CHAPTER XV. 



THE HYACINTH. 



Has any person ever seen a vulgar-looking flower ? 

 It is customary, I know, to call weeds vulgar; but 

 that is an idle distinction, not adn:iissible by any 

 florist, to say nothing of botanists ; because some 

 of the most exquisitely elegant of the race are 

 trodden under our feet on the heaths, and plucked 

 by children from the way-side hedge-row. Is the 

 daisy vulgar '! no, that " wee, modest, crimson-tip- 

 ped flower" has been sung into importance. Is 

 the poppy ? Why, if the common single species, 

 that waves its loose petals among our corn, were 

 introduced as a rare exotic, crowds would press to 

 examine and to eulogize the depth of its splendid 

 tint, with the singular mixture of jet black, so rare 

 among the flowers. The dandelion, scornfully ex- 

 pelled from our gardens, is a minature sun, with 

 its radiating petals of bright gold : and thus 

 through every family of every tribe may be traced 

 the workings of a skill that cannot be ungraceful. 

 However, I willingly admit that some flowers 

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