106 
THE LADIES’ FLORAL CABINET. 
cate liver-leaf, Hepatica triloba. Such a soft, tender, 
slight flower as it is ! One would hardly expect it to be 
the first to venture out. It has not had the warm shelter 
of the earth as the Mayflower did, but it ventured to send 
its delicate hairy stem up into the spring air just the same. 
A close inspection of the plant, even in winter, will discover 
buds already formed and apparently ready to respond to 
the first breathings of spring. These large dusky-green, 
heart-shaped leaves, last through the winter, and the new 
ones do not usually appear till after the flowers. 
The hepatica is classed with the crowfoot family 
(Ranunculacea ), where also are found a large number of 
our early spring favorites. Besides this broad-leaved 
variety there is still another— H. acutiloba—vj\th more 
erect and sharp-pointed leaves; but the difference between 
the two species is neither wide nor constant. Long before 
anything in the garden is seen save a few delicate snow¬ 
drops and possibly now and then a purple or yellow crocus 
that have come out in the sunny borders, these lovely 
light-blue and purplish flowers wrapped in their fur-lined 
silken cloaks can be found in profusion on our country 
hillsides. 
Did you ever read the old Greek fable of Anemone ? 
She was a nymph in Flora’s train, and was beloved by 
Zephyr. The queen of flowers, being jealous, banished 
the unfortunate maiden from her court and changed her 
into a flower, which always opened at the return of spring. 
Zephyr very ungallantly abandoned the former beauty 
to the rude caresses of Boreas, who, unable to gain her 
love, agitates her until her blossoms are half open, and 
then causes her immediately to fade. The story always 
comes to me with the first glimpse of the beautiful wind¬ 
flower, Anemone nemorosa. The smooth and slender 
stems five or six inches high, three-lobed leaves, in a whorl 
near the head of the plant, above which is the cluster of 
pale pink or white star-like flowers, are unmistakable 
evidences that it belongs to the crowfoot family. They 
last but a short time. The motto “ Brevis est usus ”— 
“ Her reign is short ”—admirably expresses the rapid de¬ 
cline of beauty. 
Another favorite flower among us in New England, less 
common indeed through the Middle States, is the beau¬ 
tiful little star-flower, Trientalis Americana , with its 
dainty white blossoms rising from the stem above a whorl 
of emerald lanceolated leaves. It is usually found in 
damp, cool woods, and in rather high altitudes ; and yet 
it prefers a southern exposure. This is one of the very 
few wild plants which is improved by cultivation. 
In these upland woods is found some of the fine woo'd 
sorrels, among which the violet-colored species, Oxalis 
violacce, is usually the most valued. There is a large 
family of these sorrels, but the several species have a 
close resemblance only in the color of the flowers. The 
leaves are trefoil shaped, and the plant has much the 
appearance of white clover. The flowers rise higher 
than the leaves with bright scarlet, yellow, or white 
petals. 
Here, too, we shall find in some sunny nook by the side 
of a great rock, or near the roots of some ancient oak, in 
a bed of mould, the accumulation of successive generations 
of decayed leaves, lovely specimens of the showy Orchis 
spectabilis. It has two oblong, shining green leaves, 
three to five inches long, from between which rises the 
flower-stalk, about six inches high, bearing a few hand¬ 
some white and pinkish flowerets. The plant somewhat 
resembles the lily-of-the-valley, is of rare beauty and 
takes kindly to cultivation. 
Many of the earliest of the northern wild-flowers are 
almost vestal in their purity. They have a chilliness of 
aspect compared with the fervid dyes of southern flowers. 
Most of our early favorites are pale little maidens ; later 
on, come bright yellow, purple and scarlet, the predomi¬ 
nant colors of autumn. The smiling wakerobin has a 
bluish cast. The mitrewort is like frosted silver. The 
petals, of the gold-thread, are of creamy richness. The 
hobblebush is dead white, the chokeberry, roseat. 
Trailing arbutus is of the purest flesh tones, like the 
clear, fair complexion of a sweet young girl. But the 
“ bluets ” have, as the word denotes, a hue of brightest 
azure. 
Not many are the flowers so favored with names as this 
golden-eyed darling of the pastures and fields. In botan¬ 
ical nomenclature, it is Honstonia ccerulia, to honor Dr. 
Houston, a well-known English botanist, and because it 
is of such heavenly blue when it opens. With the staid 
people of Pennsylvania, it is “ Quaker-bonnet; ” they 
could think of nothing else so coy and so bewitching 
to call it by. Again it is “ Venus-pride,” and “ Dwarf 
pink.” It is “ Innocence” for reasons that need no com¬ 
ments. And finally it is “ Fairy-flax,” fit for elfin spinning 
and daintiest fabric for the queen of the faries to wear. 
To the early spring belongs the blood-root— Sangui- 
naria Canadensis , with its broad leaves and white flow¬ 
ers, both leaves and flowers springing from creeping roots, 
and each smooth flower-stem supporting a pure white 
blossom with a broad disk, made up of narrow, ray-like 
petals, but apparently quite too delicate to brave the chill 
air of the season in which it appears. When any part of 
the plant is broken, leaves, flowers or root, a rich juice ex¬ 
udes, w'hich is an ominous red, of dye as deep as that gory 
spot on the “little hand” of Lady Macbeth which would 
“ not out.” From the ensanguined color of this juice the 
plant takes its name. It is highly valued in medicine. 
After May has fairly come, and the days begin to grow 
warmer, how fast the flowers press along. One must go 
often to their haunts, or some will have bloomed and 
passed away. We had been many times to the swamp 
where grows the fever bush before we ever saw it in blos¬ 
som. And then we did not recognize it till we had bitten 
the aromatic bark and tasted the pungent flavor, which 
gives it its other names of spicewood and benzoin—mak¬ 
ing one think of the Orient and the Old Testament days, 
when caravans went laden with odoriferous things whereof 
incense for the temples was made. For years we failed to 
see the cassandra or leather-leaf in bloom. It is one of 
the Andromeda family, and comes on late in April or early 
in May, when the small egg-shaped white flowers appear 
in a row, like lilies-of-the-valley. They are slightly fra¬ 
grant, and as pretty as they can be. They are so young 
and the bush so hoary, that it is like the contrast of a 
child’s face on the bent, decrepit figure of an old man. 
Going down toward the wet land we may expect to find 
