l68 LEAVES IN WINTI'.K QUARTERS. 



ices of the warm ledge the pretty scalloped leaves 

 of the columbines and rock-cresses, while the 

 saxifrages on the shallow soil are spreading out 

 tiny purple mats, as if invoking the sun to crown 

 them with the clustered cymes. Further down in 

 the rich ground, beside old stumps, the first 

 leaves of the celandines, when bruised, exude 

 their creamy saffron-colored blood. Beside the 

 icy stream, at the foot of the hill, the bristly but- 

 tercups, with a fresh lease of life, are lying low to 

 listen to the first piping of the frogs ; and the 

 ox-eyed daisies, so abundant in the fields beyond, 

 have woven little rugs close to the frozen ground, 

 and look as green and sound of bud and leaf as 

 the young, tender exotics of the conservatories. 

 What is it that keeps these plants so vigorous and 

 healthy through the Winter .' Last Fall the stalks 

 withered and dropped down, but unlike the short- 

 lived annuals, a small part of the stem, fed by the 

 roots, with jelly, starch and sugar, remains full of 

 vitality through the season of frosts. Indeed the 

 leaves, so well set the Autumn before, and so 

 bountifully supplied with plant-food, seem to grow 

 very slowly in the milder days. 



Let us look at this crowfoot (buttercup) that 

 has planted itself so trustingly in this exposed 

 situation, and observe the way in which the naked 

 bud spends its winters. From the short stem 

 that joins the root has grown a whorl of leaves, 



