The bonnet had flowers and ribbon and lace;
But the bird had added the crowning grace —
It is really a charming affair.
Is the love of a bonnet supreme over all,
In a lady so faultlessly fair?
The Father takes heed when the sparrows fall,
He hears when the starving nestlings call —
Can a tender woman not care?
– Anon.
STRANGE PLANTS
ONE of the most remarkable growths in the government botanical gardens is the so-called barber plant, the leaves of which are used in some parts of the East by rubbing on the face to keep the beard from growing. It is not supposed to have any effect on a beard that is already rooted, but merely to act as a preventive, boys employing it to keep the hair from getting a start on their faces. It is also employed by some Oriental people who desire to keep a part of their heads free from hair, as a matter of fashion. A curious looking tree from the Isthmus of Panama bears a round red fruit as big as an apple, which has this remarkable faculty, that its juice rubbed on tough beef or chicken makes the meat tender by the chemical power it possesses to separate the flesh fiber. One is interested to observe in the botanical green houses three kinds of plants that have real consumption of the lungs – the leaves, of course, being the lungs of a plant. The disease is manifested by the turning of the leaves from green to white, the affection gradually spreading from one spot until, when a leaf is all white, it is just about to die. Cruelly enough, as it would seem, the gardeners only try to perpetuate the disease for the sake of beauty and curiosity, all plants of those varieties that are too healthy being thrown away.
A BRIGAND BIRD
THE kea is an outlaw bird of New Zealand for each of whose bills the government offers a reward of a shilling. The kea is a gourmand. It prefers the kidney of a sheep to any other part of the beast.
Coming down out of the mountains in winter, it attacks the sheep, alighting on their backs, and tearing away the hide and flesh until it reaches the titbits which it seeks.
How the birds learned to tear away the skin to get at the flesh forms a curious story of the development of bird knowledge. The birds had been feeding on the refuse of cattle and sheep killed for human consumption. They learned to associate the idea of meat with the living animal, and now they kill the sheep for the meat without waiting for human aid or consent.
The Maoris have a legend about this bird to the effect that it used to be a strict vegetarian, building its nest on the ground. The sheep came and trampled on the nests, and the birds attacked them furiously, drawing blood.
They liked the flavor of flesh, and have ever since been eating it. The bird builds its nest in trees now, out of the reach of the sheep's hoofs.
THE BROOK
Little brook, little brook,
You have such a happy look,
Such a very merry manner as you swerve and curve and crook;
And your ripples, one by one,
Reach each other's hands and run
Like laughing little children in the sun!
Little brook, sing to me,
Sing about a bumble-bee
That tumbled from a lily-bell and mumbled grumblingly
Because he wet the film
Of his wings and had to swim,
While the water bugs raced round and laughed at him.
Little brook, sing a song
Of a leaf that sailed along
Down the golden braided center of your current swift and strong,
And the dragon-fly that lit
On the tilting rim of it,
And sailed away, and wasn't scared a bit!
And sing how oft in glee
Came a truant boy like me
Who loved to lean and listen to your lilting melody,
Till the gurgle and refrain
Of your music in his brain
Caused a happiness as deep to him as pain!
Little brook, laugh and leap!
Do not let the dreamer weep;
Sing him all the songs of summer till he sink in softest sleep;
And then sing soft and low
Through his dreams of long ago,
Sing back to him the rest he used to know.
– Anon.
THE BLOOD-ROOT
WILLIAM KERR HIGLEY,
Secretary of the Chicago Academy of Sciences
Thou first-born of the year's delight,
Pride of the dewy glade,
In vernal green and virgin white,
Thy vestal robes arrayed. —
Keble.
THE true lover of flowers, though he may be enraptured by those under cultivation, finds a greater satisfaction in the study and observation of those that are developed only under the influence of Nature's laws. In the field, the forest, and even in the sea there are plants not only pleasing to the eye, but that are doubly interesting because of the wonderful provision made for them to assure their survival. Plants, like animals, have their enemies, and sometimes it seems that, with thoughtful care for its own protection, a species will gradually change its habits, thus conveying a sense of danger to its descendants.
Many of the peculiarities of plants, that fit them for existence, may be readily studied by the novice in botany as he tramps the fields in search of recreation. There is nothing more delightful and charming to the botanist than to seek the reasons for the beauties in Nature and to find why plants live and exist as they do.
Many delicate plants seek the shelter and protection of the borders of the forest. They do not penetrate far within, but remain near the open, where the sunlight can reach them. The blood-root (Sanguinaria Canadensis) is of this character. Beautiful and delicate, it seems to shun the storm and wind and to retire from the gaze of man.
The blood-root belongs to the poppy family (Papaveraceæ), which includes about twenty-five genera and over two hundred species. These, though widely distributed, are chiefly found in the temperate regions of the North. To this family also belong the valuable opium-producing plant (Papaver somniferum), the Mexican or prickly poppy (Argemone Mexicana), the Dutchman's breeches (Bicuculla Cucullaria), the bleeding-heart (Bicuculla eximia) and the beautiful mountain fringe (Adlumia fungosa). A large number of the species are cultivated for ornamental purposes. The poppy is also cultivated for the commercial value of the opium it produces. All the species produce a milky or colored juice. Here, indeed, we may say that behind beauty there lurks a deadly foe, for the juice of nearly all the species has active narcotic properties. This property is a means of protection to the plant under consideration, for its acrid taste is distasteful to animals.
The red juice that exudes from all parts of the plant of the blood-root gives it both its common and its generic names, the latter, Sanguinaria, is derived from the Latin word sanguis, or blood.
This interesting plant is a native of Eastern North America, deriving its specific name from the fact that it is found in Canada. It blossoms in April or May. Usually but a single flower is borne by the naked stalk that rises from the underground stem to the height of about eight inches. The flowers are white, very rarely pinkish, about one and one-half of an inch in diameter. The number of petals varies from eight to twelve, and they fall very soon after expansion. The sepals disappear before the bud opens.
A single leaf is produced from each bud of the underground stem. It is wrapped around the flower-bud as the latter rises from the soil and does not develop to full size till after the period of blossoming is over. The necessary food material for the production of the flower was stored in the underground stem during the preceding season. Thus the green leaf is not needed early in the growth of the plant.
The adult leaf is kidney-shaped, smooth, and five to nine lobed. When fully grown they are often more than six inches in diameter. The leaf-stalk, which may be over one foot in length, and the radiating veins vary in color from yellowish to orange. Few leaves are more beautiful and graceful than these, both during their development and when fully mature.
It is said that the Indians formerly used the juice of this plant as a dye, and thus it is sometimes called red Indian paint and red puccoon.
TANSY CAKES
MANY of our garden herbs still in common use for purposes of seasoning are in reality British plants, says Longman's Magazine. Among them may be mentioned mint and marjoram and thyme and calamint, all of which may be found in their native haunts. Fennel is abundant on sea cliffs in many places in the south of England. Wild hyssop is perfectly naturalized on the picturesque ruins of Beaulieu Abbey and wild balm used to be found within the ancient walls of Portchester castle. The garden parsley was formerly abundant on the shingly beach at Hurst castle, where it used to be gathered for domestic purposes. One native herb, however, much in use among our fore-fathers is now seldom seen in kitchen gardens – we mean Tanacetum vulgare, the common tansy, the dull yellow flowers of which are often conspicuous by the side of streams. The young leaves and juice of this plant were formerly employed to give color and flavor to puddings, which were known as tansy cakes, or tansy puddings.