Of late years the hyacinth has risen into great honor; but the tulip is still king of the gardens, and Holland's supreme affection.

" "Is there no hope, Aunt Tulip?

The TULIP (tulipa) is the glory of the garden, as far as color without fragrance can confer such distinction.

On turnips feast whene'er you please, And riot in my beans and peas; If the potato's taste delights, Or the red carrot's sweet invites, Indulge thy morn and evening hours, But let due care regard my flowers: 20 My tulips are my garden's pride, What vast expense those beds supplied!'

The tulips are all a-blaze and a-stare, making one blink with the dazzle of their odorless beauty: the frolicsome young wind is shaking out their balm from the hyacinth-bells, and the sweet Nanciesmy flowersblowing all together, are swaying and congéeing to the morning airs.

"Aunt Tulip," I said, gravely, "are you voodoo?" "Folks says ah is, Mars' Ormon'," she said, in her soft Georgia accent.