THE HAUNTS OF FLOWERS. 57 



the bellwort. When I see these native ornaments de- 

 stroyed for the improvement of the road, I feel like one 

 whose paternal estate has heen cleared and graded and 

 measured out into auction-lots. 



There are indications by which we may always identify 

 the haunts of certain species, if they have not been eradi- 

 cated. We know that fallow grounds are inhabited by 

 weeds, and that mean soils contain plants that seem by 

 their thrift to require a barren situation; but they are 

 like poor people, who live in mean huts because the 

 better houses are occupied by their superiors. These 

 plants would grow more luxuriantly in a good soil, if 

 they were not crowded out by those of more vigorous 

 habit. Every one is familiar with a species of rush 

 called wire grass, which is abundant in footpaths through 

 wet meadows. It is so tough that the feet of men and 

 animals, while they crush and destroy all other plants that 

 come up there, leave this uninjured. This remarkable 

 habit has caused the belief that it thrives better from 

 being trampled under foot. The truth is, it will bear more 

 hard usage than other species, and is made conspicuous 

 by being left alone after its companions have been trod- 

 den to death. The same may be observed of a species 

 of Polygonum, — the common "knot-grass" of our back 

 yards. A certain amount of trampling is favorable' to its 

 growth by crushing out all its competitors. 



Most of our naturalized plants inhabit those places 

 which have been once reduced to tillage and afterwards 

 restored to nature. Such are the sites of old gardens and 

 orchards, and the forsaken enclosures of some old dwell- 

 ing-house. The white Bethlehem-star is a tenant of 

 these deserted grounds, growing meekly under the protec- 

 tion of some moss-covered stone-wall or dilapidated shed, 

 fraternizing with the celandine, the sweet chervil, and 

 here and there a solitary narcissus. The euphorbia and 



3* 



