's Storj. 



of its sweeter sister, the rosy-cheeked Daphne 

 cneorum, and all the train of expectant flowers ! 



Slowly, yet surely, the hour of the year is ad- 

 vancing. Under the ermine of winter, April's 

 treasures await only the robins' rondeau to call 

 them forth. And what pleasure there is in the 

 anticipation! The swarms of tulips already 

 gathering their forces the dazzling rex rubro- 

 rums, the bizarres, and the tall marbled by- 

 bloems, which look like the old-fashioned silks of 

 our pretty grandmothers. That bank of oxlips, 

 cowslips, and primroses, too " crimson-maroon 

 sparkler," " Danesford yellow hose - in - hose," 

 " lilac pantaloons," and ever so many more in- 

 viting names which you placed along the south 

 garden-wall, what a mass of bloom will not push 

 through the mottled earth ! And that hamper 

 of daffodil-bulbs, sent by a friend in England, 

 what wealth of beaten gold will not unfold from 

 the fragrant petals ! 



Will pallidus prcecox outstrip obvallaris in 

 the race ; and will " golden plover " vie with 

 " golden dragon " ; or can any daffodil, born or 

 yet unborn, excel the glorious bicolor of the 

 Lancashire weaver, John Horsfield? Only, as 

 every rose has its thorn, Horsfieldi has its seri- 

 ous drawback, at least with me, in decreasing in 

 vigor every year. Perhaps it is the fault of soil ; 



