December 20. 1913 



HOETICULTURE 



865 



Two Totty Chrysanthemum Novelties 



Mrs. Ebnest Wild 



Crajjfobd Pink 



A TALK ON FLOWERS. 



Extracts from a paper read by C. S. Har- 

 rison, before tue Minnesota Horticul- 

 tural Society, at Minneapolis, 

 December, r,)l;j. 



Flowers have become indispensible 

 both in life and in death. The vege- 

 table garden feeds the body, the flower 

 garden feeds the soul. What a con- 

 trast in funerals between the present 

 and the past. Sixty years ago a 

 funeral was the most sombre thing 

 which we could imagine. The coffin 

 was home made, filling the house with 

 the sickening odor of paint and var- 

 nish. Everything black and sombre. 

 This month we laid aw-ay my beloved 

 sister. The room was richly deco- 

 rated with the gifts of friends. Flow- 

 ers on the beautiful casket. Flowers 

 everywhere — emblems of the everlast- 

 ing spring into which she has entered. 

 At the grave what a mass of them! 

 By the modern appliance of lowering 

 the coffin which is covered with beau- 

 tiful blooms it slowly recedes from 

 view, and our last look at the loved 

 one is a vanishing among the choicest 

 things that earth affords. 



Flowers work marvelous transac- 

 tion in character. Some years ago in 

 Chicago I saw a drunken Amazon be- 

 ing taken to prison. Six policemen 

 had all they could do. She was the 

 strongest woman I ever saw. She 

 was making ribbons of some of those 

 fine uniforms. Finally they landed her 

 and she was like a caged tiger in her 

 cell. A quiet little woman saw it all 

 and pitied Wild Mag. She went to a 

 florist and bought a bouquet of fra- 

 grant roses, and they were delicately 

 done up in a nice box with tissue 

 paper. She went to the jail and 



wanted to see Mag. They told her it 

 was no use. She would be torn in 

 pieces. But she went in. The demon 

 woman saw lier and with terrible 

 oaths she said, "You get out of here 

 or I will throw you out." "No," said 

 the visitor. "I love you, Mag." "You 

 lie. there don't anybody love me, the 

 whole world hates me and I hate back 

 again. Now you get out." "Not yet," 

 said the quiet little woman. "See 

 what I have brought you." Tlien she 

 undid her package and when Mag 

 breathed the sweet perfume, and saw 

 those lovely blooms, her woman soul 

 came to her and she wept like a child. 

 "The beauty of the Lord had conquer- 

 ed" and the visitor put her arm around 

 her neck and their mingled tears 

 watered those flowers. 



Interest the boy in the most beauti- 

 ful things the world affords. Don't 

 expect him to get all his education in 

 the barn yard: awaken his interest in 

 the front yard, if you will have a gen- 

 tleman and not a boor. Let the daugli- 

 ter associate with the most beautiful, 

 charming and best dressed compan- 

 ions the world affords and she will 

 be pure and refined. 



Every Family Should Have Their Own 

 Flowers. 



There should be a succession of 

 them — a procession of beauty from 

 early spring until the late frosts of 

 autumn. First come the crocuses, 

 tulips and hyacinths. The columbines 

 are a numerous family and they are 

 very charmin?. They have a marvel- 

 o"« vnr'o*!' of ro^r>r, S^^'^Q are early; 

 others, like the chrysantha, are very 

 late. The great Oriental Poppy is a 



splendor. It is a flame, and a large 

 bed of them is like a miniature sea of 

 fire. Though not satisfactory as cut 

 flowers, they are among the most 

 showy for out of doors. We come to- 

 the Iris, which is the coming flower. 

 First, because in the large collection, 

 of hundreds of varieties there are all 

 the colors of the rainbow and the 

 widest range of beauty of any of the 

 flower family. Some of the newer 

 sorts defy description. Their rich 

 veining and tracery, those delicate 

 tints, the radiant reflex like that of 

 the finest silk, the blending of those 

 harmonious colors, make them peer- 

 less. It is the most heroic flower of 

 all. For two years we have had fear- 

 ful weather. Last summer we had 30 

 days vv'ith the mercury soaring to one- 

 hundred and up. The hot winds were 

 blowing like the blast of death. Peo- 

 nies wilted, phlox fainted, but thoughi 

 we had but two inches of rain in five 

 months the brave Iris never winced. 

 We dig and ship in August. The 

 ground was perfectly dry, but the Iris 

 roots were fleshy and plump. They 

 have the faculty of gathering the mois- 

 ture and holding it. The Japanese are 

 worthless in the West. Let them 

 alone, unless you screen them. The 

 Rhizomatous or the German and 

 closely allied group are fully as beauti- 

 ful and need no coddling either sum- 

 mer or winter. There is an increasing 

 family of the Siberian type. There 

 are 30 kinds in this group and more 

 to follow. These are the tufted varie- 

 ties These flowers are bound to win. 

 Their fascination is resistless. I am 

 a busy man, but when my iris are in 

 bloom I go visiting them, drawn day 

 by day by their matchless beauty andl 



