prevail, its peans must he sung and the timbrels of (fog and of 
Magog shall awake in its praise. 
With us in America it is now popular beyond reckoning. No 
pampered inmate of the conservatory dare dispute its charms, 
from the Last, and the \\ est, and from the shores of Hudson Bay 
to the land ol the Creole and palmetto comes the joyous general 
outcry of, “All hail the Autumn Queen.” The ladies of the South 
who by their zeal and intelligent culture have for so long made 
their gardens bright with the Hyacinth and the Rose, and sweet 
with the Magnolia and Jassamine, have now fully taken up the 
culture ol the Autumn Queen, and it is with pleasure we note its 
progress in their care. It proves as an agreeable companion in Fall 
as the Crocus, the Narcissus or Hyacinth in Spring. Spring flowers 
in a Southern garden come like a joyous prelude to a concert, but 
the Chrysanthemum like the closing strains of a parting song, 
whose fading notes linger through drear December, making that 
charming contradiction, a flower of Winter with the hues of Sum- 
mer that tarrys with us until the Snowdnrop ad Scilla rise to kiss 
their hands at parting. Chrysanthemums will then but blossom in 
the hearts of people who love them through the Spring and Sum- 
mer months, but the glory which has been and the glory that shall 
be can never be erased from the tablets of memory. 
It is not surprising to anybody who ever saw a large and beauti- 
ful d is}) lay of Chrysanthemums to wonder for a moment at their 
increasing popularity. Some people unfortunately remember them 
before the skill of the hybridizer was brought to bear upon them, 
and picture them to themselves as the little pompons of dingy 
brown and yellow of old time gardens, forgetful that like Cinderella, 
once homely, they have been transformed into blooms defiantly 
beautiful, so that nothing in the whole range of floriculture is so 
truly captivating as .a Chrysanthemum show. The glory of other 
plants, the perfume, seemed at one time beyond its reach, but 
patience has conquered even here, for the Progne, with the color of 
the amathyst, has also the odor of the Violet, while the chaste 
blooms of Nymphea, with its delicate perfume, resembles the oft 
sang of Pond Lilies. No further triumphs remain for it. Individ- 
ually the Chrysanthemum may be said to be coarse when placed 
beside the Orchid, the Lily, or the Rose, but collectively all must 
bow before the Autumn Queen. What can equal a large display of 
