Natural History 



ing passage from Professor J. Arthur Thomson's Natural His- 

 tory Studies: 



The life of the plant is like a tide; it sets in with a 

 flood in the spring, manifesting itself in growth of stem and 

 exuberance of foliage; it rises to the high- water mark, and 

 turns in summer when the blossoms burst and the flowers 

 shine forth; it is well on the ebb by autumn, bearing on its 

 breast all manner of ripe fruits and seeds, treasures to be 

 cast on the shores of another spring. Each of these tidal 

 periods, one may say, has its characteristic colour: green 

 and gold are the colours of early spring; orange, red, and 

 purple mark the full splendour of summer flowers; the 

 autumn, with its flame-like, often blood-like, withering 

 leaves, rivals all that has gone before. Is it not true to say 

 that the ebb-tide gleams with the glare of burning wrecks? 



Throughout the summer the leaf has lived an intense 

 life, far more intense than we are inclined to give plants 

 credit for, building up with the aid of the sunlight no small 

 quantity of sugar and more complex carbon compounds, 

 which are laid up in reserve in various parts of the plant. 

 In autumn, however, the vitality is checked; the movements 

 of the sap become very slight; and the leaves begin to die. 

 It is partly that they are in some measure worn out by the 

 summer's work, just as the bees are; it is partly that the 

 outer world has changed. It is well that they should die, 

 lest they begin to undo what they have so well done. 



But before they die they surrender to the plant that 

 bears them all the residue of their industry that is worth 

 having. There is a gentle current of sugar and other val- 

 uable materials from the dying leaf into the stem before the 

 breath of approaching winter. 



Virtually dead the leaves now are, empty houses, all dis- 

 mantled, with little more than ashes on the hearth. But 

 these ashes how glorious! for in yellow and orange, in red 

 and purple, in crimson and scarlet, the withering leaves shine 

 forth. They are transfigured in the very article of death, 

 in the low beams of the autumn sun. The yellowness is often 

 due to the breaking up of the green colouring matter called 



