We see that flowers are emblems of spirit¬ 
ual things; they point to the ideal, which 
is, in fact, the real; they are, as a poet has 
said, “Muses with messages from God to 
us.” 
Flowers are Divine poems of visible Na¬ 
ture, too grand to be uttered audibly, but 
chanted in the eloquent song of silence, 
which we may sometime understand, when 
mortal ears shall become spiritually at¬ 
tuned enough to hear the “music of the 
spheres.” 
Flowers are of practical use in their very 
beauty itself by winning us to that which 
is lovely, pure and graceful in thought, 
word and action; consequently, by means 
of flowers, moral and mental culture is at¬ 
tained. 
A person cannot fail of a benefit by ex¬ 
ercising love for flowers, and by culti¬ 
vating and arranging them. His taste will 
be refined and general disposition im¬ 
proved, and so, by the aspirations which 
flowers incite, is his mind ennobled. 
If 1 can only induce one person to in¬ 
vestigate this great and delightful subject 
for himself, I shall not have written in 
vain.— Webster, Mass., May 20, 1383. 
Notes from tlie Jefferson Gardens. 
BY Q. A. LOBINGIER. 
I wish to caution your readers who have 
«/ 
had but little experience in such matters, 
on a couple of points in my article on cel¬ 
ery growing in the November Number of 
Seed-Time add Harvest. First, on the 
matter of watering. It will not do to allow 
water to flow for a long time in one spot. 
It would destroy the active “working” 
roots. The real object is to thoroughly 
moisten the soil and as soon as that is ac¬ 
complished the water should be withdrawn. 
Old or experienced workers in the soil will 
understand this, but beginners need the 
caution. If there are constant showers 
so that the soil does not dry out nor the 
plants get thirsty, no watering wall be nec¬ 
essary. Such a season however, is very 
rare. And if celery is to be grown as close 
as rows two feet and plants six inches as- 
sunder in the row, the land must be made 
rich. When you think you have it plenty 
rich enough just add as much more fer¬ 
tilizer. 
tomatoes trained to stakes. 
Last spring I concluded to give the Per¬ 
fection Tomato a fair trial on stakes. I 
had a garden in the heart of the city 15Ox 
180 feet, surrounded by a fence 6 feet high. 
On the sides facing east, "west and south 
I set on May 25th, 300 plants that has been 
well grown and five-inch oak stakes 6 feet 
long by H inches square were driven into 
the ground beside each plant. The plant 
was allowed to grow but one stem, all side 
shoots being pinched off until the top of 
the stake was reached. They require the 
pinching and tying four times during the 
season and set an average of six clusters of 
tomatoes. Notone rotted and the flavor 
was so superior that we had as ready sale 
for them for slicing as we found for our 
strawberries, and at from 10 to 20 cents per 
quart when bushels were offered in the 
groceries at from 25 to 60 cents per bushel. 
The first ripe tomatoes were picked July 21, 
and the last on Nov. 4th. For retail sales 
or family use I shall never train in any 
other way. 
Steubenville, O'. 
The Tittle Brown Jug-. 
Glug! Glug! Glug! 
By my corn cob plug, 
Said the jug 
Times are dull, old friend, 
Take a pull, old friend. 
Do you good— “Ah!” 
Warms the blood— “Ah!” 
Gives one strength— “Ah!” 
Unto life adds length— “Ah!” 
Isn’t that the pure stuff! “Hie!” 
Ha! you like it, sure enough! “Hie!” 
Never mind about the weather, 
Into the ditch we’ll roll together 
Two hard cases out upon a spree, 
Whisky mellow, drunk as drunk can be, 
What care gwe about a bed to-night? 
In this friendly snow drift tucked so tight, 
Let the blizzard rush, and let it roar, 
In unconscious bliss we’ll lie and snore, 
Merc’ry down to 40, what care you or I? 
Alcohol within us must be forty high. 
Wife and children starving at home, 
But we’ll warm ’em when we come, 
Flour barrel empty, clothing gone, 
Where is our next whisky pawn? 
But no matter. We’re ail right. 
Here’s a plenty for to-night, 
Hey sir, my treat ouce more! 
Thaw that frozen snore! 
Frozen! Frozen! Glug! 
Like an icicle said the jug! 
—Temperance Advocate. 
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