i88 



THE GUIDE TO NATURE. 



«rs of Kyoto Y. M. C. A., and last year I was 

 appointed one of the directors of the as- 

 sociation. 



I have several assistants who help me 

 daily. They are all Christians except a 

 painter. As they serve their duties faith- 

 fully, I can manage this most intricate 

 work very smoothly, hoping daily the future 

 accomplishment. No people in this country 

 took so much care for such a work as I am 

 engaging hitherto. Things are changed re- 

 cently, and they began to notice every sci- 

 entific investigation. Often in several news- 

 papers of different provinces and cities, ar- 

 ticles concerning my work appeared. In 

 one of the largest and most influential pa- 

 pers, the Asahi, I was put among the famous 

 hundred men for whom the editor gave 

 watch of praise in daily paper, introducing 

 their achievements to the public. On the 

 paper of April 8th, an article concerning 

 myself with my picture appeared with much 

 praise. This is unfit to me to put, such 

 as I am among the prominent hundred of 

 Japan. I am rather ashamed of it, for I 

 have nothing in me that deserve such a 

 praise. But to my own thinking, this proves 

 the fact that the people have become inter- 

 ested with the scientific observation. 



WATCHING FERNS DEVELOP. 



REPORT OF CHAPTER NO. 58/, CONCORD A, 



NEW HAMPSHIRE. 



MRS. ELEEN S. EAMPREY. PRESIDENT. 



MY FERN BED UP TO DATE. 



(MAY II.) 



"Have ye watched that ball unfolding 

 Each closely nestling curl, 



Its fair and feathery leaflets 



Their spreading forms unfurl?" 



The Osmunda Claytoniana or interrupted 

 fern is seventeen inches in height with the 

 coils unfolded. The rachis is a beautiful 

 green and the fronds just on the point of 

 release from their cramped quarters. I 

 mark it as the most interesting and con- 

 spicuous of the Osmundas. Next in beauty 

 are the coils of the royal. They are deli- 

 cate, color a beautiful brown and gold. 

 They are five inches from the ground. The 

 rachis has a pretty purple tint. All these 

 foreshadow the beauty of the fern later, 

 and entitle it truly to its name, royal. The 

 Osmunda cinnamomea has conspicuous 

 coils covered with "wool." It is only five 

 inches or less from the ground and it will 

 be days before we see fronds, a contrast 

 to the Claytoniana beside it. The heavy, 

 brown spore plume of the ostrich fern has 

 a circle of green fronds eighteen inches in 

 height. The coils are coarse and heavy, 

 some just ready to unfold. The Nephro- 

 dium marginale have similar coils, but are 

 a rich brown and chaffy conspicuous as 

 they still hug the earth. 



One can hardly mistake the lady fern as 

 the old bracts on the rachis distinguish it 

 from the others. Its coils are also of good 



thickness. I have several roots of red and 

 green growing side by side, so it cannot be 

 the soil that causes the difference of color. 

 The Nephrodium spinulosum have a chaffy 

 stem and heavy coils. The beech ferns are 

 up and uncurled but not yet developed into 

 the graceful fronds that flourish under the 

 syringa bush. The delicate oak fern looks 

 like the tangled foretop of a social dame, 

 for the fronds are all kinks and coils that 

 later have the beautiful gold green leaves 

 that peep from a sloping board that pro- 

 tects it from the merciless drip of the 

 eaves. The Woodsia ilvensis coils are not 

 unrolled; another Woodsia (obtusa) has a 

 few small fronds. The coils of the silvery 

 spleenwort are coarse, smooth, brown and 

 not unrolled. The little polypody, the old 

 green shoots, the coils not conspicuous. 



The Dicksonia (hay fern) is not above 

 ground but when it appears it will be as 

 individuals — one frond in a place; but so 

 close are they that we think a whole rank 

 of the white plume of Henry of Navarre are 

 near as the tip unrolls last and gives the 

 bed a curious and beautiful appearance of 

 waving plumes. The fronds of the fragile 

 Cystopteris are a few inches high. The 

 beautiful fruiting fronds of the sensitive 

 fern have dropped their brown heads and 

 look delicate beside the stiff brown plumes of 

 the ostrich ferns which last year stood five 

 and one-half feet in their stockings. The 

 sensitive is marked by a red rachis and a red 

 tinge to the fronds. The Nephrodium Nove- 

 boracense (New York fern), fronds well 

 above ground: the narrow leaves at the 

 lower part distinguish it; they are less and 

 less almost to the ground. Nephrodium 

 Thelypteris, the leaves stop half way down 

 the rachis, ending in leaves equal to the 

 ones above and a long, naked stem. The 

 Pteris aquilina are not up yet. These are 

 scattered about the grounds like bungalows 

 in the country, while the others are in the 

 limits of the city's bed or streets, for there 

 is the Lady Fern Street, the Dicksonia 

 Alley, the Ostrich Court, the Public Square 

 of Osmundas, Beech, Boottii and others. 

 But the silvery spleenwort has the place of 

 honor near a historic white rose and the 

 haunt of the humming bird. The broad 

 beech fern is not up. The cinnamon 

 fronds in woolly clumps dot thickly the 

 near by park. The lady fern, red and 

 green, and Noveboracense are under the 

 thorny cedar trees while the Pteris aquilina 

 (brake) near masses of dark blue violets 

 are not up and I hope no reader will covet 

 them for greens, whose beauty has saved 

 them from the edge of the scythe, lo, these 

 many years. 



