18 
COMPANION TO THE FLORAL MAGAZINE. 
have removed the bandage from mine eyes, but, on the contrary, she rather 
tightened it. We had, it is true, a Professor of Botany, but he might as 
•well have resided at Botany Bay, for anything we saw or knew of him. 
There was a garden too, attached to our college, but nothing was ever 
sown in it, save wild oats and exhausted “ weedsand I can only re¬ 
member a single window which was beautified with flowering plants, and 
this, “ because ” (as I was assured on inquiry, though I was quite unable 
to understand the inference) “ the occupier was going over to Borne.” 
We went regularly enough to the Commemoration Flower Shows, but it 
was something which Mr. Turner would himself allow to be more attrac¬ 
tive than his grand Pelargoniums, which took us there in our dandy suits. 
There was a brightness even brighter than the glowing flowers, there were 
tints more roseate than the Bose’s self, which won our earnest gaze. Very 
different were our exclamations and inquiries then, as we entered the 
Exhibition tents, to those which we utter now. Instead of “ Look at 
that fern 1” “ What lovely orchids !” “ Who has won the cup ?” it was, 
“ Have you seen little Jack Thompson’s sister ? a screamer, Sir, a perfect 
screamer!” (the dissyllable “screamer” was meant to indicate a maiden 
of peerless beauty), or, “ Did you ever see such a dear little duck as that 
in the lavender bonnet ?” 
I was roused at last from my slumber, “ awaking with a start,” like 
Byron dreaming of his child; and I emerged as suddenly from darkness 
to light as a midday express from a tunnel. Having small belief in in¬ 
stantaneous conversions, I must nevertheless confess, that on this occa¬ 
sion I met with a missionary, who immediately induced me to acknow¬ 
ledge and renounce the ignorance of many years, and voluntarily and 
heartily to enrol myself in a brotherhood, of which up to this moment I 
knew nothing, the happy brotherhood of Florists. Many a glad summer 
have I passed, and many a high festival have I kept since then, with that 
most worshipful company, but I ever remember vividly, as though it were 
yesternight, the hour and scene, 
“A goodly place, a goodly time.” 
when once again my dear love of flowers, dormant for so many dreary 
years, bloomed in my thankful heart. I know the spot to a yard, where one 
summer’s eve I met the missionary who revived that love, and the mis¬ 
sionary’s name was— Rose. S. B. H. 
BAISING VEBBENAS FBOM SEED. 
During the last few years, the demand for material for the “bedding- 
out” system so much increasing, has caused the cultivation of herbaceous 
plants of dwarf stature and effective colours, suitable for massing, to be 
more studied than formerly. Among these the Verbena is conspicuous, 
