THE FLOKAL WORLD AND GAEDEN GUIDE. 43 



don'fc eat flowers, do they ?" " Why, not exactly," says our friend, 

 " but you will soon see what he means ;" and straightway he^ turns 

 to a row of glasses full of cut flowers, and after stripping ofl" some 

 sweet-scented geranium leaves for a background, he adds to them 

 little bunches of perhaps six or seven flowers ; no two bunches are 

 alike — the prevailing colour of one is yellow, another scarlet, etc. ; 

 but they have one thing in common — each contains a sweet-scented 

 flower — heliotrope, mignonette, violets, etc., so that they are real 

 nosegays; and when made, a small oval piece of writing paper is 

 placed at the back of each, and the whole are trimmed into shape 

 with the scissors, and laid in a basket. How pretty they look I One 

 of these is placed on the plate of each guest when dessert is served, 

 and certainly will look as neat and sweet as anything on the table. 

 But the day is getting on, and customers come thick and fast. " A 

 bouquet for a little girl three years old. She will be dressed in blue 

 and white, and the flowers must be a good contrast." Camellias for 

 the hair — Mignonette for a sick friend — plants for the dinner-table, 

 the sitting-room window, the drawing-room, the greenhouse — plants 

 and flowers for presents to parents and friends, and to a "nearer 

 one still and a dearer one yet than all others ;" and ere evening sets 

 in, a tall elderly lady comes, and her voice trembles as she asks for 

 " a few white flowers to put into the coflin of a little child," and the 

 hand of our friend trembles as he gathers them, for he also has had 

 to mourn for " the little girls that died." And now 'tis evening, 

 and what a clearance has been made ! Flowers of one flock in the 

 morning, where are ye now ? The white Camellia is in the hair ot 

 the brunette, the red one blushes with the blonde ; some have glad- 

 dened the invalid, while others will add grace and beauty to the ball 

 room and the festive board. One group at least will be shortlived, 

 for placed on the high altar, amid the heat and glare of twice fifty 

 candles — alas, my pretty Ericas, not even the odour of sanctity will 

 save your lives. But wherever they have gone they will perform 

 their mission, for " the language of flowers" has no need to be 

 taught in books : it is understood in all lands, by sage and savage, 

 bond and free ; and whether woven in the hair of the Indian girl, or 

 grouped in the parterres of " the stately homes of England," or 

 laid with loving hands on the bosom of the "not lost, but gone 

 before," they proclaim by their ininntable loveliness, "The hand 

 that made us is divine." Elowers stand side by side with the palm 

 branch, and wherever they go are emblems of peace and love : — 



Ye ai'e charmed, ye are charmed, and your fragrant sigh 

 Is health to the bosom on which ye die." 



Eloka. 



