THE AMERICAN BOTANIST. 105 



Heretofore unnoticed hairs at the base of the stamens are hv- 

 ing things through whose transparent cellulose walls mystery 

 laden protoplasm is seen streaming along its complex currents. 



Dos this sort of thing pay — these occasional glimpses into 

 some tiny corner of old Mother Earth's illimitable store ? The 

 compound microscope is the only entrance gate. Diagrams 

 and book-talk don't admit one into the inner circle. 



As for pay — w^ell it pays some people. It will not pay 

 one who never has time to look at a sunset, nor gives note to 

 rainbow colors in a drop of dew, nor listens to the old robin 

 singing in the elm tree across the road. It depends on whether 

 the particular amateur botanist we are 'advising' is in touch 

 with the tranquil beauty which underlies all this great pulsat- 

 ing world of matter and energy or whether 



''The primrose by the river's brim 

 A yellow primrose fisl to him 

 And nothing more." 



Ada, Ohio. 



THE PRICKLY PEAR. 



A T the mention of the word cactus, our thoughts instinc- 

 •**■ tively travel to those dry and arid wastes where the 

 conditions of growth are so rigorous that few plants, save 

 the thickest skinned and most stolid can hold their ground. It 

 is something of a surprise, then, to be told that cacti are found 

 in many places where a more luxuriant flora prevails. Several 

 species are found on the plains as far north as the Dakotas and 

 Minnesota, and one strays into Manitoba. In the Atlantic 

 States, one species, the common "prickly pear" (Opuntia vul- 

 garis) reaches the northeastern limits of its range in Massa- 

 chusetts and is fairly common in the vicinity of New York 

 city. 



Like all cacti it loves the sun but accepts winter's cold with 

 composure, and true to its instincts, selects the most exposed 



