::::::::sSv: THE TROPICS B:""-- 



inscription would have been false after all ; all hope 

 need not have been left behind. A few steps take him 

 to the portal in the outer air, and his tiny Avings bear 

 him away into the sunlight. 



But the memories of the feast in the magic chamber 

 overcome all remembrance of the forced confinement ; 

 and our midge soon seeks another newly opened 

 blossom with its inviting doorstep. As in the case of 

 the first flower, the anthers are closed as yet, but the 

 stigma is waiting for the fertilizing pollen from another 

 blossom. In comes the black midge, urged on by 

 a similar circle of recurved hairs. As he enters the 

 chamber, the pollen on his body brushes against the 

 stio-ma and the mission and real meaning of all this 

 elaborate entertainment for the midge is perfectly 

 accomplished. The desires of the midge were all 

 selfish ; and even the apparently gratuitous luncheon 

 provided by the blossom was only a means to the all- 

 important end of providing for the seeds of the next 

 season. 



But the magic goes a step farther. When the midge 

 emerges from this blossom, if some pleasant memory 

 should attract him back to the first flower, he would 

 find himself rebuffed — the door locked in his face 

 as it were. No sweet musky odour comes from the 

 cells, now shrivelled and dried, and the stepping- 

 stone lobe of the spathe, instead of being spread out, 

 is withered and bent down across the opening, shut- 



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