Dandelions 37 
has been fighting the gardeners for many genera- 
tions has naturally developed more fertility of re- 
source than has its aristocratic relation which the 
gardeners cosset and coddle. The gamin of the 
slums can take care of himself and of his little 
sister, too, at an age when a rich man’s son would 
not be trusted out of his nurse’s sight. 
The dandelion is a gamin of the fields, sunny- 
faced, uncared for, and getting but a rough life of 
it amid cold spring rains and east winds. Like 
the human gamin it must look out for number 
one in adverse circumstances, and therefore Mother 
Nature expended much ingenuity on the outfit of 
this humble plant before she sent it forth into a 
hostile world. 
The dandelion gets its name not from the 
golden blossom, with its sweet promise of spring’s 
return, but from the foliage. The word is a cor- 
ruption of the French dent de lion (lion’s tooth), 
and refers to the jagged edges of the leaves. 
Taraxicum is the plant’s botanic cognomen, and 
the nauseous medicine of the same name is ex- 
tracted from the root. The same bitter principle 
is in leaves and stalks, but our Irish citizens 
extract the nauseous taste by long, gentle boiling, 
and make of dandelion leaves a wholesome and 
