AMONG THE WILD-FLOWERS 3 



above the other. You see a whorl of five or 

 six leaves, a foot or more from the ground, 

 which seems to bear a standard with another 

 whorl of three leaves at the top of it. The 

 small, colorless, recurvecj flowers shoot out 

 from above this top whorl. The whole expres- 

 sion of the plant is singularly slender and grace- 

 ful. Sometimes, probably the first year, it 

 only attains to the first circle of leaves. This 

 is the platform from which it will rear its 

 flower column the next year. Its white, 

 tuberous root is crisp and tender, and leaves in 

 the mouth distinctly the taste of cucumber. 

 Whether or not the Indians used it as a relish 

 as we do the cucumber, I do not know. 



Still another pretty flower that perpetuates 

 the name of a Grecian nymph, a flower that was 

 a new find to me a few summers ago, is the Are- 

 thusa. Arethusa was one of the nymphs who 

 attended Diana, and was by that goddess turned 

 into a fountain, that she might escape the god 

 of the river Alpheus, who became desperately 

 in love with her on seeing her at her bath. 

 Our Arethusa is one of the prettiest of the 

 orchids, and has been pursued through many a 

 marsh and quaking bog by her lovers. She is 

 a bright pink-purple flower an inch or more 

 long, with the odor of sweet violets. The 

 sepals and petals rise up and arch over the 

 column, which we may call the heart of the 

 flower, as if shielding it. In Plymouth County, 

 Massachusetts, where the Arethusa seems com- 

 mon, I have heard it called Indian pink. 



