20 STARLIGHT AND SUNSHINE. 
shield is now seen to stand perpendicularly, the stem being bent 
in a sharp curve. In the midst of his surprise the flowers one 
by one now seem to steal into view, peering out here and there 
behind the leaves, and he will discern a grimace there that he 
never noted before. That bright bouquet upon his mantel will 
henceforth wear a new expression for him and a fresh identity. 
He will find himself exchanging winks thitherward now and then, 
and hover about the room among his friends in the proud con- 
sciousness of a certain preferment not vouchsafed to common 
mortals. ¥ 
The effect of such a bank of nasturtium leaves as the writer 
recently observed is irresistibly queer. So instinct with mischiev- 
ous consciousness did it seem that he found himself entering into 
conversation at once, and laughed outright in the darkness. It 
has been supposed that this vertical position of the leaf was as- 
sumed to avoid the collection of dew, but this is obviously an 
error. There is no disposition in the nasturtium to avoid moist- 
ure, as would be apparent to any one who has watched the leaves 
during rain, catching and coddling the great dancing drop at its 
hollowed centre, and loath to let it fall. 
Our midnight gardener has still further surprises in store for 
him among his plantations. Following the alluring fragrance of 
his melilot, he turns the rays of his lantern among its branches, 
and finds them full of nocturnal capers. The single leaflet of 
the melilot is threefold, like a clover, to which it is closely akin. 
At night these three leaflets twist edge uppermost on their stems, 
with the faces of the outer pair turned inward, while the end 
leaflet folds its face flat to one side or the other, to the cheek of 
its chosen chum for the night. And there they are, a dozy com- 
pany in truth, yet not without a subtle suggestion that it may all 
be a subterfuge for the moment to cover some mischief or other. 
And here is another interesting specimen close by, a member 
of that same somniferous tribe—the blue lupine—the “sad lu- 
pine” of Virgil (dres¢zs /upcwus). Just why Virgil should have 
attributed sadness to the lupine I believe has not been satisfac- 
torily decided, although many learned pens and much printer's 
