Such flowers and characters then prize From "Gems of Natural Poetry." B The Crocus. PATIENCE. RAVING the rough wild winds and heavy showers of sleet and hail, the Crocus comes to make the trying months of February and March bright with its beautiful golden, purple, and white flowers: how pretty they look in our garden borders or springing up among the grass on the sloping banks or lawns! Some botanists consider it a native of England, while others say that the yellow Crocus was only brought from Syria to this country about two hundred years ago: both the golden and purple flowers grow wild in Italy on the Alps and in one place close down by the sea; in Greece the mountains are covered with them, and very lovely it must be to see them glowing in radiant beauty under the brilliant southern sky. In England they are found in great quantities round Nottingham; the root dies down every year after forming one or two new bulbs by its side, and so, gradually, the plant changes its place till it comes quite out of the H border where it was first planted. There is one sort called the net-rooted Crocus on account of the strong wiry fibres over the bulb which form a curious net-work. There is an old fable which tells us that the plant took its name from a youth, named Crocus, who fell deeply in love with a beautiful nymph, and who was so impatient to marry her, that he was punished by being turned into a flower. Besides the lovely spring Crocuses there is another kind which flowers in the autumn, valuable for its production of saffron. It is cultivated in England in fields, and gave its name to the town of Saffron Walden, where it was grown as early as the reign of Edward III. In some of the Grecian islands it grows very abundantly, and the villagers make quite a business of preparing the saffron for sale: in many countries they use it as a cordial medicine, and make scent from it, and when they send their letters of invitation to grand feasts they write them on paper flowered with gold and sprinkled with saffron. A beautiful yellow dye is also obtained from the saffron: it is made of the stamens of the Crocus, which has to be gathered early in the day, while the sun's rays are powerful the people gather the flowers in baskets, carry them to their homes, pick out the threads which are in the middle of the blossom, and then dry them in kilns and press them into cakes, when they are ready for sale. The Greeks have a very curious way of selling their saffron by the weight of a hen's egg; they do not care whether the egg be large or small, provided it is not very much below or above the usual size, nor do they pay any regard to its freshness, though it is well-known that an egg which has been long kept weighs much heavier than a new laid one; no, it is enough for the Greek peasant to see his saffron cake fairly weighed in the scale against an egg, and he is quite content with his bargain. very remarkable thing about the which, unlike most plants, does its seed when the flower fades. The seeds lie buried in the bulb through the winter, and when spring comes the broad green leaves rise up, and the seeds, raised up on a stalk, gradually increase in size and ripen by Midsummer: we see in this a wonderful instance of our Heavenly Father's love and care over the flowers of the field, for as this plant comes so late in autumn, the seeds would not There is one saffron Crocus not bring forth have time to ripen before the frosts came, which would destroy them altogether, and so God has made this special arrrangement for their protection in the earth from the cold, till they can safely rise to meet the sun which shall ripen, and the wind which shall scatter them. Now, what special lesson shall we learn from the Crocus? I think it speaks very plainly to us of endurance and patience, two very necessary graces for us to strive after, if we would be faithful soldiers of our Lord Jesus Christ. Patience may well be called the watch-word of a soldier's life; he needs it through the long training and discipline he must undergo to fit him for his work, in all the hardships and sufferings, the long night watches, and weary marches in the bitter frosts of winter, or beneath the burning rays of summer. How our hearts thrill with pride when we read or hear of our brave soldiers in far off lands, bearing with uncomplaining patience all the toils of battle, all the pangs of thirst, the pain of weariness and wounds, to uphold the honour of their Queen and country! Nowhere was the great patience of our troops more tried, and nowhere was it more nobly shown, than in the Crimean war, |