230 WILD FLOWER FAMILIES 



unfolded are crowded together to close the mouth 

 of the blossom. Many who have never seen the 

 flower growing in its native haunts have learned 

 to love it through those exquisite lines by Bryant : 



Thou waitest late and com'st alone, 

 When woods are bare and birds are flown, 

 And frosts and shortening days portend 

 The aged year is near his end : 

 Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye 

 Look through its fringes to the sky, 

 Blue, blue, as if that sky let fall 

 A flower from its cerulean wall. 



These lines are beautiful even though their en- 

 tire accuracy as to time of the flower's appearance 

 has been questioned by the naturalist, and their 

 accuracy to its color has been questioned by the 

 artist. We must allow the poet a little of his 

 proverbial license, although we need not let him 

 blind us to the facts of Nature. 



Blue is a favorite color with all the bees, so one 

 might easily guess that these violet-blue blossoms 

 are visited by bumble-bees. The anthers shed 

 their pollen before the stigmas mature, so that 

 cross-pollination is easily brought about. And 

 the delicate fingers \vhich add so much beauty to 

 the blossoms seem also to be of decided service 

 to the plant in keeping out ants and other unwel- 

 come crawling insects, thus preventing the rob- 

 bery of nectar. 



