THE PASTURE THISTLE. 25 



has its virtues, no doubt, but they are not of the pleasing or 

 conciliatory kind. If people want to admire it for what it has of 

 worth or beauty, well and good, they may stand off and admire. 

 If they don't, it is all the same to the thistle. It is bound to 

 stand on its own feet, defend its own rights, and occupy its own 

 place, let the world wag as" it may. There seems to be a certain 

 sturdiness of moral character about it which is not unlike what 

 we find in similar independent, thistly, strongly individualized, 

 and not very agreeable human mortals. They are here, and here 

 to stay, and to take care of their own, not without pugnacity, 

 giving and taking thrusts. The world may be pleased or dis- 

 pleased, it matters little to them ; and the rest of us console 

 ourselves by thinking about them, " Oh, well, it takes all sorts of 

 people to make a world." 



While something may be said in a general way in behalf of 

 this friendless weed, I should not expect to make it a favorite 

 with the farmer. He is blinded by prejudice, a prejudice, how- 

 ever, not altogether without some good grounds ; for this plant 

 yields food neither to himself nor his beast, and it absorbs much 

 of the vital strength of the soil which ought to go to nourish 

 his grain or his grass. Besides, I have no doubt he carries the 

 memory of many sharp and painful thrusts which it has given 

 him when he has taken it up unawares with his sheaves of 

 wheat or oats. 



But the most interesting thing about the Thistle is the in- 

 genious way by which it contrives to scatter its seed, just as 

 though there wouldn't be thistles enough for all practical pur- 

 poses if the seeds were left to take their chances of planting by 

 wind and weather. Nature has contrived for every one of its 



