GRASSES AND SEDGES 121 
support any vestige of life,so dry and barren are they, 
the marram grass is slowly making its way, binding the 
loose sand together and holding it against the winds. 
And where the grass has made good its hold for some 
years, it has made life possible for other plants. Seeds 
of sea-pinks, that would have perished miserably but for 
the shelter given, have been enabled to sink their roots, 
and are now varying the rather commonplace marram 
grass with their bright tufts. 
I do not here propose to attempt to distinguish between 
the 120 species of native grasses that we can boast, but 
I would most strongly advise that, if and when you begin 
collecting, you should not neglect them. They will well 
repay any amount of trouble, and will certainly cause it. 
Owing to their close relationship to one another, and 
perhaps to the fact that they are casually fertilised by 
the wind, one meets with many forms that can only be 
explained as hybrids between closely-allied species. 
The general type of the grass family is uniform enough, 
whether it be the giant Bamboo rising to 170 feet, or the 
tiny grass that springs up at short notice even in the 
cracks between the paving-stones of a town roadway. 
The stem is almost always hollow, with solid nodes, or 
joints; that is to say, the tube is intersected at the joints 
by a plate of strong tissue, which may be supposed to 
strengthen it. The leaves are always long, thin, and 
pointed, with this peculiar feature, that they do not join 
the stem really at the point at which they appear to leave 
it, but run down it with a close embrace to the next 
joint, concealing the stem from sight. Thus, we never 
really see any part of the grass stem, except that which 
bears the flowers. By the character of this embrace the 
grasses are distinguished from the sedges. The former 
