AMONG THE ROSES.


COME, let us go out among the roses. It is the month of June, the month of roses, in the New England States at least, and we must write upon that regal flower at this season, when the air is perfumed with its sweetness, and even the school-children carry their hands filled with roses as they pass the house.

The varieties of roses are almost innumerable. In 1798 there were but forty-four species of roses known and described by botanists and florists; but now there are supposed to be between seven and eight thousand varieties, and each one is a thing of beauty.

All over the earth roses bloom and fade away in every month in the year; on the far-off Western prairies, and even on the barren islands of the North Sea, their sweet petals open to the sunlight, and where no grasses or cereals can grow, rose bushes will thrive and bloom, and shed their sweetness on the air. Siberia, the desert land of Russia, has two varieties of roses; one with a chalice-shaped coronal, and one which bears a pulpy seed-pod that is eatable; while under the deep snows of Lapland hide the tiny sweet-scented roses, patiently awaiting the time when the sun returns to that clime, and kisses their buds into bloom for a few short weeks.

In the desert of Sahara, where infrequent springs form the only oases amid the sands, the white Moss Rose is indigenous. Within the Arctic Zone, where the year is divided into one long day and night, the rose flowers, and the wild Tungus concoct a favorite beverage from its sweet petals.  Even in North Labrador the rose adorns the short summers; and amid our own Rocky Mountains grow thousands of lovely, pale-tinted clusters of single roses as fragrant as those of our own gardens.

Thus we see that everywhere the rose is loved and cherished; but in Asia there are a greater number of species and varieties than in all the rest of the world, thirty-nine native species being found there, while China, the Flowery Kingdom, is renowned for its roses, and the inhabitants are very skillful in their culture.

The daily rose is very beautiful when in bud or half opening, as its pale-red petalscontrast charmingly with the rich green of its foliage.

There is one variety of rose that is much esteemed by the Chinese on account of the velvety softness of the leaves. They call it Hai-tong-kong. Another variety native to China grows into a tall tree covered with clusters of red roses.

Space would fail me to enumerate the varieties of native roses scattered all over the globe. We of the north country can know but little of the wondrous glories of the rose when seen in its native habitation. During the last decade our florists have made their culture a specialty, and there are acres and acres of them planted out, and millions of strong plants sold every spring.

At Hildesheim Cathedral there is a rose-bush which is believed to be over a thousand years old. In recent years it seems to have been getting into decrepitude, and fears have been entertained that it was going to die. 

The help of the most renowned gardeners has been called in to prevent this, if possible, and several foreigners have been on the spot for this purpose. Whether it be due to their efforts or not, the old bush seems to have taken fresh heart again. Out of the root-knobs of the bush a new sprout has appeared, which is growing so vigorously that there is good hope that this venerable rose stock may yet "renew its youth." 





Daisy EYEBRIGHT