forget-me-nots. 
Some years ago a lover of beautiful flowers, unknown 
to the writer, brought from France seeds of the “ Forget- 
me-not,”and planted them in Hingham, Mass., where, in 
the course of a few years, they became so abundant along 
the marshy brooks near tne railroad between West Hing¬ 
ham and Hingham proper, as to appear indigenous. 
From these plants the writer obtained a few slips in 
the summer of 1875, which he set out in Medford in a 
stream of water running through one comer of his 
garden, and these not only grew readily, but increased 
so rapidly that in less than three years they had pushed 
outside and followed the stream of water far down the 
roadside, where they have become a source of pleasure 
to I know not how many persons, some of whom may 
be glad to learn their history in this way. 
The plants bloom from the first of June until late in 
October, and themselves fnmish an almost inexhaustible 
supply of material for propagation. Their vitality is 
wonderful; every broken slip thrown into the water 
rooting readily and forming new plants. The very slips 
taken off for the blossoms will, if allowed to remain in 
the vase of water for a few days or a week, send out 
roots and make new plants, if afterwards planted out, 
and plants gro^vn from slips in this way are more likely 
to do well in the garden than those which have been 
accustomed to grow wholly in water. Some slips sent 
to California by the \vriter, were planted out in one of 
the mountain streams there, and at last accounts were 
thriving well. Slips also sent to Maine were gi'owing 
when last heard from. Tlie plants love moisture and 
sunslme. Those growing in running water and exposed 
to bright sunshine give the finest blossoms, but they 
may be well grown in shady or half-shady, cool places 
in the garden. 
Of this charming flower it is no exaggeration to say 
that it is one of the most exquisite, if not the loveliest, 
toat blooms. No flower known to the ^vriter ever de^ 
lights so many diveree natures of all ages as this tiny 
blossom, however its wonderful influence is to be account¬ 
ed for. A sympathetic nature might, indeed, almost 
fancy the tender gaze of the dying lover, as told m the 
story below, pleading for remembrance through its 
staiTy, azure eyes, and find therein an explanation of its 
fascinating power. There aie times when in certain 
reflections of light—twiUght especially—the azm-e petals 
ai-e so indescribably lovely that no words could do 
justice to their celestial hue. Then, in the pretty conceit 
of one who likens them to “angels’ eyes”- they seem 
indeed visions from another world come to lift om- 
thoughts above this. 
As I watch the children gathering these incomparable 
blossoms, and see older persons coming from long 
distances to obtain flowers or plants for their gardens 
and remember that all the plants which now give 
I>leasure to so many came from the few slips set out by 
myself, I realize how much enjoyment one may find in 
contributing to the enjoyment of others. 
I set a slip out in the brook. 
And-lot it grew, and spread and grew. 
Till, by the sun and moisture fed. 
It filled each winding curve and crook, 
And blossomed into heavenly blue. 
Out through the bridge it wandered then 
And filled with bloom the road-side stream; 
Who now behold its wondrous hue. 
And gaze into its starry ken, 
Enraptm-ed with its beauty seem. 
“Forget-me-not!” the lover cried, 
“For thee I meet a watery death.” 
He threw the blossonrs to her side. 
And, sinking, with his latest breath. 
Cried still, “0 love, forget me not!” 
Tims clu-istened was my lovely flower; 
Baptized with love’s delicious breath; 
Albeit dearly sought and won— 
And two fond hear-ts were from that hour 
Asunder riven untU death. 
0 precioirs flower! O sweet and rare! 
Nurtured by stream and sun and wind. 
And fed by grateful dews and showers, 
Is this the secret of your power. 
Which charms alike all human kind? 
I watch the children come and go. 
And older ones my blossoms seek. 
Enchanted with their loveliness: 
And as I see then- faces glow, 
I feel a joy I may not speak. 
My tiny slip was planted well; 
Its harvest hath been full of bliss; 
So a kind work or deed may prove 
A blessing unawares, and swell 
The stream of human happiness. 
»yxi,u. a.UU 
As gold is tempered with alloy; 
And this is true, what else is false: 
The sweetest joy that one can know 
Is that of giving others joy. 
“Forget-me-not” has been told 
** without interest, and its 
repetition here may please many who have never heard 
Soulh^a a® ^ Slad to learn its liistory 
through the medium of this note. 
•me story of the two lovers is told in MUls’ “History 
foUows^r^ (PMadelphia edition, 1844, page 104) as 
on a fi^^T^Ir’revS^wh ® 
some of the flowers of MvfsotI?®“ 
close to the bank S L JanH* 
the shore 'iboo-.r island, at some distance from 
hei- ight t ® ttiem, when 
wislied-for plant; but his steS S® *^® 
the object of his aciel^J®T ^ 
hot regain the sh<^ although ^®®^ 
-, veiy near it, and casting 
