182 LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
shrinks from my hand, as it does from that of the 
American savage; the African marigold predicts to 
me, as to the black inhabitants of the desert, dry or 
rainy weather ; the day-lily of Portugal tells me 
that in an hour it will be noon ; and the Peruvian 
nightshade informs the timid lover that the try sting- 
hour is at hand. 
