no 
THE LADIES’ FLORAL CABINET 
fantasy almost without pause. If you sit at a window 
with a book, it will wink, and blink, and beckon, and 
coax, until you cannot help speaking to it. That must 
be a still day that does not see the Aspen quiver. A 
single leaf will sometimes begin to wag, and not another 
on the whole tree will move. Sometimes a hidden 
breath will catch at the lower branch, then shifting, 
will leave these still, while it shakes the topmost twig. 
Though the air may move so gently that your cheek 
does not feel it. this sensilivo tree will seem all of a 
shudder, and turn its leaves upward as with shuddoring- 
chill. It is the daintiest fairy of all the trees. I liuvo 
seen such fair sprites, too, in human form. But one 
does not get off so easily if lie takes too much sport with 
them. The Aspen leaf makes no wounds. Its frolics 
spin no silken threads which one cannot follow, and will 
not break .—Henry lkimi Beecher. 
My waxen darlings, pearly-pink and shy, 
Sheathed in thy heavy leaves of emerald dusk,. 
Thou hast the beauty of the sunrise-sky, 
And perfume rarer than Arabia's musk. 
A cycle of warm summers lingers in 
Thy fragrant leaves ; and all the woody scents 
Of lost Arcadia, flower-filled and dim, 
Float from thy tender lips in sacraments. 
Born of the palled flakes, serene and lonely. 
Kissed by the summer dawns, that love thee well r 
My drifts of rosy snow, thy balsam only 
Can bind my bruised heart in a healing spell ! 
— Selected. 
Thou art not born of summer and the sun, 
My April darlings, pure, and proud, and sweet; 
But in the shadows, like a cloistered nun. 
Smiling, with winter snows about thy feet. 
Gray skies and weeping ra ins have been they lovers: 
No troubadours—gold-belted, drowsy bees: 
No dragon-fly that, like a wind-flower, hovers 
Above thee, blown from sunny Southern seas. 
No humming-bird hath nestled in thy heart, 
Gem-throated, jewel-crested myths of air : 
No amorous breeze hath kissed thee with soft art, 
No blossom leaned beside thee, slim and fair. 
WILD FLOWERS. 
In the sweet-scented pictures, heavenly artist. 
With which thou paintest nature’s wide-spread halJ, 
What a delightful lesson thou impartest 
Of love to all!” 
To the lover of wild flowers all seasons of the year 
are full of beauty, each having its own peculiar charm. 
In spring the flowers are welcomed with delight, for 
their loss has been keenly felt, and we greet them as the 
couriers of successive loveliness. Spring flowers do not 
come with the warm and gorgeous coloring of summer, 
but in white and delicate tints of pink and purple or pale 
yellow, whispering of cool abiding places and waters 
just loosened from their icy bonds, each telling its 
story of buds matured in autumn and long waiting for 
the first" awakening of spring. We wonder while we 
admire, that such fragile and delicate flowers come be¬ 
fore their more robust sisters. 
First Epigsea (Trailing Arbutus), comes with its pink 
and white wary blossoms, and its fragrance thrills us 
with delight, for is it not, apart from its loveliness, the 
sure sign of winter banished, spring has come. In its 
train come Hepatica’s with their pale-purple blossoms 
well above the leaves, which are persistent and last 
until after the blossom has gone and new leaves appear. 
Almost with the Epigsea and Ilepatica are found Sau- 
guinaria Canadensis (blood-root) with exquisitely white 
flowers, contrasting finely witli the bright yellow center - . 
At the time the flowers are in bloijm the leaf is small 
and velvety, very unlike the large coarse leaf of later- 
days. 
Erythronium Americanum (Dog’s-tooth violet), is near 
at hand, and with its beautifully spotted leaves and 
pale-yellow drooping flowers is worthy of special notice. 
Anemones' dot the ground, and the solitary blossom 
of pale-pink, purple or white surmounting the single- 
whorl of leaves is very attractive. 
ITvularia (Bell-wort) we find in rich woods, a slender 
graceful stem bearing a single • pale-yellow bell-shaped 
flower. 
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