XVII 



THE JEWEL -WEED'S LITTLE GAME 



BOTANIZING in the flats, through which the lower 

 reaches of Fall Brook and its companion streams 

 take their sluggish way, is no joke, especially in 

 midsummer when one must make a road through 

 forests of jewel -weed. This plant literally pos- 

 sesses acres of ground in that region and grows to 

 an astonishing height for an annual. Towering 

 often above our heads, its stems set as close as the 

 branching tops will allow, it offers a firm resist- 

 ance to the would-be explorer of damp places. 

 When swarmed over by the matted strands of 

 yellow dodder, it becomes almost impenetrable 

 and none but the most insistent cares to force an 

 entrance. 



At first I disliked the jewel-weed. Somehow 

 I felt a sort of personal grudge against it. It 

 was so juicy, so rank, so unnecessarily lusty, and 

 crowded everybody else so. Why did it persist- 

 ently choke out other plants just as worthy, in an 

 evident intention to inherit the whole earth ? What 

 was the secret of its success? 



I examined the flower and was somewhat molli- 

 fied by its daintiness. Jewel-weed it had always 

 been to me, and here were its jewels, swinging on 

 their elastic stems, for all the world like the old- 

 fashioned "ear-bobs" Aunt Betsy used to put in 



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