By Henry A. Bright. From MacMillan & Co., New York, through J. B. Lippincott & Co., Phila., Pa. - Over and over again, many of us have repeated that a garden is the purest of all human pleasures, but it becomes in time to have about as much meaning as an oft-repeated prayer. We talk of gardens, and grow our flowers and fruits and vegetables; but the real pure pleasure which a true love of gardening can give is the good fortune of but few to enjoy.

It is our mission to heighten gardening enjoyment; and it is because such works as these fall in with our own work, that we welcome them. The author knows what a garden is for, and as he tells us what was done during the year in the garden; what bloomed and what ripened, and what was expected, and what was accomplished; he throws around his story a charm which the reader soon learns to enjoy with him. Whoever may have a garden no matter how small, will love it the more after reading this book, and new pleasures will be given to the familiar walk, and the most old-fashioned flower will have a new interest to the one who follows Mr. Bright through his little book.

He is speaking about a May scene in his English garden, and he thus refers to one of our familiar flowers:

"In the middle of each group of beds, which the grass walk divides, is a circular bed full of American shrubs. Among these shrubs are several rather fine Palmias. Very often they do not flower at all, or at best bear only a blossom here and there. This year they are laden with blossoms which are now ready to burst, and I shall have a show of Palmia flowers such as I have not seen since two-and-twenty years ago. I wandered among the Palmia brakes in the forests of Virginia; and the flower is so beautiful; pink outside, and, as Ruskin says, 'inside is like the beating out of vases in hollow silver,' beaten out apparently in each petal by the stamens instead of a hammer!"