uli I L^O^ 
 
 
THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 ENDOWED BY THE 
 
 DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC 
 
 SOCIETIES 
 
 BOTANY LIBRARY 
 
 ^ 
 
 N 
 
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 00022228242 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 From the library 
 
 of 
 
 Henry Roland Totten 
 
 presented by the 
 
 Botanical Garden Foundation 
 
 1974 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://archive.org/details/plantstheirchildpars 
 
PLANTS *whem5 
 
 AND THEIR CHILDREN 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. WILLIAM STARR DANA 
 
 AUTHOR OF " HOW TO KNOW THE WILD FLOWERS 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 ALICE JOSEPHINE SMITH 
 
 IP 
 
 NEW YORK • : • CINCINNATI • : • CHICAGO 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
 
Copyright, 1896, by 
 AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY. 
 
 DANA S PLANTS. 
 
 W. P. 2 
 
m 
 
 lima 
 
 
 
 
 «y 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 A 
 
 CHILD'S reading book, it seems to me, 
 should secure for the child three things, 
 — practice in the art of reading, amusement, 
 and instruction. Whether my little book is 
 fitted to attain this threefold object, others 
 must decide ; but in laying it before the public, 
 let me urge careful attention to a few sugges- 
 tions. 
 
 i. As the book is arranged so as to begin 
 with the opening of the school year and to follow it to its close, 
 the interest of pupils will be increased by reading the different 
 chapters during the seasons to which they refer. 
 
 2. The teacher should exercise judgment as to the omission of 
 any chapter or group of chapters which may seem beyond- the 
 comprehension of the class. With a little care, such an omission 
 may nearly always be made without injury to the usefulness of the 
 rest of the book. 
 
 3. Specimens of the objects described, when these can be found 
 in the locality, should always be on exhibition in the schoolroom. 
 Whenever possible, the children themselves should collect and 
 handle these specimens. If for any reason this collection by the 
 children cannot be accomplished, the teacher should not fail to 
 anticipate the readings, and to provide the objects mentioned. 
 
 By the observance of these simple and practicable suggestions, it 
 is believed that, while the children are being trained in the art of 
 reading, their powers of observation and of reasoning will be devel- 
 
 3 
 
oped, and that they will be inspired with a lifelong interest in 
 nature. The child's mind is peculiarly alive to the charm of nature 
 when she is studied in detail, and through her it can be trained to 
 observe accurately and to reason logically. 
 
 Through the neglect of nature study, the wits of the country child 
 lose just the sharpening they most need, to say nothing of a stim- 
 ulus and delight which can ill be spared by one whose mental life is 
 apt to be monotonous. 
 
 The wits of the city child may secure in other ways the sharpening 
 so essential to success in life ; yet the training afforded by a logical 
 study of plants, and the pleasure which such a study, rightly 
 directed, is sure to yield, are as invaluable to him as to his country 
 cousin. 
 
 Experience having proved to my keenest satisfaction that almost 
 invariably children can be interested in stories of plants and their 
 children, to the children of the land I offer this little book, in the 
 earnest hope that its pages may lead at least some few of them tc 
 find in life a new joy and a deeper meaning. 
 
 The aid derived from many sources in the preparation of " Plants 
 and their Children " is heartily acknowledged ; but more especially 
 I wish to extend my thanks to Messrs. Holt & Co. for their courtesy 
 in allowing the reproduction of several cuts from their valuable and 
 interesting publication, "The Natural History of Plants," translated 
 from the German of Kerner von Marilaun. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PART I. — FRUITS 
 
 > AND SEEDS 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 In the Orchard .... 
 
 9 
 
 The Story of the Bee 
 
 
 
 
 . 16 
 
 The Apple's Treasures 
 
 
 
 
 • 19 
 
 What a Plant lives for 
 
 
 
 
 21 
 
 The World without Plants 
 
 
 
 
 • 24 
 
 How the Apple shields its Young 
 
 
 
 
 • 27 
 
 Some Cousins of the Apple 
 
 
 
 
 • 3i 
 
 Uneatable Fruits 
 
 
 
 
 • 34 
 
 More Cousins of the Apple . 
 
 
 
 
 36 
 
 Still more Cousins 
 
 
 
 
 • 39 
 
 In the Woods .... 
 
 
 
 
 4i 
 
 Why Seeds travel 
 
 
 
 
 50 
 
 Some Little Tramps . 
 
 
 
 
 5 2 
 
 Seed Sailboats .... 
 
 
 
 
 56 
 
 Winged Seeds .... 
 
 
 
 
 61 
 
 Shooting Seeds 
 
 
 
 
 63 
 
 The Chestnut and Other Seeds 
 
 
 
 
 67 
 
 Some Strange Stories 
 
 
 
 
 69 
 
 PART II. — you: 
 
 ^G PLANTS 
 
 
 
 
 How the Baby Plant lives 
 
 A Schoolroom Garden 
 
 A Schoolroom Garden {Concluded) 
 
 5 
 
 75 
 79 
 35 
 
Seeds as Food 
 
 An Impatient Plant Baby 
 
 A Humpbacked Plant Baby 
 
 9i 
 94 
 
 PART III 
 
 ROOTS AND STEMS 
 
 Root Hairs .... 
 Roots and Underground Stems 
 Above-ground Roots 
 What Few Children know 
 Plants that cannot stand alone 
 Some Habits of Stems . 
 Stems and Seed Leaves . 
 •• Well done, Little Stem " 
 
 99 
 102 
 106 
 112 
 114 
 117 
 119 
 122 
 
 PART IV. — BUDS 
 
 Buds in Winter . .125 
 
 A Happy Surprise 127 
 
 Some Astonishing Buds . 129 
 
 PART V. — LEAVES 
 
 How to look at a Leaf .... 
 
 The most Wonderful Thing in the World 
 
 How a Plant is built 
 
 How a Plant's Food is cooked 
 
 A Steep Climb 
 
 How a Plant perspires . 
 
 How a Plant stores its Food . 
 
 Leaf Green and Sunbeam 
 
 Plant or Animal ? . 
 
 How we are helped by Leaf Green and Sunbeam 
 
 How a Plant breathes . . . 
 
 135 
 
 138 
 142 
 
 143 
 147 
 148 
 149 
 151 
 154 
 156 
 158 
 
80TAJSTY LIBRART 
 
 The Diligent Tree 
 Leaves and Roots 
 Leaf Veins 
 Leaf Shapes . 
 Hairy Leaves . 
 Woolly and " Dusty 
 Prickles and Poison 
 Some Cruel Traps . 
 More Cruel Traps . 
 The Fall of the Leaf 
 
 Leaves 
 
 PART VI. — FLOWERS 
 
 The Building Plan of the Cherry Bl 
 
 Lilies 
 
 About Stamens 
 
 Flower Dust, or Pollen 
 
 About Pistils . 
 
 The First Arrival . 
 
 Pussy Willows 
 
 Alders and Birches 
 
 The Great Trees 
 
 The Unseen Visitor 
 
 Plant Packages 
 
 Underground Storehouses 
 
 Different Building Plans 
 
 A Celebrated Family 
 
 Clever Customs 
 
 Flowers that turn Night into Day 
 
 Horrid Habits 
 
 The Story of the Strawberry 
 
 A Cousin of the Strawberry 
 
 Another Cousin 
 
Pea Blossoms and Peas . 
 
 The Clover's Trick 
 
 More Tricks ..... 
 
 An Old Friend .... 
 
 The Largest Plant Family in the World 
 
 Robin's Plantain, Golden-rod, and Aster 
 
 The Last of the Flowers 
 
 PAGE 
 
 240 
 
 243 
 244 
 
 247 
 248 
 251 
 254 
 
 PART VII. — LEARNING TO SEE 
 
 A Bad Habit . 
 A Country Road 
 A Holiday Lesson 
 
 257 
 261 
 264 
 
PLANTS AND THEIR CHILDREN 
 
 3>SKC 
 
 Part I — Fruits and Seeds 
 
 ;/</%, 
 
 IN THE ORCHARD 
 
 [S there a nicer place in 
 which to play than an 
 old apple orchard ? Once under those favorite trees 
 whose branches sweep the ground, you are quite shut 
 off from the great, troublesome, outside world. And 
 how happy and safe you feel in that green world of 
 your own ! — a world just made for children, a world 
 of grass and leaves and birds and flowers, where lessons 
 and grown-up people alike have no part. 
 
 In the lightly swinging branches you find prancing 
 horses, and on many a mad ride they carry you. The 
 
 9 
 
IO 
 
 larger ones are steep paths leading up mountain sides. 
 Great chasms yawn beneath you. Here only the dar- 
 ing, the cool-headed, may hope to be successful and 
 reach the highest points without danger to their bones. 
 
 Out here the girls bring their dolls, and play house. 
 Nothing can make a more interesting or a more surpris- 
 ing house than an apple tree, its rooms are so many and 
 of such curious shapes. Then, too, the seats in these 
 rooms are far more comfortable than the chairs used 
 by ordinary people in everyday houses. The doings of 
 the Robin family are overlooked by its windows. One 
 is amazed to see how many fat worms Mother Robin 
 manages to pop down the yawning baby throats, and 
 wonders how baby robins ever live to grow up. 
 
 From these windows you watch the first flying lesson ; 
 and you laugh to see the little cowards cling to the 
 branch close by, paying little heed to their parents' 
 noisy indignation. All the same, you wish that you 
 too might suddenly grow a pair of wings, and join the 
 little class, and learn to do the one thing that seems 
 even more delightful than tree climbing. 
 
 That you children long to be out of the schoolroom 
 this minute, out in the orchard so full of possibilities, I 
 do not wonder a bit. But as the big people have 
 decided that from now on for some months you must 
 spend much of your time with lesson books, I have a 
 plan to propose. 
 
 What do you say to trying to bring something of the 
 outdoor places that we love into the schoolroom, which 
 we do not love as much as we should if lessons were 
 always taught in the right way ? 
 
II 
 
 Now let us pretend — and even grown-up people, who 
 can do difficult sums, and answer questions in history 
 and geography better than children, cannot "pretend" 
 one half so well — now let us pretend that we are about 
 to spend the morning in the orchard. 
 
 Here we go, out of the schoolroom into the air and 
 sunshine, along the road, up the hill, till we reach the 
 stone wall beyond which lies our orchard. 
 
 Ah ! it is good to get into the cool of the dear, friendly 
 trees. And just now, more than ever, they seem friend- 
 ly to you boys and girls ; for they are heavy with apples, 
 — beautiful red and golden apples, that tempt you to 
 clamber up into the green sea of leaves above. 
 
 Now let us " pretend " that you have had your fill, 
 and are ready to gather quietly about me 
 on the long grass. But first, please, one 
 of you bring me an apple. Let it be well- 
 grown and rounded, with a rosy, sun- 
 burned cheek ; for, as we are to spend 
 some little time with this apple, the more 
 perfect it is in shape, the richer in color, 
 the sounder all the way through, the better. 
 It is good to be as much as possible with 
 things that are beautiful and wholesome and hearty, 
 even though they are only apples. 
 
 Here we have (Fig. i) a fine specimen. What do 
 you know, any of you, about this apple ? Perhaps this 
 seems a strange question. But when we see something 
 that is fine and beautiful, is it strange that we wish to 
 know its history ? If I see a man or a woman who 
 seems to me all that a man or woman should be ; if he 
 
12 
 
 or she is fine-looking and fine-acting, straight and strong, 
 and beautiful and kind, and brave and generous, — I 
 ask, " Who is he ? Where does she come from ? What 
 have they done ? " 
 
 Of course, a fine apple is not so interesting as a fine 
 man or woman, or as a fine boy or girl. Still there is 
 much of interest to learn even about an apple. 
 
 None of you seems anxious to tell the apple's story, 
 so I shall have to start you with some questions. 
 
 Do you remember playing in this same orchard last 
 spring ? 
 
 Yes, you have not forgotten those Saturdays in May. 
 The trees were all pink and white with apple blossoms. 
 The air was sweet with fragrance, and full of the voices 
 of birds, and of bees that were bustling about from 
 flower to flower. No, indeed ! you have not forgotten 
 those happy mornings. What is more, you never will. 
 They are among the things that will stay by you, and 
 be a rest and help to you all your lives. I wish there 
 were no child living that might not carry with him 
 always the memory of May days in an apple orchard. 
 
 How has it come about, do you suppose, that these 
 trees which in May were covered with flowers are now 
 heavy with apples ? 
 
 Can any of you children answer this riddle ? How 
 have these great apples managed to take the place of 
 the delicate apple blossoms ? 
 
 There are some children who keep their eyes open, 
 and really see what is going on about them, instead of 
 acting as if they were quite blind ; and perhaps some 
 such child will say, " Oh, yes! I know how it happened. 
 
13 
 
 I have seen it all," and will be able to tell the whole 
 story at once. 
 
 I should like very much to meet that boy or girl, 
 and I should like to take a country walk with him or 
 her ; for there are so few children, or grown people 
 either, who use both their eyes to see with, and the 
 brain which lies back of their eyes to think and question 
 with, that it is a rare treat to meet and to go about with 
 one of them. 
 
 But I should be almost as much pleased to meet the 
 child who says, ''Well, I know that first the blossoms 
 come. Early in May they make the orchard so nice 
 to play in. But in a few days they begin to fall. 
 Their little white leaves come dropping down like 
 snowflakes ; and soon after, if you climb out along 
 the branches and look close, where there was a 
 blossom before, you find now a little green thing 
 something like a knob (Fig. 2). This tiny knob 
 keeps growing bigger and bigger, and then you see 
 that it is a baby apple. As the weeks go by, the little 
 apple grows into a big one ; and at last the green begins 
 to fade away, and the red and yellow to come. One day 
 you find the great grown apple all ripe, and ready to 
 eat. But I never could see just what made it come like 
 that, such a big, heavy apple from such a little flower, 
 and I always wondered about it." 
 
 Now, if we wonder about the things we see, we are 
 on the right road. The child who first "sees" what is 
 happening around him, and then "wonders" and asks 
 questions, is sure to be good company to other people 
 and to himself. (And as one spends more time with 
 
14 
 
 himself than with any one else, he is lucky if he finds 
 himself a pleasant companion.) Such a child has not 
 lost the use of his eyes, as so many of us seem to have 
 done. And when the little brain is full of questions, it 
 bids fair to become a big brain, which may answer some 
 day the questions the world is asking. 
 
 Before I tell you just how the big apple managed to 
 take the place of the pretty, delicate flower, let us take 
 a good look at this flower. 
 
 But in September apple flowers are not to be had 
 for the asking. Not one is to be found on all these 
 trees. So just now we must use the 
 picture instead. And when May comes, 
 your teacher will bring you a branch 
 bearing the beautiful blossoms ; or, bet- 
 ter still, perhaps she will take you out 
 into the orchard itself, and you can go 
 over this chapter again with the lovely 
 J living flowers before you. 
 
 Now, as you look at this picture of the apple flower 
 (Fig. 3), you see a circle made up of five pretty leaves. 
 Sometimes these are white ; again they are pink. And 
 in the center what do you see? Why, there you see a 
 quantity of odd-looking little things whose names you 
 do not know. They look somewhat like small, rather 
 crooked pins; for on the tips of most of them are 
 objects which remind you of the head of a pin. 
 
 If you were looking at a real flower, you would see 
 that these pin heads were little boxes filled with a 
 yellow dust which comes off upon one's fingers; and 
 so for the present we will call them "dust boxes." 
 
is 
 
 But besides these pins — later we shall learn their 
 real names — besides these pins with dust boxes, we 
 find some others which are without any such boxes. 
 The shape of these reminds us a little of the pegs or 
 pins we use in the game of tenpins. If we looked at 
 them very closely, we should see that there were five 
 of them, but that these five were joined below 
 into one piece. 
 
 Now suppose we take the apple blossom 
 and pull off all its pretty white flower leaves, 
 and all the pins with dust boxes, what will be 
 left? 
 
 This picture (Fig. 4) shows you just what 
 is left. You see what looks like a little cup 
 or vase. The upper part of this is cut into '. 4 
 
 five pieces, which are rolled back. In the picture one 
 of these pieces is almost out of sight. In the real 
 blossom these pieces look like little green leaves. And 
 set into this cup is the lower, united part of those pins 
 which have no dust boxes on top. 
 
 I fancy that you are better acquainted with the apple 
 blossom than ever before, never mind how many morn- 
 ings you may have spent in the sweet-smelling, pink 
 and white orchard. You know just what goes to make 
 up each separate flower, for all the many hundreds of 
 blossoms are made on the one plan. 
 
 And only now are you ready to hear what happened 
 to make the apple take the place of the blossom. 
 
THE STORY OF THE BEE |» 
 
 THIS is what happened. And it is a 
 true story. 
 
 One morning last May a bee set out among the 
 flowers on a honey hunt. 
 
 Perhaps it would be more true to say that the bee 
 set out to hunt for the sweet stuff of which honey is 
 made ; for while this sweet stuff is still in the flower 
 cup it is not honey, any more than the wheat growing 
 in the field is bread. The wheat becomes bread later, 
 after it has been cut and gathered and threshed and 
 ground, and brought into the kitchen and there changed 
 into bread ; and the sweet stuff becomes honey only 
 after the bees have carried it home and worked it. 
 
 As the bee left home this particular morning, it made 
 up its mind that it would devote itself to the apple 
 blossoms ; for did you know that when a bee goes 
 flower visiting, usually it gives all its attention to one 
 kind of flower till it has finished that special round 
 of visits ? 
 
 16 
 
17 
 
 So off the bee flew ; and in a few moments it saw 
 hundreds of little pink and white handkerchiefs waving 
 at it from the apple orchard. 
 
 What do you suppose these were, these gay little 
 handkerchiefs ? They were the flower leaves of the 
 apple blossoms. I call them handkerchiefs, because, 
 just as boys and girls sometimes wave their handker- 
 chiefs when they wish to signal other boys and girls, 
 so the apple tree uses its gay flower leaves to attract 
 the attention of the bee, and persuade it to visit the 
 flowers. Of course, really, they are not handkerchiefs 
 at all. They would hardly be large enough for any but 
 fairy noses, would they ? 
 
 When the bee saw so many bright handkerchiefs 
 waving it welcome, along it hurried ; for it knew this 
 was a signal that material for honey making was at 
 hand. Another minute, and it had settled upon a 
 freshly opened flower, and was eagerly stealing the 
 precious sweet. 
 
 You children know, that, when you are given per- 
 mission to go to the closet for a piece of candy or cake, 
 you are not apt to set about it very gently. You are in 
 too much of a hurry for that. Often you come very 
 near knocking everything over, in your haste to get 
 hold of what you want. 
 
 And bees are quite as greedy as any boy or girl could 
 be. So our friend dived right into the pretty flower, 
 brushing rudely against the little dust boxes. These, 
 being full to overflowing with golden dust, spilled their 
 contents, and powdered the bee quite yellow. 
 
 Having made sure that nothing more was to be found 
 
 DANA'S PLANTS. 2 
 
18 
 
 just there, off flew the dusty bee to the next blossom. 
 Into this it pushed its way, and in so doing struck 
 those pins which have no dust boxes ; and upon their 
 broad, flat tips fell some of the yellow dust grains with 
 which its body was powdered. 
 
 Now there began to happen a strange thing. 
 
 But before I tell you more, I must stop one moment 
 to remind you that these pins without dust boxes are 
 joined below into one piece, and that this piece is set 
 deep into the green cup which holds the rest of the 
 flower (see Fig. 4) ; and I must tell you, that, if you 
 should cut open this cup, you would find a number of 
 little round objects looking like tiny green eggs. 
 
 The strange thing that began to happen was this : — 
 
 Soon after the yellow dust from the bee fell upon 
 the flat tips of the pins without dust boxes, the little 
 green objects deep within the green cup became full 
 of life, and began to get larger. And not only this : 
 the green cup also seemed to feel this new life ; for it 
 too grew bigger and bigger, and juicier and juicier, 
 until it became the fine juicy apple we have before us 
 this morning. 
 
 So now you understand a little of what happened to 
 make the great apple take the place of the delicate 
 blossom. 
 
19 
 
 THE APPLE'S TREASURES 
 
 Fig. 5 
 
 IF we lift our apple by its stem, it hangs in the same 
 position as when growing on the tree (Fig. 5). 
 But the blossom whose place in the world is 
 taken by this apple held its little head 
 proudly in the air. So let us put the apple 
 in the same position, and see what is left 
 of the flower from which it has come 
 (Fig. 6). 
 
 We see the apple stem, which last May 
 was the flower stem. This has grown 
 
 thick and strong enough to hold the apple 
 fast to the tree till it ripens and is ready 
 to drop. 
 
 The upper part of the stem you cannot 
 see, because the apple has swelled down- 
 wards all about it, or upwards we should 
 say, if it were still on the tree. 
 
 On the top of the apple, in a little 
 hollow, we see some crumpled things 
 which look like tiny withered leaves. 
 
 You remember that when the bee left the yellow 
 dust in the apple blossom, the green cup began to 
 grow big and juicy, and to turn into the apple. And 
 these little crumpled things are all that is left of the 
 five green leaves into which the upper part of the cup 
 was divided. These little leaves have been out in all 
 kinds of weather for many weeks, so no wonder they 
 look rather mussy and forlorn. 
 
 Fig. 6 
 
20 
 
 Fig. 7 
 
 It is hard to realize that from the center of this 
 now crumpled bunch grew the pretty apple blossom. 
 Now where are those tiny round things 
 that were packed away inside the green 
 cup ? 
 
 Well, as that cup is now this apple, the 
 chances are that they are still hidden safely 
 away within it. So let us take a knife and 
 cut the apple open. 
 What do you find in its very heart ? If you cut it 
 through crosswise, you find five brown seeds packed as 
 neatly as jewels in their case (Fig. 7); and 
 if you cut it through lengthwise, you dis- 
 cover only two or three seeds (Fig. 8). 
 
 Probably I need not say to you that 
 these seeds were once the little round 
 things hidden within the green cup. 
 
 Some day I will tell you a great deal 
 more about the wonderful golden dust 
 which turns flowers into apples as easily 
 as Cinderella's fairy godmother turned rats into ponies, 
 and pumpkins into coaches. 
 
 But all this will come later. Just now I want to talk 
 about something else. 
 
 Fig. 8 
 
WHAT A PLANT LIVES 
 FOR 
 
 WHEN you go for a walk in the 
 country, what do you see all about 
 you ? 
 
 " Cows and horses, and chickens and 
 birds, and trees and flowers," 
 answers some child. 
 
 Yes, all of these things you 
 
 see. But of the trees and plants 
 
 you see even more than of the 
 
 horses and cows and birds. On 
 
 every side are plants of one kind 
 
 or another. The fields are full of 
 
 grass plants. The woods are full of tree 
 
 plants. Along the roadside are plants of 
 
 many varieties. 
 
 Now, what are all these plants trying 
 to do? "To grow," comes the answer. 
 
 21 
 
22 
 
 Fig. 9 
 
 To grow big and strong enough to hold their own in 
 the world. That is just what they are trying to do. 
 Then, too, they are trying to flower. 
 " But they don't all have flowers," objects one voice. 
 You are right. They do not all have flowers ; but 
 you would be surprised to know how many of them 
 do. In fact, all of them except the ferns and mosses, 
 and a few others, some of which you would hardly 
 recognize as plants, — all of them, with these excep- 
 tions, flower at some time in their lives. 
 
 All the trees have flowers, and all the grasses (Figs. 
 9, io); and all those plants which get so dusty along 
 the roadside, and which you call " weeds," — each 
 one of these has its own flower. This may be so 
 small and dull-looking that you have never noticed 
 it ; and unless you look sharply, perhaps you 
 never will. But all the same, it is a flower. 
 
 But there is one especial thing which is really 
 the object of the plant's life. Now, who can tell 
 me this : what is this object of a plant's life ? 
 
 Do you know just what I mean by this ques- 
 tion ? I doubt it ; but I will try to make it clear 
 to you. 
 
 If I see a boy stop his play, get his hat, and start 
 down the street, I know that he has what we call " an 
 object in view." There is some reason for what he is 
 doing. And if I say to him, " What is the object of your 
 walk?" I mean, "For what are you going down the 
 street?" And if he answers, "I am going to get a 
 pound of tea for my mother," I know that a pound of 
 tea is the object of his walk. 
 
23 
 
 So when I ask what is the object of a plant's life, I 
 mean why does a plant send out roots in search of food, 
 and a stem to carry this food upward, and 
 leaves to drink in air and sunshine ? What 
 is the object of all this ? 
 
 A great many people seem to think that 
 the object of all plants with pretty flowers 
 must be to give pleasure. But these people 
 quite forget that hundreds and thousands of 
 flowers live and die far away in the lonely 
 forest, where no human eye ever sees them ; 
 that they so lived and died hundreds and 
 thousands of years before there were any 
 men and women, and boys and girls, upon 
 the earth. And so, if they stopped long 
 enough quietly to think about it, they would 
 see for themselves that plants must have 
 some other object in life than to give people pleasure. 
 
 But now let us go back to the tree from which we 
 took this apple, and see if we can find out its special 
 object. 
 
 "Why, apples ! " some of you exclaim. " Surely the 
 object of an apple tree is to bear apples." 
 
 That is it exactly. An apple tree lives to bear apples. 
 
 And now why is an apple such an important thing ? 
 Why is it worth so much time and trouble ? What is 
 its use ? 
 
 " It is good to eat," chime all the children in chorus. 
 
 Yes, so it is ; but then, you must remember that once 
 upon a time, apple trees, like all other plants and trees, 
 grew T in lonely places where there were no boys and 
 
 Fig. io 
 
24 
 
 girls to eat their fruit. So we must find some other 
 answer. 
 
 Think for a moment, and then tell me what you find 
 inside every apple. 
 
 " Apple seeds," one of you replies. 
 
 And what is the use of these apple seeds ? 
 
 " Why, they make new apple trees ! " 
 
 If this be so, if every apple holds some little seeds 
 from which new apple trees may grow, does it not look 
 as though an apple were useful and important because 
 it yields seeds ? 
 
 And what is true of the apple tree is true of other 
 plants and trees. The plant lives to bear fruit. The 
 fruit is that part of the plant which holds its seeds ; 
 and it is of importance for just this reason, that it holds 
 the seeds from which come new plants. 
 
 >XKc 
 
 THE WORLD WITHOUT PLANTS 
 
 WE have just learned that the fruit is important 
 because it holds the plant's seeds ; and we know 
 that seeds are important because from them come the 
 new plants for another year. Let us stop here one 
 moment, and try to think what would happen if plants 
 should stop having seeds, if there should be no new 
 plants. 
 
 We all, and especially those of us who are children, 
 carry about with us a little picture gallery of our very 
 own. In this gallery are pictures of things which our 
 
25 
 
 real eyes have never seen, yet which we ourselves see 
 quite as plainly as the objects which our eyes rest upon 
 in the outside world. Some of these pictures are very 
 beautiful. They show us things so wonderful and de- 
 lightful and interesting, that at times we forget all about 
 the real, outside things. Indeed, these pictures often 
 seem to us more real than anything else in the world. 
 And once in a great while we admire them so earnestly 
 that we are able to make them come true ; that is, we 
 turn our backs upon them, and work so hard to bring 
 them about, that at last what was only a picture be- 
 comes a reality. 
 
 Perhaps some of you children can step into this little 
 gallery of your own, and see a picture of the great 
 world as it would be if there should be no new plants. 
 
 This picture would show the world some hundreds of 
 years from now ; for, although some plants live only a 
 short time, others (and usually these are trees) live hun- 
 dreds of years. 
 
 But in the picture even the last tree has died away. 
 Upon the earth there is not one green, growing thing. 
 The sun beats down upon the bare, brown deserts. It 
 seems to scorch and blister the rocky mountain sides. 
 There are no cool shadows where one can lie on a 
 summer afternoon ; no dark, ferny nooks, such as 
 children love, down by the stream. But, after all, that 
 does not matter much, for there are no children to 
 search out such hidden, secret spots. 
 
 "No children! Why, what has happened to them?" 
 
 Well, if plants should stop having children (for the 
 little young plants that come up each year are just the 
 
26 
 
 children of the big, grown-up plants), all other life — 
 the life of all grown people, and of all children, and of 
 all animals — would also come to an end. 
 
 Did you ever stop to think of this, — that your very 
 life depended upon these plants and trees ? You know 
 that they are pretty to look at, and pleasant to play 
 about; but I doubt if you ever realized before, that to 
 them you owe your life. 
 
 Now let us see how this can be. What did you have 
 this morning for breakfast ? 
 
 Bread and milk ? Well, of what is the bread made ? 
 Flour? Yes, and the flour is made from the seeds of 
 the wheat. If the wheat stopped having seeds, you 
 would stop having bread made from wheat seeds. That 
 is plain enough. 
 
 Then the milk, — where does that come from? 
 
 "That comes from the cows, and cows are not 
 plants," you say. 
 
 True, cows are not plants, but what would happen to 
 the cows if there were no plants ? Do not cows live in 
 the green meadows, where all day long they munch the 
 grass plants? And would there be any green meadows 
 and all-day banquets, in years to come, if the grass did 
 not first flower, and then seed? So then, no grass, no 
 cows, and you would be without milk as well as without 
 bread for breakfast. 
 
 And so it is with all the rest of our food. We live on 
 either plants or animals. If there were no plants, there 
 would be no animals, for animals cannot live without 
 plants. 
 
 It is something like the house that Jack built, isn't it? 
 
2/ 
 
 "We are the children that drink the milk, that comes 
 from the cows, that eat the grass, that grows from the 
 seeds in the meadow." 
 
 "If there were no seeds, there would be no grass to 
 feed the cows that give us our milk for breakfast." 
 
 And so it is everywhere. Plants give us a kind of 
 food that we must have, and that only they can give. 
 They could get on well enough without animals. In- 
 deed, for a long time they did so, many hundreds of 
 years ago. But animals cannot live without plants. 
 
 I think you will now remember why seeds are of 
 such great importance. 
 
 D>^C 
 
 HOW THE APPLE SHIELDS ITS YOUNG 
 
 SOME time ago you noticed that apple seeds were 
 packed away within the apple as neatly as though 
 they were precious jewels in their case. 
 
 When we see something done up very carefully, sur- 
 rounded with cotton wool, laid in a beau- 
 tiful box, and wrapped about with soft 
 paper, we feel sure that the object of all 
 this care is of value. Even the outside of 
 such a package tells us that something 
 precious lies within. 
 
 But what precious jewels could be laid 
 away more carefully than these apple 
 seeds? And what jewel case could boast 
 a more beautiful outside than this red-cheeked apple 
 (Fig. ii)? 
 
28 
 
 Pass it around. Note its lovely color, its delicate 
 
 markings, its satin-like skin. For myself, I feel sure 
 
 that I never have seen a jewel case one 
 
 half so beautiful. 
 
 Then cut it open and see how carefully 
 
 the soft yet firm apple flesh is packed 
 
 about the little seeds, keeping them safe 
 
 from harm (Fig. 12). 
 Fig. 12 
 
 But perhaps you think that anything so 
 
 good to eat is not of much use as a protection. It 
 
 takes you boys and girls about half a minute to swallow 
 
 such a jewel case as this. 
 
 But here comes the interesting part of the story. 
 
 When you learn how well able this apple is to defend 
 from harm its precious seeds, I think you will look upon 
 it with new respect, and will own that it is not only a 
 beautiful jewel case, but a safe one. 
 
 All seeds need care and wrapping-up till they are 
 ripe ; for if they fall to the ground before they are well 
 grown, they will not be able to start new plants. 
 
 You know that you can tell whether an apple is ripe 
 by looking at its seeds, for the fruit and its seeds ripen 
 together. \\ nen the apple seeds are dark brown, then 
 the apple is ready to be eaten. 
 
 But if, in order to find out whether an apple was ripe, 
 you were obliged always to examine its seeds, you might 
 destroy many apples and waste many young seeds be- 
 fore you found what you wished ; so, in order to protect 
 its young, the apple must tell you when it is ready to 
 be eaten in some other way than by its seeds. 
 
 How does it do this? Why, it puts off its green coat, 
 
2 9 
 
 and instead wears one of red or yellow ; and from being 
 hard to the touch, it becomes soft and yielding when 
 you press it with your fingers. If not picked, then it 
 falls upon the ground in order to show you that it is wait- 
 ing for you; and when you bite into it, you find it juicy, 
 and pleasant to the taste. 
 
 While eating such an apple as this, you can be sure 
 that when you come to the inner part, which holds its 
 seeds, you will find these brown, and ripe, and quite 
 ready to be set free from the case which has held them 
 so carefully all summer. 
 
 But how does the apple still further protect its young 
 till they are ready to go out into the world ? 
 
 Well, stop and think what happened one day last 
 summer when you stole into the orchard and ate a 
 quantity of green apples, the little seeds of which were 
 far too white and young to be sent off by themselves. 
 
 In the first place, as soon as you began to climb 
 the tree, had you chosen to stop and listen, you could 
 almost have heard the green skins of those apples call- 
 ing out to you, "Don't eat us, we're not ripe yet! " 
 
 And when you felt them with your fingers, they were 
 hard to the touch ; and this hardness said to you, " Don't 
 eat us, we're not ripe yet!" 
 
 But all the same, you ate them ; and the sour taste 
 which puckered up your mouth said to you, " Stop eat- 
 ing us, we're not ripe yet ! " 
 
 But you did not pay any attention to their warnings ; 
 and, though they spared no pains, those apples were 
 not able to save their baby seeds from being wasted by 
 your greediness. 
 
30 
 
 But there was still one thing they could do to prevent 
 your eating many more green apples, and wasting more 
 half-ripe seeds. They could punish you so severely for 
 having disobeyed their warnings, that you would not be 
 likely very soon to do the same thing again. 
 
 And this is just what they did. 
 
 When feeling so ill and unhappy that summer night 
 from all the unripe fruit you had been eating, perhaps 
 you hardly realized that those apples were crying out to 
 you, — 
 
 " You would not listen to us, and so we are punishing 
 you by making you ill and uncomfortable. When you 
 saw how green we were, we were begging you not to 
 eat us till our young seeds were ripe. When you felt 
 how hard we were, we were trying to make you under- 
 stand that we w T ere not ready for you yet.. And, now 
 that you have eaten us in spite of all that we did to save 
 ourselves and our seeds, we are going to make you just 
 as unhappy as we know how.. Perhaps next time you 
 will pay some heed to our warnings, and will leave us 
 alone till we are ready to let our young ones go out into 
 the world." 
 
 So after this when I show you an apple, and ask you 
 what you know about it, I fancy you will have quite a 
 story to tell, — a story that begins with one May day in 
 the orchard, when a bee went flower visiting, and ends 
 with the little brown seeds which you let fall upon the 
 ground, when you had finished eating the rosy cheeks 
 and juicy pulp of the apple seed case. And the apple's 
 story is also the story of many other fruits. 
 
SOME 
 
 COUSINS 
 
 OF THE APPLE 
 
 THE pear (Fig. 13)/' is a near cousin of the apple. 
 But perhaps you did not know that plants and 
 trees had cousins. 
 
 As you learn more and more about them, you will 
 begin to feel that in many ways plants are very much 
 like people. 
 
 Both the pear and the apple belong to the Rose 
 family. They are cousins to all the garden roses, as 
 well as to the lovely wild rose that you meet so often 
 in summer along the roadside. 
 
 We know some families where the girls 
 and boys look so much alike that we could 
 guess they were brothers and sisters, even if 
 we did not know that they all lived in the 
 one house and had the one family name. If 
 we look carefully at the plants we meet, at 
 their leaves and flowers and fruits, and even 
 at their stems and roots, often we may guess 
 rightly which ones belong to the same family. 
 
 31 
 
 Fig. 13 
 
32 
 
 If we place side by side an apple blossom and a pear 
 blossom, we see that they are very like each other. 
 Both have the green outside cup which above is cut 
 into five little green leaves. Both have five white or 
 pinkish flower leaves. Both have a good many pins 
 with dust boxes, and from two to five of those pins 
 without dust boxes. 
 
 If we place side by side a pear and an apple, we 
 see in both cases that it is the green cup, grown 
 big and juicy and ripe, which forms the delicious 
 fruit. 
 
 If we cut these two fruits open lengthwise, we can 
 see just how the pins without dust boxes are set into 
 the green cup ; and we can see that the lower, united 
 part of these pins makes a little box which holds the 
 seeds. 
 
 In the picture (Fig. 14) the shading shows you where 
 this seedbox ends, and the green cup, or 
 what once was the green cup, begins. This 
 is rather hard to understand, I know ; but 
 your teacher can make it clear to you with a 
 real pear. 
 
 So it ought to surprise you no longer to 
 
 learn that the apple and the pear are cousins. 
 
 Now, I want you to look at the picture at 
 
 the head of this chapter. This is the wild 
 
 rose, the flower from which the great Rose 
 
 family takes its name. 
 
 This rose is a much larger flower than either the 
 
 apple or the pear blossom. Its flower leaves are deep 
 
 pink. These bright flower leaves make gay handker- 
 
 Fig. 14 
 
33 
 
 Fig. 15 
 
 chiefs for signaling when the rose plant wishes to 
 attract the attention of the bees. 
 
 But there are five of them, just as there are in the 
 apple and the pear blossom ; and there are the pins 
 with dust boxes, — so many of them, in the rose, that it 
 would take some time to count them all. And in the 
 center are the pins which have seedboxes 
 below ; for these pins in the rose are quite 
 separate one from another, and each one has 
 its own little seedbox. 
 
 So, though different in some ways, in others 
 the flower of the rose is very much like those 
 of the apple and the pear. 
 
 In this picture (Fig. 15) you see its fruit. 
 This is called the "rose hip." When ripe, it turns 
 bright red. In late summer you see the rosebushes 
 covered with these pretty hips. At times this fruit 
 does not look altogether unlike a tiny apple or pear; 
 but if we cut it open lengthwise, we see that its inside 
 arrangements are quite different. 
 
 The lower parts of the pins without dust boxes do 
 not grow into one piece with the green cup 
 (now the red cup), as in the apple and the 
 pear. Instead, this cup (Fig. 16) is hollow. 
 To its inner sides are fastened the little seed- 
 boxes, as you will see if you look carefully 
 at the picture. This hollow case with its 
 separate seedboxes shows you that the rose 
 plant is not so closely related to the pear 
 and the apple trees as these trees are to each other 
 
 Fig. 16 
 
 DANA S PLANTS. 
 
34 
 
 UNEATABLE FRUITS 
 
 PERHAPS one day you 
 bit into the fruit of the 
 rose, and found it sour and 
 unpleasant to the taste. You 
 may have forgotten that not 
 long ago you learned a new 
 meaning for the word " fruit." 
 Possibly you still fancy that a 
 fruit must be something good 
 to eat. So many people have 
 this idea, that once more I wish to 
 make clear to you that the fruit is the 
 seed-holding part of the plant. 
 Whether this part is good to eat or not, 
 makes no difference as to its being a fruit. 
 
 The apple is a fruit, you remember, not be- 
 cause it is good to eat, but because it holds 
 the seeds of the apple tree. 
 
 And for this same reason the pear is a fruit. It is 
 the case in which is laid the seedbox of the pear tree. 
 This case, when ripe, happens to be juicy and delicious ; 
 but it would be quite as much a fruit if it were dry and 
 hard, and without taste. 
 
 And so the rose hip is a fruit, because it is the case 
 which holds the little seedboxes of the rose flower. 
 What is the fruit of the milkweed ? 
 All country children know the milkweed plant, with 
 its big bright leaves, and bunches of pink or red or 
 
35 
 
 Fig. 17 
 
 purple flowers (Fig. 17). And you know the puff) 
 pods that later split 
 open, letting out a 
 mass of brown, 
 silky-tailed seeds. 
 There ! I have 
 given the answer to my 
 own question ; for if the 
 plant's fruit is the seed- 
 holding part, then the milk- 
 weed's fruit must be this pod 
 stuffed full of beautiful, fairy- 
 like seeds. 
 Then you know the burdock (Fig. 18) 
 which grows along the country road. 
 But perhaps you do not know that 
 fruit of this is the prickly 
 >urr which hooks itself to your clothes on 
 your way to school. This burr (Fig. 19) 
 is the case which holds the little seeds 
 of the burdock, and so it must ...^ 
 be its fruit. 
 
 The fruit of the dandelion 
 is the silvery puffball (Fig. 
 20) or " clock," by blowing at 
 which you try to tell the time of day. 
 If you pull off one of the feathery 
 objects which go to make up the 
 puffball, at its lower end you see a 
 little dandelion seedbox (Fig. 21). 
 And these fall days, along the roadsides and in the 
 
 Fig. i; 
 
 Fig. 20 
 
Fig. 21 
 
 36 
 
 woods, everywhere you see fruits which you 
 will hardly know as such unless you keep in 
 mind the true meaning of the word. 
 
 Many of these lam sure you would not care 
 to eat. The burr from the burdock would 
 not make a pleasant mouthful. Neither 
 would you like to breakfast on a milkweed pod. And 
 a quantity of dandelion puffballs would hardly add to 
 the enjoyment of your supper. 
 
 If you should tell your mother you had brought her 
 some fruit, and should show her a basket of burrs and 
 pods, she would think you were only joking, and per- 
 haps a little foolish ; and I dare say she would be 
 greatly surprised to find you were using the word quite 
 rightly. 
 
 MORE COUSINS OF THE APPLE 
 
 Fig. 22 
 
 THE apple has three cousins, 
 all of whom are very much 
 alike. These cousins are the 
 cherry, the plum, and the peach 
 (Figs. 22, 23, 24). All three be- 
 long to the Rose family. 
 
 Have you ever noticed the great 
 family likeness between these three 
 fruits ? 
 
 Look at them in the pictures. To 
 be sure, they are of different sizes, 
 but they are almost alike in shape. 
 
37 
 
 Fig. 23 
 
 Fig. 24 
 
 And if you should cut them open lengthwise, 
 right through the stony center, all three would 
 look much like the next picture, which is taken 
 from a peach (Fig. 25). All these fruits have 
 the soft outer part which you 
 find so pleasant to the taste. 
 
 Within this, in all of them, is 
 a hard object, which we call the 
 stone or pit ; and inside this stone or 
 pit, in each case, lies the seed. 
 
 These next pictures show you two 
 views of the flower of the cherry (Figs. 
 26, 27). 
 Here you see a likeness to other mem- 
 bers of the Rose family, to the blossoms 
 of the apple and the pear. 
 
 You see that the green cup is cut into 
 five little leaves (in the picture these are 
 turned back and down- 
 ward). You see also the 
 five white flower leaves, and ever so 
 many of the pins with dust boxes. 
 But you find only 
 one of those pins 
 without dust boxes ; 
 and this, as you now 
 seedbox below, 
 is all right. The 
 cherry blossom has but one of these 
 pins, and the flowers of the peach 
 and of the plum have only one. Fig. 27 
 
 Fig. 2: 
 
 know, has a 
 Well, that 
 
38 
 
 Figure 28 shows you a cherry blossom cut open. 
 Here you see plainly the single pin with a seedbox. 
 
 This seedbox with its case is what grows into the 
 cherry. The white flower leaves, and the pins with 
 dust boxes, fall away. In the cherry flower the green 
 cup also disappears, instead of making the best part of 
 the fruit, as it does with the apple and the pear. And 
 the upper part of the seedbox pin withers 
 off ; but the seedbox below grows juicy and 
 ripe and red, at least its outer case does. 
 
 By the end of June you take out the long 
 
 ladder and place it against the cherry tree. 
 
 Seating yourself on one of its upper rungs, 
 
 you swallow the outside of the shining little ball we 
 
 call the cherry, letting the stony seedbox inside drop 
 
 down upon the ground, where all ripe seeds belong. 
 
 The story of the plum and of the peach is almost the 
 same as the story of the cherry. If you understand 
 how the single seedbox of the cherry blossom turns 
 into the cherry fruit, then you understand how the same 
 thing happens with the single seedboxes of the plum 
 and the peach blossom. 
 
 You know that in the flowers of the pear and the apple 
 there were several of these pins without dust boxes ; and 
 although these were joined below into a single seedbox, 
 this had separate compartments for the many seeds. 
 
 But the single seedboxes of the cherry, the plum, and 
 the peach, have but one hollow. Usually in this hollow 
 we find only one seed. So you see that these three 
 fruits make a little group by themselves because of 
 their great likeness to one another. 
 
39 
 
 STILL MORE COUSINS 
 
 HERRI ES and plums we find 
 growing wild in the woods 
 and fields. While in many 
 ways the wild trees are 
 unlike those we grow in 
 our orchards, yet, if you look 
 closely at their flowers and fruits, 
 you will find they answer generally to the 
 Fig. 29 descriptions you have been reading. 
 
 Early in May, when the orchard is still gray and 
 dreary, suddenly we notice that the upper branches of 
 the cherry tree look as though a light snow had fallen. 
 It seems as if the lovely blossoms had burst forth in 
 an hour. One's heart gives a joyful jump. Summer 
 is really coming. The flowers of May promise the fruit 
 of June. 
 
 But when we find the blossoms of the wild cherry, it 
 is several weeks later. Some of the little wood flowers 
 have already come and gone. The trees are thick with 
 leaves before we discover the fragrance of its slender, 
 drooping clusters; for, though in other ways these 
 blossoms are almost exactly like those of the cultivated 
 cherry, they are much smaller, and grow differently on 
 the branches. 
 
 This same difference in size and manner of growing 
 you will find between the wild and the cultivated fruits. 
 You country children know well the little chokecherries 
 (Fig. 29) that are so pretty and so plentiful along the 
 
40 
 
 lanes. These hang in bunches that remind you some- 
 what of the clusters of the currant. They are much 
 smaller than the market cherry ; yet if you cut one 
 through, you will see that in make-up it is almost ex- 
 actly like its big sister. 
 
 Those of you who live near the sea find wild beach 
 plums (Fig. 30) growing thickly along the sand hills. 
 
 These are hardly larger 
 than good-sized grapes; 
 yet if you cut them 
 open, you see that they 
 are really plums. 
 
 In our woods and 
 fields we do not find 
 any wild peaches. The 
 peach was brought to 
 us from far-away Persia. 
 Only in the garden and 
 orchard do we meet its beautiful pink blossoms. To 
 see these growing naturally we must go to their Persian 
 home. 
 
 So, while we remember that the cherry, the plum, 
 and the peach belong to one little group because of 
 their likeness to one another, let us not forget that 
 the peach is one of the foreign members of the Rose 
 family. 
 
 Fig. 
 
4i 
 
 IN THE WOODS 
 
 WHAT do you say this morning to going to the 
 woods rather than to either garden or orchard ? 
 
 Not that I am ready to take back anything I said at 
 the beginning of this book about the delights of the 
 orchard as a playground. For actual play I know of 
 no better place. An apple tree is as good a horse as it 
 is a house, as good a ship as it is a mountain. Other 
 trees may be taller, finer to look at, more exciting to 
 climb; but they do not know how to fit themselves to 
 the need of the moment as does an apple tree. 
 
 But for anything besides play, the woods, the real 
 woods, are even better than the orchard. The truth is, 
 in the woods you have such a good time just living, that 
 you hardly need to play; at least you do if you are 
 made in the right way. 
 
 So now we are off for the woods. We have only to 
 cross a field and climb a fence, and we are in the lane 
 which leads where we wish to go. 
 
 Through the trees comes a golden light. This is 
 made partly by the sunshine, but mostly by the leaves 
 turned yellow. These yellow leaves mean that summer 
 is over. It is in summer, when we are having our 
 vacation, that the leaves work hardest; for leaves have 
 work to do, as we shall learn later. But now they are 
 taking a rest, and wearing their holiday colors. 
 
 Twisting in and out over the rails of the fence are 
 clusters of berries which are very beautiful when you 
 look at them closely. Each berry is an orange-colored 
 
42 
 
 Fig. 31 
 
 case which opens so as to show a scarlet seedbox within 
 (Fig. 31). A little earlier in the year you could not 
 
 see this bright-colored 
 seedbox. It is only a 
 short time since the 
 outer case opened and 
 displayed its contents. 
 These are the berries 
 of the bittersweet. Last June you 
 would hardly have noticed its little 
 greenish flowers, and would have 
 been surprised to learn that they 
 could change into such gay fruit. 
 Do you see a shrub close by covered with berries? 
 These berries are dark blue. They grow on bright-red 
 stalks. If we wait here long 
 enough, it is likely that we shall 
 see the birds alight upon some uppt 
 twig and make their dinner on tr 
 dogwood berries; for this is one of the 
 Dogwood family, — the red-stalked dog- 
 wood, we call it (Fig. 32). When its ber- 
 ries turn a very dark blue, then the birds 
 know they are ready to be eaten, just as 
 we know the same thing by the rosy 
 cheeks of the apple. 
 
 You can be pretty sure that any fruit so 
 gayly colored as to make us look at it 
 twice, is trying to persuade some one — some boy or 
 girl, or bird, or perhaps even some bear — to come and 
 eat it. 
 
 Fig. 32 
 
43 
 
 You have not forgotten, I hope, why these fruits are 
 so anxious to be eaten ? You remember that when their 
 seeds become ripe, and ready to make new plants, then 
 they put on bright colors that say for them, "Come 
 and eat us, for our little seeds want to get out of their 
 prison ! " 
 
 Once upon a time these seeds did not find their cozy 
 seed cases a prison. So once upon a time the baby 
 robins were content to stay safe in their nest. And 
 once upon a time all the playground you needed was 
 a little corner behind your mother's chair. But seeds, 
 like birds and babies, outgrow their surroundings, and 
 need more room. 
 
 Here is a tall shrub with bright-colored leaves, and 
 clusters of dark red fruit that grow high above our 
 heads (Fig. 33). It looks something like certain mate- 
 rials used in fancywork. This shrub is called the 
 sumac ; and if you pick and pull apart one of its 
 fruit clusters, you find that it is made up of a 
 quantity of seeds that are covered with little 
 red hairs. There is nothing soft and juicy 
 about the fruit of the sumac. Whether it is 
 ever used as food by the birds, I do not 
 know. I wish some child would make it his 
 business to find out about this. Some of you 
 are sure to live near a clump of sumacs. By 
 watching them closely for a few weeks, you 
 ought to discover if any birds feed upon their fruit. 
 
 If you do make any such discovery, I hope you will 
 write a letter telling me of it ; and then, if another edition 
 of this book is published, I shall be able to tell other chil- 
 
44 
 
 dren more about the fruit of the sumac than I can tell 
 you to-day. 
 
 There are many interesting things about plants yet to 
 be found out ; and you children will find it far pleasanter 
 to make your own discoveries, using your own bright 
 eyes, than to read about the discoveries of other people. 
 Every field, each bit of woods, the road we know so 
 well leading from home to the schoolhouse, and even 
 the city squares and parks, are full of interesting things 
 that as yet we have never seen, even though we may 
 have been over the ground a hundred times before. 
 
 Now let us leave the lane, and strike into the woods 
 in search of new fruits. This morning we will look 
 especially for those fruits which by 
 their bright colors and pleasant looks 
 seem to be calling out to whomsoever 
 it may concern, "Come and eat us!" 
 Close at hand is one of our prettiest 
 plants. Its leaves look as though 
 they were trying to be in the height 
 of the fall fashion, and to outdo even 
 the trees in brightness of 
 color. These leaves are set 
 in circles about the slim stem. 
 From the top of this grow some pur- 
 ple berries (Fig. 34). 
 
 This plant is the Indian cucumber 
 root. If one of you boys will dig it 
 up with your knife, you will find that 
 a little like a cucumber. Though 
 I have never made the experiment myself, I am told 
 
 Fig. 34 
 its root is shaped 
 
45 
 
 that it tastes something like the cucumber. It is possi- 
 ble, that, as its name suggests, it was used as food by 
 the Indians. To hunt up the beginnings of plant names 
 is often amusing. So many of these are Indian, that in 
 our rambles through the woods we are constantly re- 
 minded of the days when the red man was finding his 
 chief support in their plants and animals. 
 
 In June we find the flower of the Indian cucumber 
 root. This is a little yellowish blossom, one of the Lily 
 family. Small though it is, for one who knows some- 
 thing of botany it is easy to recognize it as a lily. 
 Indeed, the look of the plant suggests the wood and 
 meadow lilies. This is partly because of the way in 
 which the leaves grow about its stem, much as they do 
 in these other lilies. 
 
 Now look at the beautiful carpet which is spread 
 beneath your feet. Here you will wish to step very 
 lightly ; for otherwise you might crush some of those 
 bright red berries which are set thickly among the little 
 white-veined leaves. 
 
 These are called " partridge berries," — a name given 
 them because they are eaten by partridges. But the 
 bare winter woods offer few tempting morsels for bird 
 meals ; and it seems likely that the nuthatch and snow- 
 bird, the chickadee and winter wren, hail with delight 
 these bright berries, and share with the partridges the 
 welcome feast. 
 
 Please look closely at one of the berries in Fig. 35, 
 and tell me whether you see anything unusual. 
 
 "There are two little holes on top." 
 
 Yes, that is just what I hoped you would notice. I 
 
4 6 
 
 do not know of any other berries in which you could 
 find these two little holes ; and as I do not believe it 
 would be possible for you to guess what made these 
 holes, I will tell you about them. 
 
 The flowers of the partridge vine always grow in 
 twos. The seedboxes of these two flowers are joined 
 in one. So when the flowers fade away, only the one 
 seedbox is left. When this ripens, it becomes the 
 partridge berry ; and the two little holes show where 
 the two flowers were fastened to the seedbox. 
 
 Try not to forget this, and early next July be sure to 
 go to the woods and look for the little sister flowers. 
 Perhaps their delicious fragrance will help you in your 
 hunt for their hiding place. Then see for yourselves 
 how the two blossoms have but one seedbox between 
 them (Fig. 35). 
 
47 
 
 i lis 
 Fig. 36 
 
 Now, we must take care not to wet our feet, for the 
 ground is getting damp. We are coming to that lovely 
 spot where the brook winds beneath the hemlocks after 
 making its leap down the rocks. What is that 
 flaming red spot against the gray rock yonder ? 
 As we draw nearer, we see that a quantity of 
 scarlet berries are closely packed upon a thick 
 stalk (Fig. 36). 
 
 Do you know the name of the plant which 
 owns this flaming fruit ? 
 
 If you were in these woods last May, at 
 every turn you met one of those quaint little 
 fellows we call " Jack-in-the-pulpit." 
 
 Jack himself, you remember, was hidden 
 almost out of sight by his "pulpit." This pulpit was 
 made of a leaf striped green or purple, or both ; and 
 this leaf curled about and above Jack (Fig. 37). 
 After a time the pretty leaf pulpit faded away, and 
 Jack was left standing all alone. 
 
 The lower part of Jack is covered with tiny 
 flowers. After these had been properly dusted 
 by the little flies (for flies, not bees, visit Jack), 
 just as the apple blossom began to change into 
 the apple, so these tiny flowers began to turn 
 into bright berries. 
 
 While this was happening, Jack's upper part 
 began to wither away ; and at last all of it that 
 was left was the queer little tail which you see 
 at the top of the bunch of berries. 
 It is said that the Indians boiled these berries, and 
 then thought them very good to eat. 
 
 Fig. 37 
 
4 8 
 
 Fig. 38 
 
 If we were lost in the woods, and obliged to live 
 upon the plants about us, I dare say we should eat, 
 and perhaps enjoy eating, many things which now 
 
 seem quite impossible ; 
 but until this happens I 
 advise you not to ex- 
 periment with strange 
 leaves and roots and ber- 
 ries. Every little while 
 one reads of the death 
 of some child as the re- 
 sult of eating a poisonous 
 plant. 
 
 The next picture (Fig. 38) shows you the fruit of 
 Solomon's seal. These dark-blue berries hang from 
 beneath the leafy stem, just as the little flowers hung 
 their yellow heads last May. 
 
 Next come the speckled red berries of the false Solo- 
 mon's seal (Fig. 39), a big cousin of the smaller plant. 
 As you see, this bears its fruit quite differently, all in a 
 cluster at the upper part of the 
 stem. These two plants seem to 
 be great chums, constantly grow- 
 ing side by side. 
 
 We have been so busy and so 
 happy that the morning has flown, 
 
 and now we must be finding our 
 
 . Fig. 39 
 
 way home to dinner ; for, unlike 
 
 the birds, we are not satisfied to dine on berries alone. 
 
 At almost every step we long to stop and look at 
 
 some new plant in fruit ; for, now that we have learned 
 
49 
 
 Fig. 40 
 
 how to look for them, berries of different sorts 
 seem thick on every side. 
 
 Low at our feet are the red ones 
 of the wintergreen (Fig. 40). 
 
 On taller plants grow the odd 
 white ones, with blackish spots, of 
 the white baneberry (Fig. 41), or 
 the red ones of the red baneberry. 
 Still higher glisten the dark, 
 glass-like clusters of the spikenard 
 Along the lane are glowing barberries (Fig. 
 42) and thorns bright with their " haws " (for 
 the fruit of the thorn is called a "haw"). 
 These look something like little apples. 
 
 Here, too, is the black alder, studded with 
 its red, waxy beads. But we must hurry 
 on, not stopping by the way. And you 
 can be sure that those birds we hear chirrup- 
 ing above us are glad enough to be left to 
 finish their dinner in peace. 
 
 Fig. 42 
 
 DANA S PLANTS. 
 
50 
 
 WHY SEEDS TRAVEL 
 
 AT last I think we all understand that by the red of 
 the apple, the purple of the plum, and the dif- 
 ferent colors worn by the berries we find in the woods, 
 these plants are inviting us, and the birds also, to eat 
 their fruit, and so release from prison their little seeds. 
 
 But what would happen, do you suppose, if no one 
 should accept this invitation ? What would become of 
 their seeds if these pears and apples and berries were 
 not eaten by boys and girls and birds ? 
 
 Most of this question you can answer for yourselves. 
 
 If you leave the apple on the tree, after a time it 
 falls off upon the ground ; and unless picked up, there 
 it lies till it decays. In the orchard every fall you see 
 apples decaying on the ground. In a little while the 
 fleshy part disappears, and the little seeds are thus let 
 out of prison without help. 
 
 But many plants are not satisfied to leave their seeds 
 so near home. Why is this, do you suppose ? 
 
 Well, this is quite a long story. 
 
 All plants of the same kind need just the same sort 
 of food. If too many apple trees grow together, they 
 soon use up all the apple-tree food in the neighborhood. 
 
 So if a seed is to grow into a strong, hearty, well-fed 
 plant, it ought to begin life in some place not already 
 full of plants in search of just the food that it needs for 
 itself. 
 
 If a plant or tree makes its fruit so good to eat that 
 some boy or girl or bird is likely to pick it, the chances 
 
5i 
 
 are that it will be carried at least a short distance before 
 its seeds are dropped upon the ground. 
 
 Once in a while a plant is rewarded for its pains by 
 having its young carried thousands of miles. 
 
 Think how far from its home the peach has traveled. 
 As I told you before, it comes to us from Persia. 
 
 Now, if the Persian peach tree had not made its fruit 
 very juicy and delicious, it is not likely that any one 
 would have taken the trouble to bring its seeds way over 
 here to us. 
 
 But this peach being what it is, one of the most deli- 
 cious of fruits, the tree was rewarded for its pains by 
 having its children taken where they were petted, and 
 made much of, and had things all their own way ; for 
 no other peach trees were on hand to do their best to 
 crowd them out. 
 
 Then think of the little partridge berry. The fleshy 
 part of this the birds eat and digest. But the little 
 seeds pass unharmed from the bird's stomach to the 
 earth, sometimes many miles from the woods where 
 they were born. 
 
 What is true of the peach and of the partridge berry 
 is true of many other fruits. 
 
 Without the help of man or bird or beast, these little 
 seeds could at last get out of their seed cases; but 
 without such help, often they could not get the start in 
 life they need. 
 
 So it would seem as if a fruit's bright color and de- 
 licious flavor were saying to us not only, " Come and eat 
 us and set our seeds free," but also, "and carry us far 
 away, so that we may have a fair chance in the world." 
 
52 
 
 SOME LITTLE TRAMPS 
 
 Fig. 43 
 
 WHEN I came home from that walk in the woods 
 the other day, it took me some time to rid my 
 clothes of many odd-looking little things, such as you 
 see in the picture above (Fig. 43). 
 
 This round burr (Fig. 44) was one of the worst of my 
 hangers-on. You know it quite well. It is the fruit of 
 the burdock. Can some child tell me why I 
 call this prickly burr a fruit ? 
 
 Now let us look carefully at this seed case or 
 f ruit of the burdock. 
 
 Instead of being smooth to the touch, like 
 some other fruits we know, such as the apple and the 
 pear, it is covered with stiff hooks. By these hooks it 
 fastened itself so firmly to my clothes, that it was diffi- 
 cult to pull it off without making a tear. 
 
 Why does the burdock put its seeds into such a 
 prickly case ? 
 
 Please stop reading for a moment and try to answer 
 this question. 
 
 Cudgel well your brains for the use of such a prickly 
 seed case as that of the burdock plant. 
 
53 
 
 Now I am hoping that one of you children will be 
 able to think out some such answer as this : — 
 
 " Of course, the burdock plant doesn't want its seeds 
 to fall on the piece of ground that has been used up 
 already by other burdocks, any more than the partridge 
 vine wishes to drop its seeds in the same little hollow 
 where other partridge vines have eaten all the good 
 food. As this burdock plant cannot make its seed 
 case so bright and pretty, and good to eat, that the 
 birds will carry it off, it must manage in some other 
 way to send its seeds on their travels. And this is 
 what it does : it covers the seed case with little hooks. 
 When the seeds inside are quite ripe, this case breaks 
 off very easily. So when the children come hunting 
 berries, it hooks itself to their clothes, or else it catches 
 in the hair of their dogs, or takes hold of the wool of 
 grazing sheep, and gets carried quite a way before it 
 is picked or rubbed off. When that happens, it is far 
 enough from its old home to set up for itself." 
 
 I should indeed be pleased if one of you children 
 could give me some such answer as that. 
 
 So you see this prickly seed case does just as much 
 for its little charges as the juicy apple and velvety 
 peach do for theirs. 
 
 And the same thing is true of all those other hooked, 
 or barbed, or prickly little objects that I picked off my 
 clothes the other day, and that cling to you when you 
 take a walk in the fall woods. 
 
 They are all fruits. They are the ripe seed cases of 
 the different plants. 
 
 But they are dull-looking, and often quite vexing, 
 
54 
 
 instead of being pleasant to the sight and taste and 
 touch. 
 
 This makes no difference, however, in their having 
 things pretty much their own way. We do not in the 
 least want to carry abroad these little torments, scatter- 
 ing far and wide their seeds, so that another year there 
 will be more burrs and barbs and bristles than ever, to 
 tear our clothes and worry our/dogs; but they force us 
 to do them this service, whether we will or no, and 
 never stop to say " By your leave." 
 
 At every turn they are waiting for us. Where we 
 climb the fence, and cross the fields, and break through 
 the woods, we can almost fancy that we hear them 
 whispering together, "Here they come! Now is our 
 chance ! " 
 
 They remind us of those lazy tramps that lie along 
 the railway, getting on the trucks of passing trains, and 
 stealing rides across the country. 
 
 These ugly hooked fruits have one great advantage 
 over the pretty ones that are good to eat. They do not 
 have to wait our pleasure. But when we are most 
 busy and hurried, without a moment to loiter in the 
 apple orchard or among the berry bushes, then, quite 
 as well as, if not better than, during our leisure 
 moments, they lay hold upon us with their tiny claws, 
 and cling closely till we set to work to get rid of them. 
 When we pick them off and fling them to the ground, 
 we are doing just what they most wish. 
 Fig. 45 I n this picture (Fig. 45) you see the seed case of 
 the tick trefoil. This plant belongs to the Pea family ; 
 and its fruit is really a pod, something like that of the 
 
55 
 
 garden pea. But when this pod of the tick trefoil is 
 ripe, it splits into five little pieces. Each piece is a 
 separate seed case. This is covered with hooked 
 hairs, by means of which it fastens itself to our 
 clothing and to the hair of animals, just as the 
 burr of the burdock did. These little seed cases 
 go by the name of "ticks." 
 
 Here is the fruit of the stick-tight (Fig. 46). 
 You see its two teeth that are so well fitted to weave 
 themselves into either cloth or hair. 
 
 Fig. 47 shows you a strange and terrible fruit of this 
 same class. It grows on an 
 African plant, and may fasten 
 itself so firmly into the hair 
 of animals, that the attempt 
 to get it out is almost hope- 
 less. Sometimes an unfortu- 
 nate lion will kill himself in 
 his efforts to wrench this 
 tormenting seed case from ' 
 
 his skin. In his struggles he gets it into his mouth, 
 and so dies. 
 
 I am glad to say we have nothing so terrifying as 
 this among our hooked fruits. 
 
 Even if at times you are tempted to lose your patience 
 with such impertinent little tramps as they are, I think 
 you can hardly help admiring the clever way in which 
 they manage to get a free ride. 
 
M'/t 
 
 o 
 
 SEED SAILBOATS 
 
 N your way to school these fall days, often 
 you notice certain white, silky things 
 floating lazily through the air. Sometimes you 
 catch one of these little objects, and blow it 
 away again with a message to a friend. Or per- 
 haps you wish upon it. At least, this is what I 
 did as a child. Life in those days was full of 
 these mysterious "wishes." A white horse, a 
 hay cart, the first star, a wandering thistle 
 down, — each promised the possible granting 
 of one's most secret wish. 
 
 That the thistle down comes from the thistle 
 plant, you know. But not all the silky things 
 that look like fairy sailboats are thistle down, 
 for many plants beside the thistle let loose these 
 tiny air ships. 
 Have you ever wondered where they come from, 
 what they are doing ? Or do they seem to you so lazy, 
 so drifting, so aimless, that you doubt if they are going 
 anywhere in particular, or have really anything to do ? 
 
 But by this time you have learned that plants have 
 better reasons for their actions than you had dreamed 
 before you began to pay them some attention. You 
 
 56 
 
57 
 
 have discovered that they dress their 
 flowers in gay colors so that the bees 
 may be tempted to visit them and pow- 
 der them with golden dust. You have 
 learned that they make their fruits juicy 
 and delicious so that boys and girls and 
 birds may be persuaded to carry off their seeds ; and 
 the better you know them, the more certain you feel 
 that they manage their affairs with much common sense, 
 that they are not likely to take time and trouble for 
 nothing. 
 
 So let us look closely at some of these air ships, and 
 try to guess their errand. 
 
 I hope that some time ago you were told to get together 
 as many different kinds as you 
 could find, and to bring them 
 
 /^ vMp(l! m\\rk^- nere tnis morning. 
 
 In this picture you see some of 
 the air ships of the milkweed 
 (Fig. 49> 
 The lower part of Fig. 48 is a seed- 
 box of the milkweed. To this are 
 fastened the silky threads which make 
 the sail that carries the seed through 
 the air with the least wind, just as the 
 canvas sail carries the boat across the water. 
 Can you think of some other plants that 
 send abroad seed sailboats ? 
 Perhaps some of you remember the beauti- 
 ful pink or purple flowers which grew last 
 summer in tall spikes along the road and up the moun- 
 
 i 
 
 Fig. 49 
 
58 
 
 tain side. These were borne upon a plant called some- 
 times nreweed and again willow herb (Fig. 50). The 
 first name was given to it because it grows freely 
 in places that have been laid waste by 
 fire. The latter one it owes to its 
 leaves, which look somewhat like 
 those of the willow. 
 
 By the end of August most 
 of these beautiful blossoms had 
 disappeared, leaving in their 
 
 place the fruit. This fruit of 
 
 the nreweed or willow herb is 
 
 a long pod such as you see in 
 
 the picture ( Fig. 5 1 ). This pod 
 
 is packed full of seeds, to each one of 
 
 which is fastened a silky sail. Finally all 
 
 these pods split open, letting out their little 
 
 *^— air ships (Fig. 52), and giving a beautiful, 
 
 feathery look 
 
 Fig. 51 
 
 A 
 
 Fig. 50 
 
 to the great 
 
 patches 
 which they are found. 
 Another plant 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 
 
 which fft* 
 a u n c h e s C-1 
 
 E&v Yj the cL 
 ^! ) tis. In 
 
 Fig. 52 
 
 air ships is 
 clema- 
 Au- 
 g u s t its 
 pretty white 
 blossoms 
 
 Fig. 53 
 
 Fig. 54 
 
 clamber over the stone wall, and twist about the bushes 
 
59 
 
 and trees, making the lanes very lovely. In the fall 
 
 this climber is almost as pretty as in summer, for its 
 
 fruit clusters (Fig. 53) are 
 
 made of such long-tailed 
 
 seeds as you see in Fig. 
 
 54. When these open, and 
 
 float away with the first 
 
 light wind, you can see 
 
 how well their little sails 
 
 are fitted to catch the 
 
 breeze. 
 
 In October and Novem- 
 ber nearly every roadside 
 
 is lined with clusters such 
 
 as you see in the next pic- 
 ture, except that the picture 
 
 cannot give their soft, 
 
 velvety look. These are the fruit 
 clusters of the golden-rod (Fig. 
 55), made up of quantities of 
 silky-tailed seeds such as you see 
 above (Fig. 56). 
 
 And this is the fruit cluster of 
 the aster (Fig. 57). Each little 
 puffball is composed of many 
 aster seeds (Fig. 58). 
 
 The pasture thistle is almost 
 as beautiful in fruit as in flower. 
 It swells up into a great silvery 
 
 cushion, which finally vanishes in a cloud of floating 
 
 thistle down. 
 
 Fig. 56 
 
 FlG - 55 
 
 Fig. 57 
 
 Fig. 58 
 
6o 
 
 And here is the fruit cluster of the dandelion (Fig. 
 59), and also a single seed sailboat (Fig. 60). 
 
 Hundreds of other plants attach these 
 ittle sails to their seeds. You can hardly 
 walk a step in the fall along the country 
 roads without meeting these masses of 
 feathery fruit made up of just such seeds. 
 So now we come back to our 
 questions, "Where are they 
 are they doing ? " 
 have learned why the apple 
 tridge vine pack their 
 cases, and why the bur- 
 tight cover theirs with 
 vou ought to answer 
 these questions very easily. You found that those plants 
 wished to send their little seeds abroad, so that they 
 might get a better foothold in some piece of earth that 
 was not used already by plants hungry for the very 
 food that they most needed. 
 
 This is just what the thistle and milkweed and dande- 
 lion and aster want for their seeds ; and this is why 
 they fasten them to little sails, and send them far away 
 on a voyage of discovery. 
 
 going t 
 And 
 tree ai.d the par- 
 seeds in prettv 
 dock and the stick 
 hooks and bristles 
 
 Fig. 60 
 
bi 
 
 WINGED SEEDS 
 
 Eig. 62 
 
 ANY of the trees also send their seeds 
 on air voyages, in the hope of finding 
 some piece of land that will give them a chance to 
 Pig. 61 grow into new, strong trees. 
 
 The seeds of the willow (Fig. 62) 
 have silky white sails such as we have 
 found already in the plants of the milk- 
 weed and willow herb ; and the cotton- 
 wood tree is so called because its tufted 
 
 seeds remind one of the famous cotton 
 seeds from which we get our cotton thread 
 (Fig. 63). 
 
 There are other trees which use wings 
 instead of sails when they send their seeds 
 flying through the air. 
 
 Here you have the winged fruits of the 
 maple (Fig. 64). In summer you see these winged 
 fruits hanging in clus- 
 ters from the trees; and 
 later in the year they 
 are thickly scattered 
 along the village street 
 and in the city squares. 
 
 You can understand FlG - 6 4 
 
 how easily the maple seeds inside these cases would be 
 carried upon the breeze by their wings. 
 
 ¥1 
 
 Fig. 63 
 
Fig. 65 
 
 62 
 
 Each seed of the elm tree 
 is winged nearly all the way 
 round. The picture (Fig. 65) 
 shows you a cluster of these 
 as they look upon the tree. 
 
 Here is a bunch of the long- 
 winged seeds of the ash (Fig. 
 66). Next comes a fruit cluster 
 from the hop hornbeam (Fig. 
 a single 
 
 Fig. 68 
 
 Fig. 66 
 
 67), and above is 
 
 fruit (Fig. 68). 
 
 The seeds of the pine tree 
 
 are hidden away in the pine 
 
 cone (Fig. 69) you know so 
 
 well, and those of the hem- 
 lock in the hemlock cone 
 
 (Fig. 61). When they are 
 
 quite ripe, they break away from these cones. In 
 so doing, each one carries 
 with it a little piece of the 
 cone, which acts as a wing- 
 to the seed (Fig. 70). 
 
 Nearly all of these seeds 
 you can find for yourselves 
 when you wander about the 
 country. Indeed, if you have 
 eyes that are good for any- 
 thing, many of them you can- 
 not help seeing. It is all 
 very well to read about these 
 Fig. 67 plants and trees, and to look 
 
 Fig. 69 
 
 Fig. 70 
 
63 
 
 at pictures of their flowers and fruits, and to have 
 your teacher bring into the schoolroom specimens for 
 examination. If this is all the city children can do 
 (although even in the city one can do more than this), 
 why, surely it is far better than nothing. 
 
 But best of all is it to go right into the woods and 
 fields where these strange, interesting creatures are 
 living, and to see for yourselves their manners and 
 customs. 
 
 SHOOTING SEEDS 
 
 OWN by the brook and along the 
 
 sides of the mountain grows a 
 
 tall shrub which is called the 
 
 witch-hazel. I hope some of you 
 
 know it by sight. I am sure that 
 
 many of you/ know its name on account of the extract 
 
 which is applied so often to bruises and burns. 
 
 This picture (Fig. 71) shows you a witch-hazel branch 
 bearing both flowers and fruit ; for, unlike any other 
 plant I know, the flower of the witch-hazel appears late 
 in the fall, when its little nuts are almost ripe. These 
 nuts come from the flowers of the previous year. 
 
 It is always to me a fresh surprise and delight to 
 
6 4 
 
 come upon these golden blossoms when wandering 
 through the fall woods. 
 
 Often the shrub has lost all its leaves before these 
 appear. You almost feel as if the yellow flowers had 
 made a mistake, and had come out six months ahead 
 of time, fancying it to be April instead of October. 
 In each little cluster grow several blossoms, with flower 
 leaves so long and narrow that they look like waving 
 yellow ribbons. 
 
 But to-day we wish chiefly to notice the fruit or nut 
 of the witch-hazel. 
 
 Now, the question is, how does the witch-hazel man- 
 age to send the seeds which lie inside this nut out into 
 the world ? I think you will be surprised to learn just 
 how it does this. 
 
 If you have a nut before you, you see for your- 
 selves that this fruit is not bright-colored and juicy- 
 looking, or apparently good to eat, and thus likely to 
 tempt either boy or bird to carry it off; you see that 
 it is not covered with hooks that can lay hold of your 
 clothing, and so steal a ride ; and you see that it has 
 no silky sails to float it through the air, nor any wings 
 to carry it upon the wind. 
 
 And so the witch-hazel, knowing that neither boy nor 
 girl, nor bird nor beast nor wind, will come to the rescue 
 of its little ones, is obliged to take matters into its own 
 hands ; and this is what it does. It forces open the 
 ripe nut with such violence, that its little black seeds 
 are sent rattling off into the air, and do not fall to the 
 ground till they have traveled some distance from home. 
 Really they are shot out into the world (Fig. 72). 
 
65 
 
 If you wish to make sure that this is actually so, 
 gather some of these nuts, and take them home with 
 you. It will not be long before they begin to pop open, 
 and shoot out their little seeds. 
 
 Did you ever hear of Thoreau ? He was a man who 
 left his friends and family to live by himself in the 
 woods he so dearly loved. Here he grew to know 
 each bird and beast, each flower and tree, almost as 
 if they were his brothers and sisters. One day 
 he took home with him some of these nuts, and 
 later he wrote about them in his journal, — 
 
 " Heard in the night a snap- 
 ping sound, and the fall of 
 some small body on the floor 
 from time to time. In the morning I found ^ FlG 
 it was produced by the witch-hazel nuts on 
 my desk springing open and casting their seeds quite 
 across my chamber." 
 
 Now, I do not want any of you children to go off 
 by yourselves to live in the woods ; but I should like 
 to think that you could learn to love these woods and 
 their inmates with something of the love that Thoreau 
 felt. And if you watch their ways with half the care 
 that he did, some such love is sure to come. 
 
 Although the witch-hazel's rough way of dealing 
 with its young is not very common among the plants, 
 we find much the same thing done by the wild gera- 
 nium, or crane's bill, and by the touch-me-not. 
 
 The wild geranium is the pretty purplish, or at times 
 pink flower which blossoms along the roads and in the 
 woods in May and early June. 
 
 DANA'S PLANTS. — K 
 
66 
 
 Fig. 73 
 
 Its seedbox has five divisions. In fruit this seedbox 
 tapers above into a long beak, which gives the plant 
 its name of " crane's bill." When the 
 fruit is quite ripe, it splits away from the 
 central part of this beak in five separate 
 pieces, which spring upward so suddenly 
 that the seeds are jerked out of the five 
 cells, and flung upon the earth at a dis- 
 tance of several feet. The picture (Fig. 
 y$) shows you how this is done. But a 
 little search through the summer woods 
 will bring you to the plant itself ; and if 
 you are patient, perhaps you will see 
 how the wild geranium gets rid of its 
 children. But though this habit may at 
 first seem to you somewhat unmotherly, if you stop to 
 think about it you will see that really the parent plant 
 is doing its best for its little ones. If they should fall 
 directly upon the ground beneath, their chances in life 
 would be few. About plants, as about people, you must 
 not make up your minds too quickly. 
 
 Another plant that all of you country children ought 
 to know, is the touch-me-not, or jewelweed. Sometimes 
 this is called ''lady's eardrop," because its pretty, red- 
 gold, jewel-like flowers remind us of the 
 drops that once upon a time ladies wore 
 in their ears. These flowers we find in 
 summer in wet, woody places. In the 
 fall the fruit appears. This fruit is a 
 little pod (Fig. 74) which holds several seeds. When 
 this pod is ripe, it bursts open and coils up with an 
 
 Fig. 74 
 
6; 
 
 elastic spring which sends these seeds also far fror 
 home (Fig. 75). ^ 
 
 This performance of the touch-me-not you 6 ^ ? 
 
 can easily see; for its name "touch-me-not" ^ 
 
 comes from the fact that if you touch too roughly 
 one of its well-grown pods, this will spring open 
 and jerk out its seeds in the way I have just 
 described. 
 
 In Europe grows a curious plant called the 
 " squirting cucumber " ( Fig. 76). Its fruit is a small 
 cucumber, which becomes much inflated with 
 water. When this is detached from its stalk, its 
 contents are " squirted " out as if from a foun- 
 tain, and the seeds are thus thrown to a distance 
 of many feet. 
 
 THE CHESTNUT AND OTHER SEEDS 
 
 Fig. 75 
 
 branches till the open 
 contents. But sometimes 
 
 AT the head of this chapter you 
 see the fruit of the chestnut 
 tree (Fig. 77). 
 
 What fine October days this pic- 
 ture brings to mind, — clear, cold 
 mornings when we arm ourselves 
 with baskets and a club, and go 
 chestnuting. 
 
 Usually the boys climb the 
 
 tree, and shake the 
 
 burrs rattle out their 
 
 a teasing cluster refuses 
 
68 
 
 to set loose its treasure. Then the club comes into 
 play. If it strikes the great burrs, and raps out their 
 fat chestnuts, a shout of joy follows. 
 
 What a delight it is to hunt in the long grass for the 
 glossy brown beauties just after a sudden shower from 
 above ! No one speaks. Ail are bent low in breath- 
 less search. 
 
 I know of nothing much more perfect in its way 
 than an open chestnut burr, still holding its two or 
 three fine nuts. Its green, prickly outer covering makes 
 a fine contrast to the velvety brown lining ; and within 
 this beautiful case the plump, shining nuts are laid with 
 the daintiest care. 
 
 Perhaps the chestnut burr is even safer as a seed 
 case than the apple. While its seeds (the chestnuts) 
 are young and unripe, it does not stop to plead, " Pray, 
 don't destroy my baby nuts ! " but it seems to call out 
 sternly, " Hands off!" and promptly punishes the boy 
 or girl who disobeys this rough command. 
 
 But when the chestnut seeds are quite ripe, then it 
 opens as wide as it knows how ; and very tempting it 
 looks as it unfolds its contents. A chestnut tree in 
 October looks like one great invitation. 
 
 The acorn (Fig. 78), the seed of the oak tree, is 
 pretty enough as a plaything, but less pleasing than 
 the chestnut. Only the squirrel seems to find it 
 
 Fig. 78 
 
 The trees which hide their seeds in nutshells con- 
 trive in different ways to send them abroad. 
 Many of these nuts are hoarded as winter food by 
 the squirrels. Often in a moment of fright these little 
 
6 9 
 
 creatures drop them by the way. Again, they forget 
 just where they deposited their hoard, or for some other 
 reason they leave it untouched. Thus many nuts are 
 scattered, and live to change into trees. 
 
 Others may fall into the water, and float to distant 
 shores. The cocoanut, for example, has been carried 
 in this way for hundreds of miles. Its outer covering 
 protects the seed from being soaked or hurt by water ; 
 and when at last it is washed upon some distant shore, 
 it sends up a tall cocoanut tree. 
 
 3**C 
 
 SOME STRANGE STORIES 
 
 WHEN I began to tell you children about the dif- 
 ferent ways in which plants send their young 
 out into the world, I had no idea that I should take so 
 much time, and cover so many pages with the subject. 
 And now I realize that I have not told you one half, 
 or one quarter, of all there is to tell. 
 
 You have learned that seeds are scattered abroad by 
 animals that eat the bright cases in which they are 
 packed, and by animals into whose hair or clothing 
 they manage to fasten themselves. 
 
 You know that sometimes seeds are blown through 
 the air by means of silky sails to which they are fas- 
 tened, or else by their little wings. 
 
 You discovered that certain plants actually pushed 
 their young from their cozy homes in no gentle fashion, 
 much as a mother bird shoves her timid little ones from 
 the edge of the nest. 
 
;o 
 
 Fig. 79 
 
 And in the last chapter you read that occasionally 
 seeds were floated by water to distant shores. 
 
 Now, these are the chief ways in which plants con- 
 trive to dispose of their seeds ; but they are not the 
 only ways. Before leaving the subject altogether, I 
 will mention a few plants which use other contrivances. 
 This picture (Fig. 79) shows you the fruit of the 
 poppy. Many of you know it well. In the fall 
 you find in the garden these pretty seedboxes. 
 They answer famously as pepper pots, if one 
 chances to be playing house in the orchard. 
 
 Just below the top of the poppy seedbox the 
 picture shows you a circle of little openings ; and 
 inside the seedbox are many poppy seeds (Fig. 80). 
 But how can seeds get out of these openings, 
 do you suppose ? 
 If they were lower down, it would be an easy matter 
 for the seeds to drop out, right on the ground. But 
 perhaps it is well that this cannot happen. Did such 
 a quantity of seeds fall upon one small bit of 
 earth, they would have a poor chance for life. 
 
 Well, then, you ask, must they wait patiently in 
 the seedbox till some child comes along and pulls 
 it off for a pepper pot ? 
 
 No, they are not obliged to wait always for 
 you children. This is fortunate for the poppy 
 plants that are so unlucky as to live in lonely gar- 
 dens where no children ever play. 
 Then what does happen ? 
 
 If you will go out into the garden the next windy 
 fall day, you will see for yourselves. You will see the 
 
7i 
 
 tall poppy plants swaying to and fro with every gust 
 of wind ; and you will see how the seedboxes are 
 tossed from side to side, and that every now and then 
 a very violent toss sends the little seeds tumbling head 
 over heels out of the little openings just as effectively 
 as if the wind too were playing house and using them 
 as pepper pots. 
 
 When the seeds are let loose in this way, the tall 
 poppy plants are swayed so far to one side, and the 
 wind is blowing so hard, that they land upon the 
 ground much farther from home than would have been 
 the case had they fallen through openings cut in the 
 lower part of the seedbox. 
 
 In the East grows a strange plant called the " rose 
 of Jericho." Its fruit is a pod. When this plant is 
 nearly ready to get rid of its seeds, what do you think 
 it does ? It lets go its hold upon the earth, curls itself 
 up into a little ball, and is driven here and there by 
 the wind. When it finds a nice damp place, it stops 
 and uncurls itself ; and the little pods 
 split open, and drop their seeds on 
 the earth. 
 
 Some plants bear fruits that look 
 
 very much like insects. It is believed 
 
 that sometimes these are taken for 
 
 such, and snapped up by birds, and 
 
 thus succeed in getting away from 
 
 home. 
 
 Fig. 8i 
 This picture (Fig. 81) shows you 
 
 a pod which, as it lies upon the ground, looks like a 
 
 centiped. 
 
72 
 
 Here you have a seed which is shaped and 
 marked like a beetle (Fig. 82). 
 
 The next picture (Fig. 83) shows you a seed 
 from the castor-oil plant. You can see that it 
 Fig. 82 might easily be mistaken for some insect. 
 
 Think how disappointed the bird must be, * q 
 after having greedily snapped up and carried off one 
 of these little objects, to discover that for all his pains tlG _ g, 
 he has secured nothing but a dry, tough pod or seed. 
 
 But if the mother plant really does any thinking at 
 all, cannot you fancy how she chuckles with delight 
 over the trick she has played, and the clever way in 
 which she has started her young on its travels ? 
 
 There is still another way in which birds help to 
 scatter seeds. They alight in wet places, covering 
 their little feet with mud. Now, a clot of mud may 
 contain many different seeds ; and for days this clot 
 may stick to the bird's foot, and thus cause the seeds 
 it holds to be carried for hundreds of miles. 
 
 Have you ever heard of Darwin ? He was a great 
 man who spent most of his life in studying plants and 
 animals. 
 
 How many years do you suppose he was interested 
 in the study of those long, brown worms which you 
 find in quantities in the lawn and after heavy rains 
 along the sidewalk ? At intervals for forty-four years 
 he studied these little creatures which you girls think 
 ugly and uninteresting enough, although the boys know 
 they make fine fish bait. 
 
 Well, Darwin once raised eighty-two plants from 
 seeds contained in a clot of earth which was clinging 
 
73 
 
 to the leg of a partridge. So you can see that when 
 a bird gets his feet wet, he may really be doing the 
 world a service. And it is not likely that he takes cold 
 himself. 
 
 Now, I want you children to see how many different 
 ways you can recall in which plants scatter abroad their 
 little seeds ; and later I want you to go out into the 
 garden, or into the woods, and see if you cannot dis- 
 cover many of the seeds about which you have been 
 reading. But better still it would be if you could find 
 others of which I have told you nothing. 
 
 I should like you to make a list of the different plants 
 which you find in fruit, putting after each name a slight 
 description of the way in which it gets rid of its seeds. 
 This will not be a stupid task at all if you set your 
 mind to it. It will give your walks a new pleasure, 
 and it will bring to your school work something of the 
 freshness and joy which belong to the woods. 
 
Part II — Young Plants 
 
 >x*< 
 
 HOW THE BABY PLANT LIVES 
 
 WHEN these little seeds at last find a good resting 
 place, what do you think happens to them ? 
 They grow into new plants, of course. But how does 
 this come about ? How does a seed turn into a plant ? 
 
 I could hardly expect you to guess this, any more 
 than I could have expected you to guess how the apple 
 flower changes into the apple fruit. I will tell you a 
 little about it ; and then I hope your teacher will show 
 you real seeds and real plants, and prove to you that 
 what I have said is really so. 
 
 Of course, you believe already that I try to tell yen 
 the exact truth about all these things. But people far 
 wiser than I have been mistaken in what they 
 thought was true ; and so it will be well for you 
 to make sure, with your own eyes, that I am right 
 in what I say. 
 
 If you should cut in two the seed of that beau- 
 tiful flower the garden peony, and should look at ' 4 
 
 it very closely through a good magnifying glass, you 
 would find a tiny object such as you see in the half 
 seed shown in this picture (Fig. 84). Both your eyes 
 
 75 
 
7 6 
 
 and your glass need to be very good to show you that 
 this little object is a baby peony plant. Fig. 85 gives 
 the little plant as it would 'look if taken out of the seed. 
 
 Every ripe seed holds a baby plant ; and to become a 
 grown-up plant, it needs just what boy and girl babies 
 need, — food and drink and air. 
 
 But shut up so tight in its seed shell, how can it get 
 these ? 
 
 Well, in this peony seed its food is close at hand. It 
 is packed away inside the seed, all about the little plant. 
 
 In the picture (Fig. 84), everything except the little 
 
 f j\ white spot, which shows the plant, is baby food, — 
 
 \ / food that is all prepared to be eaten by a delicate 
 
 V/ little plant, and that is suited to its needs just as 
 
 IG " 5 milk is suited to the needs of your little sister or 
 
 brother. 
 
 The little leaves of the baby plant take in the 
 food that is needed to make it grow fat and strong. 
 
 Now, how does the baby plant get water to drink ? 
 
 I have asked your teacher to soak over night some 
 peas that have been dried for planting, and to bring 
 to school to-day a handful of these, and also a handful 
 which have not been soaked. She will pass these 
 about, and you can see how different the soaked ones 
 are from the others. Those that have not been in the 
 water look dried and wrinkled and old, almost dead in 
 fact; while those which have been soaked are nearly 
 twice as large. They look fat, and fresh, and full of 
 life. Now, what has happened to them ? 
 
 Why, all night long they have been sucking in water 
 through tiny openings in the seed shell ; and this 
 
77 
 
 water has so refreshed them, and so filled the wrinkled 
 coats and swelled them out, that they look almost 
 ready to burst. 
 
 So you see, do you not, how the water manages to 
 get inside the seed so as to give the baby plant a drink ? 
 
 Usually it is rather late in the year when seeds fall to 
 the earth. During the winter the baby plant does not 
 do any drinking ; for then the ground is frozen hard, 
 and the water cannot reach it. But when the warm 
 spring days come, the ice melts, and the ground is full 
 of moisture. Then the seed swells with all the water 
 it sucks in, and the baby plant drinks, drinks, 
 drinks, all day long. 
 
 You scarcely need ask how it keeps warm, this 
 little plant. It is packed away so snugly in the 
 seed shell, and the seed shell is so covered by 
 the earth, and the earth much of the time is so 
 tucked away beneath a blanket of snow, that usually 
 there is no trouble at all about keeping warm. 
 
 But how, then, does it get air? 
 
 Well, of course, the air it gets would not keep alive 
 a human baby. But a plant baby needs only a little 
 air ; and usually enough to keep it in good condition 
 makes its way down through the snow and earth to 
 the tiny openings in the seed shell. To be sure, if the 
 earth above is kept light and loose, the plant grows more 
 quickly, for then the air reaches it with greater ease. 
 
 So now you see how the little plant inside the peony 
 seed gets the food and drink and air it needs for its 
 growth. 
 
 In the picture above (Fig. 86) you get a side view 
 
7% 
 
 of the baby plant of the morning-glory, its unripe seed 
 being cut in two. As you look at it here, its queer 
 shape reminds you of an eel. But if instead of cutting 
 through the seed, you roll it carefully between your 
 fingers, and manage to slip off its coat, and if then 
 you take a pin and carefully pick away the whitish, 
 jelly-like stuff which has been stored as baby food, you 
 will find a tiny green object which through a magnify- 
 ing glass looks like the next picture (Fig. Sy). The 
 
 narrow piece pointing downward is the stem 
 
 from which grows the root. Above this are 
 
 two leaves. 
 
 This baby plant is a very fascinating thing 
 
 to look at. I never seem to tire of picking 
 
 Ftp 87 
 
 7 apart a young seed for the sake of examining 
 
 through a glass these delicate bright-green leaves. It 
 seems so wonderful that the vine which twines far 
 above our heads, covered with glorious flowers, should 
 come from this green speck. 
 
 As this morning-glory is a vine which lives at many 
 of your doorsteps, I hope you will not fail to collect its 
 seeds, and look at their baby plants. When these are 
 very young, still surrounded by a quantity of baby food, 
 you will not be able to make them out unless you carry 
 them to your teacher and borrow her glass ; but when 
 the seed is ripe, and the little plant has eaten away 
 most of the surrounding food, it grows so big that you 
 can see it quite plainly with your own eyes. 
 
79 
 
 A SCHOOLROOM GARDEN 
 
 [WANT you children to do a little gardening in the 
 schoolroom. You will enjoy this, I am sure. 
 
 When I was a child, I took great delight in the ex- 
 periments that I am going to suggest to you ; and now 
 that I am grown up, I find they please me even more 
 than they did years ago. 
 
 During the past week I have been doing this sort of 
 gardening; and I have become so interested in the 
 plant babies which I have helped into the world, that I 
 have not been at all ready to stop playing with them, 
 even for the sake of sitting down to tell you about 
 them. 
 
 To start my garden, I had first to get some seeds. 
 So I put on my hat and went down to the little shop in 
 the village, half of which is given up to tailor work, 
 while the other half is devoted to flower raising. The 
 gray-bearded florist tailor who runs this queer little 
 place was greatly interested when he heard that I 
 wanted the seeds so that I might tell you children 
 something of their strange ways. 
 
 " Seeds air mighty interestin' things," he said. "Be 
 you young or be you old, there's nothin' sets you 
 thinkin' like a seed." 
 
 Perhaps the florist tailor had been fortunate in his 
 friends ; for I have known both grown-up people and 
 children who year after year could see the wonder of 
 seed and baby plant, of flower and fruit, without once 
 stopping to say, " What brings about these changes ? " 
 
8o 
 
 To " set thinking " some people would take an earth- 
 quake or an avalanche ; but when this sort of thing is 
 needed to start their brains working, the " thinking " is 
 not likely to be good for much. 
 
 But I hope that some of you will find plenty to think 
 about in the seeds which your teacher is going to show 
 you ; and I hope that these thoughts may be the begin- 
 ning of an interest and curiosity that will last as long as 
 you live. 
 
 The seeds which I got that morning were those of 
 the bean, squash, pea, and corn ; and your teacher has 
 been good enough to get for you these same seeds, and 
 she will show you how to do with them just what I have 
 been doing this past week. 
 
 First, I filled a pot with finely sifted earth, and 
 planted the different seeds ; then I filled a glass with 
 water, floated some cotton wool upon its surface, and 
 in this wool laid some beans ; and then my garden 
 planting was done. 
 
 During the following days I kept the earth in the pot 
 slightly moist. The cotton wool in the glass of water 
 did this for itself. 
 
 And how carefully I watched my two little gardens ! 
 
 For three days the pot of earth kept its secret. 
 Nothing happened there, so far as I could see. But 
 the beans that were laid upon the cotton wool grew 
 fat and big by the second day, just like those that your 
 teacher soaked over night ; and by the third day their 
 seed coats had ripped open a little way, just as your 
 coat would rip open if it were tightly buttoned up and 
 suddenly you grew very fat ; and out of the rip in the 
 
8i 
 
 seed coat peeped a tiny white thing, looking like the 
 bill of a chick that is pecking its way out of the egg- 
 shell which has become too small to hold it. 
 
 Very quickly this little white tip grew longer. It 
 curved over and bent downward, piercing its 
 way through the cotton wool into the water. 
 
 About this time the pot garden began to 
 
 show signs of a disturbance. Here and there FlG - 88 
 
 I saw what looked like the top of a thick green hoop 
 (Fig. 88). 
 
 What had happened, do you think? 
 
 Why, first this bean had sucked in from the damp 
 earth so much water that it had grown too fat and 
 big for the seed coat ; and it had torn this open, just 
 like the other bean, pushing out its little white tip ; and 
 this tip had bent down into the earth and taken a good 
 hold there, lengthening into a real root, and sending 
 out little root hairs that fastened it down still more 
 firmly. 
 
 But it was not satisfied to do all its growing below. 
 Its upper part now straightened itself out, and started 
 right up into the air. From a hoop it turned into a 
 stem which lifted the bean clear above the earth 
 (Fig. 89). 
 
 This bean was no longer the round object we usually 
 call by that name ; for its two halves had opened and 
 spread outward, and from between these two halves 
 grew a pair of young leaves. 
 
 As these leaves grew larger, the two half-beans 
 began to shrink, growing smaller and more withered 
 all the time (Fig. 90). 
 
 DANA'S PLANTS. — 6 
 
S2 
 
 Turn 
 
 Why was this, do you suppose ? 
 
 To make clear the reason of this, to show just why 
 the two halves of the bean grew smaller as the rest of 
 the young bean plant grew larger, I must go back a 
 way. 
 
 to the picture of the peony seed (Fig. 84). 
 There you can see how the baby plant is 
 packed away in the midst of a quantity of 
 baby food. And in the picture of the morn- 
 ing-glory seed (Fig. 86) you see the same 
 thing. 
 
 You remember that day by day the baby 
 plant ate more and more of this food, and 
 kept growing stronger and bigger, and that 
 all this time the store of food kept growing 
 smaller and smaller. 
 
 Now, if you cut open the bean, you do not 
 see a tiny plant set in the midst of a store of 
 food. 
 
 Why is this ? This is because the baby 
 bean plant keeps its food in its own leaves. 
 
 The seed coat of the bean is filled by these leaves, 
 for each half of the bean is really a seed leaf. In these 
 two thick leaves is stored all the food that is necessary 
 to the life of the baby plant ; and because of all this 
 food which they hold, the bean plant is able to get a 
 better start in life than many other young plants. 
 
 If you soak and strip off its seed coat, and pull apart 
 the two thick leaves, you will find a tiny pair of new 
 leaves already started (Fig. 91); but you will see noth- 
 ing: of the sort in the seed of the mornincc-HorY, for the 
 
 Fig. 90 
 
83 
 
 reason that this is not so well stored with baby food as 
 to be able to do more than get its seed leaves well 
 under way. 
 
 The pea, like the bean, is so full of food, that it also 
 is able to take care of a second pair of leaves. 
 
 But now to go back to the young bean plant 
 in the schoolroom garden. We were wonder- 
 ing why the two halves of the bean, which are 
 really the first pair of leaves, kept growing 
 thinner and smaller as the second pair grew 
 
 larger. 
 
 to Fig. 91 
 
 Perhaps you guess now the reason for this. 
 These first leaves, called the seed leaves, feed all the 
 rest of the young bean plant. 
 
 Of course, as they keep on doing this, they must 
 themselves shrink away ; but they do not cease with 
 their work till the plant is able to take care of itself. 
 
 By this time, however, the seed leaves have nothing 
 left to live upon. They die of starvation, and soon 
 fade and disappear. 
 
 So now you understand just what has happened to 
 the leaves that once were so fat and large. 
 
 And I hope you will remember the difference between 
 the seed of the morning-glory and that of the bean, 
 — how the morning-glory packs the baby food inside 
 the seed, of course, but outside the baby plant; while 
 the bean packs it inside the two seed leaves, which are 
 so thick that there is no room for anything else within 
 the seed coat. 
 
 But really, to understand all that I have been telling 
 you, you must see it for yourselves ; you must hold in 
 
8 4 
 
 your hands the dried bean ; you must examine it, and 
 make sure that its seed shell is filled entirely by the 
 baby plant ; you must see it grow plump and big from 
 the water which it has been drinking ; you must watch 
 with sharp eyes for that first little rip in the seed coat, 
 and for the putting-out of the tiny tip, which grows 
 later into stem and root ; you must notice how the bent 
 stem straightens out, and lifts the thick seed leaves up 
 into the air ; and you must observe how that other pair 
 of leaves, which grows from between the seed leaves, 
 becomes larger and larger as the seed leaves grow 
 smaller and thinner, and how, when the little plant is 
 able to hold its own in the world, the seed leaves die 
 away. 
 
 And if day by day you follow this young life, with 
 the real wish to discover its secret, you will begin to 
 understand what the wise old florist tailor meant when 
 he said, — 
 
 " Be you young or be you old, there's nothin' sets 
 yon thinkin' like a seed." 
 
85 
 
 A SCHOOLROOM GARDEN {Concluded) 
 
 THE picture at the top of this page (Fig. 92) shows 
 you how the young squash plant comes into the 
 world ; for you remember that in my pot garden I 
 planted some squash seeds. And I hope that in your 
 schoolroom garden you will watch this plant as it makes 
 its first appearance. 
 
 The baby food of the squash vine, like that of the 
 bean, is stored away inside the seed leaves, which on 
 this account are so large that they quite fill the seed 
 shell. They are not so thick as those of the bean, but 
 thick enough to hold all the nourishment that is needed 
 to keep the young plant alive and hearty until it is big 
 enough to shift for itself. 
 
 Very soon after this seed is laid in warm, moist earth, 
 its little plant begins to grow too large for the seed 
 shell, and the white stem is pushed out through the 
 hole you notice at one end of the seed. This stem 
 
86 
 
 Fig. 
 
 Fig. 95 
 
 forces its way into the earth below, and puts out a root, 
 and root fingers. And now its upper part begins to 
 lengthen out and to straighten itself. In doing this, 
 
 it pulls the two seed 
 leaves right out of the 
 seed coat. If it fails 
 at once to get rid of 
 the seed coat, it lifts 
 this up into the air, on 
 top of its leaves. 
 
 Often the young 
 maple tree comes into the world in this way, carrying 
 its seed coat on top of its seed leaves. The maple 
 is another plant that packs its baby food 
 within the seed leaves instead of round 
 about them. Perhaps your teacher has 
 saved for you some maple keys (Fig. 93), 
 as the fruit of the maple tree is called. If 
 you split open a maple key, you will find 
 hidden within one of its halves (Fig. 94) the 
 beautiful baby tree. This is folded away so 
 neatly that one is tempted to split open one key after 
 another, for the pleasure of unpacking other deli- 
 cate baby maples (Fig. 95). 
 
 But now let us find out what has happened to 
 the peas which I planted. 
 
 Peas seem to us so much like beans, that per- 
 haps you think the young pea baby comes into 
 the world in the same way as the bean plant ; but 
 surely we have nothing here that looks at all like the 
 bean plant. 
 
 Fig. 94 
 
87 
 
 We see some stems having small, thin, green 
 leaves. 
 
 Where are the fat seed leaves, filled with the 
 baby food that keeps the plant alive ? They are 
 not in sight, certainly, so we must start a hunt 
 for them. 
 
 If you will carefully remove the 
 earth from about this little pea plant, 
 you will soon find that the pea seed 
 from which it is growing lies buried 
 in the earth (Fig. 96). This pea seed, 
 like that of the bean, is made up chief- 
 ly of what really are two seed leaves, 
 although in the case of the pea it may seem 
 only as a matter of politeness that we give 
 them the name of " leaves ; " for in the pea 
 these seed leaves lie buried in the earth, 
 and split open just enough to allow the 
 little pea plant to grow up into the air. 
 
 But like the seed leaves of the bean, they 
 are fat and full of food, and care for the 
 young plant just as devotedly as did those 
 of the bean. When this young plant needs 
 them no more, like those of the bean, they 
 die of starvation. 
 
 Within the acorn, the seed leaves of the 
 great oak tree grow together. These lie 
 quietly in the acorn shell while sending out 
 supplies of food to the root and stem and leaves of the 
 voung oak (Fig. 97). Walnut and chestnut leaves act 
 much in the same manner. But these first leaves of the 
 
 Fig. 97 
 
walnut do not grow together, as you know. Each one 
 is packed away separately in half of the walnut shell. 
 
 The corn has but one seed leaf, which 
 makes it unlike all the other plants about 
 which we have been reading ; but it resem- 
 bles the pea, the acorn, the walnut, and the 
 chestnut in this, — that the one seed leaf 
 lies buried in the earth, as do their 
 two seed leaves. 
 
 The baby corn plant is very small. It does not 
 fill the whole seed shell, but gets its nourishment 
 from the food by which it is surrounded. 
 
 This picture shows you a seed or grain of corn 
 cut in two (Fig. 98). Of course, this is much larger 
 than life. In the center you see the tiny plant. 
 All about is the baby food. 
 
 The next picture (Fig. 99) shows you the young 
 corn plant. 
 
 I want you to remember that this is the only 
 plant we have seen with but one seed 
 leaf. This one seed leaf never comes 
 out of the seed shell. There are 
 other plants of the same kind. All 
 the grass plants have but one seed 
 leaf, and the blue flag that grows in 
 wet meadows, and all the lilies. 
 
 Only a few plants have more than two 
 of these seed leaves. The pine trees are 
 among these few. This picture (Fig. 100) 
 shows you a baby pine tree, still cradled 
 in its seed, surrounded by baby food ; and 
 
 Fig. 
 
 Fig. 100 
 
8 9 
 
 the next one (Fig. 101) shows you the pine just starting 
 out in the world, with its six seed leaves. 
 
 When you study the botany that is written for older 
 people, you will find that plants are set apart in separate 
 groups, according to the number of their seed leaves. 
 
 Strange though it may seem to you, plants with but 
 one seed leaf have certain habits that you will not find 
 in a plant with two seed leaves ; and a plant with two 
 seed leaves, long after these have passed away, will show 
 by root and stem that it had more than one seed leaf. 
 
 In your schoolroom garden I should like you to grow 
 side by side, first a plant with but one seed leaf, next a 
 plant with two seed leaves, and lastly a plant with more 
 than two. 
 
 *oX*o~ — 
 
 SEEDS AS FOOD 
 
 I WANT you to think for yourselves why it is fortu- 
 nate for us human beings that many plants store 
 away in their seeds so much baby food. 
 
 " Because without this the little plants would die, and 
 we should have no new plants to make the world beauti- 
 ful to live in," some child replies. 
 
 That answer is a good one; but it is not just the 
 answer that I wish. 
 
 Can you think of any other way in which we all 
 benefit by the large supply of baby food that is packed 
 away in certain seeds ? 
 
 If the right answer to this question does not occur to 
 you, try to remember which of those seeds we have 
 
9° 
 
 been reading about have been supplied with a specially 
 large amount~of this food. 
 
 You remember that the bean holds so much baby 
 food in its seed leaves, that these are very fat. So do 
 the pea, the walnut, and the chestnut. The seed of 
 corn, also, is well filled with baby food, only in the corn 
 seed it is packed around the outside of the seed leaves, 
 instead of the inside. 
 
 But the squash, although it puts in its seed leaves 
 enough food to keep its young plant well and hearty, 
 does not lay by any great quantity of this material. 
 Neither does the maple tree, which also stores the seed 
 leaves with food, but does not fill them nearly so full 
 as do the bean and the pea. 
 
 And the morning-glory, which packs its precious 
 white jelly (this is what the little morning-glory plant 
 likes to eat) all about its young, lays up only just 
 enough of this to last until the baby plant breaks out 
 of ifs seed shell. 
 
 Now, what difference do we find between these seeds ? 
 — between the seeds of squash, morning-glory, and 
 maple, which have only a small supply of baby food, 
 and those other ones, such as bean and pea and corn 
 and walnut and chestnut, which are packed full of 
 nourishment ? 
 
 ''Why, these last ones are good to eat! " you exclaim. 
 " They are part of the food we live upon, while the 
 squash seeds, the morning-glory seeds, and the maple 
 seeds are not good to eat." 
 
 Yes, that is the answer which I wished. The baby 
 food in these seeds makes " grown-up " food for us. 
 
9i 
 
 We get strength and nourishment from the same mate- 
 rial which the mother plant has prepared for her young. 
 
 Now try to name the different seeds which help to 
 make up our food. Already we have mentioned several 
 kinds. Besides these, there is the oat seed (from which 
 comes oatmeal), the wheat seed (from which comes 
 flour for our bread), the coffee seed, the buckwheat 
 seed, the peanut seed, the almond seed, and many 
 others, some of which will come to your mind from time 
 to time. 
 
 I wish you would make for your teacher a list of all 
 those that you can recall ; or, better still, I should like 
 you to collect as many as you possibly can, and bring 
 them to your next class. If you cannot find the seeds 
 just as they grow upon the plant, you may be able to 
 get them prepared for use. A pinch of flour, for in- 
 stance, would answer for wheat seeds, of oatmeal for 
 oat seeds. 
 
 I have in mind a number of seeds that you can easily 
 secure, of which I have not spoken ; and it will be in- 
 teresting at our next meeting to see which child in this 
 class is able to make the best exhibition of seed food. 
 
 3>^C 
 
 AN IMPATIENT PLANT BABY 
 
 PLANT babies are not alike as to the time they take 
 in finding their way out of the ripe seed shell 
 into the world. 
 
 Certain seeds need only two or three days in which 
 
9 2 
 
 to bring forth their young. Perhaps we ourselves have 
 seen the white tip of the bean rip open its shell the 
 second or third day after being laid upon the moist 
 cotton wool. But if we had not given this bean plant a 
 good chance to grow, it would have kept alive and 
 hearty inside its shell for a long time. This is not the 
 case with all plants. Certain seeds need to be planted 
 soon after thoy are ripe. If they are not their baby 
 plants die. 
 
 But usually seeds take such good care of their young, 
 that they will live for a long time, even if shut up in a 
 dark closet or a table drawer, instead of being comfort- 
 ably laid away in the warm, moist earth. 
 
 Wonderful stories are told of seeds that have sprouted 
 after having lain buried in some Egyptian tomb for 
 thousands of years ; but the people best fitted to judge 
 of the truth of such stories do not believe them. There 
 is no doubt, however, that some seeds keep their baby 
 plants alive for many years. 
 
 Early in the summer the seeds of the red maple fall 
 to the ground ; and soon after this the young plants find 
 their way up into the world above. Later in the year 
 the sugar maple sheds its seeds. These lie sleeping in 
 the earth through the winter. When the warm spring 
 days come, the baby plants awake, and stretch them- 
 selves, and join the hundreds of other, just-awakened 
 baby plants that are flocking into the world above. So 
 you see that seeds of the same family have different 
 habits in this matter. 
 
 There is one curious tree that lives in swamps along 
 the seashore of hot countries. It is called the mangrove. 
 
93 
 
 80TAJNY LIBRARI 
 
 Fig. 102 
 
 The baby plants of this tree are so anxious to get out 
 into the world, that they do not wait until the seeds in 
 which they are hidden are set free from the mangrove 
 fruit. 
 
 It is as if the little plants inside the apple seed could 
 not wait until the apple flesh should be eaten or 
 should decay, but insisted on struggling first out of 
 the seed into the apple, and then through the apple 
 into the light and air. 
 
 This picture (Fig. 102) shows you the mangrove 
 fruit. It looks more like a pear than an apple In 
 the middle of this lies hidden one seed. As time 
 goes on, this grows bigger and bigger, trying to make 
 room for the impatient little plant within ; but it does 
 not grow fast enough 
 to please this ambitious /$^ 
 young one, which finally ^r^ 
 overcomes the difficulty 
 by piercing the seed shell 
 with its stem. This stem 
 bores its way right down through 
 the mangrove fruit, and breaks into 
 the outer air. It keeps on growing 
 in this way for many weeks, till at last it is a 
 foot long (Fig. 103). Try to fancy how odd a 
 mangrove tree must look at this time, covered 
 with mangroves, from each one projecting this 
 long odd-looking beak, which one could hardly 
 guess to be the stem of the baby plant within the fruit. 
 We read that these long-beaked fruits bob about with 
 every breath of wind in a fashion that gives the tree a 
 
 Fig. io- 
 
94 
 
 still stranger look than on a day when the air is not 
 stirring. Picture a pear tree from every pear of which 
 the long stem of a baby pear tree protrudes. Would 
 you not be eager to find one of these pears and cut it 
 open, and see what sort of a baby plant it must be that 
 could send out such a great stem ? 
 
 But perhaps the strangest part of the story is yet to 
 come. At last all of these great beaks fall away from 
 the fruit ; and from the broken top of each grows a 
 little bud, such as you see in the picture (Fig. 104). 
 When this heavy beak falls upon the muddy ground 
 below, its pointed end strikes first, and so bores into the 
 earth. 
 
 Fig 104 Even if it happens to fall into the water, it does this 
 with so much force that it will pierce its way to the 
 depth of eighteen or twenty inches, and yet remain 
 standing erect when it strikes bottom, where it sends 
 out a root. When it has secured a good hold, the little 
 bud unfolds into four leaves. Above these grow larger, 
 shining leaves ; and soon the ground beneath an old 
 mangrove tree is covered with these daring little 
 adventurers. 
 
 ~o^<x> — 
 
 A HUMPBACKED PLANT BABY 
 
 NOW let us pause for a moment, and try to recall 
 a little of what we have learned since school 
 opened. 
 
 We learned that the fruit of a plant is the part which 
 holds its seed, and that there are many different kinds 
 
95 
 
 of fruits ; that the burr of the burdock, the pod of the 
 milkweed, the puff of the dandelion, are fruits, as well 
 as the apple and the pear, the acorn and the walnut. 
 
 We learned that the chief importance of these fruits 
 lies in the fact just mentioned, that they hold the seeds 
 of the plants. 
 
 Then we learned something about the many different 
 kinds of seeds, and of how these seeds managed to be- 
 come separated from the parent plant, and to get a start 
 in life. 
 
 Next we read of the baby plant which lies hidden 
 within every perfect seed. We learned how this is kept 
 safe and warm, and supplied with food, and how at last 
 it finds its way out of the seed shell into the world. 
 
 If you have been using this book in the right way, 
 not only have you read about these things, but you have 
 seen them with your own eyes. 
 
 Some of the fruits you have tasted, and others you 
 have handled. 
 
 You have examined the silky sails of the seeds which 
 float through the air, and the hooks and claws of those 
 little tramps that manage to steal free rides. 
 
 And some seeds you have planted. These you have 
 watched day by day, and you have seen that the baby 
 plants burst their seed shells much as a chick bursts its 
 eggshell. 
 
 Now what I want you to do is this : I want you 
 to study carefully the different parts of these little 
 creatures that are living out their strange, beautiful lives 
 under your very eyes. I want you to watch them from 
 day to day ; to learn how they eat and drink and work 
 
9 6 
 
 and grow, until you feel that you know them really 
 well. 
 
 First let us look at this bean plant which is breaking 
 its way through the earth. 
 Just what do you see ? 
 
 You see what looks like a thick, green hoop 
 (Fig. 105), do you not? 
 
 What is it, this odd-looking hoop ? 
 Perhaps some of you still think that it is the 
 root, for I remember that I too once supposed 
 the root was the part of the plant which first left the bean. 
 
 Fig. 105 
 
 But really this 
 made by the bent 
 that this is the 
 its lower end grows 
 from its upper part 
 flowers, and fruit. 
 
 green hoop is 
 
 stem. We know 
 
 stem because from 
 
 L, the root, while 
 
 '" grow the leaves, 
 Fig. 106 
 
 Certainly it is curious, the way in which this bean 
 plant comes into the world. Why does it not grow 
 straight up and down, do you suppose ? 
 — up with its stem and leaves, and 
 down with its root ? 
 
 But we must not forget that whenever 
 some habit on the part of a plant has 
 filled us with surprise, sooner or later = 
 we have discovered that the plant's 
 reason for it was a good one. 
 
 What reason can the bean plant have for coming into 
 the world crooked ? 
 
 Before reading further, try to think this out for your- 
 selves. Try each one of you to form an idea of what 
 
 Fig. 107 
 
97 
 
 the bean plant gains by pushing through the earth with 
 this hooped stem. 
 
 I hope some of you may guess correctly. But even 
 if you have not been successful in naming the cause of 
 the bean plant's humped back, at least you have been 
 working your brains ; and every time you do this, you 
 help to -keep them in good order. 
 
 If you let your brain lie idle, and allow your teacher 
 or your book to do for you not only all the asking of 
 questions, but also all the thinking-out of answers, it 
 will get as dull and rusty and good for nothing as a 
 machine that is laid by for a long time gets dull and 
 rusty and good for nothing. 
 
 I should be sorry to think that any of you children 
 were carrying about in your heads any such rusty, good- 
 for-nothing brains. So if you wish to keep them bright 
 and clean, and in good working order, you must try to 
 do your own thinking. 
 
 And now, hoping you have tried to guess for yourselves 
 the reason of this crooked back, I will explain it to you. 
 
 But first handle carefully the tip of one of the upper 
 leaves on the larger bean plant. You see how delicate 
 this is. 
 
 Then feel how firm and hard and tough is the green 
 hoop of the plant which is just breaking through the 
 earth. 
 
 Now suppose the bean plant had grown straight up 
 into the air, would not its uppermost part have been the 
 delicate leaf tips ? 
 
 Can you not see that these would have been too frail 
 to work their way uninjured through the earth ? 
 
 DANA'S PLANTS. — 7 
 
9 8 
 
 But by crooking its stout stem the plant opened quite 
 easily a path for itself and for its leaves, and no harm 
 was done anywhere (Figs. 106, 107). Was not this a 
 clever thought ? But really every step in the life of 
 the plant is full of interest, if we watch it with sharp 
 eyes and a brain in good order. 
 
Part III — Roots and Stems 
 
 >X«c 
 
 ROOT HAIRS 
 
 CAREFULLY pull up one of your bean plants 
 and look at its root (Fig. 108). 
 
 You see that the root grows downward from the 
 lower part of the stem. 
 
 This bean root looks not unlike a bunch 
 of dirty threads, some quite thick, others 
 very thin. If you look at these thread-like 
 roots in a good light, perhaps you may be 
 able to see growing from them a quantity of 
 tiny hairs. 
 
 Now, what is the use of such a root as this ? 
 
 Surely some of you are able to guess at 
 the object of this root, and I will help the 
 others to the answer. 
 
 Give a firm though gentle tug to one of 
 the larger plants, — one of those that are 
 growing in the pot of earth. 
 
 Does it come out easily in your fingers ? 
 
 Not at all. Unless you have been really rough, and 
 used quite a good deal of strength, the little plant has 
 kept its hold. 
 
 99 
 
 Fig. 108 
 
100 
 
 What holds it down, do you suppose ? 
 
 Ah ! Now you know what I am trying to get at. 
 Its root is what holds it in place ; and this holding of 
 the plant in place is one of its uses. 
 
 Its thread-like branches are so many fingers that are 
 laying hold of the earth. Each little thread makes it 
 just so much the more difficult to uproot the plant. 
 
 I think you know already that another juse of the 
 root is to obtain nourishment for the plant. 
 
 These thread-like roots, you notice, creep out on 
 every side in their search for food and drink. The 
 water they are able to suck in easily by means of tiny 
 mouths, which we cannot see. But the plant needs 
 a certain amount of earth food, which in its solid state 
 could not slip down these root throats any more easily 
 than a young baby could swallow a lump of sugar. 
 
 Now, how is the plant to get this food, which it needs 
 if it is to grow big and hearty ? 
 
 Suppose the doctor should tell your mother that a 
 lump of sugar was necessary to the health of your tiny 
 baby brother, what would she do about it ? 
 
 Would she put the great lump into the baby's mouth ? 
 
 You laugh at the very idea. Such a performance 
 might choke the baby to death, you know quite well. 
 
 Perhaps you think she would break the lump into 
 small pieces, and try to make the baby swallow these ; 
 but even these small pieces might prove very dangerous 
 to the little throat that had never held a solid morsel. 
 
 " She would melt the sugar in water, then the baby 
 could swallow it," one of you exclaims. 
 
 That is exactly what she would do. She would melt, 
 
IOI 
 
 or dissolve as we say, this sugar in water. Then there 
 would be no difficulty in its slipping down the little 
 throat ; for you know when anything is thoroughly 
 melted or dissolved, it breaks up into such tiny pieces 
 that the eye cannot see them. When you melt a lump 
 of sugar in a glass of water, the sugar is all there as 
 much as it ever was, although its little grains no longer 
 cling together in one big lump. 
 
 And so when the plant needs some food that the little 
 root hairs are not able to swallow, it does just what the 
 mother does. It melts or dissolves the solid food so 
 that this is able to slip quite easily down the root 
 throats. 
 
 But how does it manage this ? 
 
 No wonder you ask. A root cannot fill a glass with 
 water, as your mother did. Even if it could, much of 
 this solid food which is needed by the plant would not 
 melt in water, or in anything but certain acids ; for you 
 know that not everything will dissolve, like sugar, in 
 water. 
 
 If I place a copper cent in a glass of water, it will 
 remain a copper cent, will it not ? But if I go into a 
 drug shop and buy a certain acid, and place in this the 
 copper cent, it will dissolve almost immediately ; that 
 is, it will break up into so many tiny pieces that you 
 will no longer see anything that looks at all like a cent. 
 
 And as much of this earth food, like the copper cent, 
 can only be dissolved in certain acids, how is the plant 
 to obtain them ? Certainly it is not able to go to the 
 drug shop for the purpose, any more than it was able 
 to fill a glass with water. 
 
102 
 
 Fortunately it does not need to do either of these 
 things. 
 
 If you will look closely at the root of a plant that 
 has been raised in water, you will see that it is rough 
 with a quantity of tiny hairs. These little hairs hold 
 the acid which can dissolve the solid earth food. When 
 they touch this food, they send out some of the acid, 
 and in this it is soon dissolved. Then the little mouths 
 suck it in, and it is carried up through the root into the 
 rest of the plant. 
 
 Would you have guessed that plants were able to 
 prepare their food in any such wonderful way as this ? 
 It surprised me very much, I remember, to learn that 
 a root could give out acids, and so dissolve the earth 
 food it needed. 
 
 >xk< 
 
 ROOTS AND UNDERGROUND STEMS 
 
 IN the last chapter you learned that the root of the 
 bean plant has two uses. 
 
 It holds the plant in place, and it provides it with 
 food and drink. Such a root as this of the bean plant 
 — one that is made up of what looks like a bunch of 
 threads — is called a "fibrous" root. 
 
 The next picture shows you the root of a beet plant 
 (Fig. 109). 
 
 Such a thick, fat root as this of the beet is called 
 a "fleshy" root. The carrot, turnip, radish, and sweet 
 potato, all have fleshy roots. 
 
io3 
 
 This beet root, like that of the bean, is useful both 
 in holding the plant in place and in providing it with 
 food and drink. 
 
 But the fleshy root of the beet does something else, — 
 something that is not attempted by the fibrous root of 
 the bean. 
 
 Here we must stop for a moment 
 and look into the life of the beet 
 plant. 
 
 During its first year, the beet puts 
 out leaves ; it neither flowers nor 
 fruits, but it eats and drinks a great 
 deal. And as it does not use up any 
 of this food in flowering or fruiting, 
 it is able to lay by much of it in its 
 root, which grows large and heavy in 
 consequence. When the next spring 
 comes on, the beet plant is not obliged, 
 like so many of its brothers and sis- 
 ters, to set out to earn its living. This 
 is provided already. And so it bursts 
 into flower without delay, its food lying 
 close at hand in its great root. 
 
 So you see that a fleshy root, like 
 that of the beet, does three things : — 
 
 i. It holds the plant in place. 
 
 2. It provides it with food and 
 drink. 
 
 3. It acts as a storehouse. 
 
 These plants that lay by food for another year are 
 useful as food for man. Their well-stocked roots are 
 
:o4 
 
 taken out of the ground and eaten by us before the 
 plant has had the chance to use up its food in fulfilling 
 its object in life, that of fruiting. 
 Of course, when it is not allowed 
 to live long enough to flower and 
 fruit, it brings forth no young 
 plants. So a habit which at first 
 was of use to the plant becomes 
 the cause of its destruction. 
 
 Perhaps you think that the 
 white potato (Fig. 1 10) is a plant 
 with a fleshy root. 
 
 If so, you will be surprised to 
 learn that this potato is not a root at all, but 
 a stem. 
 
 You think it looks quite unlike any other 
 stem that you have ever seen. Probably you 
 do not know that many stems grow under- 
 neath the ground, instead of straight up in 
 the air. 
 
 If you find something in the earth that you 
 
 take to be a root, you can feel pretty 
 sure that it really is a stem, if it bears 
 anything like either buds or leaves. A 
 true root bears only root branches and 
 root hairs. But in this white potato 
 we find what we call "eyes." These eyes 
 are buds from which new potato plants 
 will grow. Close to these are little 
 scales which really are leaves. So we know that the 
 potato is a stem, not a root. But this you could not 
 
 Fig. hi 
 
io5 
 
 have found out for yourselves, even with the sharpest 
 
 of eyes. 
 
 Fig. 1 1 1 shows you the thick, fat, underground stem 
 
 of the cyclamen. From its lower part 
 
 grow the true roots. 
 
 Next you have that of the crocus (Fig. 
 
 112), while here to the right is that of the 
 
 wood lily (Fig. 113). This is covered 
 
 with underground leaves. 
 
 All these stems are usually called roots. 
 
 In the botanies such an underground stem 
 
 as that of the Jack-in-the-pulpit (Fig. 114) 
 
 is named a "corm," while one like that of 
 the crocus is called 
 (Fig. 112). All have a somewhat 
 rounded shape. 
 
 During our walks in the woods 
 last fall, often we found the Solo- 
 mon's seal, and stopped to admire 
 its curved stem, hung with blue 
 berries. I hope one of you boys 
 whipped out your pocketknife 
 
 and dug into the earth till you found its underground 
 
 stem (Fig. 115). This was laid lengthwise, its 
 
 roots growing from its 
 
 lower side. From its 
 
 upper side, close to 
 
 one end, sprang the 
 
 growing plant. But 
 
 what causes those 
 
 round, curious-looking scars ? 
 
 Fig. 114 
 
 Fig. 115 
 
io6 
 
 These scars are what give the plant its name of " Solo- 
 mon's seal." They are supposed to look like the mark 
 left by a seal upon wax. 
 
 They show where the underground stem has budded 
 in past years, sending up plants which in turn withered 
 away. Each plant has left a scar which shows one 
 year in the life of the underground stem. 
 
 Next spring when you find in the woods the little 
 yellow bells of the Solomon's seal, I think you will have 
 the curiosity to dig down and find out the age of some 
 of these plants. 
 
 Another plant with an underground stem is the beau- 
 tiful bloodroot. As its name tells you, this so-called 
 root contains a juice that looks something like blood. 
 Such underground stems as those of the Solomon's seal 
 and bloodroot are called " rootstocks." Rootstocks, 
 corms, and bulbs are all storehouses of plant food, 
 and make possible an early flowering the following 
 spring. 
 
 ABOVE-GROUND ROOTS 
 
 BUT before we finished talking about roots we were 
 led away by underground stems. This does not 
 matter much, however, for these underground stems are 
 still called roots by many people. 
 
 Just as stems sometimes grow under ground, roots 
 sometimes grow above ground. 
 
 Many of you know the English ivy. This is one of 
 the few plants which city children know quite as well 
 
 
IO/ 
 
 Fig. 116 
 
 as, if not better than, country children ; for in our cities 
 it nearly covers the walls of the churches. In England 
 it grows so luxuriantly that some of the 
 old buildings are hidden beneath masses 
 of its dark leaves. 
 
 This ivy plant springs from a root in 
 the earth ; but as it makes its way up- 
 ward, it clings to the stone wall by means 
 of the many air roots which it puts forth 
 (Fig. 1 1 6). 
 
 Our own poison ivy is another plant 
 with air roots used for climbing purposes. 
 Often these roots make its stem look as 
 though it were covered with a heavy growth of coarse hair. 
 There are some plants which take root in the 
 branches of trees. Many members of the Orchid family 
 perch themselves aloft in this 
 fashion. But the roots which 
 provide these plants with the 
 greater part of their nourish- 
 ment are those which hang 
 loosely in the air. One of these orchids 
 you see in the picture (Fig. 117). It is 
 found in warm countries. The orchids 
 of our part of the world grow in the 
 ground in everyday fashion, and look 
 much like other plants. 
 
 These hanging roots which you see in 
 the picture are covered with a sponge- 
 like material, by means of which they suck in from the 
 air water and gases. 
 
 Fig. 117 
 
io8 
 
 In summer, while hunting berries or wild flowers by 
 the stream that runs through the pasture, you have 
 noticed that certain plants seemed to be caught in a 
 tangle of golden threads. If you stopped to look at 
 this tangle, you found little clusters of white flowers 
 scattered along the thread-like stems (Fig. 118); then, 
 to your surprise, you discovered that nowhere was this 
 
 odd-looking stem fastened 
 to the ground. 
 
 It began and ended high 
 above the earth, among the 
 plants which crowded along 
 the brook's edge. 
 
 Perhaps you broke off 
 one of these plants about 
 which the golden threads 
 were twining. If so, you 
 found that these threads were fastened firmly to the 
 plant by means of little roots which grew into its stem, 
 just as ordinary roots grow into the earth. 
 This strange plant is called the " dodder^' When it 
 was still a baby plant, it lay within its seed upon the 
 ground, just like other baby plants ; and when it burst 
 its seed shell, like other plants it sent its roots down 
 into the earth. 
 
 But unlike any other plant I know of, it did not send 
 up into the air any seed leaves. The dodder never 
 bears a leaf. 
 
 It sent upward a slender golden stem. Soon the 
 stem began to sweep slowly through the air in circles, 
 as if searching for something. Its movements were 
 
109 
 
 like those of a blind man who is feeling with his hands 
 for support. And this is just what the plant was doing: 
 it was feeling for support. And it kept up its slow 
 motion till it found the plant which was fitted to give 
 it what it needed. 
 
 Having made this discovery, it put out a little root. 
 This root it sent into the juicy stem of its new-found 
 support. And thereafter, from its private store, the 
 unfortunate plant which had been chosen as the dod- 
 der's victim was obliged to give food and drink to its 
 greedy visitor. 
 
 And now what does this dodder do, do you suppose ? 
 Perhaps you think that at least it has the grace to do 
 a little something for a living, and that it makes its 
 earth root supply it with part of its food. 
 
 Nothing of the sort. Once it finds itself firmly rooted 
 in the stem of its victim, it begins to grow vigorously. 
 With every few inches of its growth it sends new roots 
 deep into this stem. And when it feels quite at home, 
 and perfectly sure of its board, it begins to wither away 
 below, where it is joined to its earth root. Soon it 
 breaks off entirely from this, and draws every bit of 
 its nourishment from the plant or plants in which it 
 is rooted. 
 
 Now stop a moment and think of the almost wicked 
 intelligence this plant has seemed to show, — how it 
 keeps its hold of the earth till its stem has found the 
 plant which will be compelled to feed it, and how it 
 gives up all pretense of self-support, once it has cap- 
 tured its prey. 
 
 You have heard of men and women who do this sort 
 
no 
 
 of thing, — who shirk all trouble, and try to live on the 
 work of others ; and I fear you know some boys and 
 girls who are not altogether unlike the dodder, — boys 
 and girls who never take any pains if they can possibly 
 help it, who try to have all of the fun and none of the 
 work ; but did you ever suppose you would come across 
 a plant that would conduct itself in such a fashion ? 
 
 Of course, when the dodder 
 happens to fasten itself upon 
 some wild plant, little harm is 
 done. But unfortunately it is 
 very partial to plants that are 
 useful to men, and then we 
 must look upon it as an enemy. 
 Linen is made from the flax 
 plant, and this flax plant is one 
 of the favorite victims of the 
 dodder. Sometimes it will at- 
 tack and starve to death whole 
 fields of flax. 
 
 But do not let us forget that 
 we happen to be talking about 
 the dodder because it is one of 
 the plants which put out roots above ground. 
 
 There is one plant which many of you have seen, that 
 never, at any time of its life, is rooted in the earth, but 
 which feeds always upon the branches of the trees in 
 which it lives. 
 
 This plant (Fig. 119) is one of which perhaps you 
 hear and see a good deal at Christmas time. It is an 
 old English custom, at this season, to hang somewhere 
 
I II 
 
 about the house a mistletoe bough (for the mistletoe is 
 the plant I mean) with the understanding that one is 
 free to steal a kiss from any maiden caught beneath it. 
 And as mistletoe boughs are sold on our street corners 
 and in our shops at Christmas, there has been no diffi- 
 culty in bringing one to school to-day. 
 
 The greenish mistletoe berries are eaten by birds. 
 Often their seeds are dropped by these birds upon the 
 branches of trees. There they hold fast by means of 
 the sticky material with which they are covered. Soon 
 they send out roots which pierce the bark, and, like the 
 roots of the dodder, suck up the juices of the tree, and 
 supply the plant with nourishment. 
 
 Then there are water roots as well as earth roots. 
 Some of these water roots are put forth by plants which 
 are nowhere attached to the earth. These are plants 
 which you would not be likely to know about. One of 
 them, the duckweed, is very common in ponds ; but it 
 is so tiny that when you have seen a quantity of these 
 duckweeds, perhaps you have never supposed them to 
 be true plants, but rather a green scum floating on the 
 top of the water. 
 
 But the duckweed is truly a plant. It has both 
 flower and fruit, although without a distinct stem and 
 leaves ; and it sends down into the water its long, hang- 
 ing roots, which yet do not reach the ground. 
 
 There are other plants which have at the same time 
 underground roots and water roots. 
 
 Rooted in the earth on the borders of a stream some- 
 times you see a willow tree which has put out above- 
 ground roots. These hang over the bank and float in 
 
I 12 
 
 the water, apparently with great enjoyment; for roots 
 not only seem to seek the water, but to like it, and to 
 flourish in it. 
 
 If you break off at the ground one of your bean 
 plants, and place the slip in a glass of water, you will 
 see for yourselves how readily it sends out new roots. 
 
 I have read of a village tree the roots of which had 
 made their way into a water pipe. Here they grew 
 so abundantly that soon the pipe was entirely choked. 
 This rapid, luxuriant growth was supposed to have been 
 caused by the water within the pipe. 
 
 So you see there are underground roots and above- 
 ground roots and water roots. Usually, as you know, 
 the underground roots get their food from the earth ; 
 but sometimes, as with the Indian pipe, they feed on 
 dead plants, and sometimes, as with the yellow false 
 foxglove, on other living roots. 
 
 3>^< 
 
 WHAT FEW CHILDREN KNOW 
 
 TO-DAY we must take another look at the plants 
 in the schoolroom garden. 
 By this time some of them have grown quite tall. 
 Others are just appearing above the earth. 
 
 Here is a young morning-glory (Fig. 120). We see 
 that its stem, like that of the bean, was the first thing 
 to come out of the seed. This stem has turned down- 
 ward into the earth. From its lower end grows the 
 root, which buries itself deeper and deeper. 
 
H3 
 
 An older plant shows us that the upper part of the 
 stem straightens itself out and grows upward, bear- 
 ing with it a pair of leaves (Fig. 121). 
 
 From between these starts a tiny bud, that soon 
 unfolds into a fresh leaf, which is carried upward by 
 a new piece of stem. 
 
 On the tip of this new piece of stem grows 
 another bud, which also enlarges into a leaf, and in 
 the same way as before is borne upward (Fig. 122). 
 
 In this fashion the plant keeps growing big- 
 ger and bigger. Soon branches start from the 
 sides of the stem, and later flowers and fruits. 
 So we see that it is the stem which bears all 
 the other parts of the plant. 
 
 Most people think that the plant springs 
 
 from the root ; but you children know better. 
 
 With your own eyes, here in the schoolroom, 
 
 you have seen that instead of the stem growing 
 
 from the root, the root grows from the stem. 
 
 That more people have not found this out, 
 
 is because they do not use their eyes rightly. 
 
 Every spring hundreds and thousands of 
 
 baby plants make their way out of the seed 
 
 shell into the world, just as you saw the baby 
 
 bean plant do, sending out first its little stem. 
 
 which pointed downward into the earth and FlG - I2 
 
 started a root. And every spring there are hundreds 
 
 of thousands of men and women, and boys and girls, 
 
 who go through the woods and fields, and across the' 
 
 parks and along the streets, as though they were blind, 
 
 taking no notice of the wonders all about them. 
 
 Fig. 120 
 
 Fig. 121 
 
 ANA'S PLANTS. 
 
PLANTS THAT CANNOT 
 STAND ALONE 
 
 ALREADY we have learned that 
 some stems grow under ground, 
 and that by most people these are 
 called roots. 
 
 And among those which grow 
 above the ground we see many dif- 
 ferent kinds. 
 
 The stem of Indian corn grows 
 straight up in the air, and needs no 
 help in standing erect. 
 
 Fig. 123 shows you the morning- 
 glory plant, the stem of which is 
 unable to hold itself upright with- 
 out assistance. A great many 
 plants seem to need this same 
 sort of help ; and it is very in- 
 teresting to watch their behavior. 
 The stem of the young morning- 
 glory sweeps slowly through the air in 
 circles, in search of some support. 
 You remember that the curious dodder 
 acted in this same way, and that its movements 
 reminded us of the manner in which a blind 
 man feels about him 
 "4 
 
H5 
 
 Fig. 123 
 
 When the morning-glory finds just the support it 
 needs, it lays hold of it, and twists about it, and then 
 climbs upward with great satisfaction. 
 
 I want you to watch this curious performance. It 
 is sure to amuse you. The plant 
 seems to know so well what it is 
 about, and it acts so sensibly when 
 it finds what it wants. 
 
 But if it happens to meet a glass 
 tube, or something too smooth to give 
 it the help it needs, it slips off it, and 
 seems almost as discouraged as a boy 
 would be who fails in his attempt to 
 climb a slippery tree or telegraph pole. 
 The bean is another plant whose 
 stem is not strong enough to hold it erect without help. 
 But, unlike the morning-glory, the stem of 
 the bean does not twist about the first 
 stick it finds. Instead it sends out many 
 shorter stems which do this work of reach- 
 ing after and twining about some support. 
 In this same w T ay the pea is able to hold 
 up its head in the world. 
 
 Other plants are supported by their leaf- 
 stalks. These twist about whatever sticks 
 or branches they can find, and so prevent 
 the plant from falling. The picture (Fig. 
 124) shows you how the garden nightshade climbs by 
 its leafstalk. The beautiful clematis clambers all over 
 the roadside thicket in the same way. 
 
 The English ivy and the poison ivy, as we have 
 
 Fig. 124 
 
n6 
 
 learned already, climb by the help of roots which their 
 stems send out into the trunks of trees and the crevices 
 of buildings. 
 
 The stems of the Virginia creeper and of the Japa- 
 nese ivy give birth to smaller stems, such as you see in 
 the picture below. When the tips of these reach the wall, 
 or the tree trunk up which the plant is trying to climb, 
 they broaden out into little flat, round plates, which, 
 like tiny claws, cling to the surface (Fig. 125). 
 
 I hope your teacher will tell you where you can find 
 one of these two plants, for in the country 
 the creeper is plentiful, and the Japanese ivy 
 is planted freely in our cities; and I hope 
 you will go and see how firmly these little 
 flattened stems cling to the wall or to the 
 tree trunk. Try gently to pull off one of 
 these determined little stems, and I think 
 you will admire it for its firm grip. 
 
 There are other than climbing plants 
 whose stems are not strong enough to stand 
 up straight without help. 
 
 Think of the beautiful water lily. If you have ever 
 spent a morning in a boat (as I hope you have, for it is 
 a delightful way to spend a morning) hunting water 
 lilies, you will remember that these flowers float on top 
 of the water ; and when you reach over to pick them, 
 you find the tall flower stems standing quite erect in 
 the water. 
 
 But what happened when you broke them off, and 
 held them in your hand ? 
 
 Why, these long stems proved to have no strength at 
 
H7 
 
 all. They flopped over quite as helplessly as the 
 morning-glory vine would do if you unwound it from the 
 wires up which it was climbing ; and you saw that they 
 had only been able to stand up straight because of the 
 help the water had given them. 
 
 SOME HABITS OF STEMS 
 
 BESIDE the stems which stand erect without help 
 (like that of the corn), and those which climb by 
 means of some support (like those of the morning-glory 
 and bean), and those which are held up by the water 
 (like that of the water lily), there are stems which slant 
 upward (like that of the red clover), stems which lie 
 upon the ground (like that of the snowberry), and stems 
 which creep (that is, which run along the ground), and 
 which strike root, and so give rise to new plants (like 
 those of the white clover and strawberry). 
 
 With the new plants you meet, try always to notice to 
 which of these different classes their stems belong ; for 
 later, when you wish to use the botany and to learn the 
 names of the plants, this habit of noticing things will 
 help you greatly. 
 
 Then, too, with every new plant, you should find out 
 whether its stem is round or square, and whether it is 
 smooth or hairy, or if it is at all thorny. 
 
 The thorns and hairs which some plants scatter over 
 their stems protect them from animals and insects, 
 which might otherwise do them an injury. 
 
 By the thorns little snails are prevented from climb- 
 
n8 
 
 ing up the stems and eating away the green leaves 
 above ; and the cows and horses are pretty sure to leave 
 the thorny plants well alone. It is easy to understand 
 why we find thistle plants growing thickly in the pas- 
 ture, which is nearly bare of everything else. Long ago 
 these thistles clothed themselves in an armor of prickles, 
 and ever since they have been successful in waging war 
 against the cattle. 
 
 Sometimes a tree will cover its lower part only with 
 thorns. Why is this, do you suppose ? 
 
 This is because only the lower branches are within 
 reach of the cattle. Only these have any need of a suit 
 of thorns. The wild pear, which grows in Europe, is 
 such a tree as this. 
 
 A stem that is covered with hairs, and also one that 
 is sticky in spots, serves to protect its flowers from an 
 attack by ants, or by other insects that might do them 
 harm ; for these flowers, you remember, hold the golden 
 dust which works such wonders when carried to another 
 flower. And you recall, that, when bees go to plants for 
 the sweet stuff from which honey is made, they carry 
 this flower dust from blossom to blossom. But if the 
 sweet stuff is given up to greedy insects, then this good 
 work is not done ; for the bees get disgusted, and stop 
 visiting the plants which do not take more pains to 
 please them. And so oftentimes the plant covers its 
 stem with hairs or with sticky drops, so that the med- 
 dlesome little thieves cannot get up to the blossom at all. 
 
 So if you pick a flower which leaves your fingers 
 sticky, you must remember that the plant is only doing 
 its duty in trying to please the bees. 
 
ii 9 
 
 Although I have seen these plants do so many queer 
 things that I am learning not to be surprised at their 
 clever ways, I must own that I was a little astonished 
 to see how anxious one of them was to save itself un- 
 necessary trouble. 
 
 There is a plant called the ''amphibious knotweed." 
 This is a rather difficult name, I know. This word 
 "amphibious" is applied to something that can live 
 both in water and on land ; and this plant grows some- 
 times in the pond or river, and sometimes on the shore. 
 
 When on land, its stem is covered with the hairs 
 which serve to keep meddlesome insects from climbing 
 up to its pretty balls of pink flowers. In the water 
 there is no danger of any such attack from insects ; and 
 so when it happens to grow in the pond or river, this 
 knowing little plant does not trouble itself to clothe 
 with hairs its stem, but leaves this quite smooth. 
 
 Next summer I hope you will hunt up the amphibious 
 knotweed, and will compare the smooth water stem with 
 the hairy one that grows on land. 
 
 **;< 
 
 STEMS AND SEED LEAVES 
 
 THE smaller plants usually have green stems. The 
 larger ones have brown, woody stems, such as you 
 see in bushes and trees ; for the trunk of the biggest 
 tree in the world is nothing but a great stem. 
 
 The delicate green stems die down to the ground 
 during the cold winter. Sometimes the whole plant 
 
120 
 
 Fig. 126 
 
 dies, the root below as well as the stem above ground. 
 But often the root (or what we usually call the root) 
 lives, and sends up a fresh stem the next year. 
 
 But the woody stems live through the winter, and 
 put out fresh leaves and branches the next spring. 
 
 Without a magnifying glass, it is difficult to see of 
 just what the green stems of the small plants are made 
 up ; and these you can pass by for the present. But 
 if your teacher will cut across the stem of a large rose, 
 you can see here an outer covering, the green skin; 
 within this, a ring of woody material ; and in 
 the center of the stem, a soft white stuff called 
 "pith." 
 
 When we were reading about seed leaves, I 
 told you that by the stem and leaves of a plant 
 you could tell whether it brought into the world 
 more than one seed leaf. 
 
 Now, when a stem like that of the rose is 
 divided into three well-defined parts, — the skin, 
 or bark, outside ; next the woody part ; and the 
 soft white pith in the middle, — then you can be 
 pretty sure that the plant had more than one seed leaf. 
 This picture (Fig. 126) shows you a section of a corn- 
 stalk. Here you do not see the three parts that were 
 so plain in the rose stem, for the woody part is not 
 gathered together in a ring: it is scattered through the 
 soft part, so that you cannot distinguish the one from 
 the other. 
 
 Running lengthwise you see the scattered bundles of 
 woody threads, the cut ends of which give the dotted 
 look on top. 
 
I2T 
 
 Now, such a stem as this of the corn shows you that 
 the plant was born with only one seed leaf. 
 
 Try to remember the difference between these two 
 stems. 
 
 This next picture (Fig. 127) shows 
 a part of the trunk or stem of the fir 
 tree. 
 
 The dark outside circle is the bark. 
 The rings within this are the wood. 
 Each year one of these woody rings is 
 added to the tree, the last ring of all 
 lying next to the bark ; so, if you count 
 these, you can find out how many years the tree has lived. 
 In the center we see the soft stuff called pith. 
 What do these three divisions show ? 
 The trunk of the palm in the next picture (Fig. 128) is 
 like the stem of the corn. The wood is not gathered in 
 rings, but is scattered through the soft part in thread-like 
 bundles, so that we cannot tell just the age of the tree. 
 And what else do you know about the palm ? 
 
 Why, you know that it came into 
 the world with but one seed leaf. If 
 it had had more than one, its stems 
 would have had woody rings such as 
 we see in the fir. 
 
 In the schoolroom you cannot see 
 palms and firs ; but you can find a log 
 in a wood pile which will show you 
 just such woody rings as prove that the fir tree had 
 more than one seed leaf. 
 
 And you can look at a stalk brought from the corn- 
 
 Fig. 128 
 
122 
 
 field that will show you how the trunk of the palm tells 
 us that this tree began life with only one seed leaf. 
 
 3XKC 
 
 "WELL DONE, LITTLE STEM" 
 
 IT is wonderful how much there is to learn about 
 everything. 
 
 We began this book with an apple, and I had no 
 more idea than you that that apple was going to keep 
 us busy for days. 
 
 And then the apple reminded us of its cousins, the 
 pear and plum and peach and cherry and rose. And 
 if we had not stopped short, we should have been intro- 
 duced to so many more cousins that we should have 
 had neither room nor time for anything else. 
 
 From fruits we went to seeds. 
 
 At first it seemed almost as though we ought to 
 finish up the seeds in two or three readings ; but this 
 did not prove to be the case. 
 
 The mere naming of the different ways in which 
 seeds went traveling, covered so many pages that it 
 was all we could do to find time to tell how a few of 
 the baby plants were cared for, and how they made 
 their way out of the seed shell into the world. 
 
 But when we came to roots, we felt there would be 
 no temptation to loiter by the way, for roots seemed 
 rather dismal things to talk about. Yet it took some 
 little time to show the different uses of a root, and to 
 talk about air roots and water roots, as well as earth 
 
123 
 
 roots. It was not altogether easy to make clear just 
 how the little root hairs keep acids on hand in which 
 to melt the solid earth food which their throats are too 
 delicate to swallow. And it was quite a long story 
 when we came to the dodder, which roots in the stems 
 of living plants, and steals all its food from them ; 
 and to those orchids whose long roots swing from tree 
 branches and draw their nourishment from the air. 
 
 About stems, however, even I felt a little discouraged ; 
 for though it is from the stem that all other parts of 
 a plant grow, yet it is not looked upon generally as 
 an interesting object w r hen studied by itself ; and I dare 
 say you children still feel that stems are less amusing 
 than fruits, or seeds, or roots. 
 
 Still we can hardly help admiring the way in which a 
 stem, when it lies underground, like that of the lily or 
 the Jack-in-the-pulpit, makes its food so carefully all 
 through the summer, and waits so patiently through the 
 long winter in order to help its plant to burst into flower, 
 and to ripen into fruit as soon as possible, and without 
 more labor and food hunting when the spring comes. 
 
 When a stem, like that of the morning-glory, sweeps 
 slowly and carefully through the air in search of some- 
 thing to lay hold of in its efforts to climb upward, and 
 when, on finding this support, it makes such good use 
 of it, we feel inclined to say, "Well done, little stem." 
 
 And when a stem on land knows how to keep off 
 meddlers, yet has the wisdom not to take unnecessary 
 trouble when afloat, like that of the amphibious knot- 
 weed, then we feel that a plant gives its stem, as well 
 as its other parts, a large supply of common sense. 
 
124 
 
 There is a great deal more that might be said on this 
 subject. What a plant lives on, what it eats and drinks 
 and breathes, is very interesting to learn about. And 
 of course the food taken in by the roots must be carried 
 upward through the stem. But to write simply about 
 this is difficult. As much as I think most of you can 
 understand, I will tell you when we take up leaves. 
 
Part IV — Buds 
 
 3>*K< 
 
 BUDS IN WINTER 
 
 WHEN school opened in September, all the trees 
 were covered with leaves ; and some of these 
 trees were bent with their burden of pears and apples 
 and peaches, while others were hung with prickly chest- 
 nut burrs or with acorns or walnuts. 
 
 But now all is changed. The woods look gray and 
 bare ; for nearly all the leaves have fallen save those 
 ot the oak, which are still holding fast to the branches. 
 These oak leaves are brown and stiff and leathery. They 
 crackle and rustle when the wind blows through them. 
 
 In the city squares you see the same change, — bare 
 branches in place of green leaves. 
 
 At this season it is hardly worth while, perhaps you 
 think, to go to the woods or to the park ; for there is 
 nothing to be seen, — no leaves, no flowers, almost no 
 fruits. Better wait till spring for any such expedition. 
 
 Here you are wrong. Provided you know what to 
 look at, and how to look at it, there is no month of the 
 year when the woods and parks are not full of interest. 
 
 And so at this season, when the trees are bare of 
 leaves, better than at any other, certain things can be 
 studied. 
 
 125 
 
126 
 
 I have asked your teacher to bring to school to-day 
 branches from the different trees which are looking so 
 cold and lonely. It is nearly always possible to find 
 the horse-chestnut, the maple, or the cherry ; and we 
 will talk especially about these branches. 
 
 On your way to school, perhaps you pass every day a 
 horse-chestnut tree ; but its branches are so far above 
 vour heads that you may never have noticed that in 
 winter the leafless twigs bear just such buds as you see 
 in the picture (Fig. 129), and on the branch which is 
 before you. 
 
 The largest bud grows on top. This is where the 
 beautiful flower cluster that comes out in May lies 
 hidden. 
 
 The smaller buds that grow lower down the stem 
 hold only leaves. You see that these buds grow in 
 pairs, one bud opposite another, and always above a 
 sort of scar on the twig. This scar was made last 
 fall by the breaking-off of a leaf. 
 
 Perhaps you fancy that these buds have only just 
 made their appearance. 
 
 If you have any such idea as that, you are quite 
 wrong. Last summer, when the leaves were large and 
 fresh, the little buds, that were not to unfold for nearly 
 a year, began to form, growing somewhat larger as the 
 weeks went by, and folding themselves tightly in the 
 brown, leathery wrappings that were to keep them safe 
 from the cold of winter. 
 
 I should like you to pill off these wrappings, and 
 see how well the horse-chei-tnut tree defends from cold 
 its baby leaves. 
 
127 
 
 First you find about seven of these outside wrappings. 
 The very outer ones are thick and brown, and covered 
 with the sticky stuff that makes them proof against 
 rain. 
 
 The next ones are brown and thick where their tips 
 are exposed to the air, while the inner ones are green 
 and delicate. But altogether they make a warm, snug 
 covering for young leaves and flowers. 
 
 As for the baby leaves themselves, they are all done 
 up in a furry stuff that keeps them from catching cold, 
 even if a gust of wind or a few drops of rain should 
 manage to make a way through the waterproof and 
 almost air-tight wrappings. 
 
 So you see that the leaves and branches and young 
 flowers of a plant or tree are looked after just as care- 
 fully as is the seed within the seed case, or the baby 
 plant in its seed shell. 
 
 D^C 
 
 A HAPPY SURPRISE 
 
 HERE you see a branch from the red maple (Fig. 
 130). 
 
 On the flowering shoots three buds grow side by side. 
 The middle, smaller one holds the leaves. These leaves 
 do not appear until the two outer, larger buds have 
 burst into flower clusters ; for the flowers of the red 
 maple appear before its leaves. 
 
 I want you to bring to school as many different kinds 
 of branches as you can find, and I hope you will examine Fig 
 
128 
 
 them all very carefully. Notice the position of their 
 buds, and whether these grow close together or are scat- 
 tered far apart, and whether one bud grows just oppo- 
 site another ; and look for the marks left by the leaves 
 which broke off last fall. 
 
 When the buds are large enough, you will find it 
 interesting to pull them apart (but you must do this 
 with great care) and see how beautifully wrapped are 
 the baby leaves and flowers. 
 
 I chose the branch of the horse-chestnut for special 
 examination, because its large buds show their contents 
 plainly. 
 
 When a bud grows on the tip of a stem, its work is to 
 carry on that stem ; but when it grows just above a 
 leaf scar, you can be sure that it is a young branch. 
 Such a branch may bear either leaves or flowers, or 
 both. 
 
 But buds do not all grow up at the same time, or 
 necessarily at all. 
 
 The strongest ones are the first to open. The others 
 may keep quiet for some time, not unfolding, perhaps, 
 unless some of the earlier ones are killed. In this case, 
 the waiting buds try to fill the gap, and carry on the 
 good work of clothing the tree with leaves and flowers. 
 
 Sometimes they wait over till another year, and occa- 
 sionally a bud never opens at all. 
 
 You all enjoyed planting seeds, and watching them 
 grow under your very eyes. 
 
 Now I am going to propose to you a scheme which 
 has given me quite as much pleasure as my pot gar- 
 dens. 
 
129 
 
 When the buds on the winter branches have swelled 
 the least little bit, after a few warm days in February 
 perhaps, go to the woods and cut several branches 
 in places where no one will miss them, and take them 
 home and put them in warm water, in a warm, bright 
 corner, and see what happens. 
 
 It will be a real joy to you, watching these little buds 
 get bigger and bigger, till the outer wrappings are 
 forced apart, and either thrown well aside, or pushed 
 off altogether ; and you will be filled with delight when 
 the delicate baby leaves begin to stretch themselves, or, 
 better still, when the pure, beautiful flowers burst from 
 the brown, dead-looking twigs. 
 
 Get branches of cherry, apple, peach, and pear ; and 
 bring in the pussy willow, the maple, the ForsytJiia, the 
 spicebush, and, if you can find it, the mountain laurel ; 
 and if you do not pass many moments of almost breath- 
 less pleasure watching the wonders these budding- 
 branches are so eager to reveal, you are not the chil- 
 dren I take you to be. 
 
 >**< 
 
 SOME ASTONISHING BUDS 
 
 THERE are some plants which do not put any 
 winter wraps on their delicate buds ; and, strangely 
 enough, these buds do not seem to suffer for lack of 
 clothing. 
 
 In a warm country this would not surprise us. If we 
 were going to spend the winter in the West Indies, we 
 dana's plants. — q 
 
130 
 
 should not carry our furs with us, for we should not 
 meet any weather cold enough to make them necessary ; 
 and so perhaps in the West Indies the buds have no 
 more need of winter clothing than we ourselves. 
 
 But if we were to spend the Christmas holidays some- 
 where in our Northern mountains, if we were going for 
 skating and coasting to the Catskills or the Adiron- 
 dacks, we should not fail to take with us our warmest 
 clothes. 
 
 And yet, if we walked in the Adirondack woods, we 
 should meet over and over again a shrub bearing naked 
 buds, their folded, delicate leaves quite exposed to the 
 bitter cold. 
 
 This shrub is the hobblebush, the pretty flowers of 
 which you see on p. 246. 
 
 I do not understand any better than you why this 
 hobblebush does not tuck away its baby leaves beneath 
 a warm covering. Neither do I understand how these 
 naked leaves can live through the long, cold winter. I 
 should like very much to satisfy myself as to the reason 
 for this, for they do live and nourish ; and I wish that 
 such of you children as know the home of the hobble- 
 bush (and it is common in many places) would watch 
 this shrub through the winter, and see if you can dis- 
 cover how it can afford to take less care of its buds than 
 other plants. 
 
 There is one tree which seems to shield its buds more 
 carefully in summer than in winter. This tree is the 
 buttonwood. It grows not only in the country, but in 
 many of our city streets and squares. You know it by 
 the way in which its bark peels in long strips from its 
 
3i 
 
 trunk and branches, and by the button-like balls which 
 hang from the leafless twigs all winter. 
 
 If you examine one of these twigs, now that they are 
 bare of leaves, you see the buds quite plainly ; but if it 
 is summer time, when the leaves are clinging to the 
 branch, you see no buds, and suppose that they are not 
 yet formed. 
 
 But here you are wrong. 
 
 " How can that be ? " you ask. You looked care- 
 fully, and nowhere was there any sign of a bud. 
 
 But you did not look everywhere, after all. 
 
 If very carefully you had pulled off one of the leaves, 
 you would have found the young bud tucked safely 
 away beneath the hollow 
 end of the leafstalk. This 
 leafstalk fitted over it 
 more neatly than a can- 
 dle snuffer over a candle 
 
 (Fig. 130- 
 
 Try this for yourselves 
 next summer. I think you 
 will be pleased with this 
 pretty arrangement. 
 
 We learned that the 
 potato, even though it is buried in the earth and does 
 not look like it, is really one of the thickened stems 
 of the potato plant. 
 
 The "eyes" of the potato look as little like buds as 
 the potato itself looks like a stem. Yet these "eyes" 
 are true buds ; for, if we leave our potatoes in the dark 
 cellar till spring, the "eyes" will send out slender 
 
 Fig. 131 
 
132 
 
 shoots in the same way that the bads on the branches 
 of trees send out young shoots. 
 
 As I told you before, the usual place for a bud is 
 just between the stem and the leafstalk, or the scar left 
 by the leafstalk ; but if a stem is cut or wounded, often- 
 times it sends out buds in other than the usual places. 
 
 This habit accounts for the growth of young shoots 
 from stumps of trees, and from parts of the plant 
 which ordinarily do not give birth to buds. 
 
 Some buds never open while fastened to the stem of 
 the parent plant ; but after a time they fall to the 
 ground, strike root, and send up a 
 fresh young plant. 
 
 The tiger lily, the plant that grows 
 so often in old gardens, bears such 
 buds as these. We call them "bulblets" 
 when they act in this strange fashion. 
 Perhaps even more surprising than 
 this is the fact that leaves sometimes 
 produce buds. 
 In certain warmer countries grows a plant called the 
 Bryophyllum. If you look carefully at the thick, fleshy 
 leaves of this plant, along its notched edges you will 
 see certain little dark spots ; and if you cut off one of 
 these leaves and pin it on your window curtain, what do 
 you suppose will happen ? 
 
 Well, right under your eyes will happen one of the 
 strangest things I have ever seen. 
 
 From the row of dark spots along the leaf's edge, 
 springs a row of tiny, perfect plants (Fig. 132). 
 
 And when these tiny plants are fairly started, if you 
 
 Fig. 132 
 
133 
 
 lay the leaf on moist earth, they will send their roots 
 into the ground, break away from the fading leaf, and 
 form a whole colony of new plants. 
 
 Now, those dark spots along the leaf's edge were tiny 
 buds ; and the thick leaf was so full of rich food, that 
 when it was broken off from the parent plant, and all 
 of this food was forced into the buds, these were strong 
 enough to send out roots and leaves, and to set up in 
 life for themselves. 
 
 It will not be difficult for your teacher to secure some 
 of these leaves of the Bryophyllum, and to show you 
 in the schoolroom this strange performance. 
 
 All children enjoy wonderful tricks, and I know of 
 nothing much prettier or more astonishing than this 
 trick of the Bryophyllum. 
 
Part V — Leaves 
 
 :•**< 
 
 HOW TO LOOK AT A LEAF 
 
 TO-DAY we begin to learn what we can about 
 the leaves of plants. I hope that enough fresh 
 green leaves have been brought to school to allow 
 every child here to have one on the desk before him, 
 so that he may see, as far as is possible, just what 
 is being talked about. 
 
 This picture (Fig. 133) shows you the leaf of the 
 quince. Now, suppose you held in your hand a leaf 
 fresh from the quince tree, and were 
 asked to describe it to a blind person, 
 how would you tell about it ? 
 
 You would begin, I fancy, by saying, 
 "This leaf is green," for the color of 
 an object is one of the things we notice 
 first. 
 
 Next perhaps you would describe its 
 shape. "This quince leaf is rounded, 
 yet it is too long to be called a round 
 leaf." So you would use the word 
 "oblong." 
 
 Like most leaves, then, it is green ; 
 other leaves, it is oblong. 
 
 Fig. 133 
 and like some 
 
 *35 
 
136 
 
 Now look at this picture (Fig. 134) of the maple leaf. 
 This, you see, is not oblong, but three-pointed. 
 
 What other differences do you notice between these 
 two leaves ? 
 
 You do not seem quite sure as to whether there are 
 
 any other differences. But do you not notice that the 
 
 edge of the maple leaf is cut into little teeth, like the 
 
 edge of a saw, while the edge of 
 
 the quince leaf is smooth ? 
 
 And let me tell you here, that 
 when I speak of a leaf, I speak 
 not only of the enlarged flat 
 surface we call the " leaf blade," 
 but also of the "leafstalk." A leaf 
 usually consists of a leafstalk and 
 a leaf blade, though some leaves 
 are set so close to the stem that 
 they have no room for any stalks 
 of their own. 
 
 "Oh! then," you answer, "the 
 leafstalk of the maple is much 
 longer than that of the quince, and there are little bits 
 of leaves at the foot of the quince leafstalk which the 
 maple is without." 
 
 You have done very well, and have noticed just 
 those things which you should. 
 
 The shape of the leaf blade, whether the edge of this 
 is toothed, the length of the leafstalk, and whether this 
 has any little leaves at its foot where it joins the stem, 
 are things always worth noticing. 
 
 Now take your leaves and hold them up against the 
 
 Fig. 134 
 
137 
 
 light, or else look at the picture of the quince leaf, and 
 study carefully the make-up of the blade. 
 
 You see that this is divided lengthwise by a heavy 
 rib which juts out on the lower side. From this 
 "midrib," as it is called, run a great many smaller lines. 
 These are called "veins." And from these branch off 
 still smaller veins that bear the name of " veinlets." And 
 somewhat as the paper is stretched over the sticks of a 
 kite, so from the leaf's midrib to its edge, and from vein 
 to vein, is drawn the delicate green material which 
 makes up the greater part of the leaf. 
 
 What I wish you to learn this morning is, how to look 
 at a leaf. 
 
 Before using our brains rightly, we must know how 
 to use our eyes. If we see a thing as it really is, the 
 chances are that our thoughts about it will be fairly 
 correct. 
 
 But it is surprising how often our eyes see wrong. 
 
 If you doubt this, ask four or five of your playmates 
 to describe the same thing, — some street accident, or a 
 quarrel in the playground, which all have seen, or 
 something of the sort, — and then I think you will 
 understand what I mean by saying that few people see 
 correctly. 
 
138 
 
 THE MOST WONDERFUL THING IN THE 
 "WORLD 
 
 IT would be quite a simple matter to interest you chil- 
 dren in plants and their lives, if always it were 
 possible to talk only about the things which you can 
 see with your own unaided eyes. 
 
 I think a bright child sees better than many a grown 
 person, and I think that it is easier to interest him in 
 what he sees. 
 
 And then plants in themselves are so interesting 
 and surprising, that one must be stupid indeed if he 
 or she finds it impossible to take pleasure in watching 
 their ways. 
 
 But about these plants there are many things which 
 you cannot see without the help of a microscope, and 
 these things it is difficult to describe in simple words. 
 Yet it is necessary to learn about them if you wish 
 really to feel at home in this beautiful world of plants. 
 
 After all, whatever is worth having is worth taking 
 some trouble for; and nothing worth having can be had 
 without trouble. So I hope when you children come 
 to parts of this book that seem at first a little dull, you 
 will say to yourselves, " Well, if we wish really to know 
 plants, to be able to tell their names, to understand 
 their habits, we must try to be a little patient when we 
 come to the things that are difficult." 
 
 For even in your games you boys have to use some 
 patience ; and you are quite willing to run the risk of 
 being hurt for the sake of a little fun. 
 
139 
 
 And you girls will take no end of trouble if you 
 happen to be sewing for your dolls, or playing at 
 cooking over the kitchen stove, or doing something to 
 which you give the name " play " instead of " work." 
 
 I only ask for just as much patience in your study 
 of plants ; and I think I can safely promise you that 
 plants will prove delightful playthings long after you 
 have put aside the games which please you now. 
 
 So we must begin to talk about some of the things 
 which you are not likely to see now with your own 
 eyes, but which, when possible, I will show you by 
 means of pictures, and which, when you are older, some 
 of you may see with the help of a microscope. 
 
 Every living thing is made up of one or more little 
 objects called " cells." 
 
 Usually a cell may be likened to a tiny bag which 
 holds a bit of that material which is the most wonderful 
 thing in the whole world, for this is the material which 
 has life. 
 
 Occasionally a cell is nothing but a naked bit of this 
 wonderful substance, for it is not always held in a 
 tiny bag. 
 
 This picture (Fig. 135) shows you a naked plant cell, 
 much magnified, that swims about in 
 the water by means of the two long 
 hairs which grow from one end of the 
 speck of life-giving material. 
 
 The next picture (Fig. 136) shows 
 you a seed cut across, and so magnified 
 that you can see plainly its many cells. 
 
 In the middle portion of the seed the cells are six- 
 
140 
 
 sided, and laid against one another in an orderly and 
 beautiful fashion, while the outer ones are mostly round. 
 All animals, we ourselves, all plants, began life as a 
 single cell. 
 
 Sometimes a cell will spend its life alone. When the 
 time comes for it to add to the life of the world, it 
 divides into two or more "daughter cells," as they are 
 called. These break away from one 
 another, and in like manner divide 
 again. 
 
 But usually the single cell which 
 marks the beginning of a new life 
 adds to itself other cells; that is, the 
 different cells do not break away 
 from one another, but all cling to- 
 gether, and so build up the perfect 
 plant or animal. 
 
 By just such additions the great- 
 est tree in the forest grew from a 
 single tiny cell. 
 By just such additions you children have grown to 
 be what you are, and in the same way you will con- 
 tinue to grow. 
 
 Every living thing must eat and breathe, and so all 
 living cells must have food and air. These they take 
 in through their delicate cell walls. The power to do 
 this comes from the bit of living substance which lies 
 within these walls. 
 
 This strange, wonderful material within the little cell 
 is what is alive in every man and woman, in every boy 
 and girl, in every living thing, whether plant or animal. 
 
 
 Fig. 136 
 
141 
 
 We know this much about it. and not the wisest man 
 that ever lived knows much more. 
 
 For though the wise men know just what things go 
 to make up this material, and though they themselves 
 can put together these same things, they can no more 
 make life, or understand the making of it, than can 
 you or I. 
 
 But when we get a good hold of the idea that this 
 material is contained in all living things, then we begin 
 to feel this ; we begin to feel that men and women, 
 boys and girls, big animals and little insects, trees and 
 flowers, wayside weeds and grasses, the ferns and rushes 
 of the forest, the gray lichens of the cliffs and fences, 
 the seaweeds that sway in the green rock pools, and 
 living things so tiny that our eyes must fail to see 
 them, — that all these are bound into one by the tie of 
 that strange and wonderful thing called life; that they 
 are all different expressions of one mysterious, magnifi- 
 cent idea. 
 
 While writing that last sentence, I almost forgot that 
 I was writing for boys and girls, or indeed for any one 
 but myself; and I am afraid that perhaps you have 
 very little idea of what I am talking about. 
 
 But I will not cross it out. Why not, do you suppose ? 
 
 Because I feel almost sure that here and there among 
 you is a girl or boy who will get just a little glimmering 
 idea of what I mean ; and perhaps as the years go by, 
 that glimmer will change into a light so bright and clear 
 as to become a help in dark places. 
 
 But the thought that I hope each one of you will carry 
 home is this, — that because this strange something 
 
142 
 
 found in your body is also found in every other living 
 thing, you may learn to feel that you are in a way 
 a sister or brother, not only to all other boys and girls, 
 but to all the animals and to every plant about you. 
 
 3XXC 
 
 HOW A PLANT IS BUILT 
 
 NOW we know that the plant, like yourself, began 
 life as a single cell ; and we know that the perfect 
 plant was built up by the power which this cell had of 
 giving birth to other cells with like power. 
 
 Suppose that a brick were laid upon the earth as the 
 foundation of a wall ; and suppose that this brick were 
 able to change into two bricks. Suppose that the new 
 brick were able to form another brick in the same man- 
 ner, and that this power should pass from brick to 
 brick ; and suppose that all these bricks were able to 
 arrange themselves one upon another in an orderly 
 fashion, so that they could not easily be moved from 
 their places. 
 
 Now, if you can see this brick wall growing up, you 
 can see something of how the cells of a plant grow 
 up and arrange themselves. 
 
 But though it is fairly easy to see how the plant 
 cells form one from another, that does not explain how 
 they come to make a plant, with its many different 
 parts, with its root and stem, its branches, leaves, and 
 flowers. 
 
 One thing can divide and make two things of the 
 
H3 
 
 same sort; but it is not easy to see how it can make 
 things that are quite different from itself. 
 
 Now, if this difficulty as to the building-up of plants 
 and animals has come into your minds, you are only 
 puzzled by what has puzzled hundreds of people before 
 you; and all these hundreds of people have found the 
 puzzle quite as impossible to solve as the king's horses 
 and the king's men found it impossible to put Humpty 
 Dumpty together again. 
 
 A good many questions that we cannot answer come 
 into our minds; but if we look honestly for the answers 
 and do not find them, then we can be pretty sure that 
 for the present it is safe to leave them unanswered. 
 
 As cell is added to cell in the building-up of plant life, 
 some wonderful power forces each new cell to do the 
 special work which is most needed by the growing plant. 
 
 Sometimes this new cell is needed to help do the 
 work of a root, and so it begins to do this work, and be- 
 comes part of the root ; or else it is needed to do stem 
 work, and goes to make up the stem, or leaf work, and 
 is turned over into the leaf. 
 
 A healthy cell is born with the power to do whatever 
 is most needed. 
 
 HOW A PLANT'S FOOD IS COOKED 
 
 SOME time ago we learned that the little root hairs, 
 by means of their acid, are able to make a sort 
 of broth from the earthy materials which they could 
 not swallow in a solid state. 
 
144 
 
 But before this broth is really quite fit for plant 
 food, it needs even more preparation. 
 
 Why do we eat and drink, do you suppose ? 
 
 " Because we are hungry." That is the direct rea- 
 son, of course. But we are made hungry so that we 
 shall be forced to eat ; for when we eat, we take into 
 our bodies the material that is needed to build them 
 up, — to feed the cells which make the flesh and bone 
 and muscle. 
 
 And this is just why the plant eats and drinks. It 
 needs constantly fresh nourishment for its little cells, 
 so that these can live, and grow strong enough to 
 make the new cells which go to form, not bone and 
 flesh and muscle, as with you children, but fresh roots 
 and stem and leaves and flowers and fruits. 
 
 If these little cells were not fed, they would die, and 
 the plant would cease to live also. 
 
 And now what do you think happens to the broth 
 that has been taken in from the earth by the root 
 hairs ? 
 
 As we have said, this broth needs a little more prep- 
 aration before it is quite fit for plant food. What it 
 really wants is some cooking. 
 
 Perhaps you can guess that the great fire before 
 which all plant food is cooked is the sun. 
 
 But how are the hot rays of the sun to pierce the 
 earth, and reach the broth which is buried in the plant's 
 root ? 
 
 Of course, if it remains in the root, the earth broth 
 will not get the needed cooking. It must be carried 
 to some more get-at-able position. 
 
145 
 
 Now, what part of a plant is usually best fitted to 
 receive the sun's rays ? 
 
 Its leaves, to be sure. The thin, flat leaf blades are 
 spread out on all sides, so that they fairly bathe them- 
 selves in sunshine. 
 
 So if the broth is to be cooked in the sun, up to 
 the leaves it must be carried. 
 
 And how is this managed ? Water does not run 
 uphill, as you know. Yet this watery broth must 
 mount the stem before it can enter the leaves. 
 
 Water does not run uphill ordinarily, it is true ; yet, 
 if you dip a towel in a basin of water, the water rises 
 along the threads, and the towel is wet far above the 
 level of the basin. 
 
 And if you dip the lower end of a lump of sugar 
 in a cup of coffee, the coffee rises in the lump, and 
 stains it brown. 
 
 And the oil in the lamp mounts high into the wick. 
 
 Perhaps when you are older you will be able some- 
 what to understand the reason of this rise of liquid in 
 the towel, in the lump of sugar, in the lamp wick. The 
 same reason accounts partly for the rise of the broth 
 in the stem. But it is thought that the force which 
 sends the oil up the wick would not send the water 
 far up the stem. And you know that some stems are 
 very tall indeed. The distance, for example, to be 
 traveled by water or broth which is sucked in by the 
 roots of an oak tree, and which must reach the top- 
 most leaves of the oak, is very great. 
 
 Yet the earth broth seems to have no difficulty in 
 making this long, steep climb. 
 dana's plants. — 10 
 
146 
 
 Now, even wise men have to do some guessing 
 about this matter, and I fear you will find it a little 
 hard to understand. 
 
 But it is believed that the roots drink in the earth 
 broth so eagerly and so quickly, that before they know 
 it they are full to overflowing. It is easier, however, 
 to enter a root than it is to leave it by the same door ; 
 and the result is, that the broth is forced upward into 
 the stem by the pressure of more water or broth behind. 
 Of course, if the stem and branches and leaves 
 above are already full of liquid, unless they have some 
 way of disposing of the supply on hand, they cannot 
 take in any more ; and the roots below would then be 
 forced to stop drinking, for when a thing is already 
 quite full to overflowing, it cannot be made to hold 
 more. 
 
 But leaves have a habit of getting rid of what they do 
 not need. When the watery broth is cooked in the sun, 
 the heat of the sun's rays causes the water 
 to pass off through the little leaf mouths. 
 Thus the broth is made fit for plant food, 
 and at the same time room is provided for 
 fresh supplies from the root. 
 
 If you should examine the lower side of 
 a leaf through a microscope, you would 
 find hundreds and thousands of tiny 
 mouths, looking like the little mouths in this picture 
 
 (Fig- I37> 
 
 Some of the water from the earth broth is constantly 
 passing through these mouths out of the plant, into 
 the air. 
 
 Fig. j 37 
 
*47 
 A STEEP CLIMB 
 
 IT is all very well, you may think, to say that the 
 pressure from the root sends the water up through 
 the stem ; but when we cut across such a stem as a tree 
 trunk, one finds it full of wood, with a little tightly 
 packed soft stuff in the center, and not hollow like a 
 water pipe, as one would suppose from all that has been 
 said about the way the water rises in the stem. 
 
 No, a stem is not a hollow pipe, or even a bunch of 
 hollow pipes, it is true ; and it does seem something of 
 a question, how the water can force its way through all 
 this wood; and even if one hears how it is done, it is 
 not an easy thing to make clear either to grown people 
 or to children. But I will see what I can do; and I know 
 that you really love these plants and trees, and will try 
 to be a little patient with them and with me. 
 
 The water, or liquid, when it mounts a stem or tree 
 trunk, takes a path that leads through the new-made 
 cells. Each young cell wall is made of such delicate 
 material that it allows the water, or broth, to filter 
 through it, just as it would pass through a piece of thin 
 cloth. And so it makes its way from cell to cell, along 
 the stem, more slowly than if it were passing through a 
 hollow tube, but almost as surely. It is true, the earth 
 broth does not reach the leaves above without having 
 given up something to the little cells along the road. 
 These seem to lay hold of what they specially need 
 for their support, while the rest is allowed to pass on. 
 
 I want your teacher to prove to you by a little experi- 
 ment that water makes its way up a stem. 
 
148 
 
 If she will place in colored water the stem of a large 
 white tulip, cutting off its lower end under the liquid, 
 those parts whose little cells are in closest connection 
 with the stem will soon begin to change color, taking 
 the red or blue of the water ; for a freshly cut stem has 
 the same power as the root to suck in water eagerly and 
 quickly. 
 
 HOW A PLANT PERSPIRES 
 
 WE cannot see the water as it passes from the tiny 
 leaf mouths into the air. Neither can we see 
 the water that is being constantly carried from the sur- 
 face of our bodies into the air. But if we breathe against 
 a window pane, the scattered water in our breath is 
 collected by the cold of the glass in a little cloud; and 
 if we place the warm palms of our hands against this 
 window pane, in the same way the cold collects the 
 water that is passing from the little mouths in our skin, 
 and shows it to us as a cloud on the glass. 
 
 Heat scatters water so that we cannot see it, any 
 more than we can see the lump of sugar when its little 
 grains are scattered in hot water; but cold gathers 
 together the water drops so that we are able to see them. 
 
 This is why you can " see your breath," as you say, 
 on a cold day. The cold outside air gathers together 
 the water which was scattered by the heat of your body. 
 
 If you place against the window pane the under side 
 of the leaves of a growing plant, the water passing 
 from the tiny leaf mouths collects on the glass in just 
 
149 
 
 such a damp cloud as is made by the moist palms of 
 your warm hands. 
 
 When water passes from your hands, you say that 
 you are perspiring ; and when water passes away from 
 the plant, we can say that the plant perspires. Some 
 plants perspire more freely than others. A sunflower 
 plant has been known to give off more than three 
 tumblers of water a day by this act of perspiration. 
 
 There is a tree, called the Eucalyptus, whose leaves 
 perspire so freely that it is planted in swampy places in 
 order to drain away the water. 
 
 Of course, the more quickly the leaves throw off 
 water, the faster the fresh supply pushes up the stem. 
 
 If the leaves do their work more quickly than the 
 roots make good the loss, then the plant wilts. 
 
 When a leaf is broken from a plant, it soon fades. 
 Its water supply being cut off, it has no way of making 
 good the loss through the leaf mouths. 
 
 Just as the air in a balloon keeps its walls firm, so the 
 water in the leaf cells keeps the cell walls firm. 
 
 As a balloon collapses if you prick it with a pin, and 
 let out the air, so the cell walls collapse when the cells 
 lose their water ; and when the cell walls of a leaf col- 
 lapse, the leaf itself collapses. 
 
 >X*c 
 
 HOW A PLANT STORES ITS FOOD 
 
 WE see that the water is drawn away from the 
 earth broth into the air by the heat of the sun, 
 just as water is drawn from the broth we place on the 
 
ISO 
 
 Hi 
 
 stove by the heat of the fire ; and that when this has 
 happened, the plant's food is cooked, arid is in condition 
 to be eaten. 
 
 But this broth does not lose all its water. There is 
 still enough left to carry it back through the leaf into 
 the branches and stem, and even down into .the root 
 once more. : 
 
 In fact, the prepared food is now sent to just those 
 parts of the plant which most need it. 
 
 Perhaps it is laid up beneath the bark, to help make 
 new buds which will burst into leaf and flower another 
 year. 
 
 Or perhaps it goes down to help the roots put out 
 new branches and fresh root hairs. 
 
 Or possibly it is stowed away in such an underground 
 stem as that of the lily, or the crocus bulb, and is 
 saved for next year's food. Once in a while some of 
 this prepared food is stored in the leaf itself. 
 
 When a leaf is thick and juicy ("fleshy," the books 
 call it), we can guess that it is full of plant food. 
 
 Do you recall the Bryopliyllum, — the plant we talke^ 
 about a few days ago ? Its wonderful leaves, you re- 
 member, gave birth to a whole colony of new plants. 
 
 You may be sure that these leaves had refused to 
 give up all the food sent to them for cooking in the 
 sun. You can guess this from their thick, fleshy look, 
 and you can be sure of this when you see the baby 
 plants spring from their edges ; for without plenty of 
 nourishment stored away, these leaves could never man- 
 age to support such a quantity of young ones. 
 
i5i 
 
 LEAF GREEN AND SUNBEAM 
 
 BUT the earth broth which the roots supply is not 
 the only article of importance in the plant's bill 
 of fare. 
 
 The air about us holds one thing that every plant 
 needs as food. 
 
 This air is a mixture of several things. Just as the 
 tea we drink is a mixture of tea and water, and milk 
 and sugar, so the air is a mixture of oxygen and nitro- 
 gen, and water and carbonic-acid gas. 
 
 Oxygen, nitrogen, and carbonic-acid gas, — each one 
 of these three things that help to make the air is what we 
 call a gas, and one of these gases is made of two things. 
 Carbonic-acid gas is made of oxygen and carbon. 
 
 Now, carbon is the food which is needed by every 
 plant. But the carbon in the air is held tightly in the 
 grasp of the oxygen, with which it makes the gas called 
 carbonic-acid gas. 
 
 To get possession of this carbon, the plant must 
 contrive to break up the gas, and then to seize and 
 keep by force the carbon. 
 
 This seems like a rather difficult performance, does 
 it not ? For when a gas is made of two different 
 things, you can be pretty sure that these keep a firm 
 hold on each other, and that it is not altogether easy 
 to tear them apart. 
 
 Now, how does the plant meet this difficulty ? 
 
 You cannot guess by yourselves how this is done, so 
 I must tell you the whole story. 
 
152 
 
 Certain cells in the plant are trained from birth for 
 this special work, — the work of getting possession of 
 the carbon needed for plant food. These little cells 
 take in the carbonic-acid gas from the air ; then they 
 break it up, tearing the carbon from the close embrace 
 of the oxygen, pushing the oxygen back into the air it 
 came from, and turning the carbon over to the plant 
 to be stored away till needed as food. 
 
 Only certain cells can do this special piece of work. 
 Only the cells which hold the green substance that 
 colors the leaf can tear apart carbonic-acid gas. Every 
 little cell which holds a bit of this leaf green devotes 
 itself to separating the carbon from the oxygen. 
 
 Why this special power lies in a tiny speck of leaf 
 green we do not know. We only know that a cell 
 without such an occupant is quite unable to break up 
 carbonic-acid gas. 
 
 But even the bit of leaf green in a tiny cell needs 
 some help in its task. What aid does it call in, do you 
 suppose, when it works to wrench apart the gas ? 
 
 In this work the partner of the bit of leaf green is 
 nothing more or less than a sunbeam. Without the 
 aid of a sunbeam, the imprisoned leaf green is as 
 helpless to steal the carbon as you or I would be. 
 
 It sounds a good deal like a fairy story, does it not, — 
 this story of Leaf Green and Sunbeam? 
 
 Charcoal is made of carbon. About one half of 
 every plant is carbon. 
 
 The coal we burn in our fireplaces is the carbon left 
 upon the earth by plants that lived and died thousands 
 of years ago. It is the carbon that Leaf Green and 
 
153 
 
 Sunbeam together stole from the air, and turned over 
 into the plant. 
 
 If one looks at a piece of coal with the eyes which 
 one keeps for the little picture gallery all children carry 
 in their heads, one sees more than just a shining, black 
 lump. One sees a plant that grew upon the earth 
 thousands of years ago, with its bright green leaves 
 dancing in the sunlight ; for without those green leaves 
 and that sunlight, there could be no coal for burning 
 to-day. And when we light our coal fire, what we 
 really do is to set free the sunbeams that worked, their 
 way so long ago into the plant cells. 
 
 It is more like a fairy story than ever. Sunbeam is 
 the noble knight who fought his way into the cell where 
 Leaf Green lay imprisoned, doomed to perform a task 
 which was beyond her power. But with the aid of 
 the noble Sunbeam, she did this piece of work, and 
 then both fell asleep, and slept for a thousand years. 
 Awakening at last, together they made their joyful 
 escape in the flame that leaps from out the black 
 coal. 
 
 In truth, a sunbeam and a flame are not so unlike 
 as to make this story as improbable as many others 
 that we read. 
 
 And because I have told it to you in the shape of 
 a fairy story, you must not think it is not true. It 
 is indeed true. Everywhere in the sunshiny woods 
 and fields of summer, the story of Leaf Green and 
 Sunbeam is being lived. But when the day is cloudy 
 or the sun sets, then there is no Sunbeam to help the 
 Princess, and then no carbon is stolen from the air. 
 
154 
 
 PLANT OR ANIMAL? 
 
 DID you ever stop to ask yourself, "What is the 
 difference between a plant and an animal ? " 
 because this is the place where that question should 
 be answered. 
 
 " Why, an animal is altogether different from a 
 plant," you answer, perhaps a little scornfully. " I 
 have no trouble in telling which is which." 
 
 It is very natural that you should feel this way. 
 A cow or a horse, for example, is not at all like a 
 tree ; and when you think of animals, you think of 
 the ones you know best, and likewise of plants. 
 
 But wise men have discovered plants that look and 
 act so much like animals, and animals that look and 
 act so much like plants, that at one time they say, 
 " Now, these are animals, surely," and a little later 
 exclaim, "No, after all, these are plants;" and they 
 take a long time to make up their minds as to whether 
 certain objects are plants or animals. 
 
 And already even you children have discovered that 
 the plants you know best belong to families, and have 
 children, and care for them in a very motherly fashion ; 
 that they drink earth food with their roots, and eat 
 carbon food with their leaves ; and soon you will find 
 that they do many other things which once upon a 
 time you would have thought it a great joke to be 
 told a plant could do. 
 
 You remember my telling you of one little plant 
 cell that could swim ; and there are some animals, 
 
155 
 
 you know, that are rooted to one spot as we usually 
 think only a plant is rooted. 
 
 What, then, is the difference between a plant and 
 an animal ? 
 
 Leaf Green and Sunbeam between them put life 
 into what had no life before ; and the living plant 
 matter, which they help to make, is that which animals 
 cannot make themselves, yet which they cannot live 
 without, for this living matter is absolutely necessary 
 to them as food. 
 
 And the one real difference between a plant and an 
 animal is this, — a plant can make out of certain dead 
 substances the living matter that all animals must have 
 for food ; an animal cannot do this. 
 
56 
 
 HOW WE ARE HELPED BY LEAF GREEN 
 AND SUNBEAM 
 
 THE cell in which Leaf Green lives has no little 
 mouths such as we saw in the picture some time 
 ago. 
 
 Its walls are so delicate that the carbonic-acid gas 
 passes through them quite easily, — as easily as the 
 gas escaping from an unlighted jet in the schoolroom 
 could pass to your nose even if you wore a veil, or as 
 easily as water would pass through a piece of muslin. 
 
 But between Leaf Green's cell and the outer air are 
 other cells, — those which make up the outer covering 
 or skin of the leaf. These are arranged so as to form 
 the openings or mouths about which we have read. By 
 means of these mouths the gas makes its way through 
 the leaf's thick skin. 
 
 The plant needs as food the carbon in this gas, 
 and so keeps fast hold of it ; but the oxygen is not 
 needed for this purpose, and so it is pushed back into 
 the air. 
 
 Now, we learned in the last chapter of one very great 
 service rendered to animals by plants. We learned that 
 plants took carbon from the air, and turned this into 
 food for animals. 
 
 But there is still another way in which plants serve 
 animals. And once more it is the work of Leaf Green 
 and Sunbeam that is of such importance to us ; for 
 when they take hold of the carbon, making it into 
 living food for man and beast, they take from the air 
 
i57 
 
 the gas that is poisonous, and send back into the air 
 the gas which gives life and health. 
 
 This poisonous gas which they lay hold of, you re- 
 member, is carbonic-acid gas ; and carbonic-acid gas is 
 what we animals send out of our bodies with every 
 breath, for it is the part of the air which poisons us. 
 When the schoolroom is so close that our heads ache, 
 it is because so many children have been breathing out 
 this gas, and we are forced to take it back into our 
 bodies again. 
 
 But when this gas is stolen by the plant, and robbed 
 of its carbon, it is no longer carbonic-acid gas. Noth- 
 ing of it is left but the oxygen which is pushed out 
 through the cell walls ; and this oxygen is as good to 
 breathe as the other gas (carbon and oxygen mixed) 
 is bad. 
 
 So the plant finds good what we find poisonous. It 
 takes in and keeps that which hurts us (the carbon), and 
 sends out that which helps us (the oxygen). 
 
 So you see that our lives depend on the lives of plants 
 in two ways : — 
 
 i. The plants give us the food we need for life. 
 
 2. The plants take from the air the gas that poisons 
 us, and give to the air the gas which we need for life 
 and health. 
 
 And in both cases it is Leaf Green and Sunbeam who 
 are making life possible for us. 
 
 Remember the great services of these two fairies 
 when next you pass a green tree which is bathing itself 
 in sunshine. 
 
153 
 
 HOW A PLANT BREATHES 
 
 PERHAPS you have heard people say that it is not 
 good to sleep in a room with plants. 
 
 They say this, because they have heard that at night 
 the plant does not give out oxygen, but that it does 
 give out the poisonous carbonic-acid gas. 
 
 Now, you children know that part of this statement 
 is true. 
 
 You know that the plant cannot give out oxygen at 
 night, because at that time there is no Sunbeam about 
 to help Leaf Green tear apart carbonic-acid gas and 
 send the oxygen back into the air. 
 
 But how about the other part of the statement ? 
 
 Is it true that at night plants give out the poisonous 
 carbonic-acid gas ? 
 
 Both day and night, plants give out carbonic-acid gas ; 
 for though plants, save in the sunlight, cannot eat by 
 means of their little green cells, they can breathe 
 through the tiny mouths (Fig. 137) on the under side 
 of the leaf by night as well as by day. 
 
 And when either a plant or an animal breathes, it 
 takes the life-giving oxygen from out the air mixture, 
 and keeps it for its own use. But poisonous carbonic- 
 acid gas is sent back into the air. Now, the question is, 
 whether a plant does most good or most harm to the air 
 by taking in and sending out the different gases. 
 
 Of course, it does good when it lets the oxygen out 
 through its cell walls, and stores away the carbon within 
 itself ; and it may seem to do harm when through its 
 
159 
 
 leaf mouths it breathes in oxygen and breathes out 
 carbonic-acid gas. 
 
 There is only one key to unlock the matter, and that 
 is this, — to find out whether the plant does most 
 towards poisoning or towards purifying the air. 
 
 And that has been found out already. 
 
 Wise men say that Leaf Green and Sunbeam do 
 much more good to the air than the little breathing 
 mouths do harm. The two good fairies take away a 
 great deal of poison, and send back a great deal of the 
 helpful oxygen ; while the tiny mouths neither rob the 
 air of much oxygen nor give it much poison. In- 
 deed, the harm they do is so small compared with the 
 great good accomplished by Leaf Green and Sunbeam, 
 that even at night you need not worry at the thought 
 that you have plants in your room. 
 
 Perhaps you wonder that a plant does these two 
 things that are so exactly opposite to each other. 
 
 But a plant must breathe as well as eat ; for when it 
 breathes, it takes in the precious oxygen which is just 
 as necessary to its life as to ours. 
 
 In summer, by the dusty roadside, you see plants 
 almost white with dust, looking quite ill and lifeless. 
 
 And they are both ill and lifeless ; for their little leaf 
 throats are so choked that they cannot breathe in the 
 oxygen they need, and in consequence they are being 
 slowly suffocated. 
 
i6o 
 
 THE DILIGENT TREE 
 
 NOW we have learned three things about plants, 
 and especially about leaves. We have learned — 
 i. That they perspire. 
 
 2. That they eat and drink. 
 
 3. That they breathe. 
 
 They perspire when the water passes through the 
 leaf mouths into the air. 
 
 They eat when Leaf Green and Sunbeam together 
 manage to take the carbon out of the carbonic-acid gas 
 which has made its entrance through the leaf mouth 
 and the cell wall. They drink when the roots suck in 
 water and earth broth. 
 
 They breathe when the leaf mouths take from the air 
 the oxygen, and give back to it carbonic-acid gas. 
 
 The veins and veinlets, of which you see so many 
 running through a leaf, act in something the same way 
 as the water pipes of a city ; for through these veins 
 the watery food, the earth broth, is carried to the dif- 
 ferent cells. 
 
 When one knows all that we know even now about 
 a plant, one looks at a tree covered with leaves with a 
 good deal, of admiration. 
 
 Just think of what is being done inside that quiet- 
 looking tree ! Think of the millions of cells that go 
 to make it up, each cell having its own work to 
 do ! Think of the immense amount of business being 
 carried on within the trunk, inside the branches, and 
 especially in each green leaf ! And when you have the 
 
i6i 
 
 chance, notice how hard each leaf tries to get just as 
 much sun and air as it possibly can. 
 
 In the first place, the thin, flat leaf blades are so 
 spread out that every part is exposed to the light 
 and air. 
 
 Then notice how the leaves are placed in reference 
 to one another. 
 
 Almost every single one is fastened to the tree so 
 as to get its fair share of sunshine. 
 
 When you think of the many thousands of leaves 
 borne by one tree, it astonishes you to see how seldom 
 one leaf gets in another's light. 
 
 And the shapes of leaves are always suited to their 
 arrangement on the tree. 
 
 If you should take the leaves of a chestnut tree and 
 replace them by the leaves of a maple, you would 
 find the maple leaves all getting in each other's way, or 
 else you would see that they were taking up a great 
 deal more room than necessary. 
 
 But when a leaf is studied on its own tree, one sees 
 that its shape is the very best that could be imagined 
 for its position. 
 
 And in the smaller plants we notice this same thing. 
 
 And when you remember that Leaf Green cannot 
 feed the plant unless Sunbeam comes to her assistance, 
 you realize how necessary it is that each leaf be within 
 the reach of Sunbeam's visits. 
 
 DANA'S PLANTS. — 1 1 
 
162 
 
 LEAVES AND ROOTS 
 
 YOU will be surprised to learn that the way in which 
 a plant's leaves grow tells us something of the 
 way in which its roots grow. 
 
 Many of you have been overtaken far from home in 
 a rainstorm, and have sought shelter under a spreading 
 tree. The ground directly beneath the tree has kept 
 almost dry even after some hours of rain, but the 
 earth just under the tips of the spreading branches got 
 very wet: for the great tree acted like a large umbrella; 
 and when the raindrops fell upon the smooth leaves, 
 which sloped outward and downward, they rolled from 
 leaf to leaf till they reached the very lowest, outermost 
 leaves of all. From these they fell to the ground, just 
 as the drops that gather upon your umbrella run out- 
 ward and downward to the umbrella's edge, and then 
 off upon the ground. 
 
 So you can see that the circle of earth which marks 
 the spread of the branches above must be specially wet, 
 as it received a great part of the rain which fell upon 
 the whole tree. 
 
 And whenever you see a tree which sheds the rain 
 water in such a circle, you can be pretty sure that, if 
 you should dig into the earth a ditch which followed 
 this circle, you would soon reach the tips of the new 
 root branches of the tree. 
 
 You know that the root does the drinking for the 
 plant ; and only the newest parts of the root, the fresh 
 root tips, are really good for work of this sort. You 
 
163 
 
 remember that the earth food is carried up the stem to 
 the leaves in a watery broth ; and that if the water 
 supply should give out, the new plant cells would not 
 get the broth which helps them to grow, and to put out 
 other cells, and so to build up the plant. 
 
 Now, as only the new root branches, near their tips, 
 are able to drink, if the water should leak through 
 the earth in equal quantities 
 everywhere, much of it would 
 be wasted ; but when this 
 water is collected in certain 
 spots within reach of the new 
 root branches, there is good 
 reason to believe that these 
 will be able to satisfy their 
 thirst. 
 
 By the shedding of the rain 
 from the tips of the spreading 
 branches above, the water is 
 collected in a ring, and so 
 sinks into the earth ; and the 
 root branches below spread 
 out in just the same direction 
 as the tree branches above, till they find what they 
 need, and drink their fill. 
 
 So by the way in which a tree sheds the rain, you 
 can tell just where its root branches reach out under- 
 ground. 
 
 In smaller plants you see much the same thing. 
 Fig. 138 shows a plant called the Caladium. You can 
 see that the raindrops must roll outward down these 
 
164 
 
 leaves, and fall upon the earth just above the tips of 
 the root branches. 
 
 Fig. 139 shows you the rhubarb plant. This has 
 quite a different sort of root. Now, if the rhu- 
 barb leaves were like those of the Caladium, unless 
 the rhubarb root - branches 
 changed their direction, these 
 root-branches would grow very 
 thirsty indeed. 
 
 But as it is, the water pours 
 down these leaves toward the 
 center of the plant, and reaches 
 the ground almost directly over 
 the straight, fleshy root, with 
 its downward-growing branches ; 
 and we see that these root- 
 branches are watered by the 
 leaves above just as carefully as 
 are those of the Caladium. 
 
 By knowing one thing about 
 a plant, often you can guess 
 that another thing is so. 
 You understand now that when the leaves of a plant 
 shed rain water after the fashion of the Caladium, the 
 chances are that its root-branches spread out as far 
 as the drip of the water; and that the root of the 
 rhubarb points almost straight downward, is told you 
 by the drip of water from the rhubarb leaves. 
 
 Fig. 139 
 
i6< 
 
 LEAF VEINS 
 
 SOME time ago you learned that 
 from the stem of a plant you 
 could guess the number of seed leaves 
 which it brought into the world, and 
 that in the same way from the seed 
 leaves you could guess what kind of a 
 stem it would build up. 
 
 From the way in which a leaf is 
 veined you can guess both of these 
 things. You can guess what sort of a 
 stem belongs to the plant, and with how 
 many seed leaves it began life. 
 
 When the little veins run in and out, 
 form- k ing a sort of network, we say 
 that h\ the leaf is " net-veined 
 
 Fig. 140 
 
 
 ^liiiWll'.,»f,iw^, 
 
 jfuiUft, 
 
 Fig. 142 
 
 These leaves of the quince (Fig. 140), the maple 1 Fi< 
 141), and the basswood (Fig. 142) are all net-veined. 
 
1 66 
 
 Net-veined leaves are borne by plants which brought 
 into the world more than one seed leaf; and with the 
 net-veined leaf we can expect to find that 
 stem which comes with more than one seed 
 leaf, — a stem where the skin or bark, the 
 woody rings, and the soft central pith, are 
 clearly separated one from another. 
 
 But a leaf such as that in Fig. 143 or that 
 in Fig. 144, where the veins do 
 not branch off in a network, but 
 run in unbroken lines side by 
 side, — such leaves as these tell 
 you that they are borne by plants 
 which started life with only one seed leaf, 
 and which have such a stem as the corn- 
 stalk, where you see no woody rings or 
 central pith. 
 
 These leaves are called "parallel-veined." 
 I fear that you find all this a little diffi- 
 cult to understand and to remember ; but if you read it 
 patiently, when you study the botany for older children, 
 I think it will come back to you and make your lessons 
 easier. 
 
 Fig. 143 
 
 Fig. 144 
 
LEAF SHAPES 
 
 AS I told you before, we should notice al 
 ways the shape of a leaf. 
 It is much easier to describe some 
 new plant we have met on our walks if 
 we remember the shape of its leaves. 
 Next summer I hope you will make 
 collection of leaves, pressing and keeping 
 them. I think you will be amazed at their 
 great variety in shape. 
 Some you find long 
 and narrow, others 
 almost round. Some 
 f s~-^\ are arrow - shaped, 
 (,/^/W^ others star - shaped, 
 / /^^ others needle-shaped 
 ^yp (Fig. 145). Some are 
 three-pointed like the 
 maple leaf (Fig. 146); 
 others deeply- parted, 
 like the oak leaf (Fig. 
 
 i47> 
 
 167 
 
 Fig. 145 
 
 Fig. 146 
 
1 68 
 
 Fig. 147 
 
 Sometimes a large leaf is cut up into 
 several little leaves. These little leaves 
 are called " leaflets." 
 
 The clover leaf (Fig. 148) has 
 three leaflets. 
 
 The locust leaf (Fig. 149) is 
 cut into a great many leaflets. 
 
 The edge of one leaf (Fig. 150) is 
 smooth, while that of another is cut into Fig. 148 
 little teeth (Fig. 1 5 1) like the teeth of a saw. 
 
 I should like to know how many of you 
 children, without looking even at a picture 
 save such as you carry in that little gallery 
 in your head, could describe cor- 
 rectly the shapes of some of our 
 common leaves. I should like to 
 ask you to draw on the blackboard 
 the rough outlines of any leaves 
 
 Fig. 149 
 
 Fig. 150 Fig. 151 
 
 that you remember. If you think 
 you could not do this, will you not 
 try, when next you see a leaf, to 
 carry off in your mind such a pic- 
 ture of it as to enable you to outline 
 
i6g 
 
 it on the blackboard when you go back to the school- 
 room ? 
 
 Really it does not take any more time to see a thing 
 correctly than to see it incorrectly. It takes a little 
 more sense, that is all. 
 
 It takes some sense to give even one minute oi 
 honest thought to the thing you are looking at. 
 
 You know some children who never seem to have 
 all their thoughts in one place at a time, and who in 
 consequence never see anything really well. 
 
 It is better to stop doing a thing altogether than 
 to do it in a foolish sort of way ; and it is foolish to 
 start to do even the smallest thing, and yet not do it. 
 
 The child who looks at even a leaf in a way to 
 make it possible for him to draw the outline of that 
 leaf five minutes later, is likely to be the child who 
 goes in for both work and play with all his heart, and 
 who comes out as far ahead on the playground as he 
 does in the schoolroom. 
 
 Now, after that lecture, which some of you need 
 badly enough (and which I will tell you, as a great 
 secret, I need not a little myself), I want to point out 
 a few more of the things that are worth noticing in a 
 leaf. 
 
 But perhaps it is better to save them for another 
 chapter. 
 
170 
 
 HAIRY LEAVES 
 
 NOTICE always whether a leaf is smooth or hairy. 
 Do you remember the mullein that sends up 
 its tall spires over the hill pasture ? The grayish 
 leaves of this mullein are so hairy that they feel 
 almost like wool. What is the use of all this hair ? 
 It is not likely that a plant would wrap itself in this 
 hairy coat except for some good reason. 
 
 It is believed that this coating of the mullein pre- 
 vents animals from eating the leaves, and so destroy- 
 ing the plant. In the mouth, these hairs slip from 
 the leaf blade, and cause a most unpleasant sensation. 
 
 But usually the hairs on a leaf are helpful because 
 they prevent too much perspiration or giving-off of 
 water. The more freely the hot sun beats upon a 
 leaf, the more quickly the water is drawn away from 
 it. You can see just how this is by hanging a wet 
 towel in front of the fire. In a very short time the 
 heat from the burning coals draws the water from 
 the towel. But put a screen between the fire and 
 the towel, and the water passes off more slowly. 
 
 Now, the hairs on that side of the leaf which faces 
 the sun act as a screen from its fierce heat. We have 
 learned how important it is that the leaf should not 
 part with its water more quickly than the roots can 
 make up the loss. We know that when a leaf does 
 this, it wilts just as a leaf wilts when it is picked and 
 cut off from its water supply, on account of the col- 
 lapse of the walls of the many little cells which are 
 emptied of water. 
 
So you can understand that plants which grow in 
 dry, sunny places, where there is little drinking water 
 for the roots, and where the sun beats constantly on 
 the leaves, must take every care that there is no 
 waste of water. 
 
 And if you keep your eyes open, you will discover 
 that many of the plants which grow in such places 
 screen themselves from the full heat of the sun by a 
 coat of hairs. 
 
 The plant called "life everlasting" is one which 
 grows in dry, open, sunny places. It clothes its leaves 
 with silky hairs, and so prevents them from throw- 
 ing off too quickly the small amount of water its roots 
 are able to provide. Without this silky coat, the sun 
 would suck its leaves quite dry of water. 
 
 Sometimes a leaf has only a few of the little leaf 
 mouths through which most of the water passes. As 
 these mouths are wide open only in the sunlight, and 
 as often the rest of the leaf is covered with a thick 
 skin which prevents the water from slipping away (as 
 a little of it nearly always does) through the cell walls, 
 such a leaf will hold its water supply and keep fresh 
 for a long time. Such leaves as these we find on what 
 we call "evergreen" plants. The pines and hemlocks 
 which light up the woods all winter have these thick- 
 skinned, few-mouthed leaves, which throw off so little 
 water that even when the ground is frozen hard, and 
 gives no drinking water to the roots, they are able to 
 keep fresh by the careful way in which each one 
 hoards its own little supply. 
 
172 
 
 WOOLLY AND "DUSTY" LEAVES 
 
 CURIOUSLY enough, some plants put on a hairy 
 coat for just the opposite reason from the 
 one which makes life everlasting clothe itself in that 
 fashion. Life everlasting fears lest its leaves throw 
 off their water, or perspire too quickly. 
 
 Down by the stream that runs through the meadow 
 grow great clusters of the pink-flowered steeple bush. 
 If you look at the lower sides of the leaves of the 
 steeple bush, you see that they are very woolly. As 
 this wool is not between the sun and the leaf blade, 
 it cannot be meant to protect the leaves from the 
 heat of the sun ; and indeed in this wet meadow, 
 close to the river, never mind how quickly the leaves 
 throw off their water, the roots can have no difficulty 
 in finding close by more than enough to make good 
 the loss. No, the fact is that these leaves need to 
 throw off water very freely indeed to make room for 
 the ever-fresh supply that is pushing up the stem, 
 and their woolly covering is intended to help them 
 do this very thing. Its object is to aid perspiration. 
 In swampy places the moisture rises every night from 
 the wet ground, and settles on the plants about. The 
 little mouths on the under surfaces of the leaves of 
 the steeple bush would soon be clogged with the mois- 
 ture rising from below, if they were not protected in 
 some way ; and if they became so clogged, they could 
 not throw off the water with which the whole plant is 
 charged. Thus, by having this thick coat of hair, the 
 
water that otherwise would cling to the outer surface 
 of the leaf blade is kept at a distance from the little 
 mouths, and these are not interrupted in the per- 
 formance of a duty so necessary to the health of the 
 plant. 
 
 This same habit of coating its lower leaf surfaces 
 with hair, you notice in the speckled or swamp alder, a 
 shrub which grows also in wet places, and therefore 
 runs the same risk of having its leaf mouths clogged 
 with water. 
 
 So when you see only the upper surface of a leaf 
 covered with hair, you can guess that the object of the 
 plant is to prevent too much perspiration ; but when 
 you see only its lower side clothed in this same way, 
 you can guess that the plant fears too little perspiration. 
 
 Sometimes you find a plant with leaves which have a 
 coating of what looks almost like dust on one or both of 
 their surfaces. This dust we call " bloom." We see it 
 in apples and grapes, as well as on leaves. It is made 
 up of a waxy material which is put forth by the plant 
 just as it puts forth hair. This bloom the plant uses 
 also as a help to free perspiration. By thus clothing its 
 leaves it shields the little mouths from water clogging ; 
 and so you can be sure that the little mouths have not 
 been filled with water, and thus prevented from doing 
 their work. 
 
 The cabbage leaf has mouths on both of its surfaces, 
 and so both sides are covered with this protecting bloom. 
 If you dip a cabbage leaf in water and then shake it, the 
 drops roll off and leave it quite dry. , 
 
PRICKLES AND 
 POISON 
 
 LEAVES need to ._ 
 < protect themselves 
 from other enemies than 
 too great heat and too 
 much water. 
 
 We found that the prickly 
 armor of the thistle enabled it to 
 live in pastures where the cattle had 
 killed most of the other plants. 
 
 Many animals like to eat green 
 leaves, so we are not surprised to 
 find that plants invent different 
 ways of protecting themselves. 
 
 One look at the leaf of the thistle 
 is enough to persuade us that it 
 would not be very good eat- 
 ing. 
 
 The red-berried holly, 
 with which we decorate 
 our churches and .-^ \ 
 
 ' mm 
 
 w 
 
 
 c^m/T 
 
 
 in 
 
 
 J 
 
175 
 
 houses at Christmas time, is another plant with prickly 
 leaves. 
 
 Some plants cover their leaves with bristles, which 
 the cattle dread almost as much as the stout prickles. 
 
 As we read before, the mullein defends its leaves by 
 a fuzzy coat of hair. Such an armor as this is less 
 warlike than that of the thistle, but quite as effective. 
 
 Other plants fill their leaves with juices which are 
 either poisonous or unpleasant. 
 
 It seems as if animals guessed the presence of these 
 unfriendly juices by the plant's smell, for they will 
 munch the different growing things all about such a 
 plant as this, and leave the harmful leaves severely 
 alone. 
 
 The nettles cover their leaves with stinging hairs. 
 These stiff hairs break off when handled, burying them- 
 selves in the flesh, and sending out a burning acid that 
 punishes severely the meddler, man or beast, as it may 
 happen to be. 
 
 By this time I think you realize that leaves are well 
 worth noticing. And when you have looked at a leaf 
 so fully as to be able to carry in your mind its outline, 
 I hope you will then discover whether it wears a coat of 
 hair, or a dusty bloom, or a prickly armor, or a thick, 
 evergreen skin, and that you will decide what enemies 
 it is trying to escape. 
 
I ;6 
 
 The pitcher plant lives 
 places, such as the shaded 
 the marsh down by th< 
 
 On account of i 
 it is brought to 
 
 SOME CRUEL TRAPS 
 
 HAVE you ever seen a leaf like the one in this 
 picture (Fig. 152)? 
 It is shaped something like a pitcher ; and the plant 
 on which it grows has been named the "pitcher plant." 
 
 in low, wet 
 
 swamp, or 
 
 fj lake. 
 
 curious leaves 
 
 the cities, and is 
 
 treet corners or at 
 
 : comes the great 
 tcher plant. Some- 
 times this is a dull red ; again it is a delicate pink 
 Fig. 152 or perhaps a light green ; and it has a faint, pleasant 
 fragrance. 
 
 Next June I hope that some of you children will 
 find these beautiful flowers and these curious leaves. 
 Why should a leaf be shaped like a pitcher, do you 
 suppose ? 
 
 These leaves are not only pitcher-like in shape, but 
 also in their way of holding water; for if you succeed 
 in discovering a settlement of pitcher plants, you will 
 find that nearly every pitcher is partly filled with rain 
 water. Usually this water is far from clear. It ap- 
 pears to hold the remains of drowned insects ; and 
 sometimes the odor arising from a collection of these 
 pitcher plants is not exactly pleasant. 
 
177 
 
 Perhaps you wonder how it happens that dead insects 
 are found in every one of these pitchers ; and possibly 
 you will be surprised to learn that apparently these 
 curious leaves are built for the express purpose of 
 capturing insects. 
 
 It is easy to understand that these odd leaves are not 
 so well fitted as more simple ones to cook the plant's 
 food in the sun, or to take carbon from the air ; but if 
 they are unfitted to provide and prepare ordinary food, 
 possibly they are designed to secure food that is 
 extraordinary. 
 
 It seems likely that the pitcher plant is not content 
 to live, like other plants, upon the simple food that is 
 taken in from the earth and from the air. We are led 
 to believe that it wishes something more substantial ; 
 that it needs a meat diet ; and that to secure this, it 
 teaches its leaves to capture flies and insects in order 
 that it may suck in their juices. 
 
 These leaves are veined in a curious and striking 
 fashion. The bright-colored veins mav convince the 
 insects of the presence of the sweet nectar in which they 
 delight. At all events, in some way they are tempted 
 to enter the hollow leaf ; and, once they have crawled 
 or tumbled down its slippery inner surface, they find it 
 impossible to crawl back again, owing to the stiff hairs, 
 pointing downward, which line the upper part of the 
 pitcher. 
 
 Even if they have wings, it is difficult for them to fly 
 upward in so straight a line as would be necessary to 
 effect their escape. 
 
 When tired out in their efforts to get out of this cruel 
 dana's plants. — 12 
 
1 7 8 
 
 trap, they fall into the water at the bottom of the 
 pitcher, and are drowned. Their bodies decay and dis- 
 solve; and it is thought that this solution is taken in by 
 the leaf, and turned over to the plant as food. 
 
 It is just the old, sad story of the spider and the fly, 
 you see, only now it is the pitcher and the fly. 
 
 But be sure to examine one of these pitchers if you 
 possibly can, and then you will understand better how 
 the whole thing is managed. 
 
 The leaf in this picture (Fig. 153) 
 for it is a leaf, you cannot find in our 
 North American swamps. It grows 
 on a plant called Nepenthes, a plant 
 which lives in hot countries far from 
 the United States. 
 
 The leaf in the picture is full 
 grown, and all ready for its work of 
 trapping animals. Before it was old 
 enough to do this, the lid which is 
 now lifted was laid nicely across the 
 opening to the pocket, and so prevented any unseason- 
 able visits. 
 
 Sometimes these pockets are so large as to be able to 
 hold and to hide from sight a pigeon. They are gayly 
 colored, and the rim around their border is covered with 
 a sugary, tempting juice. So you can guess that the 
 animals in search of nectar are not slow in accepting 
 the invitation offered by color and sweets, and that some 
 of these are imprudent enough to venture across the 
 sticky edge. In this event they are pretty sure to lose 
 their footing on the slippery inner surface of the pocket, 
 
179 
 
 and to fall into the watery liquid with which it is filled. 
 Even if they do not slip immediately, their efforts to 
 crawl back over the rim are defeated by a row of teeth 
 such as you see in the picture. 
 
 The liquid at the bottom of the leaf is not rain water, 
 as in the pitcher plant. It is given out by the leaf 
 
 v& 
 
 w 
 
 ■"V I i 
 
 _' 
 
 mm 
 
 ^?i 
 
 Fig. 154 
 
 itself; and it contains an acid which dissolves the 
 animals' bodies, so that their more nourishing parts can 
 easily be taken in by certain little cells which line the 
 lower part of the pocket, and which have been brought 
 up to this work. 
 
 The next picture (Fig. 154) shows you a water plant. 
 It is called the "bladderwort," because of the little bags 
 
i8o 
 
 or bladders which you see growing from the branches 
 under water. The little bladders are traps set for water 
 animals, which swim into them in their wish, perhaps, 
 to escape some enemy. But they are quite unable to 
 swim out again ; for the door into the bladder is trans- 
 parent, and looks like an open entrance with a nice 
 hiding place beyond. It opens easily from the outside, 
 but is so arranged that it will not open from within. 
 So when the poor little animal hurriedly swims into 
 what seems to it a cozy resting spot, and draws a long 
 breath of relief at getting safe inside, it is hopelessly 
 caught, and must slowly starve to death, for there is no 
 chance of escape. It may live for nearly a week in this 
 prison ; but at last it dies. Its body decays, and is 
 taken in as food by the cells set apart for that purpose. 
 Strangely enough, though we ourselves do not hesi- 
 tate to kill animals for food, and sometimes, I am sorry 
 to say, for nothing but amusement, we give a little 
 shiver of disgust when we find these plants doing the 
 same thing. Some lines that came out in one of the 
 magazines a few years ago express this feeling : — 
 
 "What's this I hear 
 About the new Carnivora? 
 Can little plants 
 Eat bugs and ants 
 And gnats and flies ? 
 A sort of retrograding! 
 Surely the fare 
 Of flowers is air, 
 Or sunshine sweet. 
 They shouldn't eat 
 Or do auofht so deeradinof." 
 
i8i 
 
 MORE CRUEL TRAPS 
 
 ives 
 
 THE plants about which we read in the last chapter 
 do not take any active part in capturing insects. 
 They set their traps, and then keep quiet. But there 
 are plants which lay hold of their poor victims, and 
 crush the life out of them in a way that seems almost 
 uncanny. 
 
 This leaf (Fig. 155) belongs to a plant which 
 in North Carolina. It is called Venus's 
 flytrap. 
 
 You see that the upper, rounded part 
 of the leaf is divided by a rib into two 
 halves. From the edges of these 
 rounded halves run out a number of 
 long, sharp teeth; and three stout bris- 
 tles stand out from the central part of 
 each half. When an insect alights upon 
 this horrible leaf, the two halves come 
 suddenly together, and the teeth which 
 fringe their edges are locked into one an- 
 other like the fingers of clasped hands. 
 
 The poor body that is caught in this cruel trap is 
 crushed to pieces. Certain cells in the leaf then send 
 out an acid in which it is dissolved, and other cells 
 swallow the solution. 
 
 After this performance the leaf remains closed for 
 from one to three weeks. When finally it reopens, the 
 insect's body has disappeared, and the trap is set and 
 ready for another victim, 
 
 Fig. 1 : 
 
182 
 
 The next picture (Fig. 156) shows you a little plant 
 which is very common in our swamps, — so common 
 that some of you ought to find it without 
 difficulty next summer, and try upon it 
 some experiments of your own. 
 
 It is called the "sundew." This name 
 has been given to it because in the sun- 
 shine its leaves look as though wet with 
 dew. But the pretty drops which sparkle 
 like dew do not seem so innocent when you 
 know their object. You feel that they 
 are no more pleasing than is the bit of 
 cheese in the mouse trap. 
 
 When you see this plant growing 
 in the swamp among the cranberry 
 vines and the pink orchids, you 
 admire its little white flowers, and its round red-haired 
 leaves, and think it a pretty, harmless thing. But bend 
 down and pluck it up, root and all, out of the wet, 
 black earth. Carry it home with you, and, if you have 
 a magnifying glass, examine one of its 
 leaves. 
 
 The picture (Fig. 157) shows you a 
 leaf much larger than it is in life. The 
 red hairs look like pins stuck in a 
 cushion, and the head of each pin glis- 
 tens with the drop that looks like dew. 
 
 But the ants and flies do not take 
 these drops for dew. They believe 
 
 Fig. 15; 
 
 them to be the sweet nectar for which they long, and 
 they climb or light upon the leaves in this belief. 
 
i83 
 
 And then what happens ? 
 
 The next two pictures will show you (Figs. 158, 159) 
 The red hairs close slowly but surely over the insect 
 whose legs are already caught and held fast 
 by the sticky drops it mistook for nectar, 
 and they hold it imprisoned till it dies and 
 its juices are sucked in by the leaf. 
 
 I should like you to satisfy yourselves 
 that these leaves act in the way I have de- 
 scribed. But a bit of fresh meat will excite 
 
 the red hairs to do their work quite as 
 well as an insect, and I hope in your 
 experiments you will be merciful as well 
 as inquiring. 
 
 So you see that the little sundew is quite 
 as cruel in its way as the other insect- 
 eating plants. But its gentle looks seem to 
 have deceived the poet Swinburne, who won- 
 ders how and what these little plants feel, whether like 
 ourselves they love life and air and sunshine. 
 
 Fig. ic8 
 
 Fig. 159 
 
 ; A little marsh-plant, yellow-green 
 And tipped at lip with tender red. 
 Tread close, and either way you tread, 
 
 Some faint, black water jets between 
 Lest you should bruise its curious head. 
 
 " You call it sundew ; how it grows, 
 If with its color it have breath. 
 If life taste sweet to it, if death 
 Pain its soft petal, no man knows. 
 
 Man has no sight or sense that saith." 
 
8 4 
 
 THE FALL OF THE LEAF 
 
 YOU know that in autumn nearly all the leaves fall 
 from the trees. To be sure, a few trees (such as 
 the pines and hemlocks) and some plants (such as the 
 laurel and wintergreen and partridge vine) do hold fast 
 their leaves all winter ; but these are so few as com- 
 pared with the many plants which lose their leaves, 
 that they hardly count. 
 
 Perhaps you never stopped to wonder why most 
 plants get rid of their leaves before winter comes on ; 
 but you feel pretty sure now that there is some good 
 reason for a habit that is adopted by nearly all the 
 plants that live in this part of the country. 
 
 When we were talking about the way in which 
 leaves defend themselves from different dangers, we 
 found that evergreen leaves, the leaves which hold fast 
 to the tree and keep fresh all winter, manage to keep 
 their water safe inside their cells by wearing a very 
 thick skin, and by not having too many little leaf 
 mouths. For when a leaf has a thin skin and a great 
 many mouths, its water leaks away very quickly. And 
 if many such leaves should remain upon a plant into 
 the winter, might it not happen that they would let 
 off all its water at a time when its roots could not find 
 any more in the frozen ground ? And thus might not 
 the leaves kill the plant by draining it quite dry ? 
 
 So you can see why it is well for most plants to 
 shed their leaves before winter comes on and the root's 
 drinking water is turned into ice. 
 
185 
 
 But when a plant is about to shed its leaves, it takes 
 care not to waste the precious food which they hold. 
 This food it draws back into its stem and roots, laying 
 it away in safe places beneath the buds which are to 
 burst another year. 
 
 It is this action on the part of the plant which 
 changes the color of the leaves every fall. That mate- 
 rial which makes them green is broken up, and part 
 of it is taken away. That which is left is usually 
 yellow or brown or reddish, and gives the leaves the 
 beautiful colors we see in our October woods. 
 
 So whenever you see the woods changing color, 
 losing their fresh green and turning red and yellow, 
 you can be sure that the trees have begun to prepare 
 for winter. You know that they are stowing away 
 their food in warmer, safer places than can be supplied 
 by the delicate leaves. And when all the food has 
 been drawn out of the leaves, and packed away in 
 the right spots, then the plant finishes a piece of work 
 it began some time before. This piece of work is the 
 building-up of a row of little cells just where the leaf- 
 stalk joins the stem or branch. When this row is com- 
 plete, it acts almost like a knife, loosening the stalk 
 from the stem. 
 
 Then the leaf's life work is over; and with the first 
 breeze, the emptv shell, which is all that is left, breaks 
 away from the parent plant, and drifts earthward. 
 
Part VI — Flowers 
 
 >**:< 
 
 THE BUILDING PLAN OF THE CHERRY 
 BLOSSOM 
 
 ONE day your teacher brought to school a branch 
 broken from the cherry tree. This she placed 
 in water, standing the tumbler on the sunny window 
 sill ; and now its buds have burst into a glory of white 
 blossoms. 
 
 To-day I want you to study the flower of the cherry ; 
 for if you know all about this flower, which is put 
 together in a rather simple way, one that is easy to 
 study, it will not be so difficult for you to understand 
 other, less simple flowers. 
 
 You may wonder why I do not wait till the cherry 
 tree outside is in blossom ; but if we waited till May, 
 other flowers, which are not built on quite so simple a 
 plan, would have come and gone, and you would not 
 have been able to understand them so well as if you 
 had first studied the simple make-up of the cherry 
 blossom. 
 
 Last fall we learned a little about this flower, but we 
 had only its picture to help us in our work : so I think 
 it well to begin all over again. 
 
 187 
 
In looking at the cherry blossom (Fig. 160), we 
 should first notice the green cup which holds the rest 
 of the flower. 
 
 This cup is divided into five green leaves. 
 During the babyhood of the flower, when it was 
 quite too young to face the cold, windy world, these 
 green leaves were folded together so as to shut away 
 from all harm its more delicate parts. 
 
 Above this green cup we see a circle made up of five 
 white leaves. These pretty leaves are spread outward 
 as if they were quite proud of themselves, and eager to 
 attract attention. 
 
 And that is just what they are try- 
 ing" to do ; for the cherry blossom is 
 not wise enough to know that here in 
 the schoolroom there are no bee visi- 
 tors to bring it yellow dust, and to 
 help it grow into a cherry. These 
 leaves are the little handkerchiefs 
 cherry tree, just like the apple tree we 
 long ago, uses in signaling the bees. 
 Within the circle of white leaves you see a quantity 
 of what we named "pins with dust boxes." You re- 
 member that these dust boxes hold the powdery mate- 
 rial which is as wonderful as Cinderella's fairy godmother 
 in its power to do strange and surprising things. 
 
 And in the very center of the flower you find a 
 single " pin," as we called it, with a flat top which is not 
 a dust box. 
 
 But you remember that at the foot of this pin is 
 another sort of box, a seedbox (Fig. 1 6 1 ). 
 
 which the 
 read about 
 
And you have not forgotten that it is on the fiat 
 top of this pin that the bee brushes the yellow dust 
 which gives new life to the seed below, and turns the 
 little case of the seedbox into the juicy cherry. 
 
 So now what do we find in the cherry blossom? 
 We find 
 
 i. A green cup cut above into separate leaves, 
 
 2. A circle of white leaves. 
 
 3. Some pins with dust boxes. 
 
 4. One pin with a seedbox. 
 
 Here you have the plan on which the cherry 
 blossom is built (for flowers, like houses, 
 are built on different plans), and the build- 
 ing plan of the cherry blossom is one of the 
 simplest of all. So it is well, before study- 
 ing more difficult flowers, to feel quite at 
 home with this one. And you must try FlG ' T : 
 
 to remember first what work each part of the flower 
 is expected to perform; for you see that the leaves 
 of the green cup, the pretty white leaves, the pins 
 with dust boxes, and the pin with a seedbox, have 
 each and all their special task, — a task which they 
 alone are able to accomplish. 
 
 Now, in talking about a flower it is troublesome 
 to use a great many words where one would answer 
 every purpose, so I will tell you what these different 
 parts of the flower have been named ; and by taking 
 a little trouble to remember these names, we can 
 save a good deal of time. 
 
 The green cup is called the " calyx." 
 
 " Calyx" is a Greek word meaning "cup." 
 
190 
 
 The circle of leaves which grow above the green 
 cup or calyx is called the " corolla." 
 
 " Corolla " comes from a word which means " crown." 
 The pins with dust boxes are called "stamens." 
 "Stamen" comes from a word meaning "to stand." 
 The pin with a seedbox is called the "pistil." 
 "Pistil" is another form of the word "pestle." A 
 pestle is an instrument used in the drug shops for 
 pounding and mixing medicines. You might ask to 
 look at one the next time you are sent to the drug 
 shop, and then you can see for yourselves if it really 
 looks like its namesake, the pin with a seedbox. 
 
 Perhaps at first you may find it a little difficult 
 to bear in mind these four words with their meanings ; 
 but soon they will become quite easy, and will save 
 you much trouble. 
 Green cup, — calyx. 
 Circle of flower leaves, — corolla. 
 Pins with dust boxes, — stamens. 
 Pin with seedbox, — pistil. 
 
 If you remember the names of these four parts of 
 the flower, how the different parts look, and what 
 they do, you will have made a good start in the 
 study of flowers. 
 
I9i 
 
 LILIES 
 
 1 THINK most of you know by sight at least one 
 of the three following flowers. 
 I have asked for pictures of three 
 different kinds of lilies, so 
 that the city and country 
 children alike may 
 recognize an old 
 friend; for every 
 spring the white Easter 
 lily (Fig. 162) stands outside 
 the flower shops, and deco- 
 rates the churches, and trav- 
 els through the streets in the peddler's cart; while in 
 summer time the country is bright with the wood 
 and meadow lilies (Figs. 163, 164). 
 
 And I hope that even now one of 
 the living blossoms is before you, for 
 I want you to see for yourselves what 
 plan these lilies use in flower building. 
 The building plan of the cherry, 
 you remember, began with a green 
 cup or calyx. 
 
 Do you find in the lily any green 
 cup? 
 
 No, there is nothing of the sort in 
 the lilies. You see only a circle of 
 In the last chapter you learned to call 
 such a circle the corolla. But the wise men say that 
 
192 
 
 Fig. 164 
 
 without a calyx there cannot be a real corolla. So 
 in the lily we will speak of the "flower leaves" in- 
 stead of the corolla. 
 
 Next we find six of the pins with dust 
 boxes, or the stamens. 
 
 And then we come to the pin with a 
 seedbox below, or the pistil. 
 
 So the building plan of the lily has only 
 three divisions : — 
 
 1. Flower leaves. 
 
 2. Stamens. 
 
 3. Pistil. 
 
 If you look at the lower side of the outer row of 
 flower leaves, you will see that they are 
 streaked with green; and that when the 
 flower is still in bud, only the green, 
 thick parts of these leaves are exposed 
 to the wind and cold, while the more 
 delicate parts of the blossom are hidden 
 almost as snugly as though they were 
 covered by the leaves of a green cup 
 or calyx. 
 
 These lilies are pleasant flowers to 
 study. Their different parts are so 
 large and simple that you have no 
 doubt as to what they are meant for. 
 The bees could hardly overlook their 
 great, showy handkerchiefs ; and the 
 heaping dust boxes must powder the 
 visiting bees so freely with golden or 'f Fio. 165 
 
 brownish dust, that plenty of this is sure to be carried 
 
193 
 
 to the pistil of a neighboring blossom; and the flat tip 
 of this pistil is so large and so sticky, that, once the dust 
 is brushed upon it, it is sure to stay there until its 
 wonderful work is accomplished. 
 
 The gay tulip (Fig. 165) is a cousin to the lily. 
 It is built on almost the same plan. There is no 
 green cup in the tulip ; but every tulip has 
 
 1. Flower leaves. 
 
 2. Stamens. 
 
 3. Pistil. 
 
 The tip of the tulip's pistil is divided into three parts. 
 
 L 
 
 ABOUT STAMENS 
 
 ET us take a good look at the stamens of the 
 Easter lily. There are six of these. Each dust 
 box is fastened to the tip of a tall stalk. Fig. 166 
 shows you a single stamen from the Easter lily. It is 
 drawn somewhat larger than life. Its box has opened, 
 and is letting out some grains of dust. 
 
 There are many different kinds of stamens. I will 
 show you some pictures that will give you an idea 
 of their great variety. Here is one taken from the 
 flower of the shin leaf (Fig. 167). The dust makes its 
 escape through two little openings at the very top of 
 the box. 
 
 That shown in Fig. 168 is from the barberry. The 
 sides of the box open like a door which is hinged on 
 Fig. 167 top. This arrangement lets out a quantity of dust. 
 
 DANA'S PLANTS. — I ^ 
 
 / 
 
 Fig. 166 
 
194 
 
 Here is a collection of stamens of different sorts. 
 Fig. 169 has two boxes at the top of its stalk, 
 and so has Fig. 171. Fig. 172 has a cross- m 
 piece, with a good-sized box at one end, and 
 only the little beginnings of a box at the 
 other. Fig. 170 has a similar crosspiece, with 
 a box at one end only. 
 
 You see that flower faces show quite as 
 Fig. 168 much variety as do the faces of the people F] 
 you know. You must not expect to find stamens all 
 alike, any more than you would expect all the boys and 
 girls you know to have noses of the 
 same shape, or hair of the same color. 
 
 Fig. 
 
 Fig. 171 Fig. 172 
 
 This picture (Fig. 173) shows you all the stamens of 
 the pea blossom. Do you notice that quite a number 
 of these (nine, in fact) grow together close 
 about the pistil, while the tenth one stands 
 alone ? That is a strange custom always 
 observed by the stamens of the pea. 
 
 Next we see all the stamens from one of 
 the tiny flowers of the golden-rod (Fig. 174). 
 These are very much larger than life. There 
 are five of them, fastened together in a sort 
 173 ;•; of tube. Split open this tube and flatten fig. 174 
 
195 
 
 it out. Now they look like five little sisters, arm in 
 arm (Fig. 175). 
 
 And here, again joined in a tube, we see the stamens 
 of the mallow (Fig. 176). From the hollow of this tube 
 stand out the tops of the mallow's pistils. 
 
 Some flowers have so many stamens that you would 
 find it almost impossible to count them. This little 
 
 Fig. 175 
 
 Fig. 176 
 
 Fig. 177 
 
 blossom (Fig. 177), the enchanter's nightshade (drawn 
 much larger than life), has only two. 
 
 I hope that you children, from now on, will be un- 
 willing to pass by a flower without looking to see 
 whether its stamens are few or many ; and I hope 
 you will try to carry away in your minds a clear idea 
 of the size and shape of their dust boxes. 
 
FLOWER DUST, OR POLLEN 
 
 WHEN a child smells a flower, he is 
 apt to put his nose right into the 
 middle of the blossom, and to take it out with 
 a dab of yellow dust upon its tip. 
 
 When he brushes off this dust, of course 
 he does not stop to think that each tiny grain 
 holds a speck of the wonderful material we 
 read about some time ago, the material with- 
 out which there can be no life. 
 
 And probably he does not know that the 
 dust grains from the lily are quite unlike 
 those which he rubs upon his nose when he 
 smells a daisy; that different kinds of flowers 
 yield different kinds of flower dust. 
 
 If you should look through a microscope 
 \ at a grain of flower dust from the lily, you 
 would see an object resembling Fig. 178. 
 
 Fig. 179 shows a grain from the 
 
 Ftg. 178 Ftg. 179 
 
 Fig 182 
 
i 9 7 
 
 pretty blue flower of the chicory. Fig. 180 is a dust 
 grain from the flower of the pine tree. Fig. 181 is 
 from the laurel, and the odd- 
 looking Fig. 182 is from a dust 
 box of the evening primrose. 
 
 The next picture (Fig. 183) Fig „ 
 
 shows you a group of dust 
 
 grains from flowers of different kinds, one looking 
 like a porcupine, another like a sea shell, another like 
 some strange water animal, and all, I fancy, quite 
 unlike any idea you may have had as to the appear- 
 ance of a grain of flower dust. 
 
 When you are older, I hope it may be your good luck 
 to see through a microscope some of the odd shapes and 
 curious markings of different kinds of flower dust, or 
 " pollen," as this flower dust is called in the books. 
 
 And now that you know something of the appear- 
 ance of flower dust, perhaps you wish to learn a little 
 more of the way in which it , helps the flower to 
 turn into the fruit. 
 
 B 
 
 ABOUT PISTILS 
 
 UT first you must know a little something about 
 
 the pistil, if I am really to make clear to you 
 
 how the flower dust helps the flower to change into 
 fruit. 
 
 This picture (Fig. 184) shows you the pistil of the 
 
 lily. At the foot of this pistil, you remember, is the 
 
 Fig. 184 box which holds the lily's seeds. 
 
The top of the lily's pistil is quite large and some- 
 what flat. It is almost as sticky as if it had received 
 a dab of glue. 
 
 This flat top dwindles below into a stalk, which 
 grows larger again at its lower end. 
 
 Now take a sharp knife and cut open lengthwise 
 this pistil. 
 
 The lower, thicker part, seen through a magnifying 
 glass, looks like Fig. 185. You see a great many baby 
 seeds fastened to a central wall. Each one of these 
 seeds holds a speck of the wonderful material without 
 which there is no life. But this speck of life has not 
 the power to make the seed grow into a plant. To do 
 this, the seed must have some outside help ; and this 
 help can come only from a grain of flower dust. 
 
 Perhaps you wonder how a dust grain brushed on 
 the pistil's flat top can ever reach the baby seeds 
 hidden away in the seedbox. 
 iL_A I could not tell you to-day how this is done were 
 Fig. 185 ^ n °t for those wise and patient men and women who 
 have spent days and weeks and months, and even 
 years, in watching and studying the ways of plants. 
 
 But first let me ask you a question. 
 
 What happens when a healthy seed falls on moist 
 ground ? 
 
 Why, it seems to take in the moisture, and to thrive 
 upon it. It swells up, and at last it bursts open, and 
 it sends a root down into the earth. 
 
 Now, something not altogether unlike this happens 
 when a lily dust grain falls upon the moist tip of a 
 lily pistil. The dust grain sucks in the moisture. It 
 
 g 
 
 v*Y/ 
 
199 
 
 Fig. 187 
 
 grows bigger and bigger. The outer skin becomes too 
 small for the swelling contents. At last it bursts open, 
 letting out a little tube. 
 
 This little tube works its way down through the 
 stalk of the pistil, almost as a root pushes down into 
 the earth, and at last it reaches one of the seeds in 
 the seedbox below. 
 
 And into this tiny seed the little tube pushes its way. 
 The tube has carried with it that speck of won- 
 derful living material which every dust grain holds 
 And when this living speck has been added to that k J 
 which the seed already holds, a great change begins 
 to come about. 
 
 This new touch of life, added to that already present, 
 gives the lily seed the power to grow into a lily plant. 
 The other dust grains that were brushed upon the 
 flat top of the lily's pistil act in just the same way. 
 Apparently without difficulty the different tubes find 
 their way to the different seeds, till at last each one 
 has received the fresh touch of life without which 
 it cannot grow into a lily plant. 
 
 I cannot show a lily dust grain in the act of 
 sending out its life-bearing tube ; but above is 
 a dust grain (Fig. 186) from the thorn apple. 
 You see that it has burst open, and that a tube 
 is pushing its way out. 
 
 This picture (Fig. 187) is that of a pistil seed- 
 box cut open, showing you a tube that is work- 
 ing its way from the dust grain above to a tiny 
 seed in the seedbox below. 
 
 As I told you in the last chapter, the name " pollen " 
 
 Fig. iSc 
 
200 
 
 has been given to this wonder-working flower dust. A 
 grain of flower dust is a grain of pollen. 
 
 In many flowers you will find a pistil much like the 
 one that you see in the lily. 
 
 But there are as many different kinds of pistils as 
 there are different kinds of stamens. 
 
 This pistil (Fig. 188) is from the grass of Parnassus, 
 that pretty white flower which you find in the wet 
 meadows in August and September. It has no real 
 stalk, you see, like that of the lily ; but it is quite thick 
 
 V 
 
 Fig. i 88 Fig. 189 Fig. 190 Fig. 191 Fig. 192 
 
 all the way from top to bottom. In Fig. 189 it is cut 
 across, showing the seeds inside. 
 
 Many pistils that are joined in one piece below, where 
 the seeds are held, separate above into two or more 
 parts. Fig. 190 shows the seed holder of a saxifrage, 
 divided into two pieces above ; Fig. 191 gives that of 
 the Saint John's-wort, separating into three parts ; that 
 of the sundew (Fig. 192) separates into six parts. 
 Fig. 193 is a section of the pea flower. This is cut 
 lengthwise so as to show you the seeds which line the 
 inner surface of the pistil. Here you have the baby 
 pea pod. 
 
201 
 
 All these flowers have only one real pistil, — one 
 pistil which may persuade you, by the way in which it 
 separates above, into thinking that there are 
 more than one. So you must be on your 
 guard in this respect, and remember that 
 flowers have a way of playing tricks with 
 all but the most wide-awake of boys 
 and girls. Look long and carefully 
 before you declare that a flower has 
 only one pistil. 
 
 Here we see half of a buttercup 
 (Fig. 194). The buttercup has a great 
 many entirely separate pistils. Look 
 sharply at the pic- 
 ture, and you will see them crowded 
 upon the little thimble-shaped ob- 
 ject in the middle of the blossom. 
 Do not confuse them with the 
 stamens, for the buttercup has also 
 a great many stamens. When but- 
 tercup time comes round, I want 
 every one of you to look at these many pistils and 
 stamens. 
 
 The next picture (Fig. 195) shows you a 
 strawberry. In the strawberry blossom the 
 pistils are so small, and so crowded, and so 
 hidden by the many stamens, that it is not 
 easy to see them ; and so I show you the full- 
 grown berry, with little pistils scattered all over 
 its surface. Each of those tiny objects which 
 
 Fig. 194 
 
 Fig. 195 
 
 stand out on the strawberry is a separate pistil. 
 
202 
 
 Whenever you look at a flower, I want you to 
 remember that its bright flower leaves will soon fade 
 and fall, and that its stamens will lose their pollen and 
 wither away, but that the pistil or pistils will remain, 
 turning at last into the ripened fruit, — the fruit which is 
 the end, the aim, the object, of the plant's life. 
 
 >^c 
 
 THE FIRST ARRIVAL 
 
 I SHOULD like to ask each of you children to tell 
 me what flower you believe to be first to come in 
 the spring. 
 
 Some of you have never stopped to think about this. 
 But there are sure to be a few among you who will 
 name one special flower as the earliest of the year. 
 
203 
 
 Perhaps even in March you may have ventured into 
 the woods to look for the lovely, fragrant, waxlike 
 blossoms of the trailing arbutus. You know the shel- 
 tered hollow where the snow first melts ; and there the 
 delicate pink flowers make you glad with their beauty, 
 and with the thought of the good time coming. To 
 some of us this first hunt for the arbutus is one of the 
 great events of the year. It means the beginning of 
 long, delicious hours in the fresh air, with birds and 
 trees and butterflies and wild flowers as our chosen 
 companions. 
 
 But not all of you will agree that this trailing arbutus 
 is the first spring flower. Many think the violet can 
 lay claim to this honor. The yellow violet especially 
 may be found in the woods before the trees have put 
 forth their leaves. 
 
 And some say that the little blue liverwort (some- 
 times this is pink or white) is the earliest of all ; and 
 others vote for the spring beauty, or for the yellow 
 adder's tongue, or for the Dutchman's breeches, or for 
 the anemone. 
 
 And still others say that the marsh marigold, the 
 shining flower that in April gilds the wet meadows, 
 leads the procession. 
 
 But you are wrong, every one of you. The earliest 
 blossom of the year makes its appearance long before 
 any of these flowers you have mentioned. 
 
 The first plant to blossom knows better than to pro- 
 claim the change of season by anything so fragile as a 
 violet, an anemone, a spring beauty. It sends out its 
 rather coarse little flowers under the protection of a 
 
204 
 
 tough waterproof hood, which shields them from the 
 rude winds and nipping cold. 
 
 This plant bears the ugly name of skunk cabbage 
 (Fig. 196). Its broken stem and leaves give out an 
 odor which at once persuades you that its title is 
 deserved. 
 
 In the swamps the skunk cabbages send up by the 
 dozen the curious purple hoods which curl about the 
 thick clusters of little flowers. When you come across 
 a colony of these queer-looking objects, no wonder it 
 never occurs to you that the first flower 
 of spring is at hand. The great shiny 
 hoods look more like snails than like 
 flowers ; and indeed usually the flowers 
 are not in sight at all, so well are they 
 shielded by these hood-like leaves. 
 
 But each little hidden flower has four 
 flower leaves, four stamens, and one 
 pistil. When they have been dusted 
 with pollen by fly visitors, and are preparing to turn 
 into fruit, the purple hoods wither away. Then the 
 plant sends up clusters of large bright green leaves. 
 In June you see these great leaves everywhere in the 
 wet woods. 
 
 So if you wish to be on hand to welcome the very 
 first flower of the year, you must begin to keep your 
 eyes open by the end of February. You must visit the 
 swamps each day, and look for the purple hoods inside 
 which are snugly hidden the little blossoms of the 
 skunk cabbage. 
 
 And I advise you now to take a sheet of paper and 
 
 Fig. 196 
 
205 
 
 make a list of the plants as you find them in flower. 
 Put down the date of each blossom as it appears, and 
 the place where you find it. If you begin to do this as 
 children, and keep it up when you are older, you will 
 take real delight in the habit. Each year it will interest 
 you more and more to turn back to the old lists and 
 discover whether the flowers are on time, or whether 
 they are late or early in making their first appearance. 
 
 I hope your teacher will start you at once with such 
 a list ; for the sooner you begin, the more complete will 
 be your pleasure in this delightful season. 
 
 sXKc 
 
 PUSSY WILLOWS 
 
 SOON after the 
 bage has sent 
 hoods comes the 
 pussy-willow 
 
 skunk cab- 
 up its purple 
 
 season. But it is not 
 
 every child who has the luck to be in 
 
 the country at this time. 
 
 There is a clean, sweet smell in the air. Down 
 
 in the boggy meadow, just before nightfall, the 
 
 little frogs sing so loud that you wonder if they 
 
 are trying to make you believe the birds have come back. 
 
 The brook is getting a bright green border. The 
 
 buds on the trees are so big that you feel sure in a few 
 
206 
 
 hours they must burst open. And you know that each 
 new day may bring with it some happy surprise, — a 
 bird, a leaf, or a flower that you have not seen for many 
 a long month. 
 
 So when you find the willow branches set thick with 
 silken pussies, you know that a happy time has begun, 
 at least for you country children. 
 
 And even the city children learn to love these soft 
 pussies when they are placed in tall vases on the teach- 
 er's desk. 
 
 If you look carefully at the different branches, you 
 see that they bear different kinds of pussies ; and 
 your teacher will tell you, or perhaps you will dis- 
 cover yourselves, that these different branches were 
 broken from different trees. 
 
 Do you know what each "pussy," or tassel, is 
 made up of ? 
 
 Each tassel is made up of many tiny flowers. 
 Fig. 197 g ut w ir| ow flowers are built on quite a different 
 
 plan from cherry flowers. If you pick apart one of 
 these tassels, and examine a single blossom, you will 
 find it hard to believe that it is a flower at all. 
 
 On one branch the tassels are all golden yellow. 
 The flowers that make up these yellow tassels have 
 neither flower leaves nor pistils. Each blossom has 
 two stamens which are fastened to a little fringed leaf, 
 and nothing more. Such a flower, much magnified, is 
 given in the picture (Fig. 197). The golden color comes 
 from the yellow pollen which has been shaken from the 
 dust boxes. 
 
 The other branch is covered with silvery green 
 
207 
 
 tassels. Each flower in these tassels is made up of a 
 single pistil, which is also fastened to a little fringed 
 leaf (Fig. 198). 
 
 So you see the building plan used by one kind of 
 pussy-willow flowers is nothing but two stamens ; 
 while the plan used by the other kind is still 
 simpler, it is nothing but one pistil. 
 
 The golden dust is carried by the bees from 
 the willows which bear dust boxes to those other 
 willows whose flowers have only seedboxes. 
 
 When they have given to the bees their pollen, 
 the yellow tassels fade away; but the silvery 
 green tassels, on account of their seedboxes, grow 
 large and ripe, turning into the fruit shown in Fig. 
 62, p. 61 ; and this fruit is one of the kind which 
 scatters its seeds abroad by fastening them to silky 
 sails. 
 
 &*< 
 
 ALDERS AND BIRCHES 
 
 THERE is another shrub or low tree growing along 
 the brook's edge which flowers almost as early as 
 the willows. 
 
 This is the alder. 
 
 Perhaps you noticed last fall that these alders were 
 hung with a quantity of little green tassels. These 
 tassels did not fall off with the leaves in November. 
 Through the long winter they clung to the shrub 
 Sometimes they wore little coats of ice which made 
 
208 
 
 them look like the glass ornaments on a Christmas 
 tree. 
 
 When the warm weather came, they put off their ice 
 coats, and grew larger and longer, 
 and at last let out a quantity of 
 stamens. 
 
 But on the same alder tree that 
 bears these tassels with flowers 
 made up of stamens or dust boxes 
 (Fig. 199, a), you find also the tassels 
 flowers made up of pistils (Fig. 199, b). 
 you make a search, you will 
 the little upright clusters 
 composed of these flowers with pistils. 
 
 Late in the year, when these 
 
 clusters have turned into fruit, they 
 
 look like this picture (Fig. 200). 
 
 The pretty birches are cousins 
 
 to the alders, and keep house in 
 much the same way, bearing the 
 tassels with stamens (Fig. 201, a) 
 and the little clusters made up of 
 flowers with pistils (Fig. 201, b) on the 
 same tree. 
 
 The tassels on some of the birches are 
 very beautiful. When full grown, they are 
 golden yellow, and so long and soft and 
 ;raceful that one feels like stroking them 
 and playing with them as he would with a 
 kitten. 
 Fig. 201 I hope every country child who reads 
 
 Fig. 200 
 
209 
 
 this book and does not already know the willows, the 
 alders, and the birches, will make their acquaintance 
 
 this spring, and will 
 kinds of flowers, 
 branches from the 
 be brought into the 
 that all can see these 
 among the very earli- 
 
 examine their two 
 And I hope that 
 different trees will 
 city schoolroom, so 
 flowers, which are 
 est of the year. 
 
 3»<C 
 
 M 
 
 THE GREAT TREES 
 
 OST people seem surprised to learn that all kinds 
 of trees have flowers. In March and April they 
 go to the woods in search of the trailing arbutus, the 
 violet, the anemone ; and when they have picked a 
 quantity of these, they come home and say, " These are 
 the only flowers we saw to-day." 
 
 But if they had looked overhead, up into the trees, 
 they would have seen many more ; for each tree has its 
 own flower, and most of the trees blossom very early in 
 
 DANA'S PLANTS. 1 4 
 
210 
 
 Fig. 
 
 the year, before they put out their leaves. There is a 
 good reason for this, which I will tell you by and by. 
 One of the early trees to flower is the swamp 
 maple. In March or April its bright red blossoms 
 tinge the wet woods with warm color. Sometimes 
 the snow lies thick on the ground at this season, and 
 the little red flower clusters fall, and look wonder- 
 fully pretty against the smooth white sheet 
 which is drawn beneath the trees. 
 2 At the same season, in our city parks and 
 streets, sharp eyes will discover the yellowish 
 blossoms of the silver maple. Both of these trees 
 flower before they leaf. 
 
 The building plan used by maple flowers is 
 rather confusing. In one flower you will find 
 both calyx and corolla, but not in another. One 
 
 blossom will have both stamens and 
 
 pistils, another will have no pistils. 
 
 Fig. 202 shows you a blossom from 
 
 the sugar maple. It has stamens, but no 
 
 pistils. Next you see what was once a flower 
 
 Fig. 204 containing both stamens and pistils ( Fig. 203 ) . 
 
 The withered stamens can still be seen ; and the 
 
 pistil is turning into the well-known maple key. 
 
 The great elms also put out their flowers be- 
 fore their leaves. Here you see a flower clus- 
 ter from the white elm (Fig. 204). Fig. 205 
 shows you one of these little flowers enlarged; 
 and in Fig. 206 you have the blossom cut open 
 so as to display its pistil, which grows into the winged 
 fruit you saw on p. 62. 
 
 Fig. 20 
 
 Fig. 20c 
 
211 
 
 In some of our city streets grows the poplar. Its 
 flowers are crowded into long green tassels. Many 
 of these fall to the pavement below, and lie there, 
 looking like great caterpillars. These tassels are 
 those which bear the flowers with stamens. Now, 
 if we were in the woods, we should be pretty sure 
 to find near by another poplar whose tassels 
 do not fall so quickly. This is because these are 
 made up of flowers with pistils. They cling to 
 the tree not only till they have been powdered 
 with pollen from the neighboring poplar, but till their 
 tiny seeds have had time to ripen and are ready to start 
 out on their life journey. 
 
 »o^oo — 
 
 THE UNSEEN VISITOR 
 
 I PROMISED to tell you why so many of the trees 
 flower before they leaf. 
 
 Many of these tree blossoms are neither bright 
 enough to attract the attention of the bees and butterflies, 
 nor so fragrant as to tempt the passing insects to visit 
 them ; for when the flower handkerchiefs are not large 
 and bright enough to signal the bees, the blossom often 
 gives notice of its presence by a strong perfume. How, 
 then, is the pollen from one flower to reach the pistil of 
 another? And especially how can this be arranged 
 when the flowers with pollen may live quite a way off — 
 on another tree, in fact — from the flowers with pistils? 
 
 " Perhaps the birds carry it," suggests some child. 
 
212 
 
 But if these little flowers are not beautiful enough, or 
 sweet-smelling enough, to please the bees and butter- 
 flies, it is hardly probable that the birds will pay them 
 any attention. 
 
 So let us go out into the woods with our eyes and 
 our ears wide open, and see if we can discover some 
 flower visitor that does not ask for fine clothes and 
 sweet smells. 
 
 Through the bushes comes the lisp of the song spar- 
 row. From overhead falls the note of the bluebird. 
 The bees are buzzing about the golden willow tassels. 
 On the top of an old tree trunk a butterfly is drowsing 
 in the sun's rays. But already we know that neither 
 bird, nor bee, nor butterfly will go out of its way to help 
 our pale, scentless little tree blossoms. 
 
 A squirrel darts from under cover, and runs along 
 the stone wall. Among the dead leaves at our feet a 
 little striped snake lies in a sluggish coil. But squirrel 
 and snake would be alike useless as flower visitors. 
 
 We are almost tempted to give up trying to guess the 
 answer to the riddle. Somewhat discouraged, we stop 
 to rest on an old log overgrown with delicate mosses. 
 
 A soft, sighing sound creeps through the pines at 
 the foot of yonder hill. Over the little hollow sweeps 
 a gust of wind. A faint cloud, as of dust, fills the air. 
 One of the children begins to sneeze. Where can the 
 dust come from? The roads are still deep with mud. 
 And, besides, ordinary dust does not make us sneeze 
 as though it were pepper. 
 
 Ah, my friend, you are getting warm, very warm 
 indeed; for this dust is no dried earth from the high- 
 
213 
 
 road. No, it is made up instead of golden grains from 
 the dust boxes that are swaying in the wind on yonder 
 trees. And as the trees just now are bare of leaves, 
 the journey of the pollen through the air is an easy 
 matter. It is carried along by the wind, settling here, 
 there, and everywhere, sometimes in our throats and 
 noses in such a fashion as to make us sneeze, but also 
 on the tops of many little pistils whose seeds cannot 
 ripen without its gift of new life. 
 
 And so, although we have not seen the visitor who 
 befriends these little flowers that are neither beautiful 
 nor fragrant, we have heard his voice as it came whis- 
 pering through the pines ; and we know that this 
 whisper is the gentle voice of the wind. 
 
 Now you understand that it is well for those trees 
 whose flowers depend upon the wind for their pollen, 
 to blossom before their leaves are out, and thus likely to 
 interfere with the pollen in reaching its destination. 
 
214 
 
 PLANT PACKAGES 
 
 ON your walks through the woods these 
 spring days I want you to notice the 
 neat and beautiful way in which 
 plants do their packing; for the 
 woods now are full of plant 
 packages, — little bundles of 
 leaves and flowers, done up 
 with the greatest care. 
 
 Some of these have just 
 appeared above the ground. 
 Others have burst from the 
 branches of the trees and shrubs. 
 Of course, a plant does 
 r-^gfesPk: n °t hk e to send its young, 
 Fig. 207 delicate leaves and flowers 
 
 into the cold world without wrapping them up, any 
 more than your mother would like to send your baby 
 brother out for the first time without a great deal of 
 just such bundling-up. 
 
 And so well wrapped are many of these plant babies, 
 that it is not an easy matter to guess just what they are, 
 what kinds of leaves and flowers will appear when the 
 wrappings have been thrown aside. 
 
 Sometimes the package looks like the sharp-pointed 
 object in the picture at the head of this chapter (Fig. 
 207). Soon the leaves push their way out of their 
 papery envelope, and before long our friend Jack-in-the- 
 pulpit himself appears. 
 
215 
 
 Sometimes it is such a woolly roll as you see in the 
 next pieture (Fig. 208). This roll soon un- 
 curls into a pretty fern (Fig. 209). 
 
 The beech tree folds its leaves like fans 
 (Fig. 210). The preceding picture (Fig. 211) 
 shows you how carefully and cleverly the 
 hobblebush packs its young 
 leaves. 
 
 During their babyhood 
 many leaves wear a hairy 
 coat as a protection from both 
 cold and heat ; but when their 
 green skin becomes thicker, they 
 throw this off. 
 
 Most of these plant packages 
 are very interesting and beautiful, 
 
 and well worth your attention. I wish that during 
 
 these weeks of early spring the country 
 
 schools would hold exhibitions of these 
 
 babes in the woods, asking each child m 
 
 to bring what he considers a 
 
 good specimen of a plant 
 
 package. 
 
 A 
 
 9 
 
 Fig. 2ii 
 
 Fig. 21c 
 
2l6 
 
 UNDERGROUND STOREHOUSES 
 
 LONG ago we learned that certain plants stow away 
 the food which they are not fitted to use at the 
 time in those thick underground stems which most 
 people call roots. 
 
 This food they hold over till the next year. 
 
 It is often a surprise, these spring days, to see how 
 suddenly a little plant will burst into blossom. One 
 does not understand how it has had time to get up such 
 a display. Had it been obliged to depend for food upon 
 new supplies taken in by its roots and leaves, the flower 
 would have put off its first appearance for many a day. 
 
 So when a plant surprises you with any such sudden 
 and early blossoms, you can be pretty sure that its food 
 supply has been on hand all winter. 
 
 Both in the garden and in the woods you can see for 
 yourselves that this is so. In the garden perhaps the 
 earliest flower to appear is the lovely little snowdrop. 
 The snowdrop's food is stored away in the "bulb," as 
 we call its thick, underground stem, which lies buried 
 in the earth. 
 
 The other early garden flowers, such as the hyacinth, 
 crocus, daffodil, and tulip, are able to burst into beauti- 
 ful blossoms only because of the care and labor with 
 which they laid by underground provisions last year. 
 
 And in the woods at this season you find the yellow 
 adder's tongue, spring beauty, anemone, wake-robin, 
 Jack-in-the-pulpit, wild ginger, and Solomon's seal. 
 Each of these plants has stores of food hidden in its 
 
217 
 
 underground stem. This may take the shape of a bulb, 
 or a tuber, or a rootstock ; but in any case it shows you 
 at once that it is a little storehouse of food. 
 
 A collection of the different kinds of underground 
 stems which serve as storehouses for the early-flowering 
 plants would be quite as interesting to work over as a 
 collection of plant packages. 
 
 >>«*:< 
 
 DIFFERENT BUILDING PLANS 
 
 THIS morning let us take a stroll in the woods with 
 the idea of noticing the different building plans 
 used by the early flowers. 
 
 First we will go to the spot where we know the trail- 
 ing arbutus is still in blossom. Pick a spray, and tell 
 me the plan of its flower. 
 
 " There is a small green cup, or calyx, cut into five 
 little points," you say ; " and there is a corolla made up 
 of five flower leaves." 
 
 But stop here one moment. Is this corolla really 
 made up of five separate flower leaves ? Are not the 
 flower leaves joined in a tube below ? If this be so, you 
 must say that this corolla is five-lobed, or five-pointed, 
 not that it has five flower leaves. 
 
 " And there are ten pins with dust boxes, or stamens." 
 
 Yes, that is quite right. 
 
 " And there is one of those pins with a seedbox below, 
 one pistil, that is, but the top of this pistil is divided 
 into five parts." 
 
218 
 
 Well, then, the building plan of the trailing arbutus 
 runs as follows : — 
 i. Calyx. 
 
 2. Corolla. 
 
 3. Stamens. 
 
 4. Pistil. 
 
 So far, it seems the same plan as that used by the 
 cherry tree, yet in certain ways this plan really differs 
 from that of the cherry blossom. The calyx 
 of the cherry is not cut into separate leaves, 
 as is that of the arbutus ; and its corolla 
 leaves are quite separate, while those of the 
 arbutus are joined in a tube. 
 
 The cherry blossom has more stamens than 
 Fig. 212 the arbutus. Each flower has but one pistil. 
 But the pistil of the arbutus, unlike that of the cherry, 
 is five-lobed. 
 
 So, although the general plan used by these two 
 flowers is the same, it differs in important details. 
 
 Above you see the flower of the marsh marigold 
 (Fig. 212). Its building plan is as follows : — 
 
 1. Flower leaves. 
 
 2. Stamens. 
 
 3. Pistils. 
 
 This, you remember, is something like the building 
 plan of the easter lily. The lily has a circle of flower 
 leaves in place of calyx and corolla. So has the marsh 
 marigold. But the lily has six flower leaves, one more 
 than the marsh marigold, and only six stamens, while 
 the marsh marigold has so many stamens that it would 
 tire one to count them. 
 
219 
 
 And the lily has but one pistil (this is tall and 
 slender), while the marsh marigold has many short, 
 thick ones, which you do not see in the picture. 
 
 So these two flowers use the same building plan in a 
 general way only. They are quite unlike in 
 important details. 
 
 The pretty little liverwort and the delicate 
 anemone use the same building plan as the 
 marsh marigold. This is not strange, as all 
 three flowers belong to the same family. Fig. : 
 
 . The yellow adder's tongue is another lily. It is built 
 on the usual lily plan : — 
 
 i. Six flower leaves. 
 
 2. Six stamens. 
 
 3. One pistil. 
 
 The wild ginger (Fig. 213) uses the lily plan, inasmuch 
 as it has no separate calyx and corolla ; but otherwise it 
 is quite different. It has no separate flower leaves, but 
 one three-pointed flower cup. It has stamens, and one 
 pistil which branches at its tip. 
 
 The next picture (Fig. 214) shows you the seedbox, 
 cut open, of the wild ginger. 
 
 To find this flower, your eyes must be brighter than 
 usual. It grows close to the ground, and is usually 
 hidden from sight by the pair of round, woolly leaves 
 shooting up from the underground stem, which tastes 
 like ginger. This thick underground stem is the store- 
 house whose stock of food makes it possible for the 
 plant to flower and leaf so early in the year. 
 
 Fig. 215 shows you the pretty wake-robin. This 
 is a lily. But it is unlike the lilies we already know, in 
 
220 
 
 Fig. 215 
 
 that its calyx and corolla are quite dis- 
 tinct, each having three separate leaves. 
 It has six stamens, and one pistil with 
 three branches. 
 
 The general building plan of the violet 
 (Fig. 216) is the old one of calyx, corolla, 
 stamens, pistil. But the leaves of this calyx 
 (Fig. 217) are put together in a curious, ir- 
 regular fashion ; and the different leaves of the 
 corolla are not of the same shape and size 
 as in the cherry blossom. Then the five stamens of 
 the violet are usually joined about the stalk of the 
 
 Fig. 216 
 
 w 
 
 V ) 
 
 Fig. 217 Fig. 219 Fig. 220 Fig. 21! 
 
 pistil in a way that is quite confusing, unless you know 
 enough to pick them apart with a pin, when they look 
 like this picture you see above, to the right (Fig. 218). 
 The garden pansy (Figs. 219, 
 220) is cousin to the violet. You 
 notice at once that it uses just the 
 same building plan. 
 
 The wild geranium (Figs. 221, 
 222) is put together almost as 
 Fig. 221 simply as the cherry blossom. fig. 222 
 
Fig. 223 
 
 221 
 
 A more beautiful flower than the col- 
 umbine it would be difficult to find (Fig. 
 223). Its graceful hanging head and 
 brilliant coloring make it a delight to the 
 passer-by. 
 
 It has not the fragrance of some other 
 flowers, but for this there is a good 
 reason. 
 
 The columbine is so brightly colored that the nectar- 
 hunting bee can see it from a great distance. 
 
 It is only when a blossom is so small and faintly 
 colored as to be unlikely to attract the eye, that it 
 needs to make its presence known in some other way 
 than by wearing gay clothes. By giving out fragrance 
 it notifies the bee that material for honey making is on 
 hand. 
 
 So you see that a pale little flower with a strong 
 fragrance is just as able to attract the bee's attention 
 as is a big flower with its bright flower handkerchiefs. 
 A big flower with bright flower handkerchiefs does not 
 need to attract the bee by its perfume. 
 
 Perhaps you will be somewhat surprised to learn that 
 this columbine uses the old plan, calyx, corolla, stamens, 
 pistil. 
 
 In the columbine the calyx as well as the corolla is 
 brightly and beautifully colored, and only the botanist 
 can tell which is which. In this way many flowers con- 
 fuse one who is only beginning their study. So you 
 must try to be patient when you come across a flower 
 whose coloring and shape make it impossible for you 
 to say what is calyx and what is corolla. You should 
 
222 
 
 turn both over into the one division of flower leaves, 
 and when older you may be able to 
 master the difficulty. 
 
 The pretty fringed polygala (Fi< 
 224) is one of these confusing flower?. 
 You find it in the May woods. Its 
 discovery is such a delight, 
 that one is not apt to make 
 himself unhappy because 
 he cannot make out all its 
 parts. 
 
 The jewelweed (Fig. 225), 
 the plant which blossoms 
 down by the brook in Fig. 225 
 
 August, is another of these puzzling blossoms. 
 
 >>&<c 
 
 A CELEBRATED FAMILY 
 
 D 
 
 O you know this pretty 
 flower (Fig. 226)? 
 It is the yellow lady's slip- 
 per. It lives deep in the 
 woods of May, perhaps part way up 
 the mountain side. It has several sis- 
 ters. One of these is the pink lady's 
 slipper, which blossoms just a little 
 later. Another is the white lady's slip- 
 per. This comes late in June, and is one 
 of the loveliest of our wild flowers. 
 
223 
 
 These three sisters belong to a celebrated family, that 
 of the Orchids. 
 
 The Orchid family is noted for the beauty of its 
 flowers, and for the pains which these take to attract 
 the attention of the bees. 
 
 The building plan used by the orchids is too difficult 
 for you to learn yet awhile. Perhaps the orchids take 
 more trouble than any other flowers to have their pistils 
 well dusted with pollen. A good landing 
 place for the bee is provided ; signs are 
 hung out to point the way to the hidden 
 nectar ; and if directions 
 are followed, the pistil is 
 sure to receive the wished- 
 for pollen. 
 
 This picture (Fig. 227) shows 
 you an orchid which you see 
 in the windows of flower shops 
 during the winter. It comes to 
 us from far South, not grow- 
 ing out of doors in our climate. 
 
 Its building plan would almost serve for a wayside 
 tavern. You can see that the pocket would answer as 
 a front doorstep, making a convenient landing place 
 for bee or butterfly. 
 
 The dark spots on the upper flower leaf point down- 
 ward to the refreshment room. 
 
 Even more curious than this one are other orchids 
 which grow in far-away places. 
 
 In their efforts to please, they wear the most striking 
 colors, and take on a variety of fantastic shapes. 
 
 Fig. 227 
 
224 
 
 One of them dresses itself much like a bee. In this 
 way perhaps it secures a visit from the real bee. 
 
 Another is called the baby orchid, because in the 
 center of each flower is an object which really looks 
 like a fairy baby. 
 
 There are some ten or twelve orchids which are com- 
 mon in our Northern woods. I hope you children will 
 keep on the lookout for them all summer. 
 
 Just now you could not tell whether or not a flower 
 was an orchid. But if you come across a plant whose 
 flowers look as though they were built to serve as 
 wayside taverns for the bees, why, carry them to your 
 teacher, and ask her to find out for you whether they 
 belong to the Orchid family. 
 
 But it is only fair to tell you that some of our orchids 
 bear flowers so small and insignificant that you would 
 hardly guess them to be members of so distinguished 
 a family. 
 
CLEVER fpp© CUSTOMS 
 
 N this page you see a picture 
 of the garden foxglove. 
 The garden foxglove is an English 
 ild flower. It is so striking and 
 autiful that it was brought across 
 e sea to decorate our gardens. 
 We can guess that the spots within 
 each bell are the signposts leading to 
 the refreshment room. 
 
 The yellow false foxglove (Fig. 
 
 wm 
 
 #■ " ^flp 
 
 3k- 
 
 '*c 
 
 DANA'S PLANTS. 1 5 
 
 225 
 
226 
 
 228), which grows wild in our woods in midsummer, 
 is a less brilliant flower than its English cousin, and 
 is without the spots that serve as signposts. 
 ^^ Our wood and meadow lilies (Figs. 229, 230) are 
 ^mi we ^ fitted to secure bee visitors. Their colors 
 <8|Mfe are brilliant enough to catch the eye of the most 
 unobserving of bees in its voyage across 
 the meadow, and their spots vivid enough to 
 lead it at once to the re- 
 freshment room. 
 
 Try for yourselves to fol- 
 low these markings with 
 Fig. 228 your tongue, and you will 
 win the bee's reward, a sweet drop of 
 nectar. 
 
 Whenever you see a flower with 
 such vivid markings as these, it will 
 be worth your while to play the bee, 
 and start a honey hunt. 
 
 Sometimes the sweet drop lies at 
 the base of the flower leaves, as in the lilies; some- 
 times in a pocket, as in many of the 
 orchids; sometimes it is in the bottom of 
 a long spur such as you see in the colum- 
 bine, violet, and nasturtium (Fig. 231). 
 
 Fig. 232 shows you the beautiful flowers 
 of the mountain laurel. 
 
 These flowers play a clever trick on 
 their bee visitors. They wish to make perfectly sure 
 that their pollen will be carried from one blossom to 
 another, and so they set a little trap. 
 
 Fig. 229 
 
 Fig. 230 
 
227 
 
 In a freshly opened blossom each 
 stamen is bent over, as you see they are 
 bent over in the picture (Fig. 233). 
 
 Their dust boxes are caught in little 
 pockets of the flower cup. When a bee 
 lights on a flower (Fig. 234), the jar causes 
 the dust boxes to spring from the pockets 
 with so much violence that the pollen is 
 shaken over the body of the visiting bee, which 
 
 is sure to leave some of IG " 231 
 it on the pistil of the next flower. 
 Some flowers take special care 
 to prevent their pistils from 
 being dusted with pollen 
 from the dust boxes of the 
 same blossom. The fireweed 
 bears such blossoms as these. 
 In Fig. 235 you see that the 
 stamens of the fireweed are 
 Fig. 232 ] ar g e anc [ ripe, and ready to 
 shed their pollen ; but the pistil is bent sideways, IG " 233 
 
 pushing its closed tip quite out of the corolla, and out 
 of reach of any pollen from a neighboring 
 stamen. 
 
 Fig. 236 shows you another blossom from 
 
 Fig. 234 
 
 Fig. 235 
 
 Fig. 236 
 
228 
 
 this same plant. The stamens have shed their pollen, 
 and are quite dry and withered ; but its pistil has 
 straightened itself, and spreads out its 
 four tips so as to receive the pollen from 
 
 another flower. 
 Jgr It is believed that those seeds which 
 are touched with life by pollen from 
 another flower are more likely to 
 change into healthy, hardy plants 
 than those which are quickened by 
 the pollen of their own flower. 
 Such of you as live near the sea 
 know the lovely sea pinks (Fig. 237), 
 which make a rosy carpet across the 
 salt meadows early in August. The 
 stamens and pistils of this sea pink act in the same way. 
 
 Fig. 237 
 
 3>©4C 
 
 FLOWERS THAT TURN NIGHT INTO DAY 
 
 ALREADY we have read that certain flowers attract 
 insects rather by their fragrance than by their 
 brilliancy of coloring. 
 
 It is interesting to learn that some blossoms open 
 
229 
 
 usually only during the night. Of course, if these 
 flowers hope to receive visitors, and get their share of 
 pollen, they must devise some means of making known 
 their presence to those insects which are awake and at 
 work in the darkness. 
 
 You can understand that at night the brightest colors 
 would be useless. A red flower is less easily -^ 
 seen in the darkness than a white or a sS~\ 
 yellow one ; so night-opening flow- (^ f' 
 
 ers nearly always wear a white or X^'^'^v ^ 
 yellow dress. vT5^^^l!fe 
 
 And not only this: to make 
 sure that they will not be overlooked, and so 
 miss the chance of ripening their seeds, they 
 send out a strong fragrance as soon as the <?• 
 night falls. Through the deepest gloom this k 
 message of invitation reaches the wandering (j 
 moth. % 
 
 Do you know the evening primrose "^^S^i 
 (Fig. 238)? There ought to be nc need ^ 
 
 of asking you this, for it is one of our com- 
 monest wayside plants. But perhaps you have 
 hardly noticed it, because ordinarily only at 
 night is its flower wide awake. FlG - 2 3 8 
 
 When the sun has set, this pale yellow blossom un- 
 folds, and gives out a strong, sweet fragrance, which 
 means that it is "at home" to visitors. 
 
 After one short summer night it dies. 
 
 But during its little life the chances are that its invi- 
 tation has been accepted by the pretty pink moth which 
 oftentimes you find asleep in the faded flower cup. 
 
230 
 
 The moth visitor has brought its hostess the pollen 
 from another blossom, and has powdered the pistil's 
 four spreading tips, so that the little primrose seeds 
 below get the needed touch of life, and the short life 
 of the flower has not been in vain. 
 
 If you keep on the lookout, you are likely to come 
 across one of these yellow flowers with the sleepy pink 
 moth inside its cup. I have caught this little fellow 
 napping so often, that I have wondered if the nectar of 
 the evening primrose might not have the effect of a 
 sleeping potion. But after all, I suppose that pretty 
 pink moths, like boys and girls, are likely to be dull 
 and sleepy in the daytime if they have been up too late 
 the night before. 
 
 HORRID HABITS 
 
 DID you ever know that some plants manage to 
 attract insects in ways that are quite disgusting 
 to us human beings ? 
 
 While spending a morning in the woods, some of you 
 may have noticed an odor so unpleasant that you were 
 driven to find another resting place. 
 
 Perhaps you thought that this unpleasant smell was 
 caused by the decaying body of some dead animal ; but 
 had you known the truth, you would have laid the 
 blame where it rightly belonged. 
 
 And where was that, do you think ? 
 
 Why, to that beautiful climbing plant close by, with 
 large, thick leaves, and clusters of pale, greenish 
 
231 
 
 flowers, that were twisting all about the bushes. This 
 plant it was that caused all the disturbance. It is 
 called the " carrion vine " on account of the carrionlike 
 odor of its flowers. Its pollen is carried from one little 
 blossom to another by tiny flies, drawn to the spot by 
 a smell like that of decaying flesh. These flies would 
 pass carelessly over the sweet-smelling carpet of the 
 partridge vine, they would scorn the invitation of the 
 evening primrose ; but the odor which drives us hur- 
 riedly from our cozy corner induces them to gather 
 together in hundreds. Whether they come, actually 
 expecting to find decaying flesh, I cannot say. 
 
 In some countries grows a plant which not only 
 smells like decaying flesh, but which adds to the decep- 
 tion by its red, beefy look, thus doubly attracting the 
 flies which like this sort of food. 
 
232 
 
 THE STORY OF THE STRAWBERRY 
 
 i f 
 
 %i 
 
 N the wood which 
 edges the meadow 
 is a hollow where 
 it is almost sure 
 to be cool and 
 shady. Let us 
 find our way 
 there this morn- 
 ing, and see how we can 
 f amuse ourselves. 
 
 At first we want only 
 to enjoy the wind which 
 is coming through the trees, or to 
 lie back on the grass and spy out 
 which is singing overhead, or else 
 at the red squirrel which is scold- 
 ing away at a great rate just above us. 
 
 Suddenly our eyes fall on a cluster of ripe, shining 
 wild strawberries. Bird and squirrel are forgotten, for 
 no fruit of all the year is prettier to look at than the 
 wild strawberry ; and, what is more important, no other 
 fruit has such a delicious flavor of the woods and fields. 
 Soon we have eaten all the berries within reach. 
 The creeping vines lead us out into the meadow, where 
 we push aside the long grasses and pick one ripe 
 mouthful after another. At last we are satisfied to go 
 back to our shady nook. 
 
233 
 
 Fig. 242 
 
 The little white 
 blossoms that a 
 few weeks ago 
 were so plentiful 
 have nearly all 
 disappeared. 
 Who among 
 
 you can tell me FlG - 2 ^ FlG - 2 *° 
 
 how these juicy berries have managed 
 to take the place of the blossoms ? 
 
 Why, ever so many of you can tell me 
 much of the story, at any rate. It is 
 very nearly that of the apple and cherry 
 and plum and pear. The nectar-hunting bee 
 carried the pollen of its many stamens from 
 one strawberry blossom to another, leaving 
 some of it on the flat tips of its numerous pis- 
 tils. Down the pistils' stalks went the tiny life 
 bearing tubes which pushed their way into the 
 little seeds below. 
 
 So far, the story of the strawberry is not new 
 to us ; but just here it begins to differ from 
 the stories of the apple and pear, of the plum 
 and peach and cherry. The flowers of all these 
 trees had but one seedbox. But each of the 
 many little strawberry pistils has a separate 
 seedbox; and when the little seeds within get 
 their touch of new life, the flat, cushionlike 
 object (Fig. 241) which bears these many pistils 
 begins to act in a most surprising manner. 
 
 This flat flower cushion swells upward and outward 
 
 Ftg. 241 
 
 Fig. 243 
 
 Fig. 244 
 
234 
 
 (Fig. 242), growing big and juicy and sweet, bearing 
 its pistils (Fig. 243) with it. 
 
 And so in the strawberry blossom it is the flat cushion 
 hidden out of sight which grows into the delicious fruit. 
 
JKKti 
 
 W§j^ 
 
 A COUSIN ^ID^ OF 
 THE STRAWBERRY 
 
 HE strawberry is a mem- 
 ber cf the great Rose 
 family. Among its many 
 ^tj cousins we find the blackberry 
 y|? and the raspberry. 
 
 The blackberry blossom 
 (Fig. 245) also has five white 
 leaves, and a center made up 
 of pistils and stamens. 
 
 \\ •'" * When its white flower 
 
 JVNCXa 
 
 s^-^H leaves fall, and its empty 
 
 dust boxes wither, we see the 
 
 blackberry begin to take the 
 
 place of the blossom, just as 
 
 we saw the strawberry take the 
 
 place of the strawberry blossom 
 
 P\ (Fig. 246). 
 
 But now we are about to 
 
 discover the way in which the 
 
 blackberry differs from the 
 
 strawberry. 
 
 235 
 
236 
 
 Cannot some boy or girl tell me in what way they are 
 different ? 
 
 " One is black, and the other is red." 
 
 But that is not the answer I want. Perhaps it is 
 
 hardly likely that any child could guess what I have in 
 
 mind. Still a little exercise in guessing is 
 
 as good for your brains as gymnastics are 
 
 good for your bodies. 
 
 Now I will tell you what this difference 
 is ; and I want you to try and understand 
 it clearly, so that you will be able to ex- 
 plain it to others, for I doubt if the grown-. 
 * 24 -> up people could give any better answers 
 
 than you. I think your fathers and mothers will be 
 both surprised and pleased when you show them some 
 summer day how truly different are these two berries. 
 You remember that in the strawberry we saw plainly 
 that it was the flat flower cushion which swelled into 
 the ripe strawberry, — the cushion which was quite 
 hidden by the many pistils ; and though these pistils 
 were scattered thickly all over the ripe, red fruit, these 
 little pistils with their seedboxes were too small j^ 
 and dry to add flavor or richness to the berry. 
 
 But if we watch the growth of this blackberry, 
 we see that things are different. 
 
 We see that the pistils of this fruit do not remain Fig. 246 
 small and dry, as with the strawberry. No, indeed! 
 their little seedboxes grow bigger and juicier every day, 
 and they turn from green to red and from red to black. 
 They do not remain hard to the touch, but become so 
 soft that a slight pressure will bruise them and stain 
 
237 
 
 your fingers purple. And we enjoy eating the full- 
 grown blackberry (Fig. 249) because a quantity of 
 these juicy seedboxes are so packed upon the juicy 
 flower cushion that together they make 
 a delicious mouthful (Figs. 247, 248). 
 The flower cushion of the blackberry 
 
 Fig. 247 
 
 Fig. 248 
 
 Fig. 249 
 
 is long and narrow, not broad and flat like that of the 
 strawberry. 
 
 So do not forget that in the strawberry we enjoy 
 eating the ripened flower cushion, while in the black- 
 berry the juicy seedboxes give to the fruit more of its 
 size and flavor than does the flower cushion. 
 
 iff 
 
238 
 
 ANOTHER COUSIN 
 
 ERE we see a branch from 
 
 the raspberry bush (Fig. 250). 
 
 How is the raspberry unlike 
 
 both strawberry and 
 
 blackberry? Let us 
 
 place side by side these 
 
 three berries (Figs. 251, 
 
 252, 253). 
 
 Once more we observe that 
 
 the strawberry is the flat flower 
 
 cushion grown big and juicy. 
 
 Again we see that the seed- 
 
 boxes of the blackberry packed upon the swollen flower 
 cushion make up much of the fruit. 
 
 But in the raspberry we find that the red, ripe seed- 
 boxes alone make the berry which is so good to eat. 
 
 Fig. 251 
 
 Fig. 252 
 
 Fig. 253 
 
 When we pick this raspberry, we find that the flower 
 cushion remains upon the plant, instead of coming off 
 
Fig. 254 
 
 239 
 
 in our fingers and helping to make a luscious 
 morsel, as with the other two fruits (Figs. 254, 
 
 255)- 
 
 I hope you will remember how these three 
 berries differ one from another. 
 
 Why the blossoms of these three 
 plants grow into berries in three 
 different ways, we do not know ; but 
 our time has been well spent if we 
 remember that they do change in these three 
 ways. 
 
 The more we see and question and learn, the more 
 pleasure we shall find in our own lives, and the better 
 able we shall be to make life pleasant for others, 
 
 Fig. 255 
 
PEA BLOSSOMS 
 AND PEAS 
 
 HE Pea family is a 
 
 large one, and it is 
 
 our while to find out what 
 
 uses in flower building. 
 
 Let us look at a pea blossom 
 
 L and see of what parts it is made up. 
 
 ;;;J "There is the green cup, or 
 
 & calyx," you say. 
 
 Yes, that is plain enough. It is 
 cut up into five little leaves. 
 "And there is a circle of flower 
 leaves, which makes the corolla." 
 ^\ Let us pull apart both calyx 
 V.;\ and corolla, and place the sepa- 
 - -J- rate leaves as in the picture 
 (Fig. 256). 
 
 The five smaller leaves, the ones 
 marked ca, 
 are the green 
 of the calyx. 
 
 240 
 
241 
 
 The five larger ones, marked co, belong to the corolla. 
 These, you notice, are not all alike. The upper one is 
 much the largest. 
 
 The two side ones are alike. 
 
 In the real flower the two lower ones are joined so as 
 to form a little pocket. 
 
 And what else do you 
 find? 
 
 Now, if you do not 
 pull apart the pea blos- 
 som, you find nothing 
 else. But you know that 
 the seed-holding fruit is 
 the object of the flower's 
 life, and that so this 
 flower is pretty sure to 
 have somewhere either a 
 pistil with its seedbox, or 
 stamens with their dust 
 
 Fig. 256 
 
 boxes, or both; for without the seeds of the seedbox, 
 and the pollen of the dust boxes, no fruit can result. 
 So, knowing that the pea blossom cannot 
 give birth to a pea pod without stamens and 
 pistil, let us have a search for these. 
 
 As I told you, the two lower leaves of the 
 
 corolla are joined so as to form a sort of pocket 
 
 (Fig. 257). Now, surely, a pocket is meant to 
 
 hold something. So take a pin and slit open 
 
 this pocket. As the two sides spring apart, out 
 
 flies some golden pollen, and we see that the little pocket 
 
 is far from empty. It holds ten stamens and one pistil. 
 
 dana's plants. — 16 
 
 Fig. 257 
 
242 
 
 If you look at these carefully (Fig. 256), you see 
 that one stamen stands alone, while the other nine have 
 grown together, forming a tube which is slit down one 
 side. This tube clings to the lower part of the pistil. 
 
 Now, if you pull this tube away, what do you 
 see ? 
 
 You see a little, green, oblong object, do you not 
 (Fig. 258)? 
 
 And what is it ? Do you not recognize it ? 
 
 Why, it is a baby pea pod. Within it lie the tiny 
 green seeds (Fig. 259) which are only waiting for the 
 Fig. 258 fresh touch of life from a pollen grain to grow bigger 
 and bigger till they become the full-grown seeds of the 
 pea plant, — the peas that we find so good to 
 eat when they are cooked for dinner. 
 
 So, after all, the building plan of the 
 pea blossom is nothing but the old-fash- 
 ioned one which reads 
 
 1. Calyx. 
 
 2. Corolla. 
 
 3. Stamens. 
 
 4. Pistil. 
 
 Had I not told you to do so, I won- 
 der if you would have been bright 
 enough to pull apart the little pocket 
 and discover the stamens and pistil. 
 
 What do you think about this ? 
 
 Fig. 259 
 
243 
 
 THE CLOVER'S TRICK 
 
 HERE you see the bees buzzing about the pretty 
 pink clover heads, — the sweet-smelling clover that 
 grows so thickly in the fields of early summer. 
 
 Can you tell me what plan the clover uses in flower 
 building ? 
 
 You will not find this easy to do. Indeed, it is hardly 
 possible, for the clover plays you a trick which you will 
 not be able to discover without help. 
 
 You believe, do you not, that you are looking at a 
 single flower when you look at a clover head ? 
 
 Well, you are doing nothing of the sort. You are 
 looking at a great many little clover flowers which are 
 so closely packed that they make the pink, sweet- 
 scented ball which we have been taught to call the 
 clover blossom. 
 
 It is incorrect to speak of so many flowers as one; 
 and whenever we say, "This is a clover blossom," really 
 we ought to say, "These are clover blossoms." We 
 might just as well take a lock of hair — a lock made up 
 of ever so many hairs — and say, "This is a hair." Now, 
 
244 
 
 Fig. 260 
 
 you all know it would not be correct to do this, and no 
 more is it correct to call a bunch of clover blossoms 
 "a blossom." But as most people do not understand 
 this, undoubtedly the mistake will continue to be made. 
 
 Fig. 260 shows you one little flower taken out of 
 the ball-like clover head. 
 
 Can you think of any good reason why so many of 
 
 these little flowers should be crowded together in 
 
 a head ? 
 
 What would happen if each little blossom grew 
 
 quite alone ? 
 
 Why, it would look so small that the bee could 
 
 hardly see it. And sweetly though the whole clover 
 
 head smells, the fragrance of a single flower would 
 be so slight that it would hardly serve as an invitation 
 to step in for refreshments. 
 
 So it would seem that the clover plant does wisely 
 in making one good-sized bunch out of many tiny 
 flowers, for in this way the bees are persuaded to carry 
 their pollen from one blossom to another. 
 
 The moral of the clover story is this : Be very care- 
 ful before you insist that you hold in your hand or see 
 in the picture only one flower. 
 
 >^< 
 
 MORE TRICKS 
 
 CAN you think of any other flowers that deceive 
 us as the clover does ? 
 Early in May we see in the woods a tree that is very 
 beautiful. It is covered with what seem to be white 
 
245 
 
 for in- 
 
 blossoms. This tree is the flowering dogwood, and it 
 tricks us somewhat in the same way as does the clover ; 
 for in this picture (Fig. 261) you see what nearly every 
 one believes to be a single flower of the dogwood. 
 And if some time ago you had been asked to give the 
 building plan of the dogwood flower, you would have 
 been pretty sure to say that the four large white leaves 
 formed its corolla. 
 
 Here you would have been quite mistaken 
 stead of one large flower, the pic- 
 ture shows you a number of tiny 
 blossoms, so closely packed, and so If 
 surrounded by the four white leaves, 
 that they look like only one blossom. 
 
 Try to get a branch from the dog- 
 wood tree (only be sure to break it 
 off where it will not be missed), and 
 pull apart what looks so much like one large flower. 
 
 First pull off the four white leaves. Then you will 
 have left a bunch of tiny greenish blossoms. Look at 
 one of these through a magnifying glass. If eyes and 
 glass are both good, you will see a very small calyx, 
 a corolla made up of four little flower leaves, four mites 
 of stamens, and a tiny pistil, — a perfect little flower 
 where you never would have guessed it. 
 
 But all by themselves they would never be noticed : 
 so a number of them club together, surrounding them- 
 selves with the showy leaves which light up our spring 
 woods. 
 
 In Fig. 262 you see the flower cluster of the hobble- 
 bush. 
 
246 
 
 The hobblebush has still another way of attracting 
 attention to its blossoms. It surrounds a cluster of 
 those flowers which have stamens 
 and pistils, and so are ready to 
 do their proper work in the world, 
 . with a few large blossoms 
 which have neither stamens 
 nor pistils, but which are made 
 up chiefly of a showy white 
 corolla. These striking blossoms 
 serve to call attention to their 
 smaller but more useful sisters. 
 Sometimes a whole plant 
 family will play this trick of 
 putting a quantity 
 of flowers in one bunch or 
 cluster. 
 The wild carrot (Fig. 263) is one of our 
 commonest wayside weeds, a torment to 
 the farmer, but a beautiful plant 
 nevertheless. Each one of its lace- 
 like flower clusters is made up of 
 many flowers, — flowers which are too 
 small to live alone, and so have decided 
 to keep house together. 
 
 You will notice that here, as witl 
 hobblebush, the outer flowers are large: 
 more showy than the inner ones. They seem 
 to feel that with them* rests the reputation of 
 the family; that they must make the most of themselves, 
 and do all in their power to attract the bees and butterflies. 
 
 Fig. 262 
 
 Fig. 263 
 
247 
 
 The wild carrot belongs to the Parsley family. All 
 the members of this family collect a great many little 
 flowers into one fairly large cluster. 
 
 :>>*:< 
 
 AN OLD FRIEND 
 
 THERE is one plant (Fig. 264) which you city chil- 
 dren ought to know almost as well as the country 
 children. In the back yards and in the 
 little squares of grass which front the 
 street, it sends up its shining stars ; and as 
 for the parks, they look as if some gen- 
 erous fairy had scattered gold coins all 
 over their green lawns. 
 
 Now, what is this flower which is not too shy to bring 
 its brightness and beauty into the very heart of the 
 crowded city ? 
 
 It is the dandelion, of course. You all know, or 
 ought to know, this plucky little plant, which holds up 
 its smiling face wherever it gets a chance. 
 
 And now, I am sure, you will be surprised to learn 
 that this dandelion, which you have known and played 
 with all your lives, is among those mischievous flowers 
 which are laughing at you in their sleeves, and that 
 regularly it has played you its "April fool;" for, like 
 the dogwood and the clover, this so-called dandelion is 
 not a single flower. 
 
 No, what you call a dandelion is a bunch made up of 
 a great many tiny blossoms. 
 
248 
 
 If you pull to pieces a dandelion head, you will find 
 a quantity of little yellow straps. Each little strap is a 
 perfect flower. 
 
 Now, if you had been asked for the building plan of 
 the dandelion, you would have looked for the calyx, and 
 you would have thought you had found it in the green 
 cup which holds the yellow straps. 
 
 And when you were looking for the corolla, perhaps 
 you would have said, "Well, all these yellow things 
 must be the flower leaves of the corolla." 
 
 But when you began your hunt for stamens and 
 pistils, you would have been badly puzzled; and no 
 wonder, for these are hidden away inside the yellow 
 straps, the tiny flowers of the dandelion. 
 
 So remember that when you cannot find the stamens 
 and pistils within what you take to be the single flower, 
 you will do well to stop and ask yourself, " Can this be 
 one of the plants which plays tricks, and puts a lot of 
 little flowers together in such a way as to make us think 
 that they are one big flower ? " 
 
 D^C 
 
 THE LARGEST PLANT FAMILY IN 
 THE WORLD 
 
 THE dandelion belongs to the largest plant family in 
 the world. All the members of this family have 
 the dandelion trick of bunching together a quantity of 
 little flowers. From this habit the family takes its 
 name. It is called the " Composite " family, because with 
 
249 
 
 it, that which looks like one flower is composed of many 
 flowers. 
 
 To this great family belong some of the flowers which 
 you know best ; and if you are not to be fooled again 
 and again, you must learn to tell by its blossoms whether 
 a plant is a member of the Composite family. This 
 will not be difficult if you will be patient, and pull to 
 pieces a few of the flower heads which I am going to 
 describe, and examine carefully the 
 building plan used by the separate 
 flowers. 
 
 Fig. 265 shows you the field daisy. 
 This pretty flower is an old friend ; and 
 many of you know that its beauty is no com- 
 fort to the farmer, who finds it a sign of poor soil 
 and a nuisance, and does his best to get rid of it. 
 
 As you know, the central part of the daisy is 
 bright yellow, and the narrow leaves which stand FlG - 26 5 
 out in a circle around its yellow center are pure white. 
 
 Now, if I had asked you some time ago for the build- 
 ing plan of the daisy, I think you would have told me 
 that the arrangement of little green leaves underneath 
 the flower head made up the calyx, and naturally you 
 would have believed the white leaves above to have 
 formed the corolla ; and the chances are that the yellow 
 center would have seemed to be a quantity of stamens. 
 As for the seed holders, you might have said, " Oh, 
 well ! I suppose they are hidden away somewhere 
 among all these stamens." 
 
 It would not have been at all strange or stupid if you 
 had answered my question in this wav. 
 
250 
 
 I know of no plant which dresses up its flowers more 
 
 cleverly, and cheats the public more successfully, than 
 
 this innocent-looking daisy ; for not only does it deceive 
 
 boys and girls, but many of the 
 
 grown-up people who love 
 
 flowers, and who think they 
 
 know something about them, 
 
 never guess how they have been fooled 
 
 the daisy. Indeed, some of them 
 
 Fig. 266 will hardly believe you when you tell 
 
 them that when they pick what they call a daisy, 
 
 they pick not one, but a great many flowers; and 
 
 they are still more surprised when they learn that 
 
 not only the yellow center of the daisy is composed of a 
 
 quantity of little tube-shaped blossoms, but that what 
 
 they take to be a circle of narrow white flower leaves is 
 
 really a circle of flowers, each white strap being a 
 
 separate blossom. 
 
 I dare not try to tell you how many separate blos- 
 soms you would find if you picked to pieces a daisy and 
 counted all its flowers, — all the yellow ones in the 
 center, and all the white outside ones, — but you would 
 find a surprisingly large number. 
 
 The picture above (Fig. 266) shows you a daisy cut in 
 two, and next you have one of the white outer flowers 
 (Fig. 267). This flower, as we must call it, has a pistil, 
 but no stamens. The pollen is brought by flies from 
 the yellow central flowers to this pistil. 
 
 Here (Fig. 268) you see a picture of one of those 
 
 vellow flowers which have both stamens and pistil inside 
 iG.268- 7 r 
 
 its tube. 
 
 1 
 
251 
 
 If you children once make yourselves well acquainted 
 with the make-up of the daisy, seeing with your own 
 bright eyes (not believing it just because I tell you it is 
 so) that there are many little flowers where most people 
 think they see only one big one, you will never forget 
 it as long as you live ; and you will know something 
 that many of the big people about you do not know. 
 Some day while walking across the fields I think you will 
 enjoy surprising them by pulling to pieces a daisy, and 
 explaining to them this favorite flower trick. 
 
 >>©<C 
 
 ROBIN'S PLANTAIN, GOLDEN-ROD, 
 AND ASTER 
 
 ALONG the roadsides, in the month of May, grows a 
 l flower which you children call a blue daisy. This 
 has the yellow center of the 
 field daisy; but the narrow 
 outer flowers which sur- 
 round the yellow center are 
 not white, they are blue. 
 
 The real name of this 
 flower is "robin's plantain." 
 It is not a daisy, though it 
 belongs to the same big 
 family. Here, too, the yellow center is 
 made up of many little tube-shaped flowers. 
 
 Later in the year the fields are white and FlG ' 2 9 
 purple with beautiful asters (Fig. 269). It is easy to 
 
252 
 
 see that these asters are 
 own cousins to robin's 
 plantain. Their flower heads 
 are put together in the same 
 way, and many of the asters wear 
 the same blue or purple dress 
 (Fig. 269). 
 
 When once you have be- $M 
 come acquainted with the *4 
 secret of dandelion and 
 daisy and aster and robin's plantain, ^ 
 you will find it quite easy to dis- ^Jfef 
 
 cover their little separate JSgfSjg 
 
 flowers. All 
 
 have 
 
 large, 
 
 ei¥| 
 
 these plants -^tir?%V 
 plain flower 
 
 take. 
 
 of this great 
 
 Fig. 271 
 
 Fig. 272 
 
 heads that you cannot mis 
 But with some members \® 
 
 Composite family you are going % to have more 
 
 trouble, unless you take your time and keep your 
 wits about you. 
 
 Just when the asters begin to border the roadsides in 
 the month of August, the golden-rod (Fig. 270) hangs 
 out its bright yellow flowers. This golden-rod is one of 
 the plants which you may find a little troublesome ; for 
 its little flowers are so tiny, that even when a number 
 of them are fastened together in a bunch, the whole 
 bunch looks like a very small blossom (Fig. 271). 
 
 In each of these little bunches or heads (for when a 
 number of flowers are packed together in this way, we 
 call the whole bunch a "head ") there are a few of the 
 strap flowers (Fig. 272) on the outside, and a few tube 
 
- 7 53 
 
 flowers (Fig. 27^) in the center; but the outer strap 
 flowers are so small that you can hardly believe they 
 are really flowers, and the tube flowers look hardly 
 larger than ordinary stamens. To see them at all 
 clearly, you must use a good magnifying glass. 
 
 And you must search very patiently for the tiny 
 bunch (Fig. 271) which is the head of the golden-rod. 
 Next you must pick to pieces this little head, separating 
 the outer from the inner flowers. 
 
 In hunting for a single head in this great yellow 
 flower cluster, you must look for the little cup-like 
 arrangement, the tiny greenish or yellowish leaves; for 
 each head is held in one of these small cups. FlG - 2 73 
 
 Although the golden-rod is one of the most difficult 
 of all the flowers to understand, once you have seen for 
 yourselves how each little head is held in its tiny cup, 
 you will find it easy enough to pick out its single 
 flowers, and then you will have mastered the secret of 
 the golden-rod. 
 
ft 
 
 THE LAST OF THE FLOWERS 
 
 WE found, you remember, 
 that the dandelion head 
 was made up entirely of strap 
 flowers ; and we saw that the 
 daisy and aster and golden-rod were 
 made up partly of strap flowers, and 
 partly of tube flowers. 
 
 And here you have a great thistle 
 ;^MIIM^I head (Fig. 274). If you 
 should pull it to pieces, you would find 
 only tube flowers. 
 
 The Composite family always makes 
 up its head in one of these three ways, 
 using either nothing but strap flowers, or 
 nothing but tube flowers, or else using tube 
 flowers for the center of the head, and strap Fig. 274 
 flowers for the outside. 
 
 Now, I hope you will remember these three ways in 
 which this important family puts together its little flowers. 
 
 254 
 
255 
 
 J/£> 
 
 Fig. 276 
 
 When you go into the garden where a big sun- 
 flower (Fig. 275) is trying to peep into your neigh- 
 bor's yard, I hope your eyes will be (K/A 
 sharp enough to see that this sun- £^\ ''Ay ( ; ;i ! ^f^ 
 flower is a cousin to the field daisv, ^sJk % \\ { M 'i''Z- 
 and that, although its brown cen- 
 ter is much larger than the daisy's 
 golden eyes, it is made up of tube 
 flowers (Fig. 276) shaped much 
 like the tube flowers of the daisy. 
 
 And you will notice, I am sure, 
 that the yellow circle about this brown center is 
 made up of strap flowers (Fig. 277) just like the FlG - 
 white circle about the daisy center. 
 
 And what is that which falls like a golden shower 
 from the great brown center of the sunflower? Ah, 
 you know well that that is the precious pollen which 
 powders thickly the visiting bees and butterflies, and 
 goes to make new sunflower plants. 
 
 The picture at the head of this chapter shows the 
 wild sister of the garden sunflower. 
 
 When you come across the bright blue flower of 
 the chicory, you will be reminded, I hope, of your 
 dear old friend the dandelion; for the chicory head, 
 like that of the dandelion, is made up entirely of 
 strap flowers. 
 
 But when you pick a spray of everlasting, whose 
 white and yellow clusters you find on the rocky hill- 
 sides, you will have to use your eyes with great care 
 if you are to discover that here, as in the great purple 
 thistle head, are nothing but tube flowers. 
 
Part VII — Learning to See 
 
 A BAD HABIT » 
 
 IN fact, if you are to see any 
 of the things that are really 
 worth seeing, you must study the f 
 art of using your eyes. You must learn 
 to see. 
 
 This world is full of things that are 
 beautiful and interesting, things that do 
 not cost money, that can be had rf#$mA 
 
 { r ' 
 
 for the seeing. Mm. 
 
 School is nearly over now, and mr$ 
 during the weeks that lie before 
 you there will be many hours which you children can 
 call your own. 
 
 DANA'S PLANTS. — I 7 
 
 2 57 
 
2$8 
 
 I wonder what you will do with 'these holiday 
 hours ? 
 
 Of course, you will play a great deal; at least, I 
 hope you will, for we need play almost as much as we 
 need work. But one does not play every minute, even 
 in the holidays. I hope that all of you will spend a 
 part of your holidays in trying to be a little useful to 
 your mothers. 
 
 But even then there will be some time left for other 
 things, — things that are not work, and that are not 
 exactly play, yet that are a little of each, and so per- 
 haps better than either play or work alone. 
 
 Among these "other things" I hope "learning to 
 see " will find its place. I wish that every child who 
 reads this book would make a resolution that during 
 these coming holiday weeks he will "learn to see." 
 
 There are many different ways of doing this. The 
 children in the city can learn this great lesson as well 
 as those who live in the country. There is much to be 
 seen in the city besides people and houses, and horses 
 and wagons. There are the clouds of the sky by day, 
 and its stars by night. There are the trees in the 
 squares, the birds and flowers in the parks, and much 
 besides. 
 
 The children who live by the sea do not have the 
 great forest trees that grow among the mountains ; but 
 for this loss they can comfort themselves by the beauti- 
 ful rose mallows (see the picture at the head of this 
 chapter) that grow in the marsh, by the sea pinks along 
 the creek, by the pretty shells and seaweeds on the 
 beach. 
 
259 
 
 But perhaps you think I am quite wrong in taking it 
 for granted that you need to "learn to see." What 
 gives me the idea that you ought to learn any such 
 lesson ? 
 
 Well, nine times out of ten, if I hand a flower to a 
 child and ask him to look at it and then to tell me about 
 it, he will stare at it, oh, very hard indeed, for some 
 moments, and then he will have nothing to say. 
 
 Now, this cannot be the fault of. the flower; for we 
 have seen that the flower is made up of so many differ- 
 ent things that to tell about them all takes some time. 
 It must be the fault of the child ; or at least the fault of 
 his eyes and brain, both of which are needed for really 
 seeing, and which probably he does not know how to use. 
 
 It must be that he has never "learned to see." Per- 
 haps he has used his eyes well enough, and has really 
 seen a great many things in the flower ; but his brain 
 may not be able to put them together in the right way, 
 and to find the words that are needed. 
 
 If this is the only trouble, a little practice will make 
 it all right. He will find that his brain works better 
 after each trial, just as a new pair of scissors works 
 better after it has been used several times. 
 
 But often the eyes do not seem to do their share of 
 the work ; and if they do not, there is no chance for the 
 brain to come to their help. 
 
 That is a sad state of affairs, because, if when we are 
 young we let our eyes form bad habits, such as not 
 seeing the things they ought to see, we are likely to be 
 half blind all the rest of our lives. 
 
 It would be a terrible thins:, would it not, to be told 
 
26o 
 
 that you were about to become blind, that soon you 
 would be unable to see the things about you ? 
 
 Now, while I trust that none of you will ever become 
 altogether blind, I tell you honestly, I greatly fear that 
 some of you are in danger of becoming partly so, — of 
 becoming blind to many of the things about you that 
 would please you greatly if you only saw them. And I 
 know that this sort of blindness must take from your 
 lives much happiness. 
 
 But still you may wonder how I know this about 
 children whom I have never seen. How can I know 
 whether the boys and girls who read this are in any 
 danger of losing their power to see ? 
 
 Well, the only way I know about you boys and girls, 
 whom I have never seen, is by watching very carefully 
 the ones I do see. 
 
 You children who live in New York, say, have never 
 seen the children who live in California ; yet you feel 
 sure that they have eyes and ears just as you have, do 
 you not ? 
 
 And you are pretty confident that most of them like 
 to play far better than they like to work ; that some- 
 times they are good-natured, and that again they are 
 quarrelsome ; and that in many ways they are like the 
 boys and girls who live near you. 
 
 In just the same way I am able to guess that you 
 children whom I do not know are more or less like the 
 ones I do know. 
 
 Now, among these children only a few, as I have 
 said before, seem to have the full use of their eyes. 
 This troubles me, because the evil is one that arrows 
 
26l 
 
 greater as the children grow older. Perhaps you know 
 that if you stop using any part of your body, that part 
 soon begins to lose its power of doing the things it was 
 meant to do. 
 
 If you should not use your legs for a long time, they 
 would grow so weak that they could hardly carry you. 
 It would be much as if you had no legs, or at least as 
 if you had legs that could not do the work they were 
 meant to do. 
 
 If you stopped using your hands, you would find 
 your fingers growing stiffer and stiffer, so that at last 
 they could not take a good hold of things. 
 
 And if your eyes are not used for seeing clearly the 
 things before them, they will grow less and less able to 
 see clearly. 
 
 *oj^o* — 
 
 A COUNTRY ROAD 
 
 1HAVE taken a walk along a country road which 
 was bright with flowers of many kinds, where lovely- 
 colored butterflies and buzzing bees were hard at work 
 hunting for sweet stuff, where birds were singing in the 
 trees as they watched 'their nests, where a rabbit would 
 dart from the bushes close by, and a squirrel would scold 
 at me from overhead, — where, in short, there was so 
 much to look at and delight in, that I could hardly make 
 up my mind to keep on to my journey's end, instead of 
 stopping to see if I knew the names of all the flowers, 
 to admire the queer, bright-colored little patterns on the 
 wing of the butterfly which was resting on a neighbor- 
 
262 
 
 ing blossom, and to find out what sort of eggs were in 
 the nest that I knew must be near at hand, for the 
 mother bird let out her secret by her frightened clucking. 
 
 Well, I have taken just such a walk ; and on going 
 into the house I have felt as if I were obliged to put 
 aside a book of enchanting fairy stories, or rather as if 
 I were turning my back on fairyland itself, with all its 
 wonderful sights and sounds and adventures. 
 
 And then what has happened ? 
 
 Why, some child (it has not always been a child) has 
 come in, and I have said, "Was not that a fine walk? 
 What did you see along that lovely road ? " 
 
 Now, if he was a boy (for I want to be quite fair), he 
 probably had seen the rabbit and given it chase ; and it 
 is more than likely that he had stopped long enough to 
 chuck a stone at the squirrel ; and if the mother bird 
 had not finished with her foolish chatter, I fear he gave 
 her some evil moments by hunting for her nest, with no 
 good intentions. But if, fortunately for them, he had 
 met none of these creatures, he probably looked at 
 me in surprise, and answered by look, if not by words, 
 " No, I thought it a long, stupid walk. I did not see 
 a thing." 
 
 And if it was a girl, I fear the answer, silent or 
 spoken, was much the same. 
 
 Now, I say that boy or girl must have been partly 
 blind to have missed seeing those wonderful flowers, 
 and butterflies, and bees, and birds, and many other in- 
 teresting things which I have not time here to tell 
 about. Certainly they were not using their eyes prop- 
 erly ; and the longer they go about in such a way, 
 
263 
 
 more worthy of a bat than of a well-made child, the 
 more useless and bat-like will their eyes become. 
 
 It is really more natural for a child to use his eyes 
 constantly than it is for an older person. The grown-up 
 man or woman is likely to have so many things to think 
 about, that eyes and brain do not always work together, 
 and so the surroundings are not noticed. 
 
 For every boy knows that if his head is full of the 
 ball game he is going to play, he runs along without 
 eyes or thoughts for other things. 
 
 And every girl knows that if she is on her way to 
 some friend to whom she has a secret to tell, she is in 
 such haste to reach her journey's end, and is so busy 
 thinking what her friend will have to say about it all, 
 that of course there is no time to pay attention to any- 
 thing else. Her eyes may be in good working order, 
 yet they are not of much use unless her brain is ready 
 to help them ; and that little brain just now is too 
 busy with its secret. 
 
 No, by the people who are half blind I mean only 
 those who much of the time use neither eyes nor brain, 
 who can neither tell you what they have seen nor what 
 they have been thinking about. Sometimes it seems as 
 if such people were not only half blind, it seems as if 
 they were only half alive. 
 
264 
 
 A HOLIDAY LESSON 
 
 BUT I am in hopes that some of the children who 
 read this book will say, " I do not think it fair to 
 call children half blind and only half alive. I know I 
 am not half blind. I saw all those things that Mrs. 
 Dana saw along that country road, and " (perhaps some 
 of them may add) " a good deal more too. I know all 
 the different flowers by sight, and the sunny hollows 
 where the first ones come. I know where ever so many 
 of the birds build their nests, and how their different 
 eggs are marked and colored. Often I go down to the 
 little pool in the woods where they come for their bath. 
 I know how the caterpillars wrap themselves in leaves 
 and come out beautiful butterflies. I have peeped into 
 the hollow of the tree where the red squirrel is bringing 
 up its family ; and I have seen how the pretty green 
 katydid scrapes his wings along his sides, and makes 
 the sound, ' Katy did, Katy didn't,' and oh, so many 
 more things that I have not time to tell them all." 
 
 Ah! that is just it. The child that knows how to use 
 his eyes can see so much, so many wonderful things ! 
 
 That is why I am so anxious that he or she should 
 not miss through carelessness the revelations that come 
 to the child alone. 
 
 It seems as though the woods and fields were more 
 ready to tell their stories, to whisper their secrets, to 
 children than to grown people. If people learn to use 
 their eyes and ears only after they are grown, I hardly 
 think that they will ever read quite the same stories, 
 
265 
 
 ever listen to quite such wonderful secrets, as if they 
 had begun to look and to listen when they were little 
 children. 
 
 If fairy godmothers came now, as the stories tell us 
 they did once upon a time, to the christenings of our 
 little ones, offering whatever gifts the parents should 
 choose, it seems to me one of the wisest selections would 
 be the power to see. 
 
 And so when I ask you children, now that you are 
 putting by your lesson books for many weeks, to learn 
 one lesson this holiday time, — to learn to see, — I am 
 asking you to do something that will make your lives 
 far happier than they could be were this lesson left 
 unlearned. 
 
INDEX 
 
 (For the convenience of teachers and other older readers, technical terms avoided in the 
 body of the book are given in the index.) 
 
 A 
 
 Above-ground roots, ioo-iii. 
 Acorn, seed of oak, 68. 
 
 seed leaves of, 87. 
 
 a fruit, 95. 
 Adder's tongue, yellow, 203, 216, 219. 
 Air, composition of, 151. 
 Air roots, 107. 
 Alder, black, 49. 
 Alder, speckled, 173. 
 Alder, swamp, 173. 
 Alder tassels, 207-209. 
 Almond seed, a food, 91. 
 Amphibious knotweed, 119, 123. 
 Anemone, 203, 209, 216, 219. 
 Animals and plants, difference be- 
 tween, 154, 155. 
 Anthers, see " dust boxes." 
 Apple, study of, 11-19. 
 
 seed of, 20, 24, 27, 29, 93. 
 
 signs of ripeness of, 28, 29. 
 Apple blossom, parts of, 14, 15, 32. 
 
 buds of, 129. 
 Ash, seed of, 62. 
 Aster puff ball, 39. 
 Asters, 251, 252, 254. 
 
 B 
 
 Baneberry, red, 49. 
 Baneberry, white, 49. 
 Barberry, 49. 
 
 stamens of, 193. 
 Bark, defined, 120, 121. 
 Basswood, leaves of, 165. 
 Bean, planting of seed of, 80. 
 
 seed leaves of, 81. 
 
 development of seed, 81-83, 96-98. 
 
 root of, 99. 
 
 stem of, 115, 117. 
 Bee, a pollen carrier, 17, 18, 189, 207, 
 
 226, 227, 233. 
 Beech tree, 215. 
 Beet, root of, 102, 103. 
 Birch tassels, 208, 209. 
 Birds, as seed transporters, 72, 73. 
 Bittersweet berries, 42. 
 
 Black alder, 49. 
 
 Blackberry, development of, 235-237. 
 
 Bladderwort, 179, 180. 
 
 Bloodroot, 106. 
 
 Bloom, 173. 
 
 Blue daisy, 251. 
 
 Blue flag, classified, 88. 
 
 Bristles, 175. 
 
 Bryophyllum, 132, 133, 150. 
 
 Buckwheat seed, a food, 91. 
 
 Buds, 125-133. 
 
 protection of, 126, 127, 131. 
 
 position of, 128, 132. 
 
 unprotected, 130. 
 
 on leaves, 132, 133. 
 Bulb, described, 105, 106. 
 
 an underground stem, 216, 217. 
 Bulblets, defined, 132. 
 Burdock burr, 35, 36, 52, 53, 95. 
 Burrs, description of, 52. 
 
 use of, to plant, 53. 
 
 as seed cases, 67, 68. 
 Buttercup, pistiis and stamens of, 201 
 Buttonwood buds, 130, 131. 
 
 C 
 
 Cabbage leaves, 173. 
 Cabbage, skunk, 204. 
 Caladium, 163, 164. 
 Calyx (cup), described, 15. 
 
 position of, 18. 
 
 function of, 188. 
 
 defined, 189. 
 Carrion vine, 230, 231. 
 Carrot root, 102. 
 Carrot, wild, 246, 247. 
 Castor-oil plant, seed of, 72. 
 Cells, 139-143. 
 
 description of, 139. 
 
 passage of moisture through, 147. 
 148. 
 
 water supply of, 149. 
 
 functions oi, 132. 
 
 loosening leafstalk, 185. 
 Cherry blossom, parts of, 37, 38, 188. 
 189, 218. 
 
 development into cherry, 37, 38, 189. 
 
 267 
 
268 
 
 Cherry tree, branch of, 126. 
 
 buds of, 129. 
 Cherry, wild, 39. 
 Chestnut, burrs of, 67, 68. 
 
 seed leaves of, 87, 88. 
 
 leaves of, 161. 
 Chicory flower, pollen of, 197. 
 Chlorophyll (leaf green) , described, 137. 
 
 function of, 151-161. 
 Chokecherries, 39, 40. 
 Clematis, seed appendages of, 58. 
 
 fruit clusters of, 59. 
 
 stem of, i-i 5. 
 " Clock," dandelion's fruit, 35. 
 Clover, red and white, 117. 
 
 leaf of, 168. 
 
 a flower head, 243, 244, 247. 
 Coal, origin of, 152, 153. 
 Cocoanut, 69. 
 Coffee seed, a food, 91. 
 Color change in leaf, 185. 
 Coloring of fruit, function of, 42, 43, 50. 
 Columbine, plan of, 221. 
 
 spur of, 226. 
 Composite family, 248, 252, 254. 
 Corm, 105, 106. 
 Corn, seed of, 80, 88. 
 
 seed leaves of, 88. 
 
 stem of, 114, 117. 
 
 stalk of, 120, 121. 
 Corolla, position of, 15. 
 
 of apple blossom, 19. 
 
 function of, 188. 
 
 defined, 190. 
 Cottonwood seed, 61. 
 Cotyledons, see " seed leaves." 
 Crane's bill, 65, 66. 
 
 Crocus, bulb or underground stem of, 
 105, 150. 
 
 an early flower, 216. 
 Cup, green, see " calyx." 
 Cyclamen, underground stem of, 105. 
 
 Daffodil, 216. 
 Daisy, pollen of, 196. 
 
 plan of, 249-251. 
 
 blue, 251. 
 
 flower head of, 252. 
 
 strap and tube flowers of, 254, 255. 
 Dandelion, puff ball of, 35, 36, 95. 
 • fruit cluster of, 60. 
 
 plan of, 247, 248. 
 
 flower head of, 252. 
 
 strap flowers of, 254, 255. 
 Dicotyledonous plants (plants with two 
 
 seed leaves), 85-87. 
 Dodder, 108-110, 114, 123. 
 Dogwood, berries of, 42. 
 Dogwood blossom, plan of, 245. 
 
 Duckweed, in. 
 : Dust boxes (anthers), position of, 14, 
 227. 
 contents of, 17. 
 function of, 188. 
 varieties of, 193-195. 
 Dutchman's breeches, 203. 
 
 Easter lily, building plan of, 191. 
 
 stamens of, 193. 
 
 description of, 218, 219. 
 Elm, seed of, 62. 
 
 Enchanter's nightshade, stamen of, 195. 
 English ivy, 106, 107, 115, 116. 
 Eucalyptus, perspiration of, 149. 
 Evening primrose, a night-blooming 
 flower, 229, 230. 
 
 pollen of, 197. 
 Evergreen leaves, 184. 
 Evergreen plants, 171. 
 Everlasting, 255. 
 Eyes of potato, 104, 131. 
 
 False Solomon's seal, 48. 
 Ferns, 215. 
 
 Fertilization, see " pollen." 
 Fibrous roots, 102, 103. 
 Fir tree, trunk of, 121. 
 Fireweed, pod of, 58. 
 
 stamens and pistil of, 227, 228. 
 Flax plant, no. 
 Fleshy root, 102-104. 
 Flower cluster, 245, 246. 
 Flower dust, see "pollen." 
 Flower head, 244, 247-255. 
 Flower leaves, 192. 
 Flowering plants, 22. 
 Flowers, 187-255. 
 
 with many pistils, 201, 202. 
 
 with stamens only, 206-211. 
 
 with pistils only, 207-211, 250. 
 
 of trees, 209-211. 
 
 night-opening, 228-230. 
 
 design of odor of, 231. 
 Food of plants, 143-148, 150. 
 i Forsythia, buds of, 129. 
 ! Foxglove, garden, 225. 
 I Foxglove, yellow false, 112, 225, 226. 
 Fruit, the plant's object, 24. 
 
 the seed holder, 33-36. 
 
 defined, 34, 94. 
 
 wild and cultivated, 39, 40. 
 
 varieties of, 52-55, 95. 
 
 function of, 95. 
 
 formed from pistil, 202. 
 Fruits and seeds, 9-73. 
 
269 
 
 Garden foxglove, 225. 
 Geranium, wild, 65, 66, 220. 
 Golden-rod, fruit dusters of, 59. 
 
 stamens of, 194, 195. 
 
 plan of, 252, 253. 
 
 description of, 254. 
 Grass of Parnassus, pistil of, 200. 
 Grass plants, classified, 88. 
 
 H 
 
 Hairy leaves, design of, 170-175. 
 Hanging roots, 107. 
 Haws, 49. 
 Hemlock cone, 62. 
 Hemlock tree, 171, 184. 
 Hobblebush, leaves of, 215. 
 
 buds of, 130. 
 
 flower cluster of, 245, 246. 
 Holly leaves, 174, 175. 
 Hop hornbeam fruit, 62. 
 Horse chestnut, buds of, 126, 128. 
 Hyacinth, 216. 
 
 I 
 
 Indian corn, see " corn." 
 
 Indian cucumber root, 44, 45. 
 
 Indian pipe, 112. 
 
 Ivy, English, 106, 107, 115, 116. 
 
 Ivy, Japanese, 116. 
 
 Ivy, poison, 107, 115, 116. 
 
 Jack-in-the-pulpit, flower and berry of, 
 
 47- 
 underground stem of, 105, 123. 
 leaf of, 214. 
 
 an early spring flower, 216. 
 Japanese ivy, 116. 
 "Jewelweed, blossom of, 222. 
 pod of, 65, 66. 
 
 L 
 
 Lady's eardrop, 66. 
 
 Lady's slipper, 222. 
 
 Laurel flower, pollen of, 197. 
 
 Leaf blade, described, 136, 137. 
 
 position of, 161. 
 Leaf green (chlorophyll) described, 
 
 137. 
 function of, 151-161. 
 Leaf mouths, function of, 146, 159, 160, 
 
 perspiration of, 148, 149. 
 Leaflets, defined, 168. 
 Leafstalk, use of, 115. 
 
 a bud protector, 131. 
 
 defined, 136. 
 Leaves, 133-185. 
 
 Leaves, protection of, 126, 127. 
 
 buds on, 132, 133. 
 
 parts of, 135-137. 
 
 edges of, 135, 136, 168. 
 
 functions of, 145. 
 
 perspiration of, 146, 149, 150, 170-173. 
 
 as storehouses, 150. 
 
 position of, 160, 161. 
 
 shapes of, 161, 167, 168. 
 
 effect on roots, 162. 
 
 net-veined, 165, 166. 
 
 parallel-veined, 166. 
 
 covering on, 170-175. 
 
 hairy, 170-172, 175. 
 
 woolly, 172. 
 
 as traps, 176-183. 
 
 fall of, 184, 185. 
 
 color change of, 185. 
 Life everlasting, 171, 172. 
 Life substance of plants (protoplasm), 
 
 140, 141. 
 Lily, classified, 88. 
 
 underground stem of, 123, 150. 
 
 flower leaves of, 191. 
 
 plan of, 191, 192. 
 
 pollen of, 196. 
 
 pistil of, 197, 198. 
 
 development of, 199. 
 
 coloring of, 226. 
 Lily, Easter, plan of, 191, 218, 219. 
 Lily family, 45, 219. 
 Liverwort, 203, 219. 
 Locust leaf, 168. 
 
 M 
 
 Mallow, stamens of, 195. 
 Mangrove, fruit and stem of, 92-94. 
 Maple, keys of, 86, 210. 
 
 winged seed of, 61, 86. 
 
 seed leaves of, 90. 
 
 branch of, 126. 
 
 buds of, 129. 
 
 leaf of, 136, 165, 167. 
 
 flower of, 210. 
 Maple, red, 92, 127. 
 Maple, silver, 210. 
 Maple, sugar, 92, 210. 
 Maple, swamp, 210. 
 I Marsh marigold, a spring flower, 203. 
 
 plan of, 218. 
 
 pistils of, 219. 
 Midrib of leaf, 137. 
 Milkweed, pod of, 35, 95. 
 
 seedbox of, 57. 
 
 seeds of, 61. 
 Mistletoe, no, in. 
 Monocotyledonous plants (plants with 
 
 one seed leaf), 88. 
 Morning-glory, seed leaves of, 78. 
 
 seed of, 83, 90. 
 
270 
 
 Morning-glory ( developmentof,ii2, 113. 
 
 stem of, 114, 115, 117, 123. 
 Mountain laurel, buds of, 129. 
 
 arrangement of stamens of, 226, 227. 
 Mullein leaves, 170, 175. 
 
 N 
 
 Nasturtium spur, 226. 
 Nepenthes leaf, 178, 179. 
 Nettles, 175. 
 
 Net-veined leaves, 165, 166. 
 Nightshade, enchanter's, 195. 
 Nightshade, garden, 115. 
 Nourishment of plant, 150. 
 
 Oak, seed of, 68. 
 
 root of, 145. 
 
 leaf of, 167. 
 Oat seed, a food, 91. 
 Orchid family, 107, 223, 224. 
 Orchids, 123, 223, 224, 226. 
 Ovary, see " seedbox." 
 
 Palm tree, trunk of, 121. 
 Pansy, plan of, 220. 
 Parallel-veined leaves, 166. 
 Parasitic plants, 108-111. 
 Parsley family, 247. 
 Partridge berries, 45, 46, 51. 
 Partridge vine, 46, 184, 231. 
 Pea, seed of, 80, 87, 90, 242. 
 
 seed leaves of, 87. 
 
 stem of, 115. 
 
 pod of, 241, 242. 
 Pea blossom, stamens of, 194, 241, 242. 
 
 pistil of, 200, 241, 242. 
 
 analysis of, 240-242. 
 Pea family, 54, 240. 
 Peach, compared with apple, 36. 
 
 blossom of, 38. 
 
 Persian origin of, 40. 
 
 buds of, 129. 
 Pear, compared with apple, 31. 
 
 blossom of, 32. 
 
 buds of, 129. 
 Pear, wild, 118. 
 Peony seeds, 75, 76. 
 Perspiration of plants, 148, 149, 160. 
 Petals (handkerchiefs), used as signals, 
 17, 18, 188, 192, 221, 223, 226. 
 
 functions of, 188. 
 Pine, cone of, 62. 
 
 classified, 88, 89. 
 
 leaves of, 171, 184. 
 
 flower of, 197. 
 
 Pins with dust boxes, see " stamens." 
 Pins without dust boxes, see " pistils." 
 Pistils (pins without dust boxes), de= 
 scribed, 15, 18, 197-202. 
 
 function of, 188, 198, 199. 
 
 defined, 190. 
 
 varieties of, 200. 
 
 flowers with many, 201, 202. 
 
 fruit formed from, 202. 
 
 position of, 227, 228, 248. 
 
 of strawberry, 233, 234. 
 
 of berries', 236. 
 Pit or stone, 37. 
 Pitcher plant, 176-178. 
 Pith, defined, 120, 121. 
 Plants, flowering, 22. 
 
 object of life of, 22, 23. 
 
 use of, to world, 26, 27. 
 
 service of, to animals, 26, 27, 156, 
 
 157- 
 young, 75-98. 
 nourishment of, 75, 76, yj, 150, 156- 
 
 160. 
 with two seed leaves (dicotyledons), 
 
 85-87. 
 with one seed leaf (monocotyledons) 
 
 88. 
 with many seed leaves (polycotyle 
 
 dons), 88. 89. 
 parasitic, 108-111. 
 development of, 112, 113. 
 absorption of water by, 147. 
 perspiration of, 148, 149, 160. 
 as air purifiers, 151-153, 158, 159. 
 breathing of, 158-160. 
 storing of food in, 185, 216, 217. 
 protection of, 214, 215. 
 Plants and animals, difference be- 
 tween, 154, 155. 
 Plum, compared with apple, 36. 
 
 blossom of, 38. 
 Plum, wild beach, 40. 
 Pods, 35, 54, 55, 58, 65-67, 241, 242. 
 Poison ivy, 107, 115, 116. 
 Pollen (flower dust), described, 14, 
 196-199. 
 carriers of, 17, 18, 189, 207, 213, 223, 
 
 224, 226-230, 233. 
 effect on pistil, 18, 20. 
 fertilizing power of, 18, 20, 196-199. 
 transportation of, 18, 207, 211, 213, 
 
 226, 227, 229-231, 233, 250. 
 function of, 188, 198, 199. 
 varieties of, 196, 197. 
 defined, 199, 200. 
 Polycotyledonous plants (plants with 
 
 many seed leaves), 88, 89. 
 Polygala, 222. 
 Poplar tassels, 211. 
 Poppy seed, dispersal of, 70, 71. 
 
271 
 
 Potato, a stem, 104, 131. 
 
 eyes of, 174, 131. 
 Potato, sweet, 102. 
 Prickles, 174, 175. 
 Primrose, evening, 197, 229, 230. 
 Protoplasm (life substance), 140, 141. 
 Puffballs, 35, 36, 59, 95. 
 Pussy willow, 129. 
 
 tassels of, 205-207. 
 
 Quince leaf, 135, 136, 137, 165. 
 
 Radish root, 102. 
 
 Raspberry, development of, 237-239. 
 
 Red baneberry, 49. 
 
 Red clover, stem of, 117. 
 
 Red maple, seed of, 92. 
 
 leaves of, 127. 
 
 buds of, 127. 
 Rhubarb plant, 164. 
 Robin's plantain, 251, 252. 
 Root branches, 162-164. 
 Roots, origin of, 81, 113. 
 
 hairs of, 81, 99-102, 104, 123, 143. 
 
 function of, 99-103. 
 
 fibrous, 102, 103. 
 
 fleshy, 102-104. 
 
 as food, 103, 104. 
 
 above-ground, 106-111. 
 
 varieties of, 106-112. 
 
 hanging, 107. 
 
 underground, 111. 
 
 water, in, 112. 
 
 absorbing capacity of, 146. 
 
 spreading of, 162, 163. 
 
 position of, 163, 164. 
 Roots and stems, 99-122. 
 Rootstocks, function of, 106, 217. 
 Rose, petals of, 32, 33. 
 
 stem of, 120. 
 Rose family, 31, 32, 36, 40, 235. 
 Rose hip, 33, 34. 
 Rose mallow, 258. 
 Rose of Jericho, pod of, 71. 
 Rose, wild, 32. 
 
 Saint John's-wort, pistil of, 200. 
 
 Saxifrage, pistil of, 200. 
 
 Sea pinks, 228, 258. 
 
 Seaweed, 258. 
 
 Seed sailboats (appendages), 56-60, 
 
 207. 
 Seedbox (ovary), described, 15, 18. 
 function of, 188. 
 
 I Seedbox, in berries, 236-239. 
 ! Seed coat, 80-84, 86, 113. 
 J Seed leaf, plants with one (monocotyle- 
 dons), 88. 
 
 of corn, 88. 
 Seed leaves (cotyledons), description 
 of, 78, 81-90. 
 
 plants with two (dicotyledons) , 85-87. 
 
 of acorn, 87. 
 
 of pea, 87. 
 
 of walnut, 87, 88. 
 
 of chestnut, 87, 88. 
 
 plants with manv (polvcotvledons), 
 88, 89. 
 
 development of, 113. 
 
 number of, 120, 121, 165. 
 Seeds, growth of, in the apple, 18-20. 
 
 the object of the plant's life, 24. 
 
 importance of, to world, 27. 
 
 protection of, 28, 29. 
 
 reason for scattering of, 50, 51. 
 
 transportation of, 52-64, 69-73. 
 
 winged, 61. 
 
 shooting, 63-67. 
 
 nourishment of, 75-77. 
 
 planting of, 79-87, 95, 96. 
 
 germination of, 80-89, 9 2 > I 98, *99- 
 
 as food, 89-91. 
 
 as storehouses, 90, 91. 
 Shin leaf flower, stamen of, 193. 
 Shooting seeds, 64-67. 
 Silver maple, 210. 
 
 Skunk cabbage, description ot, 204. 
 Snowberry, stem of, 117. 
 Snowdrop, 216. 
 Solomon's seal, fruit of, 48. 
 
 underground stem of, 105, 216. 
 
 scars of, 105, 106. 
 Solomon's seal, false, 48. 
 Speckled alder. 173. 
 Spice bush buds, 129. 
 Spikenard, 49. 
 Spring beauty, 203, 216. 
 Spur, 226. 
 
 Squash, seed of, 80, 85, 86, 90. 
 Squirting cucumber, 67. 
 Stamens (pins with dust boxes), de- 
 scription of, 14. 
 
 function of, 188. 
 
 defined, 190. 
 
 varieties of, 193-195. 
 
 position of, 248. 
 Steeple bush, leaves of, 172. 
 Stems, development of, 81, 112, 113. 
 
 of bean plant, 96. 
 
 underground, 104-106, 150, 216- 
 219. 
 
 varieties of, 104, 1 12-120. 
 
 use of. to plant, 113-117. 
 
 habits of, 117-119. 
 
272 
 
 Stems, hairy, n8, 119. 
 
 sticky, 118. 
 
 parts of, 120. 
 
 as water carriers, 146-148, 163. 
 Stick-tight, 55. 
 Stone or pit of fruits, 37. 
 Strap flowers, 247-255. 
 Strawberry, stem of, 117. 
 
 pistil of, 201. 
 
 development of, 233, 234. 
 
 description of, 238. 
 Sugar maple, seeds of, 92. 
 
 blossom of, 210. 
 Sumac, 43. 
 Sun (Sunbeam), factor in plant life, 
 
 151-161. 
 Sundew, leaf of, 182, 183. 
 
 pistil of, 200. 
 Sunflower, plan of, 255. 
 Sunflower plant, perspiration of, 149. 
 Swamp alder, 173. 
 Swamp maple, 210. 
 Sweet potato root, 102. 
 
 Thistle, 56, 59, 118, 174, 254, 255. 
 Thistle down, 56. 
 T.iorn, 49. 
 
 use of, to plant, 117, 118. 
 Thorn appie, 199. 
 Tick trefoil pod, 54. 55. 
 Ticks, transportation of, 55. 
 Tiger lily buds, 132. 
 Touch-me-not pod, 65-67. 
 Trailing arbutus, a spring flower. 203, 
 209. 
 
 plan of, 217, 218. 
 Transportation of pollen, 18, 207, 211, 
 
 213, 226, 227, 229-231, 233, 250. 
 Transportation of seeds, 52-64, 69-73. 
 Traps of plants, 176-183. 
 Trees, flowers of. 209, 211. 
 Trunk, a stem, 119. 
 
 section of, 121, 147. 
 Tube flowers, 249-255. 
 Tuber, defined, 217. 
 Tulip, stem of, 148. 
 
 parts of. 193. 
 
 an early spring flower, 216. 
 Turnip root, 102. 
 
 U 
 
 Underground roots, in. 
 Underground stems, 104, 105, 150, 216, 
 217, 219. 
 
 Veinlets, described, 137. 
 
 function of, 160. 
 Veins, described, 137. 
 
 function of, 160. 
 
 significance of, 165. 
 Venus's flytrap, leaf of, 181. 
 Violet, a spring flower, 203, 209, 
 
 plan of, 220. 
 
 spur of, 226. 
 Violet, yellow, 203. 
 Virginia creeper, 116. 
 
 W 
 
 flower, 216. 
 
 Wake-robin, a spring 
 
 plan of, 219. 
 Walnut, seed leaves of, 87, 88. 
 
 seed of, 90. 
 
 a fruit, 95. 
 Water lily, stem of, 116, 117. 
 Water roots, in, 112. 
 Wheat seed, a food, 91. 
 White baneberry, 49. 
 White clover, stem of, 117. 
 White elm, flower cluster of, 210. 
 Wild beach plum, 40. 
 Wild carrot, 246, 247. 
 Wild geranium, plan of, 220. 
 
 seed dispersal of, 65, 66. 
 Wild ginger, a spring flower, 216. 
 
 plan of, 219. 
 
 seedbox of. 219. 
 Wild pear, 118. 
 Wild rose, 33. 
 Willow, seed appendages of, 61. 
 
 roots of, in, 112. 
 Willow herb, pod of, 58. 
 
 seeds of, 61. 
 Wintergreen, leaves of, in w 
 184. 
 
 berries of, 49. 
 Witch-hazel, flower of, 63. 
 
 nut of, 63-65. 
 
 seed of, 64. 
 Wood lily, stem of, 105. 
 Woolly leaves, 172. 
 
 Yellow adder's tongue, an early spring 
 flower, 203, 216. 
 plan of, 219. 
 Yellow false foxglove, 112, 225, 226. 
 Yellow violet, 203. 
 
. 3 r, : 
 
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