HARDWICKE'S SCIENCE-GOSSIP. 



[Jan. 1, 1S70. 



FLORAL FINDINGS. 



" 'Tis Summer, 'tis Summer, the wild birds are singing, 

 The woods and the glens with their sweet notes are ringing, 

 The skies are all glowing with crimson and gold, 

 And the trees their bright blossoms begin to unfold." 



" Who has not dreamed a world of bliss, 

 On a bright sunny day like this ? »' 



OITTING under the shade of a large Elm-tree, 

 ^ listening to the clear music of the skylark, 

 arranging a basket full of flowers which I had 

 gathered in the course of my walk yesterday morn- 

 ing, it occurred to me that I would jot down a short 

 account of my floral findings for the perusal of those 

 lovers of country life who are obliged to remain in 

 town at this enjoyable season. 



"Praise the bridge that carries you over" is a 

 very old and homely saying : let me take a hint 

 from it, and give the place of honour to the Ulmiis 

 campestris, whose protecting branches shielded me 

 from the sun. 



This tree is in full beauty now ; foliage and fruit 

 are perfection ; one scarcely wonders that the 

 Saxons worshipped it. The first woman, according to 

 Teutonic mythology, was madeout of the Elm. "What 

 "wooden dolls" those ancient barbarians must have 

 thought us ; for it is more than probable that they 

 were equally ignorant of the virtues it possessed, 

 though they evidently perceived its loveliness. Our 

 poets, however, assign to it rank amongst the lords 

 of the creation. Milton and Shakespeare, for in- 

 stance, wed it to the vine, and I thiuk the Moun- 

 tain Bard has a like passage in his works. 



A whole page might be filled with its uses; they 

 are numerous. Its bark is highly astringent, and 

 affords a substance called by chemists ulmin ; it 

 is also valuable to dyers, produces a pretty yellowish- 

 brown colour; and silkworms eat its leaves,— so do 

 many other creatures, for most animals are fond of 

 its foliage ; and as to insects, the Elm-tree is a fine 

 hunting-ground for the collector. You have seen 

 the leaves curl up occasionally? Well, the Aphis 

 ulmi rolls them into that form, to make a shelter 

 for himself. He is partial to the juice, but, being 

 rather fragile, requires protection from the weather. 

 Some animals are supposed to eat their old cast- 

 off clothes, but here is an insect that drinks his 

 home. 



Let me see, what did I find first ? Oh ! those 

 yellow flags by the water side— " Seggs" as a friend 

 of mine from the north calls them. The yellow flag 

 belongs to the Iris family,— a large family it is too ; 

 there are over a hundred species of Iris, I believe ! 

 and some of them are very lovely. One can easily 

 credit old Plutarch's version that the generic name 

 was bestowed on them by the Egyptians on account 

 of their various hues. It resembles a word in their 

 tongue signifying "Eye of Heaven." This especial 

 flag is perhaps one of the least attractive, yet in its 



natural element, water, it looks exceedingly charm- 

 ing. Yesterday, its large showy flowers and deep 

 green leaves were seen to advantage there, but in 

 vase or stand it seems out of place. 



Leaving the stream and going out into the field, 

 I found some Foxgloves growing luxuriantly by the 

 hedgeside— Gants de Notre Dame is a far more ap- 

 propriate name. When did reynard ever wear 

 gloves, and such gloves as these ? But a fanciful 

 imagination might encase the Virgin's fingers in its 

 elegant pendulous flowers. I like the word stately 

 as applied to this plant : it has a regal look, and I 

 often wonder why our old English poets never 

 noticed it. Its poisonous properties most certainly 

 could not have shut it out from mention, for 

 Shakespeare alludes to several of our most deadly 

 herbs and flowers. Painters have been more alive 

 to its charms ; it has been introduced into many- 

 landscapes. W r e are indebted to the Foxglove for 

 one of the most valuable medicines, Digitalis, and 

 the Italian proverb "Aralda chi tuttc piaghe 

 salda;" or, "Foxglove cures all wounds," shows 

 that its vulnery powers were fully recognized in 

 Italy. 



Close to the foxglove's purple flowers grew two 

 of our most beautiful British ferns, Hart's-tongue 

 and Athyrmm Filixfcemiua. 



" If you would see the lady fern, 

 In all her graceful power, 

 Go look for her where the woodlarks learn, 



&c. 



sings, or rather sang, "Calder Campbell." And there, 

 in just such a spot as he so well describes, stood 

 her ladyship surrounded by her friends ; her pale 

 green fronds towering proudly above them all, while 

 the Scolopendrium evidently liked its quarters quite 

 as well as if it had been in the society of the 

 Brakens. 



The Water Crowfoot {Ranunculus aquatilis), with 

 its white petals, its relative, the "butter-flower," 

 as the Meadow Crowfoot is often termed, close by. 

 Really, as cows make a rule of declining this plant, I 

 cannot see why country folks should insist on as- 

 serting that the rich yellow colour of the butter in 

 spring and summer is produced by it. Popular 

 errors are difficult to correct : there is not an old 

 dairywomau in the parish who would not deem me 

 insane if I told her that the Butter-&ower, on which 

 she so depends for golden-coloured produce, blisters 

 the mouth of any one who is silly enough to taste 

 it. The "Cuckoo-buds of yellow hue" in Shake- 

 speare's immortal verse, are thought to have been 

 this blossom, not the Cardamine pratensis, now 

 known as "Cuckoo-flower." The French Bouton 

 d'or is a double variety of our Crowfoot. It is often 

 grown in gardens ; so, indeed arc many handsome 

 members of the genus Ranunculus, but they are 

 all more or less suspicious characters, and I should 

 not like to partake of a salad into which either 



