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coloured Rose we ever saw, and only have to lament its shape. We 
should welcome something new of this class, instead of the purply slaty 
tint of Reine des Violettes. It is a matter of satisfaction to think of the 
impossibility of the production of a blue Rose, to which the Queen of 
Violets is the nearest approach ; should, however, in this age of marvels, 
a thing so illegitimate be brought to light, we trust its reign will be of 
short duration. We would much prefer the coal black one ” of negro 
song celebrity. Whilst on a dark subject, our darker novelties occur to 
us, some of which we are much pleased with. Triomphe de Lyon, for 
instance, is a good flower, of a deep claret hue, petals stiff and shell¬ 
shaped, truthfully described as such in all the catalogues; a little more 
brilliancy would improve it vastly, as it is we do not think it superior, 
in fact not equal in colour to Francois Arago. Louis XIV., from all 
report, is the gem of 1860. We are glad to hear it so well spoken of, 
as we invested at a high price, but his majesty has not yet favoured us 
with a bloom, and to all appearance has no intention of doing so. 
What the catalogues mean by describing it as “ free,” we are at a loss 
to know ; ours have been free from bloom, and so have alhwe have seen 
this season, and in habit like our own, dwindly and dwarf Eugene 
Appert is of very different character ; he is indeed a noble fellow, hand¬ 
some in foliage and extremely rich in colour, which we think more 
permanent than many of its class. We are not acquainted with the 
genealogy of Eugene or the Duke of Cambridge, but we imagine both 
to be nearly allied to the Geant. The Duke has proved a great acqui¬ 
sition to our stock, the brilliancy of the flower (which we think a true 
cerise), renders it most attractive ; and although the size is moderate, 
the bloom is nicely formed, and produced in great abundance. 
We have “great expectations” from our pet Celine Forestier, and 
have been more polite to her, perhaps, than many of her companions; 
but all the attention we have bestowed upon her we do not now regret; 
she is indeed most beautiful, and destined, we think, to become the 
belle of many a floral fete next season; the colour, perhaps, is not so 
full as we expected, and certainly not so deep as Triomphe de Rennes, 
which the strong family likeness leads us to suppose to be the parent. 
We do not, however, object to the colour of Celine ; on the contrary, 
we rather prefer it, and as our last addition (La Boule d’Or), promises 
to be very golden, we are glad to find Miss Forestier the delicate tint 
she is. 
But in the midst of all our novelties, why do we forget our dear old 
favourites, such as Louise Odier, Jules Margottin, Devoniensis, and 
many others which were brought to our sick bed in early summer, all 
dewy and wet with the lately fallen shower ? With what delight we 
Iiailed their return, like friends that had been dead and were alive 
again. How we revelled in their sweetness and refreshed our weary 
senses with their fragrance. We do not wish to be ungrateful, but we 
must think of these old favourites some future time, for the night is 
growing chilly, and the thrush having sung his little ones to sleep, has 
gone himself to rest. We beg to follow his example, and bid our friends 
good night. 
R. T. E. 
