"O ONCE more I take my pen in hand," as the old time epistle was wont to begin. While a "Young Farmer" discourseth of matters pertaining to the farm, I propose to talk to farmers' wives and daughters of matters relating to the flower garden. This article is specially dedicated to them, and not to them as a whole, but to that class among them who take no periodical devoted to flower culture, and find no time even to study the various catalogues scattered broadcast, as sure precursors of spring as are the falling leaves of autumn. Therefore you who have your floral papers, your bay windows filled with plants, or your fine conservatories, whether a farmer's wife or not, this is not written for you, and you need not read any further.

There are many farmers' wives who give little attention to the cultivation of flowers. Busy lives the most of them lead, and their indoor work shuts them off largely from the enjoyment of those beauties nature has so lavishly spread around them. It is a pity that any of them should say, "I have no time to waste over flowers; they bring neither food nor clothing."

Call that wasted time when tired, nervous, fretful perhaps, you leave the heated rooms and run out to see if the seeds you sowed last week have come up, or how the seedlings you set out are thriving? To look at that opening rosebud, pick off the withered leaves from the geranium, stir the earth a bit around that heliotrope, and linger over the dear little pansies as their bright faces are up-turned to greet you and cheer you with their diversified beauty? Gather a few; they will bloom all the more because of it. There, now, don't you feel nicely rested? The feeling of fretfulness is all gone. Refreshed in body and mind, you resume your housework, and accomplish it much more effectively than if you had kept right on, so tired and all out of sorts. Better far these moments of out-door recreation than blue pill or bitters. All this is anticipatory of the "good time coming" to you this summer. That kind husband of yours when he goes to the store to buy his garden seeds, or order them from abroad, is going to include an equal number of flower seeds. He would have done it long ago but he did not think anything about it. But you are going to give him a hint this spring. You can tell him that in the general seed box there is one corner where are certain dainty little packages labeled Candytuft—purple, carmine, white or mixed; Mignonnette, Aster, Balsam, Pink, Petunia, Sweet Peas, etc., etc., and you tell him that those Sweet Peas bloom the most fragrant blossoms for five months, while his "Extra Early," whether "Blue Peter" or "Blue Tom Thumb," last only a little while. So as he goes on his way he will think to himself, "Wife works hard; she makes capital butter and keeps the house real tidy, and I guess I must indulge her." When he returns home he gives you those little packages, in each tiny brown seed of which there lies hidden a beautiful life—a life that shall, by loving care, develop "the red, white and blue" in settings of emerald, the influence of which shall be felt by the entire household, and bring forth a fruitage of brightness, gladness and love.

It may be that you live remote from the village store, or perhaps there may not be kept there a good, reliable assortment of flower seeds, so I will tell you what to do in that case, for I wish to be helpful every step of the way. You must send to some good florist for what you want, enclosing stamps, if for an amount less than one dollar. You have your seeds now, and some of them need to be started in the house in order to secure early flowers, Asters, Petunias, Pinks, Pansies, Snapdragon and Sweet Peas. Sift your earth through a coarse sieve. A little sharp sand is good to mix with it. Shallow boxes are best, except for the peas. I use cigar boxes. Dampen the earth, then sow thickly in rows, cover lightly with more soil, dampen again, label, cover with paper so that the moisture may not evaporate rapidly, and place in a sunny window. Daily sprinkle through a fine rose pot, or with your fingers lightly if you have none. However good your seeds may be, they will not grow if kept dry, and will rot if kept too wet. The seedlings must be nursed with care, not too much sun while tender. I do not thin out mine till I transplant to the border, but many do, potting them singly. Peas can be set out earliest of any. Sunny days in May often tempt one to bed out their tender plants, and sow seed in open ground; then come cold nights, when the fragile seedlings need a hot soapstone to their feet. It is best to wait till warm weather is fully established, and then choose a cloudy day for the work. Protect from the sun's rays till the plants are established in their new quarters. Now, all this looks like much work and care, I know, but it is only a little work, a little care each day, and it is a work that will be a restful change, and bring you better health and better feelings, and when you gather the lovely flowers from the seeds you have sown and cultured, you will not say: "My time was all misspent."