OLD-FASHIONED FLOWERS 



of Paradise. The Peonies, who have drunk their imprudent 

 fill of the sun, burst with enthusiasm and bend forward to 

 meet the coming apoplexy. The Scarlet Flax traces a blood- 

 stained furrow that guards the walks; and the Portulaca, or 

 Sun-plant, the wealthy cousin of the Purslane, creeping like 

 a moss, studies to cover with mauve, amber or pink taffeta the 

 soil that has remained bare at the foot of the tall stalks. The 

 chub-faced Dahlia, a little round, a little stupid, carves out of 

 soap, lard or wax his stiff and formal pompons, which will 

 be the ornament of the village holiday. The old, paternal 

 Phlox, standing amid the clusters, lavishes the loud laughter 

 of his jolly, easy-going colours. The Mallows, or Lavateras, 

 like demure misses, feel the pale pink of mantling blushes 

 mount to their corollas at the slightest breath. The Nas- 

 turtium paints his water-colours, or screams like a parakeet 

 climbing the bars of its cage; and the Garden Mallow, Althaea 

 Rosea, Hollyhock, Jacob's Rod, riding the high horse of her 

 many names, flaunts her cockades of a flesh silkier than a 

 maiden's breasts. The Snapdragon and the almost trans- 

 parent Balsam are more timorous and awkward and fearfully 

 press their flowers against their stalks. 



Next, in the discreet corner of the old families, are 



[185] 



