The Sleeping of the Fields 371 



mer is ended, have attained full growth, blossomed, 

 and set and ripened their seed. They are fading, 

 not because frost has nipped them, but because old 

 age has come upon them and their life-work is 

 done. Dying, they bequeath their goods to their 

 descendants and natural heirs. The materials 

 drawn out of their leaves go into the ripening seeds, 

 to be used, next spring, in the nurture of the seed- 

 lings. These annuals, after their seeds are ripe, 

 are little else than an empty network of dry dead 

 cells. The sweet alyssum and mignonette are meta- 

 morphosed into what he who clears up the garden 

 calls " straw," their juices having gone to fill out 

 the seeds, which are now ripe and ready, in innum- 

 erable little pockets, green or brown. 



In scientific botany the little pockets of the fruit, 

 which hold the ripened seed, are known as " lo- 

 culi." If we cut an apple across we will see five 

 of these loculi arranged in the form of a star. 

 They have transparent, horny, brownish walls and 

 in each is a seed or two. 



Another use of the term loculi is familiar to the 

 classicist and to the antiquarian. In the catacombs 

 of Rome there are wall-spaces all honeycombed 

 with niches designed to hold the bodies of the 

 dead, or the urns containing their ashes. And each 

 of these is called a " loculus." 



