The following extract is from the Flora Domestica : — 
The fashion, so long prevalent in this country, of adorning the hair with artificial flowers, is in some 
countries improved upon by the use of the natural. Thunberg describes it as a common custom in Batavia ; 
and Southey, speaking of the women of Paulista, in Brazil, says, “ Flowers were an indispensable part of the 
ffemale head-dress, a natural fashion in a land where the sweetest flowers blossom in all seasons ; but the 
beauty of the costume was destroyed by the odious custom of wearing powder, with which the Paulista 
women of all ages loaded their heads.” Again, he says, “ When a stranger is introduced to a Brazilian 
lady, it is an act of courtesy in her to take a flower from her head and present it to him, and he is expected- 
to return the compliment in the course of his visit / 5 
In some parts of Germany the ladies wear natural flowers, particularly the beautiful blue corn-flower 
(Centaur ea Cyanus.) 
A friend has obliged me with the following lines, paraphrased from the Greek of Meleager. “ This 
delicious little Greek poem , 55 says he, “ is one of those which I always seem to scent the very odour of, as if 
I held a bunch of flowers to my face . 55 
“ A flowery crown will I compose — 
I’ll weave the crocus, weave the rose ; 
I’ll weave narcissus, newly wet, 
The hyacinth, and violet ; 
And myrtle shall supply me green, 
And lilies laugh in light between : 
That the rich tendrils of my beauty’s hair 
May burst into their crowning flowers, and light the painted air.” 
Sometimes it happens, says Dr. Aikin, that a sudden shower of rain falls during a frost, and immediately 
turns to ice A remarkable scene is then produced, which the following fines most beautifully describe. 
Ere yet the clouds let fall the treasur’d snow, 
Or winds begun thro’ hazy skies to blow, 
At ev’ning a keen eastern breeze arose, 
And the descending rain unsulled froze. 
Soon as the silent shades of night withdrew, 
The ruddy morn disclosed at once to view 
The face of nature in a rich disguise, 
And brighten’d every object to my eyes : 
For every shrub, and every blade of grass, 
And every pointed thorn seem’d wrought in glass ; 
In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show, 
While thro’ the ice the crimson berries glow. 
The thick-sprung reeds the wat’ry marshes yield, 
Seem polish’d lances in a hostile field. 
The stag, in limpid currents, with surprise, 
Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise. 
The spreading oak, the beech, and tow’ring pine, 
Glaz’d over, in the freezing ether shine. 
The frighted birds the rattling branches shun, 
That wave and glitter in the distant sun. 
When, if a sudden gust of wind arise, 
The brittle forest into atoms flies : 
The crackling wood beneath the tempest bends, 
And in a spangled show’r the prospect ends. 
Philips, Lett, f rum Copenhagen. 
