GARDENING BY MYSELF. 



173 



"■ That will never be a rose-colored tulip," 

 said my sister, watching it from her seat by 

 the fire. But as the days went on, the little 

 white tulip began to blush. It could hardly 

 be (in this age of the world) for being look- 

 ed at ; but blush it did ; and the sweet rosy 

 colour grew and spread and deepened, till 

 my tulip was all warm and flushed like a 

 child awaked from sleep. 



Little gold-striped Van Thol is very good 

 too, — bright and sonsy and " peart/' as our 

 freedmen say. 



Slowly, while all this goes on (it is last 

 winter, in my study, you understand), a blue 

 La Peroiise hyacinth has lifted its head from 

 the brown soil and the green leaves ; and 

 now as one waxy bell after another takes 

 colour and shape, you ask if there was ever 

 anything quite so fair ? Yes, Lord Anson fol- 

 lows, bating no jot of his rosy pretensions; 

 and the white Emietis, and the pale yellow 

 Pluie d'Or, lose nothing by having to follow 

 instead of to lead. 



1 do not generally plant my finest bulbs 

 IS* 



