STURDY SURVIVORS 



Dodging in and out of the marching line, 

 halting at a barnyard to take possession of every 

 unoccupied foot of space, romping along the 

 roadside at the edge of every tangle is the May- 

 weed, a tiny daisy-like flower, which would be 

 more attractive had it an agreeable odor. It 

 reaches the height of a foot or more, becomes 

 of bushy habit, and its small leaves, cut and 

 slashed to formlessness, are of disagreeable odor 

 and acrid taste. Tradition says that a certain 

 Englishman, resident in America, introduced 

 the plant, sowing it quite generally lest he should 

 be deprived of his camomile tea. It blooms 

 late, withstands in sheltered places more than 

 one snow-storm, and often shivers its way 

 through November. 



There is a group of hardy plants that may 

 well be credited with "incurable youth." The 

 chief of these, delicate, insignificant, omnipresent 

 in all gardens and most cultivated grounds, is 

 the Chickweed, Stellaria media, which in October 

 carpets the home of the early potato and of the 

 kitchen-garden with a blanket of soft green, 



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