means of punches, of which she has as many
different sizes as there are petals in the rose
to be imitated. Then she, or some other
dexterous worker, holds each petal by a light
grasp with pincers, dips it into carmine dye,
then dips it into water (to soften the intensity
of the colour near the edges), then touches it
with a brush 'to deepen the tint near the
centre, and then brushes in the tints of any
little variegated spots or markings which the
petal may require. While the petals are
thus receiving their form and adornments,
the leaves are being fashioned by other
hands. They consist of small pieces of Florentine
sarsenet, previously dyed to the proper
tint, and then stretched while wet, that they
may dry out smoothly. We all know that the
two surfaces of a leaf present very different
appearances; and the cunning of the
imitator does not neglect this circumstance;
for while she glazes one surface of her sarsenet
leaf with thin gum-water, she imitates
the velvet texture of the other with a layer
of fine flock or cloth-powder, or sometimes
by means of a wash of coloured starch-water.
Nor are the ribs of the leaves neglected; for
several leaves, placed one upon another, are
pressed between gauffroirs or goffering-irons
of such patterns as to give the requisite
markings or embossment. The little leaves
or leaflets which form the calyx are cut or
punched out of sarsenet, stiffened with starch-
water after the dyeing.

The tiny buds are curiosities; they go
beyond the region of cambric or sarsenet;
for they are often made of kid, dyed or
painted to the proper tint, stuffed out into
bud-like shape by an interior of cotton, or
of gummed flax, or of crumb of bread, and
tied with silk to pieces of thin iron wire.
Whether Nature can make a bud more
easily than a petal, she does not tell us;
but Nature's imitators certainly find that
it requires a greater variety of materials.
By the aid of bits of brass wire and little
knots of silk, the stamens and their anthers
are imitated; and, by dipping the little silken
anther into a glutinous liquid, it is made to
retain a few very small seeds which represent
the pollen. When these and a few other
component parts are completed, and when an
imitative stalk has been made by coating iron
wire with cotton and green paper, the whole
are built up artistically together into the
form of a rose—a rose not intended to "blush
unseen," for it will parade itself very bravely
on some tasteful bonnet or jaunty cap; nor
to "waste its sweetness on the desert air," for
it happens that cambric, and sarsenet, and
kid, and gum-water, and flock, and wire have
no sweetness to waste.

Far be it from us to say that this is
the only mode of making a rose. Little do
we doubt that all sorts of substitutes could
be found for all of these materials, under the
skilful hands of our magic rose-makers. Nay,
those who look about them with well-opened
eyes will meet with artificial flowers made of
feathers, of shells, of wax, of insects, of lace,
of hair, of coral, of sea-weed, of ivory, of
whalebone, of cloves, of nutmeg, of pimento, of
gems, of maple, of box, of satin wood, of ebony
—even of granite and marble and coal. One of
the most beautiful productions displayed in the
greatest of great exhibitions was a group of
flowers made of Brazilian feathers. The South
American birds are unrivalled in any part of
the world for the gorgeous splendour of their
plumage, and this plumage thus becomes a
fitting material for imitating the equally
dazzling splendour of South American flowers.
The specimen under notice was a bouquet of
flowers, including those of the coffee, cotton,
and tobacco plants, all made of Brazilian
feathers. English shells are, for the most
part, far from being sufficiently beautiful for
this art; yet those of the Atlantic are
sometimes made up into delicate and lovely
bouquets.

We must now do honour to the artists
in wax. Miss Agnes Strickland in her
life of James the Second's second wife, has
something to say about wax flowers. "The
beautiful imitations of natural flowers in
wax which have lately afforded an attractive
exercise for the taste and ingenuity of
many of our youthful countrywomen, were
first introduced into England by the mother
of Mary Beatrice, as a present to her royal
daughter; as we find by the following
passage in a contemporary letter from a
correspondent of. the Lady Margaret Russell,
which gives some information relative to the
ornamental works then in vogue among ladies
of rank in the court of Mary Beatrice. 'In
gum flowers, Mrs. Booth tells me you and she
is to doe something in that work which I
suppose must be extraordinary. I hope it
will be as great perfection as the fine
waxwork ye queen has, of nun's work, of fruit
and flowers, that her mother did put up for
her, and now she has 'em both for her chapel
and her rooms. I do not know whether they
be the four seasons of the year, but they say
they are done so well, that they that see 'em
can hardly think 'em other than the real.'"

Who can forget, after having once seen
them, the recent productions of our lady wax
flower-makers! How this simple material
is fashioned into glorious imitative flowers is
something to be admired and marvelled at.
Wax faces we do not like: they are always
—waxy; but the soft texture of wax renders
it well suited for imitating flowers.

Wax flower-making has its literature. One
authoress—in a smart little blue-covered,
gilt-edged, hot-pressed, coloured-plated Royal
Guide to Wax-Flower Modelling—tells her
readers what they will have to procure,
before they can become amateur artists in
wax flowers. How that they must have
white wax, yellow wax, orange wax, pink
wax, and green wax; that they must have