flowers;
clary lasts but one summer; sweet-bryer or eglantine; celandine but
slowly; blood-wort but sorrily, but patience and English roses very
pleasantly."

Patience and English roses very pleasantly in truth must have shown
their fair English faces to English women in the strange land. Dearly
loved had these brier-roses or dog-roses been in England, where, says
the old herbalist, Gerard, "children with delight make chains and pretty
gewgawes of the fruit; and cookes and gentlewomen make tarts and
suchlike dishes for pleasure thereof." Hollyhocks, feverfew, and
gillyflowers must have made a sunshine in the shady places in the new
home. Many of these garden herbs are now common weeds or roadside
blossoms. Celandine, even a century ago, was "common by fences and among
rubbish." Tansy and elecampane grow everywhere. Sweet-brier is at home
in New England pastures and roadsides. Spearmint edges our brooks.
Ground-ivy is a naturalized citizen. It is easy to note that the
flowers and herbs beloved in gardens and medicinal waters and kitchens
"at home" were the ones transplanted here. "Clary-water" was a favorite
tonic of Englishmen of that day.

The list of "such plants as have sprung up since the English planted"
should be of interest to every one who has any sense of the sentiment of
association, or interest in laws of succession. The Spanish proverb
says:--

"More in the garden grows
Than the gardener sows."

The plantain has a history full of romance; its old Northern
names--_Wegetritt_ in German, _Weegbree_ in Dutch, _Viebred_ in Danish,
and _Weybred_ in Old English, all indicating its presence in the
much-trodden paths of man--were not lost in its new home, nor were its
characteristics overlooked by the nature-noting and plant-knowing red
man. It was called by the Indian "the Englishman's foot," says Josselyn,
and by Kalm also, a later traveller in 1740; "for they say where an
Englishman trod, there grew a plantain in each footstep." Not less
closely did such old garden weeds as motherwort, groundsel, chickweed,
and wild mustard cling to the white man. They are old colonists, brought
over by the first settlers, and still thrive and triumph in every
kitchen garden and back yard in the land. Mullein and nettle, henbane
and wormwood, all are English emigrants.

The Puritans were not the only flower-lovers in the new land. The
Pennsylvania Quakers and Mennonites were quick to plant gardens.
Pastorius encou