THE GLORY OF THE MORNING. 



By Dr. W. W. Bailey. 



I NEVER see a morning-glory without envying the bees who 

 can plunge into its cool pavilion. How exquisite is the 

 texture! How alluring the color; deep purple, pink, violet, 

 or red. Its evanescence, too, adds to its beauty. Anything 

 ephemeral thus appeals to that feeling in man which leads him 

 to protect the weak and innocent. After blooming the flower 

 closes permanently by rolling in upon itself in a fashion most 

 beautiful. 



"Where is that Promethean heat 

 That can its light relume?" 



The opening of morning-glories at a relatively fixed time of 

 day — certain species like the moon-flower {Ipomoea bona- 

 nox) only in the evening; others as constantly matutinal — 

 recalls Linneaeus' experiments in making a floral clock. We 

 recall certain plants with precise habits as to time of opening; 

 four-o'clocks {Mirabilis Jalapa), evening primrose {Oenoth- 

 era), certain catchflies {Lychnis), the common chickory, and 

 night-blooming cereus, or its cousin more commonly passing 

 under its name — the Phyllocatus. 



The chickory one finds abundantly about Boston. Its blue 

 heads close — vanish — by noon. Every botanist realizes that 

 to have them complete he must catch some flowers, early in 

 the morning, such as rock roses {H elianthemum) bloodroot 

 {Sanguinaria.) , the common celandine, etc. In the last two, 

 and in poppies, the calyx is caducous; that it, it falls as the 

 bud expands. Beginners analyzing such plants are, if they 

 find them at mid-day, apt, to their dire confusion, to think 

 them apetalous. 



But to return to our morning-glories. Our garden species, 

 varying so much in color, belong to the genus Ipomoea. 

 The wild bindweeds, on the contrary are Convolvuluses, dis- 



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