Grasses 175 
But these are naturalized foreigners. A great gap 
separates them from the tallest native grasses, the 
Indian corn, the wild rice, and the reeds (Fig. 45). 
Few popular names are more loosely used than 
this term ‘‘reed.” It is applied to large grasses 
of several species and to the cat-tail flags which are 
not grasses at all. But the true reed of classic 
story and of modern verse is the phragmites com- 
munis, whose spears of bloom, sometimes twelve 
feet tall, are conspicuous objects in latter summer, 
on the edges of ponds and streams. The plant 
looks, from a distance, like*broom-corn. 
Its many broad leaves and feathery head of 
blossom are swayed by the faintest breath, so that 
‘‘there are not many things in Nature,” says Ste- 
venson, ‘‘more striking to man’s eye than the 
shivering of the reeds. It is such an eloquent 
pantomime of terror; and to see such a number of 
terrified creatures in every nook along the shore is 
enough to infect a silly human with alarm.’’ 
Their dumb fear was noticed by the people of 
the classic world, who accounted for it by a legend. 
There was a certain nymph called Syrinx, who 
was much beloved by the satyrs and the spirits of 
the wood. 
She would have none of them, for she was a 
