WILD FLOWERS. 



MOTHER, see what beautiful flowers, and all of them grew in the field by themselves without any tending or watching."

"I think you can't mean just that, my dear. No flower ever grew without tending or watching!"

"Well, these did, mother, for I got them away down by the west woods, in a field where no one has been plowing or hoeing all this spring."

"Yes, my dear, I do not doubt that. I did not say that the flowers had been watched or tended by man, but God has been in the field, watching by night and by day. All the hours that you have been playing and sleeping, he has been at work on these lovely flowers, molding them into graceful forms, and painting them with all these beautiful colors. And he it was who sheltered them through the long, cold winter, and kept them from dying. Did you ever wonder how the world out of doors is kept warm?"

"O yes, mother, a great many times. 

Do tell me how it is."

"Well, you remember the horse-chestnut tree that stands in your Uncle Albert's front yard. In winter the buds on that tree look as if they were covered with a sort of varnish. This is the waterproof of the little leaves, given them to keep out the snow and rain. Towards spring, these outside leaves drop off, because they are not needed anymore.


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FLOWERS.




"Of all the things that God has made,

In this fair world of ours, 

Of all the things to me most dear, 

Are flowers, lovely flowers."



FLOWERS! Sweet flowers! 


How they spring up around our pathway, sprinkling the fields and adorning the garden! They are not confined to any place or country, but lift up their bright heads all over our land from the Atlantic to the Pacific "on the rugged rocky Eastern shore, on the fertile prairies, among the mountains and canyons of the Pacific slope throughout the sunny South, on every continent and the isles of the sea."

And they are welcomed by all, from the little child, who finds delight in the simple dandelion and buttercup of the field, to the learned botanist who makes them a study and recreation. 

Indeed, God has planted within us a strong love for these bright and beautiful creatures of his hand.

But in our Northern clime, as summer wanes, Jack Frost comes and nips our flowers and they sink down into their winter sleep, guarded and protected by kind dame Nature. Though this is the natural course, yet the florist is able to create such a scene as is represented in our picture, such a pleasing sight, even in winter. Though the snow without may lie many feet deep, the ice cover the rivers and ponds, and the winds come from their home in the frozen region of the North, yet by means of light and artificial heat, the shrubs, plants and flowers are cheated into the belief that it is summer, and they continue to grow, lifting up their heads, and nodding and smiling to each other.

Like all God's blessings, flowers are free. They grow alike for rich and poor. So sweet, so fresh, so fair are they, they bring comfort to the sick, showing, as they do, a tender Father's care.

Said a little girl, "Mamma, do you think there will be flowers in Heaven?" 

"There will be, I am sure," was the reply; "but they will be more beautiful then they are here, and they will be unfading." Yes; there will be flowers there; for Heaven is associated in our minds with everything that is beautiful, and surely! There will be flowers.

Look again at the picture, and see the different kinds of plants represented here; and yet these are but a small portion of the many kinds with which God has clothed and beautified the earth. Well might Linnaeus, the Swedish botanist, when beholding for the first time a beautiful flower, fall on his knees and thank God for thus adorning the earth for man's use.  And would it not be well for us, when we see so much beauty, to render to God a tribute of thanks for all his benefits?



 V. A. M.