326 Field, Forest, and Wayside Flowers 



The gorse (Fig. 92), the hawthorne, and the 

 orange-tree are guarded by thorns indeed. But 

 the so-called "thorns" which mar our delight in 

 the queen of flowers are in reality prickles, and 

 so are the natural defences of the blackberry and 

 the thistle. 



Further south, where life teems, under a semi- 

 tropic sun, and the struggle for existence is keen 

 in proportion to the number of the organisms en- 

 gaged in it, many plants are provided with defen- 

 sive and even offensive weapons, which make them 

 formidable to all who venture too near. The cac- 

 tus, for instance, is a succulent plant, growing on 

 sandy plains, glaring rocks, or shining beaches, 

 where such juicy stalks would be peculiarly grate- 

 ful to parched throats; and it is dotted all over its 

 surface with dense clusters of small but very pen- 

 etrating and poisonous prickles. The pineapple, 

 another refreshing thing native to thirsty lands, has 

 foliage like the cheval-de-frieze of mediaeval war- 

 fare. The fruit " sits,' ' as its southern cultivators 

 might say, in the midst of a ring of erect sword- 

 shaped leaves, every one of which is bordered, for 

 its entire length, along both edges, with sharp 

 thorns. The pineapple gatherers are obliged to 

 work in leathern boots reaching to their hips, and 



