The herald., 1897-04-24
All werc free, and wandering,
And all exclaim'd to all they met
That never did the summer bring
So gay O Feast of Roses yet.

That never DID tne suulnieT Ofhk
So gay q Feast OF Roses yet.
In very truth it was veritable feast
Of roses, and not only roses, but all
other flowers that are produced so pro-
lifically in the southland. And the
thousands of people that filled the trio-
unes, how shout of appreciation went
up when any especially beautiful deco
rative effect drove by
The universal heart of man blesses
Mowers! They are wreathed around the
cradle, the marriage altar and the tomb.
The Persian in the far east delights in
their perfume, and writes his love in
nosegays; while the Indian child in our
own western country claps his hands
with glee as he gathers the abundant
blossoms-the illuminated scriptures of
the prairies. The Cupid of the ancient
Hindoos tipped his arrows witS flowers,
and orange blossoms are bridal crown
with us-a nation of yesterday. Flow
ers garlanded the Grecian altar and
hung in votive wreath before the Chris
tian shrine.
Old and young, grave and gay, AL
unite in a love for flowers, and many
philosophers have not thought it be-
meath their dignity to speak in raptur-
Gus terms on the subject. Homer. Virgil
and Horace, the three greatest geniuses
of antiquity, have written lovingly about
the floral kingdom, and Virgil in par
ticular wrote an entire book on the art
of planting. Even Epicurus could not
imagine perfect qualification of the
senses amid any other scene than the
odorous offerings of a flower garden.
. AN INTERNATIONAL BOND
Little wonder, then, that wherever
stranger wanders throughout South
ern California he should find flowers
of all kinds and varieties on every hand.
The weather recently has not been all
that might be desired or the display
made yesterday would have been even
more gloriously bountiful than it was.
Only a few short years ago everyone
having any pretensions to cultivation
was more or less acquainted with the
Language of Flowers" and even to-
day there are lovesick couples who with
flowers convey the meaning their
tongues refuse to utter.
Such as these, oftener than not, are
a 1aughingstock for their friends, and
yet of a truth there is a language of
f1owers-every blossom, almost, being
identified with some story of love, of
hope, of constancy. and not infrequent-
ly Of tragic death. The wild mustard,
the Gala lily. the empurpled wisteria,
the marigold, and all the flowers that
were used in such profusion yesterday
mot forgetting the very queen of fiow-
ers-are all linked with incidents that
have become historic.
OF the many varieties of roses used for
decorative purposes in the floral parade
yesterday the Jacqueminot was the
most bounteous; and yet how many of
the spectators remembered, If they ever
knew, how it came that the famous
French generals gave their names to
two most delightful varieties of roses
the Marechal Mel and the Jacquemi-
not?
''who is there now knows aught of his
What is left of him but name?
OF him who shared in Napoleon's glory
And dreamed that his sword had won him
fame!
'.Ahi the fate of a man is past discerning!
Little did Jacqueminot suppose,
At Austerlitz or at Moscow's burning,
That his fame would rest in the heart of a
rose"
The story has been told, but it is full
of the sweetness of human pathos and
by a re-telling may help some to love
the ruddy tints of the velvety petaled
rose with greater appreciation than
before.
ONLY A ROSE!
General Jacqueminot, one of Bona
parties bravest officers, was a man of
strong feelings and furious passions.
He had always been accustomed to
prompt and absolute obedience, and
exacted it from all about him. While
in the West Indies be had married very
young. He had but one child, Margue-
rite, who was his ALL and she recipro-
Gated her fathers fondness and affec-
tion. She was 16 years Old, and a wo-
man, for those of the tropics step from
childhood to manhood or womanhood
in brief stride. The girl was much
alone and imaginative, and the son of
her fathers neighbor, who was only Is,
was Just home from school.
One afternoon her father returned
from the court of the French consul in
4 bad temper and missed his daughter
Her nurse, frightened out of her wits,
Hammered out that she did not know