to carry a bouquet— of which our broom, on
ships for sale, is the ironical representative.
And— most ungallant expression— a young lady
open to an offer of marriage, is said to wear a
bouquet on her ear.

The modern bouquet is a novel application of
the materials composing the flowery crowns and
garlands of the ancients, the use of which, saith
Sir Thomas Browne, "is of no slender antiquity,
and higher than I conceive you apprehend it!"
Like them, they are either gestatory, such as they
wore about their heads and necks; portatory,
such as they carried at solemn festivals; pensile
or suspensory, such as they hung about the
posts of their houses; or else they are depository,
such as they laid upon the graves and
monuments of the'dead. They are also " made
up after all ways of art, compactile, sutile, plectile,
for which work there were are ??? ??????????,
or expert persons, to contrive them after the
best grace and propriety."

Bouquets may be ranged in two great divisions,
the artistical or picturesque, and the regular and
formal. The flrst belongs to the painter's art,
the second trenches on the jeweller's. It is a
mosaic of petalled gems. Picturesque bouquets,
again, may be subdivided into bouquets with
backs— bouquets to be placed against a wall, with
all their flowers and foliage facing one way; and
round bouquets, to stand in the centre of a room
or table, and which must show a goodly countenance
in whichever direction they are beheld.
These stand at the head of their class; they are
works of high art; their composition requires a
touch of genius. Their successful and satisfactory
putting together demands an eye for symmetry
of form and harmony of colour, besides
architectural and engineering skill, to render
the edifice firm on its basis, and secure from
the dangers of unstable equilibrium.

For these large monumental bouquets an
additional talent is required— namely, the
administrative faculty to make the most of scanty
materials. To have to fill a tall vase with a
corresponding bouquet; to be short of flowers;
to have to make up the deficiency with grass,
corn, branches of shrubs, berries, mossy sticks,
or whatever else can be grouped into a pleasing
whole, and to produce a triumphant result, is
no mean achievement of art and good management.
There must not be too much of one
colour, nor too much repetition of one form; and
yet the bouquet must have graceful proportions
combined with a meaning and character of its
own. The proper sphere for such colossal
groups is public buildings and palatial residences.

For smaller dwellings, on the other hand, a
decoration of exquisite simplicity consists of
bouquets entirely composed of one single species
of flower, and even of one single variety of that
species, when gardening resources admit of it—
which is not always the case. For instance, a
single, well-shaped, liberal-sized bunch of
mignionette, or forget-me-not, or lilies of the valley,
or double yellow wallflower, unpretending as
they are, has its effect. It indicates singleness
of mind on the part of the person who adopts it.
Other flowers which may be so employed, are
jonquils, anemones (either all single or all
double), and the Persian lilac, forced in the dark
to whiten it. Try, again, a bouquet of tea roses
only, of various sorts; or all moss roses; or of
one sort of white rose only; or, as a delicacy of
the highest, order, of one sort of rosebuds only
(of some salmon-coloured, light yellow, or pale-
blush tint), rejecting the full-blown blooms, or
rather reserving them for ot her purposes. Note
that all the bouquets hitherto mentioned are
intended to be kept in water, and that they
reckon upon an existence of some little duration
— three or four days, perhaps five or six.

For we now approach more ephemeral subjects
— the ball bouquet, the bouquet to be
tossed to an actress or sent to match a lady's
evening dress. Such brilliant, gewgaw, toy-like
bouquets are made, not for, but by the
million. They are floral bubbles which rise in
shoals to the surface of society, and then burst
and disappear. Did you ever dissect a dead bouquet?
Better than dissecting, is to fabricate one.

I am a gardener, a town gardener, and a
flower gardener, with a large extent of high-rented
ground under flowers only. Bouquets
afford me considerable aid in paying my rent
and my workmen's wages. While we are
discussing the merits of rose novelties— [By the
way, can you give me buds or cuttings of
perpetual white roses which open well? We want
such heaps of white roses for bouquets]— enters
a midde-aged female, who is either a letter of
furnished apartments, or Horace Walpole's
Mysterious Mother.

"Your pleasure, ma'am?"

"A handsome bouquet, if you please, sir, to
suit dark hair and brune complexion. I was
ordered to pay for it."

"We have none made up at present; but
you shall have it in half an hour, if you will
tell me where to send it."

"I don't know exactly, sir, whether— whether
I may tell you where where it is— it is to be
sent. The gentleman——"

"Very well, ma'am. Have the goodness,
then, to wait while we are preparing it. Take
a seat; or, if you prefer it, a walk round the
garden."

To execute the lady's confidential command,
I snatch my flat open basket, and rush to the,
fuchsia-bed, where I gather simply a dozen
different blossoms. Next, a good handful of dark
inky heliotrope; then, a still larger handful of
scarlet geranium; next, a good lot of fancy
pelargoniums of various hues; next, a handsome
bunch of gypsophila— little white starlike
flowers, quivering at the tip of an elastic hair-like
stem; and plenty of bright yellow calceolaria.
The rose-ground gives me one very
beautiful half opened Gloire de Dijon, and half
a score or so of pure while Aimée Viberts.
You observe that I take no flower-stems which
carry buds. If we had to sacrifice flower-bearing
stems and buds, bouquet-making would
soon be at an end.