THE LIFE OF A FERN. 189 



funnel-shafts to the germs below so fulfilling the purpose for 

 which they were designed and their curious swimming powers 

 were given. 



The germs, so fertilized, become the underground stems of 

 which I have yet to speak, putting forth roots and producing 

 the tender, rolled-up buds which finally expand into the fronds 

 whose grace and beauty we so much admire. 



These germs, appearing on the prothallium or leaf-like ex- 

 pansion of the spore, are the true representatives of seeds, and 

 the swimming bodies correspond to the pollen or fertilizing dust 

 of flowers. 



Thus we see that germs and means of fertilization are pro- 

 duced in the fern as truly as in higher plants, and that the 

 simple agency whereby the one may reach and exert the needful 

 action upon the other, is the dew-drop resting on the prothal- 

 lium from which they are developed. Without the dew-drop 

 or the rain-drop as a means of communication both must 

 perish with their mission unfulfilled. This is, perhaps, one of 

 the most singular instances ever to be found, of the mutual 

 dependency of created things, or, to give different expression 

 to the same idea, of the mode in which each link of the great 

 network of existence is connected with every other. 



Returning to the fern, whose " strange eventful history " we 

 have traced so far, the germ enlarges and becomes what is 

 usually called the root, but is really an underground stem. The 

 true roots are the little fibres often black and wiry, looking 

 more dead than alive which descend from this. 



The stem may be of two kinds long, thin, and creeping, as 

 in the common polypody, or short, stout, and upright, as in 

 the common male fem. 



At intervals along the creeping stem, or arranged more or 

 less regularly around the crown of the erect stem, little buds 

 appear, which eventually form the fronds which are the really 

 conspicuous portion of the plant, and whose aspect is familiar 

 to us all. The buds present a character of great interest and 

 singularity. Instead of being simply folded together, as leaves 

 generally are, in all but two of our British kinds the fronds 

 are rolled up after the fashion of a crosier or shepherd's crook. 

 In divided fronds, the sections are rolled up first, and singly, 

 and then the whole are rolled up again, as if forming but a 

 single piece. The aspect of some of these young fronds in 



