From Blue to Purple 



to gather some of these blossoms for his sweetheart, fell into a deep 

 pool, and threw a bunch on the bank, calling out, as he sank for- 

 ever from her sight, "Forget me not." Another dismal myth 

 sends its hero forth seeking hidden treasure caves in a mountain, 

 under the guidance of a fairy. He fills his pockets with gold, 

 but not heeding the fairy's warning to "forget not the best " i.e., 

 the myosotis he is crushed by the closing together of the moun- 

 tain. Happiest of all is the folk-tale of the Persians, as told by 

 their poet Shiraz : "It was in the golden morning of the early 

 world, when an angel sat weeping outside the closed gates of 

 Paradise. He had fallen from his high estate through loving a 

 daughter of earth, nor was he permitted to enter again until she 

 whom he loved had planted the flowers of the forget-me-not in 

 every corner of the world. He returned to earth and assisted her, 

 and together they went hand in hand. When their task was ended, 

 they entered Paradise together, for the fair woman, without tasting 

 the bitterness of death, became immortal like the angel whose love 

 her beauty had won when she sat by the river twining forget-me- 

 nots in her hair." 



It was the golden ring around the forget-me-not's centre that 

 first led Sprengel to believe the conspicuous markings at the en- 

 trance of many flowers served as pathfinders to insects. This 

 golden circle also shelters the nectar from rain, and indicates to 

 the fly or bee just where it must probe between stigma and 

 anthers to touch them with opposite sides of its tongue. Since 

 it may probe from any point of the circle, it is quite likely that 

 the side of the tongue that touched a pollen-laden anther in one 

 flower will touch the stigma in the next one visited, and so cross- 

 fertilize it. But forget-me-nots are not wholly dependent on in- 

 sects. When these fail, a fully mature flower is still able to set 

 fertile seed by shedding its own pollen directly on the stigma. 



The Smaller Forget-me-not (M. laxa), formerly accounted a 

 mere variety of palustris, but now defined as a distinct species, 

 is a native, and therefore may serve to show how its European 

 relative here will deteriorate in the dryer atmosphere of the New 

 World. Its tiny turquoise flowers, borne on long stems from a 

 very loose raceme, gleam above wet, muddy places from New- 

 foundland and Eastern Canada to Virginia and Tennessee. 



Even smaller still are the blue or white flowers of the Field 

 Forget-me-not, Scorpion Grass, or Mouse-ear (M. arvents), 

 whose stems and leaves are covered with bristly hairs. It blooms 

 from August to July in dry places, even on hillsides, an unusual 

 locality in which to find a member of this moisture-loving clan. 

 All the flowers remain long in bloom, continually forming new 

 buds on a lengthening stem, and leaving behind little empty green 

 caliccs. 



3* 



