Cultivated-Plant Study 



679 



maintained that the bees visit this flower for the sake of the pollen, but I 

 am convinced that this is not all of the story. In the base of the pedestal 

 which supports the anther knob there appear, after a time, three incon- 

 spicuous openings; and if we watch a bee, w r e shall see that she knows 

 these openings are there and eagerly thrusts her tongue down through 

 them. If we remove the anthers and the pedestal, we shall find below the 

 latter, a treasure cave; it is carpeted with the softest of buff velvet, and 

 while it does not reek with nectar, as does the cup which encompasses the 

 styles of the pistil, yet it secretes enough of the sweet fluid so that we can 

 taste it distinctly. Thus, although the bees find pollen in this flower they 

 also find there, nectar. The pumpkin is absolutely dependent upon the 

 work of bees and other insects for carrying its pollen from the blossom 

 that bears it to the one which needs it, as this is the only wa\ that the 

 fruit may be developed. 



And after the pollen has been shed and delivered, the flower closes, 

 this time with an air of finality. The fading corolla looks as if its lobes 

 had been twisted about by the thumb and finger to secure tightness ; and 

 woe betide the bee caught in one of these prisons, unless she knows how to 

 cut through its walls or can find within, sustenance to last until the 

 withered flower falls. The young pumpkin is at first held up by its stiff 

 stem but later rests upon the ground. 



The ripe pumpkin is not only a colossal but also a beautiful fruit. The 

 glossy rind is brilliant orange and makes a very efficient protection for the 

 treasures within it. The stem is strong, five-angled and stubborn, and 

 will not let go its hold until the fruit is over-ripe. It then leaves a star- 

 shaped scar to match the one at the other end of the fruit, where once the 

 blossom sat enthroned. The pumpkin in shape is like a little world 

 flattened at the poles, and with the lines of longitude creased into its 

 surface. But the number of these longitudinal creases varies with 

 individual pumpkins, and seems to have no 

 relation to the angles of the stem or the three 

 chambers within. 



If we cut a small green pumpkin across, we 

 find the entire inside solid. There are three 

 fibrous partitions extending from the center, 

 dividing the pulp into thirds; at its outer end 

 each partition divides, and the two ends curve 

 in opposite directions. Within these curves 

 the seeds are borne. A similar arrangement 

 is seen in the sliced cucumber. As the pump- 

 kin ripens, the partitions surrounding the 

 seeds become stringy and very different from 

 the "meat" next to the rind, which makes a 

 thick, solid outer wall about the centra] 



chamber, where, within its "groined arches" are contained six 

 rows of crowded seeds, attached by their pointed tips and supported 

 by a network of yellow, coarse fibers like babies supported in hammocks. 

 All this network, making a loose and fibrous core, allows the seeds to fall 

 out, in a mass when the pumpkin is broken. If we observe where the 

 cattle have been eating pumpkins we find these masses of seeds left and 

 trampled into the mud, where, if our winter climate permitted, they 

 could grow into plants next year. 



Section of a pumpkin just 

 after the blossom has fallen. 

 Note how the seeds are borne. 



