A-MAYING 



29 



Clumps of wild ginger next engaged our atten- 

 tion. The broad leaves shone like watered silk in 

 the light. We had to go over one whole patch to 

 see that each plant was doing its duty in the mak- 

 ing of flowers, and we 

 never failed to find a 

 flower between each 

 pair of overarching 

 leaves. Such a quaint, 

 unpretentious wild- 

 ing, with its cheek 

 against the ground ! 

 Further along, the 

 ground was taken up 

 by May-apples now 

 in full blossom. Here 

 again I stopped to 

 point out to Ellen how stoutly these plants cling 

 to their old habits, for, as we lifted the umbrellas 

 of the single -leaved plants, seeking for a flower, 

 not one did we find. But between the twin leaves 

 of each fruitful plant drooped the solitary waxen 

 blossom. In a renovated fence -row near home 

 the mandrakes had come up weeks ago. Even 

 when the folded umbrellas first broke through 

 the soil we could tell which ones would bring 

 forth apples. The flower bud comes first from the 

 ground, being borne aloft by the leaves. As the 

 umbrellas spread on their ever stiffening ribs, the 

 buds grow bigger, but not until the leaves spread 

 wide apart does the bud droop on its lengthening 

 stem and hide its face in their protecting shade. 



THE QUAINT WILD GINGER BLOSSOMS 



