THE FLOWER GARDEN. 



posy to be worn on the christening of the squire's heir, or 

 on my lord's birthday. 



They could discourse without pedantry on the collection 

 of simple and native flowers which composed their un- 

 stinted nosegay, and could quiz their partners in pure 

 Saxon anthology, without having studied printed treatises 

 on the Language of Flowers. No Arab girl knew better 

 how to open her heart by love tokens, than did they how 

 to settle a coxcomb cockney with a bunch of " London- 

 pride;" to roast a quizzical anti-Benedict with a dressing 

 of "bachelor's buttons;" or to mystify some aspiring 

 cornet with a "jackanapes-on- horseback." None better 

 knew, as they flirted on the sunny terraces, or strolled, not 

 unaccompanied, along the arched and shaded alleys, 



" By all those token flowers, that tell 

 What words can never speak as well," 



to hint the speechless misery of a broken and deserted 

 heart, as they culled a sprig of " love-lies-bleeding ;" or 

 to encourage the bashful passion of some ingenuous swain, 

 who dared hardly breathe his youthful aspirings, till gifted 

 with the soothing symbol of a bunch of " heartsease." 



" Heureux 1'aimable botaniste 

 Qui salt jouir de ces douceurs ! " 



The " forget-me-not " is the only real flower of senti- 

 ment descended to these degenerate days, and even this is 

 a wild flower, and has been so overwhelmed with the en- 

 comiums of Annual and Album poets, that its bright blue 

 petals and tiny yellow eye have almost ceased to please 

 beyond the precincts of the boarding-school. 



And now that all our old-fashioned flowers and English 

 names are eschewed for our modern exotics and Latin hen- 

 decasyllables, no one must dare to talk of a garden unless 



