5 
TIIE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
.some circumstances, may be grown in the open border. 
The Giant Ixia now figured is the Montbretia Crocosmia- 
Jlora. of Belgique Horticole. The robust-habited Mont- 
bretia Pottsi, which grows to the height of three to four 
feet, and the smaller and very fiery-flowered Tritonia 
Aurca, are its parents; this hybrid being one of the many 
fruits of the skill in hybridizing of M. Lemoine, of Nancy. 
The hybrid is, in all its character, intermediate between 
its parents; in the roots, leaves, and general growth, it 
resembles its seed parent il Tontbretia Pottsi , and in its 
flowers it resembles its pollen parent, Tritonia Aurea. 
The plant is of elegant and decidedly leafy growth, 
with the general complexion of a Gladiolus, and attains 
a height of from two } to three feet. The leaves are 
broad, distinctly ribbed, and of a brilliant green color. 
The flowers are Ixia-like in color, combining vivid 
orange-scarlet with orange-yellow. 
Being nearly hardy is a great point in favor of this fine 
hybrid, which will be fully appreciated by cultivators 
who are familiar with the Ixias and their kindred.— 
Gardeners' Magazine. 
Note. —We would say that all of this class of bulbs, 
which includes the Babianas , Spar axis, and Tritonias, 
may be grown in a cold frame without the slightest 
difficulty. It is necessary that they should have a situa¬ 
tion where water will not stand during the Winter; 
then fill the frame with dry leaves and cover with a 
sash or wooden-shutter. Their very showy flowers in 
early Spring will amply repay all the attention they 
require for their successful cultivation. 
ABOUT ROSES. 
To catch a glimpse of the Rose in a state of ideal 
beauty, one must rise betimes in the morning. To those 
Spartan souls alone who bravely cast aside the fetters 
of the drowsy god, is reserved the privilege of beholding 
this lovely Queen of Flowers arrayed in all her most 
bewitching charms. Perhaps with many readers of the 
Cabinet, as has often been the case with the writer, it 
may require an almost superhuman effort of heroic sclf- 
douial, to successfully combat the alluring seductive¬ 
ness of •’ just another little nap;” yet when the price of 
such a glorious victory is a pleasure so exquisite as that 
to which I refer, no effort should be spared to enjoy it. 
Should the reader be the lucky possessor of a garden, 
it may be taken for granted that it contains Roses ; for 
otherwise, to persons of correct taste, it would be simply 
a desert. 
Would Maud, think you—Maud, that superb “ queen 
rose of the rosebud garden of girls ”—have gone into a 
garden that was destitute of Roses ? We are inclined 
to think not, and fancy that an invitation piped in her 
melancholy lover’s most dulcet strain could not have 
moved her. Therefore, he held out the following in¬ 
ducements : 
“ Come into the garden Maud, 
1 am here at the gate alone; . 
The woodbine's spices are wafted abroad, 
And the musk of the roses blown.” 
Of the fact that Maud was an ardent rose-amateur, 
there cannot be the slightest doubt, for he also adds— 
“ Maud has a garden of roses, 
And lilies fair on a lawn; 
There she walks in her state, 
And tends upon bed and bower, 
And thither I climbed at daivn.” 
Here, it may be observed, wo have a charming poetical 
precedent for our pet theory, for the languishing lover 
evidently found both Maud and the roses more beauti¬ 
ful “ at dawn.” Now, dear reader, having clearly 
demonstrated that life without Roses would be a dreary 
blank, it may be assumed that we have the following 
conditions solidly posed : You have a garden. In this 
domain, in common with a thousand other floral treas¬ 
ures (Lilies, Tulips, Peonies, Carnations, Pansies, Iris, 
etc., etc.,) are growing divers varieties of the genus 
Rose ; and above all, you have a collection of Hybrid. 
Remontants; not a large collection, perhaps, but valuable 
for its rare and select sorts. 
These slight preliminaries being satisfactorily settled, 
should you feel animated by a longing and unquenchable 
desire to be thrown (on the very first appropriate occa¬ 
sion) into a state of blissful happiness, obey with scru¬ 
pulous exactitude the following directions ; 
On a beautiful morning in the month of June of the 
year 1883 (and each succeeding year 1 ), sally forth into 
your garden just before sunrise. The humid, balmy 
atmosphere will be filled with delicious odors, pungent 
and demonstrative to a degree not discernible at any 
other hour, with, perhaps, the exception of “ dewy eve,” 
a diapason of odors, the key-note of which will be 
Mignonette, that simple little flower, so modest and un¬ 
assuming in appearance, yet so bold and self-asserting in 
fragrance. Except that the pugnacious English spar¬ 
rows shall have driven them away, the air will be vocal 
with the matin songs of joyous birds, the chirping of 
insects, and the many rustling sounds of awakening 
nature. All these are necessary, and invariable adjuncts 
of the feast of roses to which you are invited. Added 
to these will be the hum and bustle of reviving industry, 
utilitarian sounds of busy mill and factory; the strident 
shriek of passing train or steamer; the ringing anvil of 
the village blacksmith, proverbially an early riser—that 
sturdy, manly artizau, who has furnished fertile theme 
for writer, painter and poet. 
Now that you are thoroughly awakened by all these 
exhilirating sights and sounds, seek the border where 
the peerless Baroness Rothschild holds her court; none 
other is more worthy of your homage. As you approach 
the verdant precincts, what an enchanting sight bursts 
upon your dazzled eyes. The pale-green leaves are 
covered with softly gleaming dewdrops of pearly opaque¬ 
ness. As the sun has not yet risen, they do not glitter, 
but give out a silvery, shimmering light, and on this 
background of delicate green and silver are borne crisply 
erect roses of the most ravishing loveliness, roses abound- 
