Flowers 
been isolated, as if on an uninhabited island, and have 
changed together, developing side by side, “the world 
forgetting, by the world forgot.” 
There is a charm and a variety in the study of the 
first appearances of flowers and their hours of opening 
and closing which affected even the great Linnzeus, who 
himself prepared a so-called shepherd’s clock. It is 
extremely unlikely that any shepherd would make use 
of it, for if the sun were above the horizon it would 
be unnecessary to look at the flowers ; if the day were 
overcast, the flowers would, in some cases at least, 
remain closed. Linnzeus’ clock begins at 3.5 A.M. 
when the goatsbeard opens, and stops at midnight 
when the large-flowered cactus closes its petals. 
The opening and closing of all flowers seems to be 
indirectly regulated by the hour of sunrise. Kerner 
van Marilaun’s floral clock, drawn out for Innspruck, 
brings this out very clearly.® 
Our own hours of work are indirectly regulated by 
the sunrise also, even those of some amongst us who 
begin to work just when the majority of people go 
to sleep. The journalist and the night-watchman have 
to work in the evening, just as Lychnis vespertina has to 
do and for similar reasons. 
Strangely enough there seems to be a great variation 
in the power of habit among flowers. A tulip or 
crocus will open widely at night when they are 
brought near a paraffin lamp, but a daisy will not do 
so. Daisies will open at their usual hour, or very near 
it, even if they have been kept in a dark cupboard, 
whilst the wood-sorrel will more or less close its flowers 
even when a dark cloud passes across the sun at 
midday. 
It is the same with us, for some will waken at the 
correct hour in the morning whether the day is bright 
118 
