WINTER SKETCHES. 1 97 



a sniff from your vase of potpourri, or from a 

 Lubin's jar. 



In what odd, unaccountable places do the 

 various species of these humble plants flourish ! 

 They are the true followers of the lichens. They 

 grow on the gray boulders and ledges, in mats 

 and cushions, for the squirrels. Decayed tree 

 trunks are lined with their bright-green velvet. 

 They love to warm and brighten up the brown 

 and barren spots on the forest floor. How socia- 

 ble they are, and inclined to assemble in com- 

 panies, and grow leaf in leaf, in good fellowship 

 with each other. Here is a large colony of the 

 hair cap moss [Polytrichum commune), living 

 together without envy or rivalry. Each individ- 

 ual stem has reached a certain stature, prescribed 

 by law. Unlike a community of pines, they do 

 not resort to arms or try to raise their heads over 

 their fellows to get the sunlight. Indeed, they 

 seem to like the shadow and moisture somewhat 

 better than the broad glare of the sun. Pull up 

 a stalk and examine it. It is almost as hard to 

 break as hemp twine, its tissues and cell-walls are 

 so strong and firmly knit. The triangular, red- 

 dish-brown stem is loosely wrapped about with 

 the curious aerial root hairs, so thickly woven 

 together that the mass has the appearance of felt. 

 The leaves along the basal half of the stalk are 

 closely appressed and resemble small, brown scales, 



