One carriage is banked with marigolds, and the black horses are harnessed in yellow of the exact shade.

It is fitly occupied by black-eyed Spanish beauties, with raven hair done up high with gold combs, and black lace costumes with marigolds for trimming, and takes a well-deserved prize.
Roses, roses, roses, roses! How they fly and fall as the fleeting display is passing! Thirty thousand on one carriage.

Roses cover the street.

And yet the gardens don't seem stripped.

Where millions are blooming thousands are not missed.