""In the culture of flowers there cannot, by their very nature, be 

 anything solitary or exclusive* The scholar and the states^ 

 man, men of peace and men of war, have agreed in all ages to 

 delight in gardens/' CHARLES DICKENS. 



FEBRUARY 



(St. Valentine) 



" CLOW and sure comes up the golden year," sings 

 ^ Tennyson, and we may even now feel the spell of 

 Spring's early dawn ! The " long night's black " has gone ; 

 we have listened to the " herald-melodies " of the birds ; 

 we have heard the first lay of the lark in the earlier growing 

 dawns. St. Valentine's Day is past, and to use Chaucer's own 



words 



" Now, welcome, somer, with thy sonne softe, 

 That hast this wintre^s weders over shake, 

 And driven a-wey the longe nyghtes blake ; 

 Seynt Valentyne, that art ful hy on lofte, 

 Thus syngen smale fouls for thy sake." 



Although the age when St. Valentine was honoured by 

 lovers has long passed away, the birds still greet him 

 merrily, and are now supposed to have entered upon house- 

 hold cares. Across the ploughed fields we have heard the 

 partridge calling for a mate, and the rooks have in their 

 " caw " that peculiar accent of the mating season. In and 

 out among the budding branches the finches dart, keeping 

 up an endless twitter; the sparrows frolic and fight among 

 the ivy ; in the fir-branches and among the breaking willows 

 the thrush and blackbird more lustily call. Yet, alas ! all 

 this joyfulness will be checked anon, for the time o' year is 

 but " St. Valentine's Spring " ; there will yet most likely be 

 snow-whitened fields and frosty window-panes; and vegeta- 

 tion, rapidly hastening to greet the Spring, will be doomed 



