Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1888-07-27
MY RARE ROSE.

I am devoted to f1owers-fower-
mania my friends call me, and, perhaps,
they are right. The only extravaganza
am ever guilty of is the purchase of a
rare plant, and although l am far from
wealthy, yet my flower collection is
equal, if not superior, to that of my
rich friends.
Madeline, that's my wife-says she
can't make a creditable appearance, be-
cause, whenever she wants new bonnet,
happen to want new plant. Women
never can reason, you know, and I've
exhausted myself in trying to explain,
that while a new bonnet lasts only a
season, plant will give you delight for
years: but all the same Madeline grum-
bles and grumbles, and comes back to
the starting point that she wants a bon
net, and that three months of it would
give her more pleasure than years with
my floral pets.
"Pve no patience with you, John, "
she eXclaims. "Jeanne and | are obliged
to have decent clothes and bonnets, if
we expect to go into society at all. But
much you care for that. If we'd get on
our knees and dig around your hateful
l,lants with our hands and-yes-water
them with our tears, you'd think it was
al right"
But salt water wouldn't be good for
them, my dear" 1 say in perfect good
faith, and then somehow she gets more
furious than ever.
Il hope they'll all die" she cries, in
her usual impetuous manner. eyes 1
do! l hope they'll wither before your
eyes! l hope something dreadful will
happen to show you what mean, selfish
creature you are!" and then she burst
into tears and flung herself out of the
room.
Madeline is a good woman, an excel
lent wife, but she will fly out now and
then, and call me hard names. It's pretty
hard when I'm trying to elevate her
tastes from the frivolities of dress and
fashion, which have ruined so many
noble souls, and to bring her into sym
pathy with nature.
My daughter Jeanne is as bad as her
mother. She is eighteen years old and
very pretty, but she can't be made to
understand that fine dresses are not
needed to set off her charms, and all she
wants of flowers is to cut them and stick
them about her dress. If it wasn't for
my plants, life would be a very hard
thing for me with those disconnected
females nagglng at me.
Did tell you roses were my special
passion? No! well, they are, and have
one-hundred and twenty five choice varie-
ties Of the rose family, and for some of
them 1 would not take ten dollars
Certainly not for my William Allen
Richardson, which got from New York
year ago. The only one of the species
In the town where l live, and unique of
its kind.
1t is not a remarkably large or double
yellow rose like the Marechale Mel, the
Chromatella or the Etoile de Lyon, but
1t IS sui genertS in its intense orange hue.
When it bloomed out this spring, it re-
minded me of sunsets | had watched in
the Mediterranean and off the coast of
Grande Isle in the Gulf of Mexico. l
gazed at it in an ecstasy of delight, and
Madeline could hardly get me to my
meals.
"Why, papa, it's grand" Jeanne cried,
clapping her hands 'Tt's Just the
shade of flower 1 want for my
black lace dress this evening, that I'm
going to wear at Mrs. Hurston's party.
Come, papa, are you not going to give
me bouquet de corsage of the roseP
Why, l would sooner have let out
some drops of my hearts blood, and told
her so. Cut my beautiful William Allen
Richardson? 1t was sacrilege even to
PlOpOSS IIy anu l. IOlO DGI 81 pretty
plainly. She marched off in huff, and
1 was suddenly startled by somewhat
sharp voice at my back.
''Aoh, die wunderschoenen Rosen! 1t
is lofely."
l turned and saw a stout, ruddy- look
ing German girl, with her broad face
wreathed with smiles as she gazed ad-
miringly at my garden.
''W hat do YOU wantH' / asked.
81 come, the Frau Hyson she send me
to de laty dat wants a madchen, a ser
want"
"Yes, my wife applied for one. You
will find her in the house."
Zach, but the lofely rosen!" she ex-
claimed, enthusiastically clasping her
hands. evil the Herr not let me walk
in his garten and see them?"
must acknowledge l was charmed