A SHOWER OF ROSES.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXIV, Issue 5825, 29 November 1879, Page 3

A SHOWER OF ROSES.

The San Francisco correspondent o£ the New Zealand Herald writes :

It does not fall to the lot of every one, or even a partial few of the dwellers in this sublunary sphere, to walk on roses, and be smothered in perfumed bloom for three entire weeks of everyday life but the exception does come once in a long while, and General Ulysses Grant, that silent and most undemonstrative of all ex-Presidents, is at present that one. Perhaps the most charming ovation he has received while among us, was at the hand of the school children, who assembled 30,000 strong to look at him,, and be smiled upon by the great soldier. The entire; family of scholars, from the public schools, big and little, interviewed the General at Woodward’s Gardens about a fortnight ago. The roads were lined, the street cars were filled, and the beautiful gardens packed with this 30,000 crowd, and truly it was a splendid sight. White dresses gleamed out like snowflakes among the more ambitious garments of pink, blue, and scarlet silk, while again the poorer little ones were yet tastefully clad in fresh clean prints, enlivened by flakes of color ; perhaps a bow at the throat, or a sash of colored cambric. Every child carried a bouquet—think of it—and, after passing before the silent object of their adoration, they ranged themselves in a

long line and threw down their floral emblem beneath his feet. After smiling quietly, and at the end wearily, at the bonnie faces upturned to his, the hero of the day addressed the delighted crowd and proceeded to leave the gardens, when suddenly a shower of bouquets was levelled at his devoted head by thousands of hands. Poor General Grant ! What availed it that his new shining stove-pipe was dashed off his head by flowers —that roses hit him in the eyes, on the nose, on the mouth ? What availed it that he was under assault by only a laughing, happy mob, whose missiles, all the same, were thorny, though perfumed ? He was hit, and badly hit, but he bore it like a hero as he is, standing knee-deep in bloom. Still it was terrible ; and then a few frantic and patriotic young women, as he was passing along, broke .insanely through the cordon of police guards, and snatched his hands, pressing them arduously to their lips, and exclaiming that they were now willing to die, having seen Grant,: having touched his illustrious hand. I scarcely tbiuk any of the receptions offered to the soldier could have been so acceptable as this ovation at the hands of the children of the city—a spontaneous and disinterested outburst from thousands of guileless hearts.