CRUCIFEROUS TRIBE 



61 



gether base ; down in that, if you will look deep, you may see the dark 

 serious blue of far-off sky, and the passing of pure clouds. It is at your 

 own will that you see in that despised stream either the refuse of the street, 

 or the image of the sky — so it is with almost all other things that we 

 unkindly despise." 



But the water-cress stream, whether running by the wayside, or half 

 hiding itself amid shadowing trees, is almost sure to be discovered by some 

 poor woman who earns a scanty subsistence by gathering and selling the 

 wholesome salad. In all countries, from Sweden to Greece, and in the 

 streams among the hills of India, Brazil, Austi-alia, everywhere may be 

 found the water-cress. The Parisian calls it Cresson au Poulet, because he eats 

 it with his roasted fowl ; and the French peasant terms it Cresson de Fontaine. 

 The substantial luncheon of the German is not without its Brunnenkresse ; 

 while its name of IFaterkers, still used by the Dutch, was probably, too, its 

 old English name, for, as Dr. Jacob has suggested, the vulgar proverl) of not 

 caring a "curse " for anything was doubtless originally not caring a cress, 

 Chaucer referring to the plant by the old Saxon name of Kers. The Italians 

 gave it the sweet-sounding name of Crescione, while it bears many a strange 

 and uncouth name in some of the lands where the language shows the rude- 

 ness of the people. 



That the water-cress has long been used as a salad, both herbalists and 

 poets have told us. Robert Herrick, who in his later years lamented the 

 " unbaptized rhymes " of his youth, has a little thanksgiving poem, beautiful 

 for its simplicity, in which he alludes to it : — 



" Lord, Thou liast given me a cell 



Wherein to dwell ; 

 A little house, whose humble roof 



Is weather-proof, 

 Under the spars of which I lie, 



Both soft and dry ; 

 Where Thou my chamber soft to ward, 



Hast set a guard 

 Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep 



Me while I sleep. 

 Low is my porch as is my fate, 



Both void of state ; 

 And yet tlie threshold of my door 



Is worn by the poor, 

 Who hither come and freely get 



Good words or meat. 



Like as my parlour, so my hall 



And kitchen's small ; 

 A little butterie, and therein 



A little byn : — • 

 Some little sticks of thorn or brier 



Make me a fire. 

 Close by whose livihg coal I sit 



And glow like it. 

 Lord, I confess too, when I dine 



The pulse is Thine, 

 And all those other bits that be 



There placed by Thee — 

 The worts, the purslane, and the mess 



Of water-cress.' 



Generally acceptable, however, as are the pungent leaves of the water- 

 cress, they could excite the most painful sensations in the mind of the 

 learned Scaliger, who used to tiu'n pale at the very sight of them. They 

 are said, by Miiller, to contain iodine ; and the late M. Blanche, and other 

 chemists, have proved that they, as well as some other cruciferous plants, 

 contain sulphvir. M. Vogel, son., remarking this fact, thought that as soils 

 distant from volcanoes have not any perceptible traces of sulphur, it is not 

 impossible that plants which are much disposed to assimilate it may have 

 the property of deriving sulphur from the decomposition of the sulphuric 

 acid of sulphates. M. Vogel, however, found afterwards, that seeds placed 

 in a soil perfectly free from sulphur or sulphates, yielded plants which con- 



