Yellow and Orange 



Butter-and-eggs ; Yellow Toad-flax; Eggs- 

 and-bacon ; Flaxweed ; Brideweed 



{Linaria Linaria) Figwort family 



{L. vulgaris of Gray) 



Flowers— Ug\\\. canary yellow and orange, i in. long or over, irregu- 

 lar, borne in terminal, leafy-bracted spikes. Corolla spurred at 

 the base, 2-lipped, the upper lip erect, 2-lobed ; the lower lip 

 spreading, 3-lobed, its base an orange-colored palate closing 

 the throat ; 4 stamens in pairs within ; i pistil. Stem : i to 3 

 ft. tall, slender, leafy. Leaves: Pale, grass-like. 



Preferred Habitat— ^ 2&\.& land, roadsides, banks, fields. 



Flowering Season — June — October. 



Distribution— ^&\iXi.%\& and Manitoba, eastward to Virginia and 

 Nova Scotia. Europe and Asia. 



An immigrant from Europe, this plebeian perennial, meekly 

 content with waste places, is rapidly inheriting the earth. Its 

 beautiful spikes of butter-colored cornucopias, apparently holding 

 the yolk of a diminutive Spanish egg, emit a cheesy odor, sug- 

 gesting a close dairy. Perhaps half the charm of the plant consists 

 in the pale bluish-green grass-like leaves with a bloom on the sur- 

 face, which are put forth so abundantly from the sterile shoots. 

 (See blue toad-flax, p. 52.) 



Guided by the orange palate pathfinder to where the curious, 

 puzzling flower opens, the big velvety bumblebee alights, his 

 weight depressing the lower lip until a comfortable entrance 

 through the gaping mouth is offered him. In he goes, and his 

 long tongue readily reaches the nectar in the deep spur, while his 

 back brushes off pollen from the stamens in his way overhead. 

 Then he backs out, and the gaping mouth springs shut after him — 

 for the linaria is akin to the snapdragon in the garden. As its sta- 

 mens are of two lengths, the flower is able to fertilize itself in stormy 

 weather, insects failing to transfer its pollen. To drain ten of these 

 spurs a minute is no difficult task for the bumblebee. But how 

 slowly, painfully, the little light-weight hive-bees and leaf-cutters 

 squeeze in between the tight lips ! An occasional butterfly inserts 

 its long, thin tongue, and, without transferring a grain of pollen for 

 the flower, robs it of sweets clearly intended for the bumblebee 

 alone. Even when ants — the worst pilferers extant — succeed in 

 entering, they cannot reach the nectar, owing to the hairy stock- 

 ade bordering the groove where it runs. Beetles, out for pollen, also 

 occasionally steal an entrance, if nothing more. Grazing cattle let 

 the plant alone to ripen seed in peace, for it secretes disagreeable 

 juices in its cells— juices that were once mixed with milk by 

 farmers' wives to poison flies. (Illustration, p. 316.) 



332 



