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FEBRUARY TWENTY-SECOND. St. Margaret's
Day, and of course the Daisy or Herb Marguerite is her
flower. The French name for Daisy is "Pâquerette," and
the Welsh call it "trembling star." We have all felt the
charm, in the "
merry merry days when we were young,'
of plucking the petals, whispering the while with beating
heart the old refrain: "Il m'aime un peu, beaucoup,
passionnément, pas de tout." Chaucer likened a perfect
woman to a daisy, with heart of gold and crown of in-
nocence. Here are his lines :-

"As she that is of all flouris the floure,
Fullfilled of all virtue and honoure;
And ever alike fair and fresh of hewe,
As well in winter as in summer newe,
As soon as ever the Sunne ginneth west
To sene this floure, how it will goe to rest,
For fear of night so hateth she darknesse
Her chere is plainly spread in the brightnesse
Of the Sunne, for there it will unclose.
Well by reason men it calle maie

The Däisie, or elsi the Eye of the Daie."

We know that a lady sang a "Bargonet" in praise of the Daisy, "Si donce est la Margarete," and Dryden tells us a Lady of his sang a "Virelay," saying, "The Daisy is so sweet." Dear "pearl flower," we love the chains made of your tiny blooms, and we watch you shut your petals as night draws her curtain over the world or raindrops fall. Truly the daisy is a flower of light and happiness. Ruskin writes: "It (the daisy) is infinitely dear as the bringer of light, ruby, white, and gold, the three colours of the day,

with no hue of shade in it."

FEBRUARY TWENTY-THIRD.-My trees are doing well in the field. I watch them daily with loving care, and hoe them well. Nothing makes young trees grow like hoeing. Always after a shower we stir the earth well. My aspen tree already stirs its leaves. Populus tremula is such a pretty name, "Which word is borrowed from the French men, who name it Tremble. It also received a name amongst the low-Country men from the noise and rattling of the leaves, viz. Rateeler: and may also be called Tremble, considering it is the matter whereof women's tongues were made (as the Poets and some others report), which seldome cease wagging." So writes Gerard; but I will never believe poets were so rude as he states.

Of the Elder tree "I hold it needless to write any description of this, since every boy that plays with a popgun will not mistake another tree instead of the elder," writes Culpepper.

"The Chestnut Tree groweth very tall and high, bearing great, long, rough, and wrinkled Leaves, dented about the edges, putting forth at the time of the year divers long Catkins or bloomings, somewhat like the oak but of a more greenish-yellow colour; the Fruit groweth between the leaves and the branches towards the end of them, enclosed in three severall Huskes, the outermost whereof is whitish and prickly like an Urchin, which openeth it selfe when it is ripe, and sheweth the Nut." This is W. Cole's description of a Spanish chestnut (1657).

FEBRUARY TWENTY-FOURTH.-"And because, the Breath of Flowers, is farre Sweeter in the Aire (where it comes and Goes, like the Warbling of Musick) then in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight, then to know, what be the Flowers, and Plants, that doe best perfume the Aire. Roses, Damask and Red, are fast Flowers of their Smels; So that you may walke by a whole Row of them and finde Nothing of their Sweetnesse; Yea though it, in a Morning's Dew. Bayes like wise yeeld no Smell, as they grow. Rosemary little; nor Sweet-Marioram. That, which above all Others, yeelds the Sweetest Smell in the Aire, is the Violet; Specially the White-double-Violet, which comes twice Yeare; a About the middle of Aprill, and about Bartholomew-tide. Next to that is the Muske-Rose. Then the Strawberry-Leaves dying, which (yeeld) a most Excellent Cordiall Smell. Then Sweet Briar. Then WallFlowers, which are very Delightfull, to be set under a Parler or Lower Chamber Window. Then Pincks, and Gilly Flowers, specially the Matted Pinck, and Close GillyFlower. Then the flowers of the Lime tree. Then the Honey-Suckles, so they be somewhat a farre off. Of Beane Flowers I speake not, because they are Field Flowers. But those which Perfume the Aire most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being Troden upon and Crushed, are Three: That is Barnet, Wilde-Time, and Water-Mints. Therefore you are to set whole Allies of them, to have the Pleasure, when you walke or tread."-Bacon's Essay "Of Gardens."

FEBRUARY TWENTY-FIFTH.

"Ah! love, you have such a February face
So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness."

Forget not that the blue sky is behind the clouds. That the year is turned and spring will soon be here. Why, the snowdrops and crocuses are brave enough to face the storm, and why not you? You, with the strength of God within you. Soon will come the time when

"The skies, the clouds, the fields,
The happy violets hiding from the roads,
The primroses run down to, carrying gold ;
The tangled hedgerows, where the cows push out
Impatient horns and tolerant churning mouths
'Twixt dripping ash-boughs-hedgerows all alive,
With birds and gnats and large white butterflies,
Which look as if the May-flower had caught life
And palpitated forth upon the wind."

Messages come to us on the shaft of a sunbeam-messages of love; and, after all, I would have you remember we cannot have a rainbow without a storm. Light would not be light unless compared with darkness. Our aim should be to keep the sun shining in our hearts, and in our faces, through the falling of the leaves, and the bitter cold and desolation of winter, and the waiting of spring, then storm and cloudiness will not make a burden of the day. Let not your heart be weary, if the day be long; rest will be more perfect, and there is still so much we can do.

"What time the Sun by his all-quick'ning power
Gives life and birth to every plant and flower,
The strength and fervour of whose pregnant ray
Buds every branch, and blossoms every spray.”

FEBRUARY TWENTY-SIXTH.

"Ah, too true! Time's current strong
Leaves us fixt to nothing long.

Yet, if little stays with man,

Ah, retain we all we can!
If the clear impression dies,

Ah! the dim remembrance prize!
Ere the parting hours go by,
Quick, thy tablets, Memory."

I wish we wrote down our impressions more than we do. To see the waves of thought we have passed through, to note the moods of years gone by. Perhaps it is best to go straight forward, and not to waste time on the long ago. There is work to be done, by word and deed, and we have no excuse for sitting idle.

"There never yet was flower fair in vain,
Let classic poet rhyme it as he will;
The seasons toil that it may blow again,

And summer's heart doth feel its every ill;
Nor is a true soul ever born for naught;
Wherever any such hath lived and died,
There hath been something for true freedom wrought,
Some bulwark levelled on the evil side!
Toil on, then, Greatness! thou art in the right,
However narrow souls call thee wrong;
Be as thou wouldst be in thine own clear sight,
And so thou shalt be in the world's ere long ;
For worldlings cannot, struggle as they may,
From man's great soul one great thought hide away!"

may

I add the prophet-painter's motto :—

"The utmost for the highest."

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