180 STARLIGHT AND SUNSHINE. 
For it would seem to be a law of Nature that fruition is in- 
versely as the petals of the flower. Flowers artificially doubled 
by turning the stamens into petals are often without seed, or with 
seeds which are germless. In the wilds where Nature wishes to 
insure a fruitful life it would seem she sometimes entirely de- 
prives the flower of its corolla, as in the instances given—a preg- 
nant text which is feelingly committed to the prayerful consider- 
ation of the world’s garden, where all is vanity. This cautious 
peculiarity is found in various plants, and is doubtless the saving 
grace of many, as in the case of the beautiful little polygala, oth- 
erwise in certain districts eradicated in posies. The cistus or 
frost-weed has a golden rose or two for the poet, but later on 
lower branches a thousand microscopic blossoms which bear the 
responsibility of posterity. The gay young jewel-weed is decked 
with golden trinkets, but later forgets her eardrops in the cares 
of maternity. Certain of the clovers, like the peanut, bury their 
flowers in the earth to insure the seed. 
We have a graceful, delicate, climbing vine known as the wild 
bean, twining about woodland weeds and briers, its drooping ra- 
cemes of pale pink blossoms and large flat pods giving little to- 
ken of the queer blooms on subterranean stems, each yielding its 
tiny, round, hairy, and edible peanut’ Hog-peanut, it is called, 
presumably because, of all grubbers in the woods, the hog, from 
his natural propensities, is most apt to find it. 
The earth about the roots of plants holds other secrets not 
generally guessed by the bouquet-hunters. Clambering over the 
stone wall or shrubbery by the road-side or meadow we have an- 
other wild vine, whose curious clusters of deep maroon flowers 
are heavy with the scent of mignonette. It is allied to the hog- 
peanut just described, and bears the same popular name in our 
botany —the “wild bean”; rather a misnomer, for it has no bean 
worthy to distinguish it, and it is no wilder than many another 
of the bean tribe. It is called, also, “ ground-nut "—a misnomer 
again, as it has no nut; but in the botanical name, Agcos tuberosa, 
we get at the kernel of the matter; a turn or two with the spade 
at the root of the plant discloses the “nuts” in the shape of edible 
