126 MY LIFE AS A NATURALIST 



nestling in its grassy bed. So shy is it that only by gently 

 parting the grasses am I able to discover the blue or white 

 blossoms, and insects, desirous of pillage, must, of necessity, 

 play hide and seek before they can pay their compliments to 

 odorata. 



Let the March winds blow ever so strong and cold, there is 

 almost sure to be some sheltered spot where one can find the 

 Violet. The flowers hide themselves in a most crafty way until 

 Jack Frost has finally bidden us adieu. Then they advertise 

 their wares to greater advantage ; but, as a matter of fact, this 

 favourite plant has also what are known to the botanist as cleisto- 

 gamous flowers. These are small and inconspicuous, and are 

 produced later in the year ; and, in addition, they are fertilised 

 without opening. 



Perhaps the pure White Violets appeal to one most as one 

 searches for them in the first days of Spring, silent, sweet-scented 

 ambassadors of brighter days to come ; but a colony of Blue 

 Violets on a sunny bankside is something to be remembered 

 by the wayfarer who is tempted out of doors at the uprising of 

 the sap. 



The poet Wordsworth writes of hedgerows as 



" Little lines of sportive wood run wild," 



and a saunter there during early Spring is sure to reveal many 

 vegetable treasures to the possessor of the seeing eye. 



Outdoor, or field, botany may be carried on successfully all 

 through the year, for even in Winter crafty seedlings may be 

 observed thrusting their fresh green coats above the earth's 

 surface, the childlings of the year. Winter, too, is a capital 

 time during which to study twigs and buds, and one is able to 

 become more intimately acquainted with trees and hedgerows 

 when they are disclosed in all their nakedness. 



Along a sunny southern hedgebank in Spring one is sure to 

 espy the golden chalice of the Lesser Celandine, or Buttercup, 

 as it is more generally called. At a season when wild flowers 

 are at a discount, it is pleasant to notice the burnished, star-cut 

 petals of this modest little wildling, as well as the glossy leaves 

 which so richly decorate the blossoms, and give them such a 

 beautiful setting. 



That the Lesser Celandine is a splendid coloniser is well known. 

 It exhibits, at all events, a wonderful habit of co-operation, 

 plant embracing plant, so as to cover every available inch of 



