Old Flower Favorites 165 



not breathe and live in his presence, others have an 

 equal love of human companionship. The white 

 Clover clings here to our pathway as does the Eng- 

 lish Daisy across seas. And in our garden Ladies' 

 Delights and Ambrosia tell us, without words, of 

 their love for us and longing to be by our side ; 

 just as plainly as a child silently tells us his love 

 and dependence on us by taking our hand as we 

 walk side by side. There is not another gesture 

 of childhood, not an affectionate word which ever 

 touched my heart as did that trustful holding 

 of the hand. One of my children throughout his 

 brief life never walked by my side without clinging 

 closely — I think without conscious intent — with 

 his little hand to mine. I can never forget the affec- 

 tion, the trust of that vanished hand. 



I find that my dearest flower loves are the old 

 flowers, — not onlv old to me because I knew them 

 in childhood, but old in cultivation. 



" Give me the good old weekday blossoms 

 1 used to see so long ago, 

 With hearty sweetness in their bosoms, 

 Ready and glad to bud and blow." 



Even were they newcomers, we should speedily 

 care for them, they are so lovable, so winning, so 

 endearing. If I had seen to-day for the first time a 

 Fritillaria, a Violet, a Lilac, a Bluebell, or a Rose, 1 

 know it would be a case of love at first sight. But 

 with intimacy they have grown dearer still. 



The sense of long-continued acquaintance and 

 friendship which we feel for many garden flowers 



