The flowers sold in the metropolis always receive admiration from our visitors, and good judges say that the best are the equal of any in the world. In forced roses and lilies we are ahead of the world. Much inferior stuff is sold here for low prices, but those who want the best during the "season,"must expect to pay liberally. In spite of the complaints of high prices by some unthinking people, it is difficult to see how even those easiest grown could be sold more cheaply. For example, the common ox-eye daisy, which grows as a weed in meadows costs nothing to raise, and sells for ten cents a bunch in their season. We have been told this was too high for some people who like them, but those who advocate "flowers for the poor," must remember that even these cannot be "cut down as grass " and piled as hay. They must be culled and packed so as to arrive in market in good condition, or they will not sell at any price. This takes skill and understanding. Expenses of transportation must be paid. The time must be short or the flowers will wither.

When all these conditions are met, we do not believe the price can be bettered for buyers.

Most of the flowers sold here, and the trade is estimated some years to amount to nearly $5,000,-000, are florists' flowers. The favorite roses come first and range in prices from $1.50 for a single flower, to ten cents for a large bunch, according to the variety, the season, scarcity and demand. Carnations come next, and then violets. The latter are always in demand, and the supply is rarely equal to it. Everybody is fond of them, and the violet disease has made it difficult to raise them in many places. Orchids find many admirers, but are not within reach of the general public.

Garden and wild flowers are also in demand and have a steady sale in their season. Many of these are sent to market by farmers' wives and daughters, who add to their income by raising a few flowers for market, or gathering wild ones and then sending them by some local shipper. They come from everywhere about New York. The country is dotted with flower farms.

The city life of New Yorkers, and the decorative use of flowers and plants has tended to foster this trade. The daily retail sales of the fashionable florist amounts to hundreds of dollars, and on occasions of special festivity go well into the thousands. Most of the growers make a specialty of one class of things - roses, bulbs, orchids, potted plants, etc. The raising establishments are not especially attractive to visitors, being shorn of their bloom as soon as it is fit for market. The gay show in the seller's window often comes from as many different localities as there are varieties. While most of the world still slumbers, great wagons come rumbling across the ferries, full of nodding ferns and all manner of greenery.

The principal market for potted plants is in Spring street, and by daylight the big wagons are unloaded and the market ready for customers. The enterprising dealers come early to have a good choice, and soon the plants are on their way to stores and stalls. In springtime the street venders have filled their carts and the plants will soon be hawked through all the streets. A little later in the morning the market for cut-flowers near the east Thirty-fourth street ferry opens, located here it gets the main supply from the many growers on Long Island. The surroundings do not inspire poetical thoughts, although conductive to conviviality. Most of the business is transacted in a dingy saloon, where (hose present can refresh themselves with any of the usual drinks before or after sales. The large baskets of cut-flowers from the smaller and near-by growers are ranged about, while the shallow boxes, hinged in the middle and held by a strap around them, are piled one on top of another and filled with roses and the more delicate flowers. When the bulb and seed farms on Long Island are in their zenith of bloom, the piles of gladiolus, zinnias, calendulas, the sprigs of rose geranium, and lemon verbena are in great sheaves, pansies by the bushel, and dahlias in all colors from blood to snow.

The odor of heliotrope mingles with that of whiskey, cheese, violets, sausage, hyacinths and beer, until it becomes insupportable to one not accustomed to it. The flowers are exhibited, and the regular customers among the florists make their selections first. When they have taken all they want, the rest go to the street peddlers, who drive their trade on the street corners and around the elevated railroad stations.

The retail florists are influenced by the tastes of their customers, and many of them make a special drive with one kind of flowers and get up a reputation for them. Excepting for a few rare or scarce things, the flowers are sold by the dozen or hundred. Chrysanthemums, cornflowers, calendulas, etc., are tied up and sold by the bunch ; violets in bunches of 50 and 100, with a border of green leaves. Lil-i es and roses sell by the dozen, as do most flowers on a single stem.

Most of the wholesale stores are situated within a block or two of Broadway, between Twentieth and Thirtieth streets, and here go most of the finer flowers that are regularly sold to the trade. The dealers are commission men, and the flowers are handled on the same principle as are butter, fruit, eggs or any country produce. Large quantities of flowers go directly to the commission merchants, whose ware-rooms are supplied with large ice chests, where flowers are stored and where retail dealers and decorators come for them when they have a demand. It astonishes a novice to see the apparent roughness and carelessness with which many flowers are handled, but skilled workers can move them rapidly and with little injury. Some of the most delicate kinds, like camellias, are kept in boxes. Lilies have their anthers removed to prevent the pollen scatter-ing over their whiteness, and, with delicate orchids, easily discolored by a rough touch, are kept out of the general market as much as possible.

Although the bulk of the flower-trade is among our own people, visitors to the city, charmed by the unaccustomed floral beauty, are among the best purchasers. Other places are supplied from here, even to the base of the Rocky Mountains and to New Orleans. Although more is done in winter than at any other season, the fashionable summer resorts have drawn upon this city for supplies even as far away as Bar Harbor, and a strange taste has sometimes even preferred the conventional hot-house productions, although ever higher in summer than winter. Flowers in bloom have been successfully sent to England, arriving in splendid condition, and lilies are imported from Bermuda, but these features of the trade are not likely to be great commercial successes. New Yorkers are reproached for want of horticultural enthusiasm, yet they are the most liberal purchasers of flowers in the world.