Dandelions 37 



has been fighting the gardeners for many genera- 

 tions has naturally developed more fertility of re- 

 source than has its aristocratic relation which the 

 gardeners cosset and coddle. The gamin of the 

 slums can take care of himself and of his little 

 sister, too, at an age when a rich man's son would 

 not be trusted out of his nurse's sight. 



The dandelion is a gamin of the fields, sunny- 

 faced, uncared for, and getting but a rough life of 

 it amid cold spring rains and east winds. Like 

 the human gamin it must look out for number 

 one in adverse circumstances, and therefore Mother 

 Nature expended much ingenuity on the outfit of 

 this humble plant before she sent it forth into a 

 hostile world. 



The dandelion gets its name not from the 

 golden blossom, with its sweet promise of spring's 

 return, but from the foliage. The word is a cor- 

 ruption of the French dent de lion (lion's tooth), 

 and refers to the jagged edges of the leaves. 



Taraxicum is the plant's botanic cognomen, and 

 the nauseous medicine of the same name is ex- 

 tracted from the root. The same bitter principle 

 is in leaves and stalks, but our Irish citizens 

 extract the nauseous taste by long, gentle boiling, 

 and make of dandelion leaves a wholesome and 



