THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
71 
things to the new-comer, who seemed at first mute with 
surprise and admiration. At last, after he had listened 
nearly an hour without opening his mouth, she began to 
mistrust his silence, and asked him some questions so 
direct that he was forced to reply. But, alas ! he gave 
only the silliest answers. Mme. de Stael, angry at hav¬ 
ing thrown away her trouble and her wit, turned to her 
t 
friend and said, “ Truly, sir, you resemble my gardener, 
who thought to please me this morning by bringing me 
a pot of scarlet geranium ; but I sent him away, begging 
him never to let me see it again.” “ Why so ?” asked 
the young man, confounded. “ Because, sir, since you 
wish to know, this geranium is finely dressed in red; so 
long as you only look at it, it is pleasing ; but the mo¬ 
ment you press it slightly, it gives out only a disagreeable 
odor.” Saying these words, she rose and went out, 
leaving the young man with cheeks as red as his coat, or 
the flower to which he had been compared. 
CYPRESS ( Cupressus ). Mourning. 
“ Peace to the dust that in silence reposes 
Beneath the dark shades of the cypress and yew.” 
Pierpont. 
“ And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom.” 
Byron. 
“ The nodding cypress formed a fragrant shade.” 
Pope. 
“ In cypress chests my arras counterpanes.” 
Shakspeare. 
