ii6 PLANTS GROWING IN MOIST SOIL. 



SLENDER DAY FLOWER. {Plate LV I) 



Commelhia erecta. 



FAMILY COLOUR ODOUR RANGE TIME OF BLOOM 



Spider-djort. Blue. Scentless. Pen?i. southward August^ September. 



and ivestivard. 



Flowers : terminal ; solitary ; irregular ; growing from an upper spathe-like 

 leaf. Cc7lvx : unequal; the larger sepals being united. Corolla: of three un- 

 equal petals ; one very inconspicuous. Perfect stamens : three ; one incurved 

 with large anther. Sterile stainens : three; small. Pistil: one. Leaves: al- 

 ternate : lanceolate ; clasping. Stem : erect ; leafy. 



In the generic name of the day flowers, Linnaeus has per- 

 petrated a scathing invective on all that are so unwise as to be 

 indifferent to the claims of botany. Of the three Commelyn 

 brothers, who were Dutch botanists, two were very scientific 

 and published works on the subject. They are designated by 

 the two large petals of the flowers. The third brother was less 

 studious and published nothing. It has been his fate to be ever 

 afterwards associated with the small, insignificant petal. 



COMMON DAY FLOWER. 



Commelhia Virginica. 



FAMILY COLOUR ODOUR RANGE TIME OF BLOOM 



Spiderivort. Blue. Scentless. New York to Florida. Summer. 



Flowers : terminal ; solitary ; irregular ; growing from an upper spathe-like 

 leaf. Calyx : unequal ; the larger sepals being united. Corolla : of three un- 

 equal petals ; one very inconspicuous. Stamens : six ; both sterile and fertile ; 

 three of which project beyond the petals. Pistil : one. Leaves : lanceolate ; con- 

 tracted at the base ; becoming spathe-like as they approach the flower. Stem : 

 branching ; smooth. Juice : mucilaginous. 



The day flower is exactly what one would suppose to be a 

 happy, innocent blossom. Its blue is so pure and it remains 

 with us for such a short time that it is not affected by the levity 

 and frivolity of the world. For just one day it opens its bright 

 countenance to the sunshine, when its work in life is done and 

 its petals most curiously melt into a sort of jelly, where we can 

 no longer follow their doings. 



