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RANDOM THOUGHTS. 
Goethe says— 
“ Happy the inan who hath escaped the town, 
Him did an angel bless w hen he was born.” 
To the devotee of country life was this apostrophe 
addressed. And one of the most striking proofs of the 
progress of refinement in the United States is the rapid 
increase of love for the improvement and embellish¬ 
ment of our country homes. Men of business are now 
looking forward to the time when they may have a 
spot of earth all their own, which they may make 
beautiful by their love for rural homes. But all 
country homes are not beautiful. Yet, if there is a 
woman in it, I cannot understand why there is not at 
least a flower-garden on a small place in the yard, 
made lovely by the varied tints of our common annuals, 
that do not. require much attention. 
Who would he without a rose ? It is the type of 
everything fair and lovely on earth. I think Leigh 
Hunt knew what he was saying when he wrote: 
“ Whatsoe’er of beauty yearns and yet reposes— 
Blush and bosom, and sweet breath, 
Took a shape in roses.” 
She is the queen of flowers; and there is no limit to 
the variety and beauty of the forms and colors which 
it assumes. If you want a vine to hide any defect you 
can get it from the rose—the wild rose, or, as we here 
call it, the “ Queen of the Prairies,” and “ Baltimore 
Belle.” These hardy climbers will grow well in any 
exposure. If you want something that is always 
sweetness and sunshine, plant you a few or many 
everblooming roses—they make a garden of them¬ 
selves—for there are many of them. I have only 
three different kinds—and to do without them ! money 
could not buy them, scarce as that indispensable is at 
this place. 
Among the list, the most perpetual of all, the 
most lovely in form and color, and richest fragrance, 
is the Bourbon rose—(this branch of the family is 
not repudiated by Republicans). Of that family there 
are many, more than I am acquainted with, hut ask 
Uucle Vick; he can give you the full nomenclature of 
that, illustrious family, also of the Remontantes, hut 
these can’t he depended upon for a constant supply of 
flowers. Be sure if you have hut a small collection 
to have the Old Red Moss, still at the head of all 
beautiful roses, and its lovely sister—the Crested Moss. 
We love roses, and could keep singing of their beauty ; 
hut there are also other plants far more rich and 
vivid, such as bright Lilies and gay Tiger flowers, 
lovely Dahlias, &c. 
And there are others—the Violets, sweet, modest 
flower, and Jessamines—and with us the lovely Cape 
Jessamine, all filled with “ more passionate sighs of 
sweetness” than the rose; and all easy of culture. 
If you once get them to take root they are there 
always to repay you for your trouble. If you want 
something to he a thing of beauty at all times, a 
foliage of rich and glossy green when all things have 
dropped their summer dress and prepared to meet the 
snow king, then get you a Laurel, Magnolia, Sweet 
Bay or Norway Spruce—our woods furnish many 
lovely evergreens—and let me beg my sisters, if your 
home is not surrounded with them, get to work and 
keep humming the same tune “plant me some ever¬ 
greens,” and you will get them, if it is only to hear 
the tune turned to something else ; and while you are 
nursing your window sweets, your home will have a 
warm look outside. If I could have but one or two 
flowers (annuals) I would certainly have the Petunias 
and Zinnias. What improvements have been made 
by florists in these common plants ! I said to a friend 
when walking through her garden, “ Where are your 
Dahlias ¥’ “ Who would be bothered with the care of 
roots when they can he so well imitated with these 
Zinnias; they rival them in brilliancy of color, and 
are so double that their petals, in curling back, form 
almost a round ball, and are in continual bloom from 
May till killed with frost.” 
For several years 1 have been trying to get a variety 
of bulbs, but have tailed; being an invalid I can’t 
get out much. When we moved to this place I tried 
to get some seed, hut not from a neighbor could I get 
so much as a Prince Feather or Bachelor Button, 
nothing in the way of seedlings—some had shrub¬ 
bery—now almost every yard has more or less flowers, 
and some are real beauties; so much for the deter¬ 
mination of one. One of my greatest pleasures is the 
music of the humming bird as it gathers its breakfast 
from the dewy Honeysuckle and Morning Glory 
Vines that hang in festoons around my porch; the 
dear little ruby-breasted beauties, how I love then.. 
If your neighbors have no flowers, give them some 
seed; send them a bouquet with dew-drops hanging 
heavy as emeralds upon leaf and hud; let the soft, 
rich colors delight the eye with their lovely hues, and 
the rose odor which every one feels has lost nothing 
of divine sweetness since its first bloom in the garden 
of Eden, and if she is a true woman she will never 
rest till she can gather flowers her own hands have 
planted, and you will do more good than if you fol¬ 
low the teachings of every woman’s rights woman 
on earth. You will be in your own true place—a 
lover of all things beautiful. S. B. 
PERNS. 
“ Where the copsewood is the greenest, 
Where the fountain glistens sheenest, 
Where the morning dew lies longest, 
There the Lady Fern grows strongest.” 
One can do so many things with so little trouble if 
one only knows how. Once in a while they do 
stumble on discoveries without really knowing how 
they do it. That was the way with our Ferris; first 
we thought of one way of doing them, then, almost 
before we knew, we had thought and been told of 
more than a dozen ways of arranging these most 
beautiful and delicate of plants. 
Several of our windows are adorned with plates, 
cups and saucers filled with moss and Ferns in a state 
of luxuriant growth and beauty. One great recom¬ 
mendation is that they will grow in a place which is 
too shady for anything else. 
The early months of spring are the best time for 
collecting them, and a basket and trowel all the tools 
needed; the less distance they have to he carried 
before planting the better. Flat, dishes are the best, 
and if ornamented by a crack, which would exclude 
them from table service, so much the better. Put 
the Ferns, with as much of the dirt adhering to them 
as possible, in groups, and cover over the entire sur¬ 
face of the dish with moss. Give them plenty of 
water and not much sunshine, and the moss should 
always be wet, not merely damp. They ask no atten¬ 
tion beyond the supply of water, and you will he sur¬ 
prised and delighted with the number of new Ferns 
constantly appearing. 
A pretty ornament is a large oval platter with a 
smaller dish of the same shape set in the centre; in 
the middle of the dish place a large group of the 
Ferns, and in the platter a row of them half way 
between the dish and the outer edge. Cover over 
with moss so that the dish does not show, giving it 
the appearance of a mound. One similar, hut on a 
smaller scale, may he made of a cup and soup 
plate. 
We have in our mind’s eye a thing of beauty, 
which we hope will be a joy all next summer. On 
the outside of one of our north windows, and even 
with the sill, we intend to fix a box as long as the 
window, and twelve inches wide, made firm by sup¬ 
ports to the ground. Up these supports at each end 
Madeira Vines are to he trained, and let run up each 
side of the window as far as they will. All around the 
edge we will plant scarlet-flowered Tropeolums, 
which will fall over the edge in green wreaths and 
scarlet flowers, reaching to the ground; in the centre 
of the box, as many Ferns of as many different kinds 
as we can find room for. 
We have got into the habit of carrying with us, in 
our rambles in the woods, a hook for the capture of 
' any specimens we may come across. Patent Office 
i Reports are about the right size; not too large to 
carry, yet large enough to accommodate almost any 
Fern. We found it much the best plan to have a 
book with us and place the Ferns right for pressing, 
as we gathered them, for if we waited till we got 
home many of them were withered and worthless, and 
often we would be too tired to attend to them prop¬ 
erly, while the other way there was nothing to do 
when we got home hut to put the book away to press. 
We like pressing better than ironing, though the 
latter has often been recommended. The pressed ones 
look just as well, and do not take one-fifth the time 
nor patience. For winter decoration nothing can 
excel pressed Ferns mixed in with bright colored 
autumn leaves, also pressed. 
In one corner of our parlor on a bracket is a minia¬ 
ture bust, and over it a wreath, or half' wreath, made 
by cutting out of stiff paper a crescent-shaped piece; 
at eacli end is placed a gracefully curved Fern, and 
the rest covered with bright leaves and Ferns mixed 
so that none of the paper is visible ; it is put cat-a- 
cornered on the wall just above the bust, and fastened 
by little strips of paper, which, if carefully done, will 
not show. 
The long stretch of picture cords can he improved 
by carefully sewing pressed Ferns along them with a 
black thread ; the Ferns will have the appearance of 
; a drooping vine. Finish off at the top by fastening 
to the nail from which the picture hangs a cluster of 
bright leaves and Ferns. You can have no idea till 
you have tried how pretty the effect will he. 
Ferns are made still more beautiful by bleaching, 
though many are lost in the operation. One cup full 
of chloride of lime to a half gallon of soft water gives 
about the strength necessary. Put in a jar, stems 
first, and let them remain till they are perfectly white, 
which will be from a few days to a week. A glass 
jar is the best, as you can see which ones are bleached 
without disturbing the others. When white, take out 
and put between the leaves of a book till ready to 
use. 
We intend to make ours into a phantom bouquet, 
framed in a deep frame, with a background of crim¬ 
son velvet. 
No doubt there are many other ways yet unthought 
of for arranging Ferns so as to bring out their full 
beauty. I only suggest, a few. Whoever tries them 
will be more than paid for their labor. 
Joan Saint Pierre. 
