r, aunt, some dear one who has not shared the walk. These
flowers should not be neglected, but at once put in water, placed where
they can be seen and enjoyed, and the water should be changed every day
as long as they last. In this way the flower gives real pleasure to a
number of people, and the child learns several lessons valuable to the
formation of his character.

As the child grows older, he can be taught not only self-control
against gathering useless quantities of flowers, but also to exercise
judgment in regard to those he does pick. For instance, seeing a flaming
bush against a superb background of green foliage, shall he disturb the
poise of the picture for the sake of taking some of the flowers? Better
is it to look about for similar flowers less beautifully placed. Instead
of culling from the little hepatica company at the tree root, let him
search for more hidden or less beautifully grouped flowers. The isolated
flowers will be just as pretty after they are picked as are those in the
fortunately placed groups; for he will soon learn that with the flower
he cannot take its surroundings excepting in the memory. In this way he
will be able to carry away a beautiful mind-picture such as would not
remain if he had destroyed it; he will become more observant of the
flowers as pictures, cultivate his taste, in short, and also learn to
enjoy beauty without destroying it.

Wanton destruction of flowers should never be countenanced, no matter
how abundant the flowers may be. Self-restraint is not inculcated for
the sake of saving the flowers so much as for the influence it will have
upon the development of the child, although there are parts of the
country where one would like to see it exercised for the sake of the
flowers themselves. The child who learns to respect flowers will never
be one of that discreditable company who by sheer vandalism are
constantly driving the wild flowers farther into the back country,
finally exterminating whole species. In many parts of New England, banks
which were carpeted with arbutus a generation ago are now devoid of a
single root. Spring may come and Spring may go, but no may-flowers will
ever again shine from those banks to delight the eye of the woodland
wanderer. All the generations to come must be deprived of the pleasure
of these delightful flowers, the earliest visitants of spring--to what
end? Did the pleasure they gave to those who took them compensate in the
least degre