142 A DESCRIPTION OF THE DAISY. 



it yields itself in anticipation, as it were to its fate. And, 

 first, its long and fibrous roots anchor it so solidly in the soil 

 that the cattle which browse it cannot tear it up. Next, its 

 stem is so short that it seems to be blended with the roots ; 

 one might almost doubt whether any existed. But, if you 

 look at it more closely, you may readily assure yourself that 

 the stem is the point whence issue the recumbent branches 

 which bear the leaves. Why does not the daisy boast of 

 stems erect and free? Would they not be incessantly bent 

 or broken by the merry troops of children who love to play 

 and dance upon Nature's carpet, the soft green sward ? 



The leaves of our daisy, then, seem to issue directly from 

 the roots, without the intermediary of an apparent stem, which 

 must not be confounded recollect this, dear reader! with 

 the stalk or peduncle that bears the crown of petals. These 

 leaves in form resemble tiny crenelated spatules, with the 

 handles flattened, and the edges trimmed with little hairs 

 or fibres. The peduncle, too, seems to start immediately from 

 the roots. The principal part of the peduncle is surmounted, 

 as already hinted, by the flower, to which we next direct our 

 inquisitive and searching gaze. 



What shall we call it? To what shall we liken it? To 

 a gilded button framed in a pearl. This button, this " yellow- 

 eye," as Tabernsemontanus, a botanist of the sixteenth cen- 

 tury, named it, the "eye of day" of our old poets, a 

 drop of gold in a rim of silver, is not like any other flower ; 

 is quite a world or system of Lilliputian blossoms, each of 



