The Indianapolis journal., 1903-11-15

That shall give our golden dreams surcease,
When the hopes of youth are stripped and
torn.
And our ships go down in midnight seas,
After the storm may souls arise
Pure and calm from the shattering blast,
Made strong and brave by sacrifice.
With earnest purpose. for hopes Ger pasti
The flower show was splendid, glorious,
marvellous. 1t seemed incredible that roses,
carnations and chrysanthemums should
have attained to such
Flower Shows magnificence. But-are
and Flowers. these flowers? They
are fit adjuncts TO
pomp and luxury; they belong with jewels
and lace and velvets; their proper place is
in the boudoirs and drawing rooms Of pal
aces, on the tables of superb royal ban
quets. But there is more happiness to be
got out of one scant handful of hepaticas
and bloodroot, starry miracles OF spring,
gathered with toll from among the withered
leaves Of a tangled thicket, than from all
this pomp and pride of the greenhouse and
the gardeners art.
These splendors have no place in the five
.hundred glorious years of English poetry.
No Chaucer ever had "such love and such
devocioun' for half-bushel chrysanthe-
NUNS as to rise before dawn and kneel
upon "the snalle, softe, sweete grass" to
see the first blossom of spring open. That
honor was reserved for the common English
daisy, 'the day-es eye, or elles the eye of
day." No Shakespeare sang thus of flower
show wonders
When daisies pied and violets blue
And lady-smocks all silver-white
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue.
Do paint the 1,s meadows with delight.
That come before the swallow dares. and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets. dim.
But sweeter than the lids OF Junos eyes
They never marked for Ben Jonson the
path of Earine.
Here was she wont to go. and here, and here.
Just where these vtolets pinks and daisies grow
The world may find the spring by following her;
Or brought before Wordsworth's memory
THAT inward eye, that is the bliss of soli-
tude," the vision Of "A crowd, a host Of
dancing daffodils;" or made Helen Hunt
"Glad. remembering how the 1.-the red
poppies ran amongst the wheat. or
watched through the night in Maud's gar
den with Tennyson-
The slender acacia would not shake
One long milk bloom on the tree.
The white lake-blossom fell into the lake,
But the rose awake all night for your
sake,
Knowing your promise to me.
The roses and lilies were all awake,
They longed for the morning and thee
Not that would undervalue the glory of
these triupphs of the horticultural art, or
the skill that produced them. I wish some
| small part of the skill could have been
devoted to saving for the world, unim-
proved and unchanged, the inexpressible
loveliness of the early spring flowers of the
prairies Of the middle West. The wood
| land flowers have survived, but the fatal
| facility of cultivation has swept away the
exquisite treasures of spring on the prairie,
and with them there has passed a glory
from the earth"
Sometimes, in their pride and vainglory,
men point out that while a girl is often
heard to wish she were boy. and a WON,
an that she were a
An Apprecfative man, the reverse
Youngster. aspiration is un-
| known to human
| experience. They will please take notice
that we do not really aspire to belong to
the other sex, but only to have masculine
opportunities or masculine pay. And now
we have some one 20 keep us In counte-
nance. There is a beautiful little five-year-
a
ness man, who wishes that he were a
lady, so that he could wear trimmed hats!
Almost any day he may be seen, gracefully
gliding around in a long silk skirt, tenderly
holding his doll with one hand and holding
up his train with the other. Behind him
marches his two-year-old sister. her hands
In the pockets of her overalls! The little
! fellow is really a connoisseur in ladies'
hats. He said politely last spring. to a
young lady of his acquaintance who was
wearing a very plain hat: Miss Lizzie.
| IL you want your hat all black, don't you
| think some jet ornaments would brighten 1t
up? And you know. Miss Lizzie, they all
do wear something hanging down behind"
And this fall, his aunt, who was trimming
hat for herself, remarked in a puzzled
tone. Now 1 wonder where that plume
ought to CO."
| Put IL right there auntie," said the
small boy, pointing with his finger to the
exact spot which proved to be the effective
| one.
| His happiest hours are when he is given
some old hats and trimmings and allowed TO
arrange them he pleases. He was visit
ing another aunt recently. and discovered
a treasure-an old leghorn hat hanging up
| in the woodshed. 1t was given him, and
then he begged for trimmings.
I'm sorry, Charlie, but auntie is so busy
this morning that / don't see how she can
| spare the time to look up trimming for
YOU"
do you see that pear tree, auntie?''
pointing to one whose leaves were gorgeous
with autumn tintings. You know they are
using foliage a great deal on hats this
fall. and If l may have branch of that
and some pins, it will be all / need. /
don't like TO trouble you when you are SO
busy, but / do want them very much"