CHAPTER XIX.

ARRANGEMENT OF BOUQUETS AND VASES.

_Flowers in Churches._

It has been said that a person must possess the “knack”--must have a taste, an eye for colors--in order to arrange flowers in bouquets, baskets, etc., artistically. And, doubtless, there is a great deal of truth in the remark. One who does possess this “knack” can walk through a garden, gathering the flowers here and there, and arranging them with a perfect blending of color, which will result in a faultless bouquet; while another, with the same flowers, fails utterly to produce a charming effect. So, one sees that the art of flower arranging is too fine and delicate to be reduced to rules. Yet, there are a few which may be of use to flower lovers who are not gifted with a truly artistic eye. All flowers will not mix readily, but are only seen in perfection when arranged by themselves. Wild flowers will not mingle tastefully with their cultivated brethren, but must be arranged by themselves. A bouquet of Laurel is very beautiful; but mingle with it the coral and topaz bells of the Columbine and you spoil its effect. And Gentians, Azaleas, May-flowers, and last, but not least, the pearly white Water Lily, are seen to the best advantage when in clusters by themselves.

Lilies of the Valley require only a background of their own green leaves, to show forth most charmingly their perfect beauty. Balsams can only be arranged in flat dishes, with a mingling of Rose Geranium leaves to add the fragrance which they lack. Sweet Peas, so soft and liquid in tint, with their exquisite rose colors, purple and browns, and pearly whites, are ruined if mingled with dazzling Geraniums or Verbenas. Put them in a tall stemmed glass, and cover them with the feathery mist of the Oliver, or Gypsophila Muralis, then they will glow like a sun-set cloud at eve.

Royal Lilies must be placed in tall vases or glasses, and Roses blend perfectly with them, while Fuchsias will droop lovingly between them.

Give Pansies and Anemones a tiny vase by themselves, and see how glorious they are. When you have a large basket of flowers to arrange, make a harmonious blending. Put the celestial blues of the Larkspurs beside the brilliant scarlets of the Verbenas and Geraniums; then add the snowy whiteness of some Phlox or Candytuft, and judge for yourself of the effectiveness of the tri-color. Yellow is very useful in the vivid arrangement of bouquets and vases. Place it beside the ruby-red Fuchsias, near to the royal purple Verbenas, and see how it enhances the brightness of their hues. Among the white Roses, mingle pink Verbenas or Geraniums; and with royal purple add cream-colored Stocks or Roses; then fill in with the neutral tints of the Mignonette, Ageratum, Heliotrope, etc., etc.,--soft and sweet--and they will heighten the contrast of the more gorgeous hues, yet do not conflict with them. A Sofrano rose bud, a sprig of Mignonette, a Tuberose, and a bit of scarlet Verbena, mingled with Heliotrope and sweet Verbena, and some feathery green leaves, make as perfect a bouquet as one can desire to see.

If flowers could only pose themselves, it would be a great saving of trouble to many flower raisers--and doubtless the effect would be very charming; but this pleasure is denied to them, and our ignorant fingers put them hither and thither, often in most horrid contrasts and shadings.

Remember this one rule--never put blue and purple together; never let crimson and scarlet be in juxtaposition; nor bright pink and scarlet. Arrange your flowers in shadings of the same color, or in contrasts, with a plentiful mixture of white and neutral tints. In shading flat dishes of flowers, place the darkest in the center and shade out to white.

The present fashion among florists is to arrange bouquets, baskets, etc., so as to consume as many flowers as possible; and the crowding together of such quantities produces stiffness and formality--where lightness and gracefulness should be especially sought for.

The foliage belonging to each plant is, usually, the best adapted to its peculiar beauty. The Camellia, without its leaves, is a chilly, cold flower; but combined with its rich, glossy foliage, it produces a charming effect. The contrast of their perfectly curved lines and their harmonious substance, reveal the pure beauty of the flower.

Bouquets for the hand should not be composed of solid, heavy flowers, but of those of delicate structure, and of exquisite fragrance. Such bouquets naturally undergo close inspection, and they should consist of rare ferns and bright flowers, intermingled with those that are sweet as well as lovely. Always place the most gorgeous colors in the center of bouquet, vase or basket, and shade out into perfect whiteness, relieved by green foliage.

If you desire to arrange a central piece for a dinner or supper table, at its base place the feathery leaves of ferns, lycopods, etc., and twine around the vase light, graceful vines. In the center arrange scarlet flowers, mingled with blue and white, and edge the vase with the veined leaves of the Ornamental Foliage Plants. These plants are very useful in arranging floral devices; they provide the snowy whiteness and the rich wine-red colors of flowers.

Experience is the best teacher in directing us to arrange our flowers most advantageously. And we need to heed her teachings in every department of life.

A lovely dish of flowers can be made out of soup, oyster and preserve plates. Take the largest sized deep plate your pantry will give, fill it with scouring sand, thoroughly wet; edge it with the leaves of some tri-colored Geranium, or with the bright-hued Achyranthus, mingled with some white flowers--Feverfew, Candytuft, or Sweet Alyssum will do--cover the stems with another soup plate, not so large, so that the flowers and leaves will project beyond it; fill it as before directed, and edge it with some yellow flowers, Chlora, Oxura, Calceolaria--or any you can select. If the Geranium leaves were used before, mingle with these the wine-red leaves of the Variegated Plants. Proceed as before, and place on the edge of the dish bright blue Delphiniums, Blue Salvia, or the lovely Forget-Me-Not, mingled with sweet-scented Geranium leaves. In the center add a large cluster of scarlet Geraniums, Verbenas, etc., mingled with white flowers. A vase of Sweet Peas can crown the whole; and over it all, mingle the misty Oliver or Gypsophila Muralis, whose soft veil I deem indispensable. The effect is truly artistic! Purple flowers can be substituted for the blue, and you can make your own selection of colors and flowers. The fairy bells of the Fuchsias are very lovely among the silvery-edged leaves. Tropæolums mingle prettily with the darker leaves.

A dish of flowers thus arranged will be “a thing of joy” for two or three days. The sand can be wet every day with tepid water. It will make a beautiful ornament for a dinner or supper table. Flowers are always delightful when arranged in the dining room. The wise man of Queen Elizabeth’s court--the immortal Bacon--never sat at his table without flowers. In his “Essays,” Leigh Hunt says: “What ornament is there--what supply of light or beauty could we discover, at once so exquisite and so cheap, that should furnish our table with a grace precious in the eyes of the most intelligent?” Set flowers on your table, a whole nosegay if you can get it, or but two or three, or a single flower--a rose, a pink, even a daisy, ay, or a bunch of clover and a handful of flowering grasses, one of the most elegant as well as the cheapest of nature’s productions--and you will have something on your table that will remind you of the beauties of God’s creation, and give you a link with the poets and sages that have done it most honor. Put but a rose, or a lily, or a violet on your table, and you and Lord Bacon have a custom in common, for he was in the habit of having the flowers in season set upon his table, morning, noon and night. The fashions of the garments of heaven and earth endure forever, and you may adorn your table with specimens of their drapery--with flowers out of the fields and golden beams out of the blue ether.

The first new boughs in spring, plucked and put into a vase, have often an effect that may compete with flowers themselves, considering their novelty; and indeed, “leaves would be counted flowers if earth had none.” Does any reader fancy that to help himself to comforts like these, would be “trifling”? Oh, let him not so condescend to the ignorance of the proud or envious. If this were trifling, then was Bacon a trifler, also the great Condé, and the old republican Ludlow, and all the great and good spirits that have loved flowers, and Milton’s Adam, nay heaven itself, for heaven made these harmless elegancies, and blessed them with the universal good-will of the wise and innocent.

And surely there is nothing more interesting than the world of flowers. Earth, with seemingly careless prodigality, throws them out, masterpieces of infinite finish--all different, each perfect.

Nothing in life has afforded so much delight to so many hearts; and nothing has gladdened and brightened so many eyes!

_Cutting and Preserving Flowers._

Flowers should never be cut during the intense heat of the day, but either while wet with dew in the early morn, or after sunset, when the falling dew has revived them.

Do not break them off harshly, but cut them with a knife or scissors; the former is the best, as it cuts the cleanest, and does not lacerate the minute tubes which draw up the water that nourishes the flower; if these pores or tubes are closed up the flower soon withers. I find sand far cleaner to place them in than pure water; that soon becomes disagreeable, while the sand can be thoroughly wet every morn, and keep for weeks with no unpleasant odor about it. If flowers are desired to be kept a great while, the ends of the stalks should be cut off a little every time you change the water, and a pinch of saltpetre and salt tends to prevent their decay. Soap suds, which have been widely recommended, spoil the flowers very quickly. Warm water will revive wilted flowers; put the bouquet into water warm to the hand, let it remain for an hour or more, then cut off the stalks a little and put into fresh warm water, only lukewarm, and they will brighten wonderfully.

A few drops of liquid ammonia added to the water are said to revive faded flowers, but I have never tried the remedy.

If sand cannot be obtained, put a few bits of charcoal in the water, or fill the vase with them and water, and put the stalks between them; add fresh water every day, turning out the old, and your flowers will keep a week or more. Never turn ice water into the vases, it chills the life out of the flowers--is murder in the first degree. To be sure, the ice pitcher is always at hand, but keep its contents away from your vases. Rain water is always the best for watering plants, or for keeping fresh flowers, and it should be given a little warm, even if the tea-kettle has to be resorted to to render it so.

While gathering flowers, don’t pick such quantities that some will wither before they can be placed in water. If you have too many to care for directly, put them on a tray and sprinkle them with water, then they will not wither and become limp. Geranium leaves once withered never regain their fresh beauty, and Pansies once curled up will never unroll in perfect loveliness. Don’t be chary of picking your flowers--the more you gather the more you will have. Give them to all your friends--a bounteous giver is always rewarded. In selecting vases, don’t buy the gorgeous flowered china ware, or the brilliant Bohemian glass, but the pure, transparent glass that shows the twining stems of the flowers, and the ivory white Parian marble, around which the graceful vines will clasp so tenderly.

Silver and bronze are always beautiful, but a tasteful straw basket, holding a glass dish filled with flowers, will often produce as lovely an effect as the precious metals.

_Flowers in Churches._

In adorning the Communion Table or the Font with flowers, we should select those that are bright and gorgeous, as such colors were used by the artists of the middle ages, and from time immemorial there has been a symbolism, especially in religious ceremonies and decorations. Red is the symbol of Divine love; white, of Divine wisdom; yellow is a symbol of the revelation of the love and wisdom of God; blue, of Divine eternity and of human immortality.

Our Puritan forefathers, in fleeing from the persecutions and ceremonies of an established Church, cast from them all outward adornments; we, of these later days, desire to see our churches adorned with the “Green Things of the Earth,” and the practice of adorning our churches with vases and baskets of flowers is becoming quite universal. I hope it will spread, until every little village church can boast of its sweet floral adornments, from the earliest May flowers of the Spring to the crosses and crowns of “Christmas Greens.”

It is but little labor for several ladies in each congregation to agree to furnish the flowers. A large marble “tazza” can be purchased either out of the church funds, or through the benevolence of the rich of the parish. To fill these every Sunday morn with all that is lovely and sweet, cannot but be a work of love.

I recall a village church which I once attended, whose pulpit was made beautiful with large vases of Roses and Spireas, mingled with the trailing vines of the Money Wort. The old deacon brought them in, with an half-concealed air of pride, and placed them on each side of the pulpit cushion, upon which lay the Bible. His daughter arranged them from the flowers that were in season every week, and he delighted to carry her floral offering to the Lord, and lay it upon His altar.

“If there is any kind of adornment which more than another seems fitted to God’s house, it is that thoughtful use of the ‘Green Things of the Earth.’”

Flowers are the painted sculpturings of nature--the shapes and colors of beauty, which the Creator has lavished upon the world--and surely they can never be employed for a better purpose. In the church, flowers suggest thoughts that are in unison with the occasion, and the time and care thus bestowed on the adornment of the church are not without their reward.

Pious thoughts arise while skillful fingers are busy with the work which, as it is done for the sake of God’s honor, must, from its very nature, be linked with good to all concerned in it. “Whoso offereth me praise, glorifieth me.”

“Bring flowers to the shrine where we kneel in prayer, They are nature’s offering, their place is there! They speak of hope, to the fainting heart, With a voice of comfort they come and part; They sleep in dust through the wintry hours, They break forth in glory--bring flowers, bright flowers.”