MJce * Mo&cr (S^rJen 



fastidious about their location and snobbishly bloom- 

 ing less. But I bow the knee to their white and 

 lavender crowns and carefully save the seed, of which 

 they are rather sparing, acknowledging in my heart 

 their really imperial loveliness. 



Mourning Bride 



When I was a child I thought the mourning 

 bride the most romantic of flowers, because of the 

 name and our not having any in our own home gar- 

 dens ; in order to see them I had to make a pilgrimage 

 across the railroad tracks to visit an old bride who 

 had been mourning her husband for about fifty years. 

 (Another reason I enjoyed going to visit this ancient 

 gardener was because she was the only perfectly bald 

 lady I had ever seen or heard of, but I think raising 

 the flowers had nothing to do with this peculiarity.) 

 Since I've grown up, the flowering mourning 

 brides' sorrow has been, mitigated ; they have put on 

 half-mourning of lavender, and sometimes appear 

 garbed in white and pink like unwedded young girls. 

 I love the new widows who are perking up and taking 

 notice again, yet I still save my greatest admiration 

 for those inconsolable blossoms which remain true to 

 their memories while robed in funeral dress. 

 27 



