90 STATE POMOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 



isolated, bring comfort and cheer to the suffering and 

 give consolation to the mourner. But their best mission seems 

 to be to the poor who do not have them. They are silent messages 

 from truth's own hand, messages which cannot be evaded or con- 

 tradicted, which lift, purify and strengthen for better thinking and 

 living. They are gifts that do not cost a great deal. Nature fur- 

 nishes sunshine, dewdrops, soil and rain, a little of our time and 

 effort and it is done. Flowers have a mission as mementos. For 

 when we place one of these "green things growing," bear it in mind 

 that it may be for the years when we are not. Perhaps our children's 

 children may point them out as grandpa's roses or grandma's lilies 

 long after the hand that set them has crumbled to dust. They will 

 therefore help to keep alive a memory of us in the minds of those 

 who come after us. How many desolate, brown old farm houses 

 have been made to look perfectly beautiful by the thoughtful, 

 beauty-loving women of the household. How cool and delightful 

 that south window with the grape vine running over it. How bright 

 those hardy roses on either side the walk. Oh, flowers areso rest- 

 ful and helpful! On some warm afternoon, when our mothers 

 begin our seams without a knot in the thread, it woi:'t sta}' in the 

 needle, the scissors hide and then the spool rolls off under the 

 lounge, laying all aside let's go out for a visit in the garden, pull a 

 few weeds here, break off a discolored leaf there, admire them» 

 enjoy their fine coloring and tinting, then go back and we shall gen- 

 era ly find all the other things in regulation order. They have a mis- 

 sion in helping to preserve to us great moral truths. It is said in 

 legend, that underneath the cross at the crucifixion, all around were 

 blooming pure white flowers. When He said "It is finished" one 

 drop of blood fell upon one white flower. It instantly took on a 

 purple hue and all the surrounding flowers as well. They 

 called that one the Passion flower. Who can ever look 

 again upon this flower without remembering the Passion of 

 Christ and all it means to suffering humanity. Another beautiful 

 legend saj s that one day the Heather was placed in the valley 

 alone, and chancing to look upon the bleak and bare mountainside, 

 was troubled, for in the valley there was so much brightness and 

 none on the mountain. The Heather approached the Rose with 

 words of persuasion, to the end tha' it go up there; but the Rose 

 was too comfortable and would not ; neither would the Lily, or any 

 other flower. At last, in discouragement, the Heather exclaimed : 



