a corrective of the
impurities of the atmosphere. Plants, too, are valuable as tests of
the vitality of the atmosphere; their drooping and failure convey to
us information that something is amiss with it. A lady once told me
that she could never raise plants in her parlors on account of the gas
and anthracite coal. I answered, "Are you not afraid to live and bring
up your children in an atmosphere which blights your plants?" If the
gas escape from the pipes, and the red-hot anthracite coal or the
red-hot air-tight stove burns out all the vital part of the air, so
that healthy plants in a few days wither and begin to drop their
leaves, it is sign that the air must be looked to and reformed. It is
a fatal augury for a room that plants cannot be made to thrive in it.
Plants should not turn pale, be long-jointed, long-leaved, and
spindling; and where they grow in this way, we may be certain that
there is a want of vitality for human beings. But where plants appear
as they do in the open air, with vigorous, stocky growth, and
short-stemmed, deep-green leaves, we may believe the conditions of
that atmosphere are healthy for human lungs.

It is pleasant to see how the custom of plant growing has spread
through our country. In how many farmhouse windows do we see petunias
and nasturtiums vivid with bloom, while snows are whirling without,
and how much brightness have those cheap enjoyments shed on the lives
of those who cared for them! We do not believe there is a human being
who would not become a passionate lover of plants, if circumstances
once made it imperative to tend upon and watch the growth of one. The
history of Picciola for substance has been lived over and over by many
a man and woman who once did not know that there was a particle of
plant-love in their souls. But to the proper care of plants in pots
there are many hindrances and drawbacks. The dust chokes the little
pores of their green lungs, and they require constant showering; and
to carry all one's plants to a sink or porch for this purpose is a
labor which many will not endure. Consequently plants often do not get
a showering once a month! We should try to imitate more closely the
action of Mother Nature, who washes every green child of hers nightly
with dews, which lie glittering on its leaves till morning.

* * * * *

"Yes, there it is!" said Jenny. "I think I could manage with plants,
if it were not for this eternal showe