Old Flower Favorites 165 
not breathe and live in his presence, others have an 
equal love of human companionship. The white 
Clover clings here to our pathway as does the Eng- 
lish Daisy across seas. And in our garden Ladies' 
Delights and Ambrosia tell us, without words, of 
their love for us and longing to be by our side ; 
just as plainly as a child silently tells us his love 
and dependence on us by taking our hand as we 
walk side by side. There is not another gesture 
of childhood, not an affectionate word which ever 
touched my heart as did that trustful holding 
of the hand. One of my children throughout his 
brief life never walked by my side without clinging 
closely — I think without conscious intent — with 
his little hand to mine. I can never forget the affec- 
tion, the trust of that vanished hand. 
I find that my dearest flower loves are the old 
flowers, — not only old to me because I knew them 
in childhood, but old in cultivation. 
“ Give me the good old weekday blossoms 
I used to see so long ago. 
With hearty sweetness in their bosoms. 
Ready and glad to bud and blow.” 
Even were they newcomers, we should speedily 
care for them, they are so lovable, so winning, so 
endearing. If I had seen to-day for the first time a 
Fritillaria, a Violet, a Lilac, a Bluebell, or a Rose, I 
know it would be a case of love at first sight. But 
with intimacy they have grown dearer still. 
The sense of long-continued acquaintance and 
friendship which we feel for many garden flowers 
