150 IN SPRING. 



until they shut out the sun, but never reach their 

 weed-grown habitations. 



It was greener still in March ; but in April, 

 when the meadow ditches are being decked with 

 splatter- dock and calla, arrow-head and sweet- 

 flag, golden-club and equisetum, then from the 

 bottom of more than one small pond spring up 

 sharp, spear-pointed rolls of rank green leaves, 

 growing until the water's quiet surface is pierced, 

 and a stout stem bears into view two parallel rolls 

 of delicate leaf tissue. I refer to the rare yellow 

 lotus. Perhaps not for all time a native, but it has 

 long since earned its right to a place in our flora. 



Most interesting is the beautiful adaptation 

 of the leaf to its surroundings at the outset of its 

 growth. Tightly twisted and pointed obliquely 

 upward, it meets with no resistance from the 

 water, and runs no risk of entanglement with 

 other growths. Once at the surface, the unrolling 

 is rapidly effected, and a bronze chalice with an 

 emerald lining is ready to catch the dew as it 

 falls. The circular perfected leaf, often twenty 

 inches in diameter, is usually supported on a 

 foot-stalk fivfe or six feet in height, and among 

 them often many floating leaves. Certainly no 

 other of our aquatic plants has so striking an ap- 

 pearance, not even the wild-rice at its best - 



That tangled, trackless, wind-tossed waste, 

 Above a watery wilderness. 



