LATER YEARS OP A PLANT. 203 



carefully packed away in hard, air-tight shells. A mother 

 could not have better care for the cradle of her beloved 

 one. Then, when the seed is ripe, and has to be turned 

 out into the wide world to seek a resting-place and a 

 home, it is furnished with a crest of feathers, or intrusted 

 to a tiny embarkation. Nature gives it wings to fly with 

 or a boat to swim in. And so admirably is the minute 

 grain protected, that the smallest have often survived for 

 centuries. Easpberry-seeds, it is well known, have been 

 found in a barrow, thirty feet deep, alongside with coins 

 of the Emperor Hadrian, and yet, when sown, they have 

 borne fruit. The pyramids of the Pharaohs are crumbling 

 into dust, but the grains of wheat, found in their interior 

 and once more intrusted to the tender care of their 

 mother earth, have joyously sprouted and made an am- 

 ple return. 



The fruit undergoes, of all parts of the plant, perhaps 

 the largest number of remarkable changes, even after it 

 has already reached its full size and complete shape. Acid 

 whilst growing, it becomes sweet as it ripens, and is 

 sugary when perfectly mature. Fermentation makes it 

 vinous, and, dried up, it turns sour or bitter. Fruits vary 

 in taste, apparently to suit, by the kindness of an All- 

 wise Providence, the changing wants of man. During the 

 oppressive heat of summer, nature ripens for him juicy 

 and refreshing cherries, peaches and melons ; the more 

 sugary figs and mulberries disappear as fast as the bright 

 days that produced them. When the warm sun is leaving 

 us, and cold chills begin to threaten, more vinous fruits 

 ripen, like pears and apples, with their warm, nutritious 



