A western lady, stopping in the office of the Gardeners' Monthly to subscribe for the magazine, relates a singular experience in being cheated by peddlers:

"A man with a bag full of small bulbs on his back made his appearance in their town one fine day. It was a very rare and beautiful bulb, never before seen in the country. His firm had the whole stock. The firm did not intend to introduce it generally till next year. This year they were simply advertising it. It was to be generally let out at $3 a root; but for the advertising purposes he, the 'agent of the firm,' was instructed to find out the greatest lover of flowers in each block, and to only that one person in the block should the roots be sold at $1 each. The ' firm' supposed that next year everybody in the block, seeing it in the neighbor's garden, would rush with the three dollars for this wonderful bulb. When it bloomed next season it was Gladiolus Brenchleyensis, worth five cents." "Of course," said we, " you were not caught by chaff like this?" "Of course I was then," was the candid reply, "and so were scores of others. He emptied his bag before leaving the town; not even confining his sales to one only lady in each block, as he pretended, as we finally found when we compared notes.

But I was better off than some, for he added one, giving me six for my five dollar bill".

We suppose if any one had known a Gladiolus root, and suggested the resemblance in the " rare bulb," the oily-tongued rascal would have admitted the fact, and made it blue, or sweet-scented or something.

Is it not queer that people will pass over their money to strangers in this way? The flattering compliment of being the "favored lady" evidently did the business here.