Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1891-09-01
THE lNFeuENcE OF FLOWERS

lite tNrGOENSE Of fLOWEHSs
some singular Enects Produced Upon HUI
man Beings.
In popular acceptation, the soul Of
the flower resides in its perfume. But
certain loveliest hower-souls sometimes
exercise singular repellances for indi-
viduals of the human family. There
have been those, even, who could not
endure the fragrance of the rose. To
my knowledge, one observer finds in
the scent of lilacs an unpleasant remind
er of the odor of escaping gas Another
makes no distinction between the
breath of mignonette and the smell of
fresh corn meal To me the scent of
the thistle is Identical with that of
the bum blebee sprawling luxuriously
| among its purple flaments; and the
first time the delicate, feathery flowers
of the beach plum were brought me,
surely their odor was the same l had
noted in downy chicks and nesting
birds!
Beside the qualification which flowers
provide for the sense of sight and the
sense of smell, there is another and
quite rare distinct pleasure which
| is conveyed in the contact of a flower;
as in a subtle spray of lilacs brushing
| against your face, the dabbling touches
| of the SNOWFALL, the tender GOODNESS of
apple blossoms dashed with rain, the
| refined sickness of the lily, which gave
| an old-time poet countenance in de-
| scribing his lady's hand; so smooth, so
| white, so soft it was, ''as it had worn a
lily for glove Further tactile differ
| entiation is to be found in the warm,
vital and airy touch of the rose $50 I'M
like the quality of the lily petaD in the
viscid sultriness of the poppy and the
| petunia, in the tissuey thinness aud dry
ness of the larkspur blossom.
If flowers might but speak-as the in
| tent and listening looks of certain flow
ers almost suggest they might-or if
one might but speak to flower, calling
it by name, and it would recognize the
voice, like pet bird, how such touch
| Of conscious intelligence would further
endear the precious vanishers! Yet 1
| sympathize with the lady who told me
| that she left a metropolitan orchard
show somewhat abruptly because too
closely followed by the elfn eyes and
mischievous inuendoes of these curious
lovely exotics. Nor is it difficult to I'M
derstand the haunted feeling of re-
proach experienced by my little neigh
| Dor, child who had stolen some rogue
I
| out as she threw them away: There!
will you stop calling me 'thief?" Some
plants are born sorcerers, and require
| no Medea to release their potencies.
Such, to my fancy, is the bloodroot,
| with its innocent-faced milk-white bios
som and it's red bleeding root. Such is
the Indian pipe (monotropa) ever a
moonlight spirit with not drop of green
l in Of &c m
tic order is the mandrake, and I have
spent many fascinated quarter of an
hour over a woodside knoll where this
plant appeared in all stages of vernal
development; first, pale green waxen
cones just pushing through the mold
next, with the appearing of the round
flower bud, little musing acolytes with
| bowed shaven heads and mantleS drawn
tightly over their shoulders; and last
the deeply notched leaf, now looseneG
from the stem about which it had beer
folded, diminutive mandarins, with
their umbrellas half or fully spread tc
the warm sun. l have, however, al
times known the most familiar, honely
and serviceable plants to exercise spells
of the enchanter. One summer, having
my study in an old house through whose
broken window entered a weak, pallid
yard-long spray of grapevine, it seemed
to me, as 1 sat by my little table a
work, that this branch strove with al
its feeble powers to reach me and pc
tition for support. l even fancied E
slight oscillation moved it (when there
was no stir of the air), and that if
would patiently hold out to it my little
finger the vine-b branch might in few
hours clasp it with grateful tendrils
Had it done so, who knows whether it,
spell might ever have been reversed
and 1 released from durance?-EditI
| M. Thomas. in Atlantic.