" Thy sylvan loveliness .is-pure and strong, 

 For thou art bright and yet not overbold — 

 Like a young maid apart from fashion's throng — 

 A virgin dowered with a heart of gold." 



In Tacoma, with snow-clad moun- 

 tains gleaming in tiie distance, the 

 yellow roses blossom in riotous pro- 

 fusion, clambering up to the roof trees, 

 peering into the windows as they pass. 

 In California, roses grow in such num- 

 bers and such beauty that a " Tourna- 

 ment of Roses " is one of the annual 

 festivals of the State. 



It is in that climate, blessed with 

 almost eternal summer, that stranger 

 roses from distant lands bloom almost 

 as freely as in their own home. The 

 pale La France, the delicate Noisette, 

 may be gathered in Lower California 

 almost any month in the year. 



With thorns, we expect the rose to 

 defend herself, but with shadows — 

 shall she have a shadow too? 

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