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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



columl)inc secretes a bitter juice that often 

 foils the invaders. 



Dr. Prior declares that the columbine got its 

 name because of the resemblance of its nec- 

 taries to the heads of pigeons in a ring around 

 •i dish— a favorite device of ancient artists. 



BROAD-LEAVED ARROW-HEAD 



(Sagittaria latifolia Willd.) 



(See page 484) 



Loving shallow water and muddy soils, the 

 liroad-leaved arrow-head is stih equally at 

 home on the banks of the Rio Grande and on 

 the shores of Hudson Bay. Its flowering sea- 

 son is from July to September. 



No flower of the field or forest can survive 

 long unless it learns to adjust itself to its en- 

 vironment. It is only the cultivated plant that 

 cannot do this. Years of reliance upon man 

 to fight its battles for it have taken from the 

 cultivated plant all ability to fight its own bat- 

 tle of existence. Who ever heard of lettuce 

 being able to flourish outside of the garden? 

 Or the bean? Or the beet? Or the cabbage? 

 Their resourcefulness has been bred out of 

 them and they must have their homes prepared 

 for them. 



Not so with weed and wild flower. With 

 no hand to help them, they fight their battle 

 for the survival of the fittest with their own 

 generalship and their own forces. How strik- 

 nigly is this illustrated by the arrovv-head ! 

 Loving the water, it must be in a position to 

 maintain itself when the freshet of June comes 

 and submerges it, and again when the drought 

 of August steals the last vestige of water from 

 its pool. 



So it is able to breathe under water like a 

 fish and out of the water like a dry-land crea- 

 ture. When it is under water, there are nar- 

 row, ribbon-like leaves which give a maximum 

 of surface exposure to the water, and yet a 

 minimum of resistance; but when it grows on 

 dry ground the ribbon-like leaves fall off, and 

 the big, broad arrow-head leaves that give the 

 plant its name assimilate the carbonic acid gas, 

 give off oxygen, and ward off an oversupply 

 of sunshine. 



THE VIRGINIA COWSLIP OR BLUE- 

 BELL (Mertensia virginica (L.) DC.) 



(See page 485) 



When Harry Lauder sings about the lassie 

 he loves who is as modest as her namesake, 

 the bluebell, he accords her high praise, for the 

 I'.nglish bluebell is not fairer or more modest 

 ihan its American namesake, and who has not 

 imted the simple, drooping modesty of this fair 

 little inhabitant of the meadows of eastern 

 America 1 



In April and early May it comes out to 

 cheer the waiting world, a little behind the 

 arbutus, the crocus, and the daffodil. It loves 

 tile alluvial low ground of the meadow land 

 and ranges from southern Canada to South 



Carolina and Kansas. Its flowers stay with us 

 until late May. 



No lover of the beautiful has ever failed to 

 pay tribute to the bluebell. Its drooping porce- 

 lain-blue bells have won praise from the nat- 

 uralists of the world. An English writer pays 

 high tribute to them, saying that no flower sur- 

 passes the bluebell family in beauty of form 

 and foliage or in the graceful way in which 

 they rise to panicles of blue. The fairest of 

 them he rates the Virginia cowslip. 



Every insect that loves nectar can drink at 

 the bluebell's bar, for "broad is the gate and 

 wide is the way, and many there be that go in 

 thereat." But every insect that comes must be 

 a pollen-bearer, for the bluebell needs must 

 have cross-fertilization. 



One of the unexplained idiosyncrasies of the 

 bumblebees occurs in conjunction with their 

 feasts out of the bluebell's honej^ well. Only 

 the female bumblebee is flying when the blue- 

 bell blooms, and they are able to sip far deeper 

 cups than the bluebell can offer ; but, whether 

 from laziness or mischief or what, they may 

 frequenth' be seen trying to dodge their duties 

 as pollen-bearers by perforating the cups in- 

 stead of draining them in a legitimate manner. 



HEDGE OR GREAT BINDWEED (Con- 

 volvulus sepium L.) 



(See page 486) 



A hobo among flowers is the bindweed. It 

 has traveled up and down the lanes of world- 

 trade for centuries, until it has come to claim 

 most of the northern hemisphere for its abid- 

 ing place. It is one of America's most bother- 

 some weeds, as any farmer's son can bear wit- 

 ness who has operated a harrow or a grain 

 drill when preparing corn ground for wheat 

 sowing in the fall. 



It loves wayside hedges and thickets, where 

 it climbs over everything in its fight for the 

 survival of the fittest; but it simply rejoices 

 when it gets into a corn-field and can utilize 

 the tall stalks of corn as a nature-built trellis 

 for it. In our own country it has found the 

 Rocky Mountains a barrier, and for the time 

 being has had its star of empire arrested here, 

 on its broad sweep around the northern world. 



The flowering season of the great bindweed 

 is the June-September period. A close relative 

 of the fair morning-glory, its flowers are 

 shaped like those of that charming summer 

 visitor and behave something like them. It is 

 a rather early riser, and lives out the doctrine 

 that "early to bed and early to rise" produces 

 health, wealth, and wisdom ; for it goes to bed 

 when the sun goes down, except on moonlight 

 nights, when it keeps open house for the benefit 

 of certain moths that are its especial friends. 



A curious thing about the great bindweed is 

 the fact that it cannot maintain itself, hardy 

 and self-reliant as it is, where its special insect 

 friends do_ not dwell. In Europe a certain 

 moth flourishes in some districts, is rare in 

 others, and entirely absent in still others. 

 Wherever the moth is numerous the bindw^eed 



