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 meadows, a dip into an old herbal, a few carefully-drawn cribs from Curtis's Botanical Magazine, or even—for lack of something better—Sutton's last Illustrated Catalogue, is wholesome exercise, and will do more to revive the original instincts of a true designer than a month of sixpenny days at a stuffy museum. The old masters are dead, but "the flowers," as Victor Hugo says, "the flowers last always."

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