1885. 



AND HORTICULTURIST. 



339 



lower, the conditions change. A tall mountain 

 may be snow-capped all summer ; when it gets 

 lower it will have no summer snow, and no sum- 

 mer streams. Local climate must change in con- 

 sequence. Even the deposits of earth at the 

 mouth of the Mississippi will change the direction 

 of the warm current, and this will modify the 

 climate of the countries the warm water flows 



against. A volcanic upheaval in the Atlantic 

 Ocean would change the Gulf Stream, and in the 

 short space of a few months, England and itsbright 

 flowers and green lawns might become another 

 Iceland. As long as the laws we have briefly 

 alluded to continue in operation, one is justified in 

 the statement that climates must "of necessity" 

 change.— Ed. G. M.] 



Natural History and Science. 



COMMUNICATIONS. 



EXTRACTSFROMA BOTANIST'S JOURNAL. 



BY M. D. 



A picture of a ditch and its surroundings. 

 Which ditch is close, and parallel with, a bank of 

 the Erie Canal, in the outskirts of Rochester. 

 Picture taken on the spot : 



From one side to the other of it the Sagittaria 

 grows, S. variabilis, the upper points of its arrow- 

 shaped leaves touching an unseen plane as much 

 eight or ten inches above the water's surface. The 

 vertical stem, or scape, and straight divergent 

 branches, tipped with white flowers, of the water 

 plantain (Alisma Plantago), right before me, are 

 eye-catching. This is a flower panicle, and must 

 rise thirty inches above the water, surpassing the 

 leaves by nearly twenty. Its roots are with those 

 of the arrow-head in the mud below. Around and 

 amongst these two, hke mere lines of greenness, 

 surmounted with an oblong brown head some- 

 what broader than themselves, I notice the culms 

 of Eleocharis palustris ; and beyond, still in the 

 water, bunches of the soft rush, Juncus efifusus, 

 reach a height of two feet above their fellows. 

 Two species of duck's-meat float on the water, the 

 many-rooted Lemna polyrhiza, and the slightly 

 smaller L. perpusilla. 



Sagittaria heterophylla may be here. I do not 

 see it, but I know it is not far away. Much above 

 all the preceding, even the Alisma, shoots Typha 

 latifolia, the species of cat-tail that has the fertile 

 and infertile parts of its spike closely joined. 



A grass, Leersia oryzoides, with leaves and 

 sheaths excessively harsh, and not yet in flower, 

 gives a pale green edge to the ditch ; whilst 

 crowding upon it we see Agrostis alba perhaps, 

 and higher, the dark bluish-green Poa pratensis, 

 or Kentucky blue-grass. Here and there, growing 



in the ditch's muddy edge, we observe the bugle- 

 weed — the European species with sharp angled 

 stems and deeply sinuate leaves. Over the bugle- 

 weed, and forming a border to the whole, rises 

 Solidago Canadensis, a great array of it, suggesting 

 indeed as many human onlookers. 



Amongst the golden-rod, and extending still 

 further back, the wild teasel, Dipsacus sylvestris, 

 mingles with the rapidly-fading Canada thistle, C. 

 arvense, the latter's woolly seeds at top, now of- 

 fering themselves to every passing breeze. 



The dry and yellow stems, and closely-appressed 

 spikes of Festuca elatior, are conspicuous beyond, 

 with Maruta cotula in flower ; brown dark-and- 

 dead-panicled Rumex crispus, Aster patens, and 

 the young basket willow, with its upright branches 

 and gray-green leaves. Sweet scabious, or Eri- 

 geron annum, and mayhap E. strigosum, still 

 flower there, but in faded dress ; also flat-um- 

 belled Daucus Carota, tall E. Canadense, not 

 quite in bloom, with the yellow-racemed Meli- 

 lotus officinalis, the brighter and biennial evening 

 primrose, and a group of Canada thistles that are 

 late in showing their handsome purple flower 

 heads. 



There I see a Solidago, apparently right in the 

 ditch, and as it is in flower should be S. arguta or 

 S. gigantea. But not to be forgotten, Asclepias 

 Cornuti, now in fruit, stands before me. If a flower 

 umbel surmounts its stem, it has lost color and is 

 limp, for its blooming day is past. Not in sight, 

 but certainly in the glen yonder, the handsome 

 umbelled A. incarnata has taken its place. Daisy 

 fleabane, previously mentioned as sweet scabious, 

 is here in force to my right, but its stems look 

 yellow and its flowers are not as bright as they 

 have been. At my feet I have red clover, young 

 stools of the wild teasel, bright looking leaf rosettes 

 of the dandelion, black medick showing its yellow 

 flowers and ripened fruit at once, flowering ox-eye 



