clustering around the sweet infant face; so many nights the same bright vision--with the same wreath which I myself placed on her head, of May's pale flowers, and she the palest. Only lilies of the valley, I remember, seemed fitting for my darling's brow, or to grow on ANNIE'S GRAVE. Bright Roses, wither on the spray! Your sweetness mocks the doom Of her whose cheeks, so pale to-day, Were rivals of your bloom. Sweet Violets, I charge ye, fade! Wear not those robes of blue, For eyes are closed which Nature made Of a more lovely hue. Pale Lilies, sad and drooping low, With perfume like her breath, On Annie's grave alone shall grow, _Fair flower, plucked by Death_. * * * * * Call it an affectation, if you will, but I never take a flower from its home without a slight twinge of pain. I _know_ it suffers! However, I have no scruples in accepting flowers after they are plucked by others. So pray do not hesitate about sending me that superb bouquet, which you intended to send me _to-morrow_! Have you never observed the brutal habit which 'some persons' have, of recklessly attacking shrubs and flowers, as though they were rank weeds (or secessionists), and, without in the least enjoying their spoils, tossing their quivering, trembling victims aside, before they are dead or even withered? Such are not worthy of flowers, excepting French flowers, which are not supposed to suffer. Oh, my countrywomen! would that they _did_ suffer a little from our neglect. Do you know who Lacoontola is? I have made her acquaintance this summer, and find it one of the compensations for passing the summer in town. She is to be found at the City Library--'Lacoontola, or, The Fatal Ring,' translated from the Sanscrit. Go there for her, I pray you, and you will admire with me the exquisite description of her tenderness to these 'flower people,' as Mrs. Mann calls them. But, pardon! You who belong to the 'highest orders' must be already intimate with Mlle. Lacoontola, for she is highly connected: her papa was a king (quite equal in position to Mr. Abe Lincoln); her mamma, I regret to state, though a very charming person, was an actress or goddess, or something in that line. Lacoontola, however, in spite of her papa's indiscretion, married a prince, and was, in fact, perfectly genteel and quite religious. Before her marriage, she appears to have 'lived in the woods' the year round; her wardrobe being 'turu-lural.' She used to wear the 'dearest' little zouave of the 'tender bark' of the 'Aurora tree.' 'Rich and rare were the gems she wore,' for her bracelets were the 'long perfumed stems of the waterlilies!' and in her hair the lotus flower, in place of a lace _barbe_!