812 HOME 



referred to might be made a ver}' valuable 

 medimii for the exchange of ideas and 

 information. I am very snre that nearh' 

 eTervone who has gTown flowers, ont or 

 indoors, has some bit of knowledge in pos- 

 session that he or she has not seen in print. 

 It may seem simple, but simple things are 

 often more practically helpfnl than things 

 which seem, more important. Tell ns 

 about what vou have discoyered in garden- 

 ing, about what has helped you. and let 

 us make 'This. That and the Other" one 

 of the best features of the magazine. Don't 

 hesitate because you have not had experi- 

 ence in writing. What is wanted is idem. 

 Giye us these, and we will see that they 

 are put in proper shape before they get 

 into print. 



❖ ❖ * 



It seems to the editor that the field of 

 usefulness of such a maofazine as Home 



FLO]YEBS 



AXD Flowers might be greatly extended 

 if eyery woman who reads it would make 

 herself a committee of one to secure a new 

 subscriber for it. A new subscriber se- 

 cured by each old one would mean a doub- 

 ling of its present circulation, and that 

 would mean a much better magazin.e than 

 it is at present, because it would enable 

 us to carry out plans which can not be 

 realized until more money is expended in 

 improyements which we have in mind. AVe 

 aim to make the magazine, in its new form. 

 the floral magazine of the day — something 

 no loyer and grower of flowers can afford 

 to be without — and we aim to constantly 

 improve it, and broaden its scope. But 

 to do this we must put a good deal of 

 money into it, and it must come through 

 the channel of subscriptions. Will you 

 help us to make the magazine a better one 

 by helping to increase our subscription 

 list? 



AX E A S T E E ^11 E A C L E 



BEING lilies fair with which we may adorn 

 The dear Lord's altar on this Easter morn; 

 Pure, spotless flowers, each one a cup abrim 

 With incense that the winds shall waft to Him 

 Who, on that morn of mourning, through the 

 gloom 



That hung its pall of darkness round the tomb, 

 Eose like the sun that drives the night away, 

 And earth was glad on its first Easter-day. 



Let the white lilies by the altar tell 

 The story that befits their lips so well: 

 How, when the autumn days were drear anc: 

 cold, 



They died, or seemed to die, and in the mold 

 Their graves were made. And we, who loved 

 them so, 



Grieved o'er their loss, and when the drifted 

 snow 



Hid the dead leaves that brewed their lowly 

 bed, 



We mourned them, and would not be comforted. 



Through the long vdnter vrith its bitter frost 

 The flowers slept on, whose lives we counted lost. 

 But by and by, when March came o'er the hills. 

 And loosed the fetters that had bound the rills. 



And warm, sweet winds blew up and down the 

 land. 



The flowers we missed sprang up on every hand. 

 And we saw God, in glad, awed wondering, 

 Eepeat His earth-old mystery of spring. 



Then faith took wing, and, lark-like, soared and 

 sang, 



And through the gates of heaven the glad song- 

 rang — 



There is no death! What seemeth so is sleep. 

 The grave is but a cradle, warm and deep. 

 In which earth's weary children rest and dream 

 A little time. Then comes the morning's beam. 

 And they awake, as do the flowers in spring. 

 , To new, sweet life and fuller blossoming. 



Lift heavenward, heart, the eyes by doubt made 

 dim — 



Thy Lord is risen!— thou shalt rise like Him. 

 The soul's a flower, and from the earth's green 

 sod 



It grows to bloom in gardens of our God. 

 Be glad, be glad! In strains exultant sing 

 That death has lost the venom of its sting 

 Since Christ, our Lord, who died for men. 

 This Easter morning lives with God again! 



