ACCORDING TO SEASON 



of cinnamon-ferns which do not seem happy in 

 their surroundings, a fact accounted for when we 

 notice that here the meadow is a dry marsh, not 

 affording the ferns sufficient nourishment for their 

 full development. They hold themselves rigid 

 and erect, and are quite without the grace and 

 stateliness for which usually they are conspicu- 

 ous. The woolly -stemmed, cinnamon -colored 

 fruit-clusters which spring from the centre of the 

 plant are now withered and either cling to the 

 stalks of the green fronds or lie upon the ground. 



Scattered among the cinnamon-ferns are clus- 

 ters of the royal fern, a kinsman that appears 

 equally ill at ease. Its stature is stunted and its 

 uncompromising air fails to suggest the bearing 

 which won for it the title of royal fern. 



The interrupted fern, the other member of 

 what is, perhaps, our most distinguished group 

 of native ferns, the osmundas, grows back against 

 the fence. It seems somewhat less affected by 

 its environment, although the erect fronds which 

 fruit half way up the midrib, set, as it were, in 

 a vase formed by the shorter, outward-curving, 

 sterile fronds, are less noticeable for their height 

 than when found under conditions more to their 

 liking. 



High above these dwarfed representatives of 

 a royal family shoot the tall white wands of the 



102 



