s of silken buds and opening
blossoms, in every shade from lemon to purest white.

How dainty!--how exquisite! Here and there a full-blown rose showed its
closely folded centre, and long slender petals so delicately hung that a
breath might scatter them.

Along the walls were trained vine-like Marshal Neils, with great golden
buds and blossoms, while below rows of Safranos lifted fragrant cups
rivalling in tint the bloom of an apricot's cheek.

In a second "rosery" we were fairly smothered in sweets. Scores of pale
pink Hermanos, blushing Bon Silenes, and Plantiers--living balls of
snow--and white Lamarques mingled their spicy breaths in one soft cloud
of incense. Pink and white, ruby, buff, and golden, they hung and nodded
on every stem, till, like Aladdin in the magician's garden, we knew not
which way to turn.

As for the "carnation houses," they made us think of spice islands
floating on seas of green; the "pansy houses" were beds of gold and
amethyst; the "violet houses" and "smilax greeneries," perfect visions
of spring.

There were, besides, ferns, lilies-of-the-valley, camellias on tall
tree-like shrubs that made quite a respectable forest in a house by
themselves, and rows upon rows of dainty pink, crimson, and white
primroses.

Like a true artist, the florist had reserved his most wonderful picture
for the last. As he opened the door of an Easter bulb house, he said,
"What do you think of that?"

With a cry of delight, as the glory of colors burst upon her, Nell stood
entranced in the doorway. Down the middle of the house hundreds and
hundreds of potted tulips flamed and glowed with vivid dyes.

On either side the long walks, on the shelves, stood rows and rows of
hyacinths in splendid bloom.

Here vases and urns of yellow, purple, saffron, scarlet, pink and white,
pied and streaked with living flames.

There bells of ivory, azure, lilac, rose, and buff, fluted, feathered,
fringed, and spicy sweet.

It seemed as if some fairy alchemist had melted in magic crucible topaz,
ruby, sapphire, gold, and amethyst, to deck each fragrant cup and bell.

THE SHORTEST BAMBOO; OR, HOW TO CATCH A THIEF.

AN EAST INDIAN STORY.[1]

There was a terrible stir in the barracks of the --th Native Infantry at
Sekundurabad (Alexander's Town) one bright morning at the beginning of
the "dry season." Some money had been stolen from the officers' quarters
during the night, and all that could be made out about it