JANUARY 1ST.

THE DAISY. (Bellis perénnis.)

WE can only cull some four or five wild flowers as our January garland; the greatest favourite of all is

"That constellated flower that never sets,"

the daisy; pre-eminently the poets' flower, from quaint old Chaucer, who designates the daisy

"Of all flouris the floure,

Fulfilled of all vertue and honoure,
And ever ilike faire and fresh of hewe;
As well in winter as in summer newe,'

From the Father of Poetry down to our latest poet, all have a word of grace for the lowly flower. It is a divine gift to the poet to see beauty in all the manifestations of the Creator's power, from the stars of earth to the glittering hosts above; yet, with many wanting this precious gift, the claim to beauty is denied to everything "common," and the golden centre of the daisy, with its white chaplet of petals tipped with light pink, is trodden under foot as of no account.

Rosseau says, although the flower is so small and delicate, it is in reality composed of hundreds of flowers, for every one of the petals, white above and red beneath, forming a kind of crown around the flower, in reality is a true flower, as perfect as the hyacinth or lily, as are also all those tiny points in the centre.

The flower was anciently held in the highest esteem as an emblem of fidelity, and was often worn by gallant knights at tournaments

"When in his scarf the knight the daisy bound,

And dames at tourney shone with daisies crowned."

It may be well accounted an emblem of fidelity, as it may be found in bloom every month of the year—

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The rose has but a summer reign,

The daisy never dies.-MONTGOMERY.

Abu Nawas exalts it thus ::- "Behold the gardens of the earth, and consider the emblem of those things which Divine Power hath formed-eyes of silver (daisies) everywhere disclosed, with pupils like molten gold, united to an emerald stalk-these avouch that no one is equal to God."

JANUARY 2ND.

THE ROBIN, OR REDBREAST.—(Sylvia rubecula.)

OF all our British birds the most known and the best loved is the Redbreast. Often taking up its winter residence within our houses, and not unfrequently appearing at our breakfast tables,

"Half afraid he first

Against the window beats; then brisk alights

On the warm hearth; then hopping o'er the floor,
Eyes all the smiling family askance,

And pecks and starts and wonders where he is."

THOMSON.

It is a sprightly bird, with sparkling black eyes that look you full in the face with the utmost confidence. Its plumage now is at its greatest brilliance, for during the summer months the bright scarlet becomes a dull red. A foolish superstition exists in some of the isolated villages of Ireland, by which the bird has been invested with a sacred character. The myth is that the Robin, at the Crucifixion, hovering near the Cross, a drop of blood fell upon its breast, which has been allowed to remain as a token of the bird's fidelity; or as the "Legends of the Church" run:-" -"When He drooped His head, the bird flew down from Heaven, and plucked at the Crown of Thorns, that it might in some wise wrest one of the thirty-and-three from His brow. But it tore its own plumage till its breast was covered with blood. Wherefore it is called the Robin Redbreast to this day, and little children love the bird that