ANY one who visits the evergreen forests of Minnesota, 

 Wisconsin and Michigan is struck by the strange flow- 

 ers, which carpet every sunny spot and frequently 

 grow also in the shade of birch .and balsam as well as on 

 the spongy moss-beds of spruce and tamarack swamps. 



The strangest of all woodland flowers is the pitcher plant, 

 so-called from its pitcher-shaped leaves. These leaves grow 

 in the form of a rosette in the peat-moss and each leaf forms 

 a wide-mouthed pitcher and can hold from one-half to one 

 and a half ounces of water. 



The leaves are catch-basins for live insects, which are 

 drowned in the liquid and partly digested; so we have here 

 a plant which reverses the general plan of nature; it is not 

 eaten by animals, but does itself prey on animals. 



How the Insects Are Entrapped. 



The methods and mechanism for entrapping unwary in- 

 sects are very remarkable. Near the edge of the hollow leaf 

 is a purple rim, from which a sweet liquid is exuded. This 

 rim, however is very slippery and in addition is covered with 

 short, downward-pointing bristles. The hungry insect finds 

 the footing very insecure and soon slips into the watery trap 

 below. It now makes frantic efforts to escape, but the inner 

 wall of the pitcher is so smooth that a drowning fly might 

 as well try to crawl up the wall of a smooth china pitcher. 

 Soon the unhappy fly or bug ceases its struggles, the soft 

 parts of the body are dissolved in the liquid, and the pitcher 

 plant actually eats him up by absorbing the dissolved flesh. 



The flowers of the pitcher plant are as unique as its leaves. 

 The dark brown petals of the nodding flower form a com- 

 plete rain and dew-proof tent over the numerous stamens and 

 the odd leaf-like pistil. The flowers, however, live on friendly 

 terms with the insect world, furnishing both food and shelter 

 to numerous small creatures that carry their pollen from one 

 blossom to another. 



tl 



