A garden is a beautiful book, writ by the finger of God ; every 

 flower and every leaf is a letter*** 



DOUGLAS JERROLD. 



FEBRUARY 



" / T~" V HE love of Nature is a great gift," says Sir John 

 ** Lubbock, and one must have somewhat of this love 

 to acknowledge some of the many beauties that the barren 

 land of the Winter season affords. Indeed, there are many 

 things of interest to delight the eye, which are looked for in 

 vain amid the overflowing glories and bountiful floral tributes 

 of Spring, Summer, and Autumn. We need not go far from 

 our homesteads to behold some of them. There is the 

 yellow jasmine {Jasmine nudiflorum\ mentioned before, very 

 beautiful during the winter, and such a favourite with me. 

 In February 



" The yellow jasmine holds a silver jewel 

 Of frost, a bloom to match the rays divine 

 Of sun, whose death tells of the Spring's renewal, 

 The yellow jasmine." 



Note its tender beauty, and take to heart some of its quiet 

 joy. To-day it literally sparkles with yellow stars in the 

 Spring-like sunlight ; notice, too, the graceful interweavings 

 of its leafless stems, and how much is added to its beauty 

 when gathered to the heart of some old wall, tinted with 

 that mellow tone which only the hand of Time can give : it 

 seems to suit so well the softened colours of crusted lichens 

 and mosses that Winter makes visible. These tender greys 

 and greens of mosses and lichens are another of February's 

 possessions : they are lost to the eye, hidden at other seasons 

 by the overwhelming foliage, and like the tint of leaf, their 



