72 WILD FLOWERS. 



The singular movement of this plant, and 

 the others just referred to, has often been ad- 

 duced in support of the theory, that vegetables 

 are endowed with sensation. Wordsworth has 

 said, 



" It is my faith that every flower 

 Enjoys the air it breatlies." 



In modern times, this belief seems almost 

 left to the poet ; but a few years since, it was 

 held by the philosopher. 



We can now scarcely walk a step from the 

 paved ways of the city, without seeing the small 

 reddish-white blossoms of the knotgrass, {Poly- 

 gonum aviculare.) This little plant is as fa- 

 miliar to our view, as the meadow grass. Form- 

 ing green patches by every wayside, on the 

 borders of the public highway ; shooting up 

 under the walls of the crowded city, or even 

 between the stones of the street. Commoner 

 than even that common flower, the daisy ; yet 

 it is scarcely known by name, to any but the 

 botanist. Milton speaks of it, as 



" The knotgrass dew besprent ;" 



and George Herbert, in giving his advice to the 

 country parson, on the choice of wholesome and 

 medicinal herbs, enumerates this. Notwith- 

 standing its former repute, no " simpler " of 

 modern times would gather it ; and the lover 

 of wild flowers often treads over it daily, with- 

 out any regard. This plant, though called 

 grass, has little more affinity to the true grasses, 

 thai! that elegant white flower, which, from its 

 beautv, has been termed the grass of Parnassus. 



