The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1883-02-13
MIR. Banoroft.s Roses.

MIR. Banorott's Roses.
blr. Bancroft the historian, who resides
In Washington has hobby. 1t ls rose
! culture. Fancy this of man who spends
his days In setting up the dry bones OF
facts, and breathing into them the life oil
history His winter homo is double
brown-stone, and had originally small
strip OF ground on eacl side of the entrance.
There was one blaze Of color from Fcbru.
ary to June. Such hyaclnths surely never
bloomed outside of poem; and the tulips
looked as If some tropical bird had beeu
plucked near by, and It's plumage scattered
broadcast over the over the beds. Every
shade and color IN natures paint-b0x was
represented, and under the woong sun
and soft air of mldwnter they thrust up
from the mold long before the leaves were
out or the spring prince had kissed the
sleeping world to life; and in the SHOWS
and storms that follow such weather.
truce they would stand erect and glowing
washed into the hills, and the cat.talls be-
gan to frisk on the trees.
But all of this was only prelude to his
rose garden. He bought large lot which
joined his property at right angles, facing
fancy price for it., as it was in ihG heart OF
the West End. Straightway he planted 1t
all in roses.
Such flowers They ranged in color
from the palest bloom of Provence to the
passionate heart of The Jacqueminot :;
Alarcchal Mel bends IN stately courtesy to
Marie Gillot. and slghs in perfume for the
Cloth-of-God and the memories of the
M Ma1 Mo6o N1,le
petals at the White Croquet, the Altar
rose, tho pale Safroua, and the Damask
Blush, the Mlcratiia lifts up It's white cups
to the sun, and Maria Cook iaints In the
glow OF sistcrhood whose very names |
have forgotten. The garden is like a tenn.
pie where thousand spices are burning in
flames OF rs many colors, and the vcncra-
BILE historian is the worshipper.
lie is All early riser, anu many morn :
ing l have been awakened by cries and
comments, incohercnt as to words, but
ringing with plcasurcl ! would so to my
window, and there, bending over rose after
rose, would be the slight, elastic figure of
their adorcr his white beard and hair
sweeping the freshness from their chaliccs,
AND getting the first perfumes Of the young
day. lie carried book IN one hand and
= StCu Ill ClC OGu6T,
spent two or three hours just wandering
from bush to bush in an ecstacy Of content
sometimes kissing the flowers, sometimes
caresslng them with his fingers, and fre-
quently dropping On his stool under some
specially odorOus cluster to read his book
TO the accompaniment-soun sense and
sweet scentsl
His house ut Newport Is surrounded by
sea OF bloom and fragrance, and lie make
his roses the calendar by which ho tells of
his seasons. lie stays in Washington until
June and the Jacquenlnots die together;
thcD he flies 70 Ills iioIthct gar,icu, where
he fingers until the hardest of It's denlzens
are dead and the ghosts OF their petals fall
IN snow from the clouds of November. His
house III Washington is stored with lutcr-
esling things. the speciality being that
there Is one Of everything and that one of
the very best. His hospitality is lavish
and elegant, and his library what Ruslln
would call "a tomb Of the klugs." IN
build the historian IS, as have SAID, singh
his hair and beard are like cream colore d
silk, his dark eyes tender with the fires OF
thirty, and his movements are quick and
graceful. lie rides every day on fiery
black hore, and can tire out his youn,,
companions in u hard trOt every time.