EVERT W03fAN HER OWN FLOWER GARDENER, 121 



So we plead for the " flowers of the poets." They are all of easy cul- 

 tivation, requiring little care, and blooming in endless profusion and 

 beauty, and possessing a charm and loveliness fully equal to those which 

 their modern sisters lay claim to. 



To be sure the Tiger Lily, which was supposed to be the 



" Emblem of human pride that fades away, 

 Of earthly joy that blooms but to decay,'' 



has been forced to feel the truth of the lines, and vacate its high estate 

 for the more beauteous families imported from Japan; but the Holly- 

 hock, of whom it was said, 



" How high his haughty honor holds his head," 



has grown in elegance and gorgeousness of coloring, and has attained 

 to tfie front rank among "florists' flowers." And the Aster and the 

 Balsam have increased in beauty, and now take precedence of most other 

 annuals; and the Gilliflower, like a real friend, attends us through all 

 the vicissitudes and alterations of a century, even growing more beauti- 

 ful. But the Marigold is almost superseded by its more brilliant sister, 

 Tagetes signata pumila, which, in spite of its high-sounding name, is 

 nothing but a single Marigold. 



But if we read the seedsmen's catalogues attentively, we shall find the 

 seeds of all of these " old-fashioned flowers " advertised, and can supply 

 ourselves with a goodly show of them. 



