AUTUMN FLOWERS. 



Thoreau counsels those who are af- 

 flicted with the melancholy of autumn to 

 go to the swamps "and see the brave 

 spears of skunk-cabbage buds already 

 advanced toward a new year." During 

 your autumn outings watch for its pur- 

 plish shell-like leaf which curls about its 

 tiny hidden flowers. Its bright purple- 

 mottled spathe adds much to the color- 

 pageant of our fall months. The chil- 

 dren will be pleased to have their atten- 

 tion directed to the bowed, hooded 

 appearance of the leaves suggestive of 

 the cloak and cowl of a monk. 



Its very unpoetic name is because of 

 its unpleasant odor. In some localities 

 it is known as the bear-weed because the 

 bears relish it. 



Thoreau reflects "mortal and human 

 creatures must take a little respite in this 

 fall of the year, their spirits do flag a 

 little, there is a little questioning of des- 

 tiny and thinking to go like cowards to 

 where the weary shall be at rest. But 

 not so with the skunk-cabbage. Its with- 

 ered leaves fall and are transfixed by a 

 rising bud. Winter and death are ig- 

 nored. The circle of life is complete. 

 Are these false prophets? Is it a lie or 

 vain boast underneath the skunk-cabbage 

 bud pushing it upward and lifting the 

 dead leaves with it?" 



We have usually associated this cousin 

 of the spotless calla with the first balmy, 

 spring-suggestive days of February, or 

 early March, but close students and lov- 

 ers of nature find the young buds push- 

 ing their way up through the leaf-strewn 

 moist soil even so late as October. 



Another member of the Arum family 

 greets us with a great cluster of bright 

 scarlet berries. It brings to mind Jean 

 Ingelow's song of the cuckoo-pint which 

 is the English name for our Jack-in-the 

 pulpit or Indian turnip. The Indians 

 boiled these berries and ate them with 

 great relish. They also discovered that 

 the bulb-like base or corm as it is called, 

 lost its acridity in cooking and made nu- 

 tritious food winning for the plant its 

 name of Indian turnip. A quaint legend 



is told of the dark, purple stains on the 

 spathe of these plants : 



li Beneath the cross it grew; 

 And in the vase-like hollow of the leaf, 

 Catching from that dread shower of agony 

 A few mysterious drops, transmitted thus 

 Unto the groves and hills their healing stains, 

 A heritage, for storm or vernal shower, 

 Never to blow away." 



Gilding the meadows, illuminating 

 every woodland, the bright flower heads 

 of the wild sunflowers nod gravely to 

 us, lifting their heads sunward, always 

 doing honor to their great benefactor, 

 the sun-god, and making acknowledg- 

 ment of the debt they owe him by that 

 subtlest of flatteries — imitation, with the 

 result that a myriad miniature suns shine 

 upward from meadow and roadside. 



What the lotus was to the East, so 

 was the sunflower to the ancient Mex- 

 icans. It served in their temples as a 

 sign and decoration, the sun-god's offi- 

 ciating hand maidens wearing upon theii 

 breasts representations in beaten gold of 

 this sacred flower. 



Conspicuous amongst these blazing 

 torches of the harvest months, fears the 

 stately golden rod, converting dry, lonely 

 fields into fields of the cloth of gold. The 

 lavish spread of beautiful orange clusters 

 and thick bright green leaves invite us 

 to carry arm-loads of it to our homes 

 and school-rooms. 



The old legend connected with this 

 flower, which even the city-bred children 

 know and love, will be interesting to 

 them. 



A long, long time ago the golden rod 

 was an elm tree with rough, gray bark 

 and dark green leaves, which in autumn 

 turned to golden yellow. The fairies 

 who danced on mid-summer nights on 

 the green near by loved the stately elm 

 and one night during a terrible storm 

 took refuge under its thickly leaved 

 branches. 



Proud of this appeal to its love and 

 kindness, the magnificent tree wrapped 

 each of the dainty little folks in one of its 

 smooth leaves. So grateful were the 

 fairies for this protection that the fairy- 



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