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Spr!ng*0 promtee 



" The Lady Blanche's daughter where she stood, — 

 Melissa, with her hand upon the lock. 

 A rosy blond, and in a college gown 

 \ That clad her like an April daffodilly." 



Nature is so generous with her spring flowers that we 

 must bear with what patience we may the speed with which 

 these yellow favourites will hide their heads and run away. 

 Knowing full well how much beauty is to follow, one yet 

 feels with Herrick a little lonely when they are gone. We 

 too can say with him, "Fair daffodils, we weep to see you 

 haste away so soon. " But now perhaps, with a deep obei- 

 sance to future bulb catalogues,^ I am to be reminded that the 

 daffodils are, after all, only a kind of narcissi with much 

 bad Latin added to their otherwise romantic names. I bow. 

 I bow meekly, and the less im willingly in that "Narcissus " is 

 no less classic and romantic than Homer's asphodel. If 

 we are, however, to think of the pretty tales of Echo 

 and her lover we must supplant the modem letter "c" 

 with the ancient Greek "kappa" and call our flower- 

 god "Narkissos, " for so it was that he fared on high 

 Olympus. And his love affair with Echo was such a very 

 pretty one. 



Echo, you will remember, was one of the nymphs who 

 attended upon Hera, and not unlike some other nymphs, 

 some modem n3niiphs, she was passingly loquacious. Zeus, 

 of course, soon heard of it and like a perfectly modem gentle- 

 man, put it to immediate use. So you see, when he had a 



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