her. 

 They said it would be madness, that she would be torn in pieces. 

 Preparing a beautiful bouquet of flowers, she insisted on going into 

 her cell. She found her an object of terror. Her countenance was 

 distorted with rage, and her eyes blazed with such fierceness the jan- 

 itor was glad to get out of their range. Nothing daunted, our good 

 lady went up to her with tears of pity in her eyes and said: ''My 

 poor sister, I am so sorry you have such sore trouble. I bring you 

 these flowers." " You call yourself my sister. How is this?" "We 

 have the same Brother, his name is Jesus, and of course we are sisters; 

 and see these flowers." Flowers and love prevailed, and for the first 

 time in years she wept. Pier woman-soul came back again. 



The farmer should be also a horticulturist. It belongs to him to 

 beautify the fairest lands on earth. Many a man has made his home 

 yard a cattle-pen and a pig-sty. Everything must bend to beef and 

 pork. The family have no rights which the hog and steer are bound 

 to respect. That ground about the house might be adorned with su- 

 preme loveliness. A clump of evergreens here and of flowering 

 shrubs there, graceful walks and well kept beds of flowers — an at- 

 tractive instead of a repulsive home. Many a noble woman with love 

 for the beautiful has died under the slow martyrdom of ugliness. 

 Deformity where harmony should prevail. Home made so repulsive 

 the children cannot and will not stay. The home, which should be a 

 bower of beauty, becomes a weariness and detestation. We mourn 

 the exodus from the country into the city where people climb over 



