A HOMELY WEED 25. 



SO lovely an object as a flower, but certain it is 

 that this every- day contact or association, espe- 

 cially with the wild things of the wood, meadow, 

 and way-side, is conducive to an apathy which 

 dulls our sense to their actual attributes of beauty. 

 Many of these commonplace familiars of the copse 

 and thicket and field are indeed like voices in the 

 wilderness to most of us. We forget that the 

 " weed " of one country often becomes a horticult- 

 ural prize in another, even as the mullein, for 

 which it is hard for the average American to get 

 up any enthusiasm, and which is tolerated with us 

 only in a worthless sheep pasture, flourishes in 

 distinction in many an English or Continental 

 garden as the "American velvet plant." 



The extent of our admiration often depends 

 upon the relative rarity of the flower rather than 

 upon its actual claims to our appreciation. The 

 daisy which whitens our meadows — the "pesky 

 white-weed " of the farmer — we are perfectly will- 

 ing to see in the windrows of the scythe or tossed 

 in the air by the fork of the hay - maker. The 

 meed of our appreciation of the single blossom 

 becomes extremely thin when spread over a ten- 

 acre lot. How rarely do we see a bouquet of 

 daisies on a country table ? And yet, strange in- 

 consistency! the marguerite of our goodwife's 

 window -garden, almost identical with the daisy 

 and not one whit prettier, is a prize, because it 



