THE WILD CAMOMILE 



became crowded all together on a more or less 

 fiat surface, so that the bee could, as it were, tumble 

 out of one into the next immediately, without 

 seeking for it round and up or down the stem. 

 This, of course, would result in a great sa\ing of 

 time in the day's work of the busy bee, and the 

 bee would thus be able to visit many more flowers. 

 Then if the same plant narrowed down its tubular 

 flowers into smaller tubes, so that the bee would 

 only have to thrust in its proboscis or tongue to 

 reach the nectar, instead of entering the flowers, a 

 still further advantage would be gained in the 

 same direction. 



It is easily seen that our camomile daisy has 

 done all these things. If 3^ou could take hold of 

 the centre florets of a daisy blossom, at the point 

 where the youngest flowers are found, and pull it 

 upwards, spiral-fashion, until it became straight- 

 ened out, just as you might the centre of a watch- 

 spring, you would then have in miniature a stalk 

 with numerous florets arranged about it with the 

 youngest at the top, very like the foxglove. Or, 

 conversely, if you could press in from the top, 

 spiral-fashion, the stalk of the foxglove so that the 

 youngest flowers were left in the centre and the 

 oldest outside, you would have produced a kind of 

 large daisy. I do not mean, of course, that daisies 

 have originated from foxgloves, but simply desire 

 to show how the shortening of a stalk of bell- or 

 tube-shaped flowers could produce a daisy-like 

 inflorescence. 



Now, if we look at Fig. 2 (Plate 2), we see the 



II 



