THE FLOWERLESS PLANTS. 215 



a foothold upon the earth. Here we know them only 

 as an inferior tribe in relation to size, the tallest seldom 

 exceeding two or three feet in height. Every thing in 

 their appearance is singular, from the time when they 

 first push up their purple and yellow scrolls above the 

 surface of the soil, covered with a sort of downy plum 

 age, to the time when their leaves are spread out like 

 an eagle's wings, and their long spikes of russet flowers, 

 if they may be so called, stand erect above the weeds 

 and grasses, forming a beautiful contrast with the pure 

 summer greenness of all other vegetation. 



There are few plants that exceed in beauty and deli 

 cacy of structure the common maiden-hair. The main 

 stem is of a glossy jet, and divided into two principal 

 branches, that produce in their turn several other 

 branches from their upper side, resembling a compound 

 pinnate leaf without its formality. In woods in the 

 western part of this State is a remarkable fern called the 

 walking leaf. It derives its name from a singular habit 

 of striking root at the extremities of the fronds, giving 

 origin to new plants, and travelling along in this man 

 ner from one point to another. There is only one 

 climbing fern among our native plants. Equally beau 

 tiful and rare, it is found only in a few localities all the 

 way from Massachusetts to the West Indies. Unlike 

 other ferns in its twining habit, it has also palmate 

 leaves, with five lobes, and bears its fruit in a panicle, 

 like the osmunda. But we need not search out the rare 

 ferns for specimens of elegance or beauty. The com 

 mon polypody, with its minutely divided leaves, covers 

 the sides of steep woody hills and rocky precipices, and 

 adds a beautiful evergreen verdure to their barren 

 slopes, otherwise destitute of attractions. The ferns 

 and the mosses are peculiarly the ornaments of waste 



