62 THE HUMAN SIDE OF PLANTS 
the last remnants of lost leaves. At the begin- 
ning of this interesting plant’s life, the seed ger- 
minates in the earth, as if it intended to grow 
and work as other plants do; soon, however, the 
delicate little vine begins reaching up for aid, until 
it has grown tall enough to reach a clover, or a 
flax plant, to which it immediately attaches itself 
by means of little filaments or suckers. As soon as 
it has a firm grasp on some healthy plant, it begins 
to wither near the ground, and soon all connection 
with the earth is broken. Thus the dodder crawis 
and twists itself over the heads of numerous plants 
like a writhing snake, binding them fast with its 
vampire suckers and taking its food directly from 
them—flourishing at their expense, a thief and a 
robber indeed! 
The other habits of this strange robber are strik- 
ingly like those of its honest cousins, the cypress 
vine and the morning-glory. It often grows many 
feet in length, twining itself about the tops and 
leaves of plants, and sewing them together like 
bunches of cord-bound stems. Its flowers are of 
a pale, whitish hue, and are almost bell-shaped, 
growing in small, ivory-like clusters. In the South 
it is not uncommon to see large fields of weeds 
literally yellow with the death-twining cords of the 
dodder; each closely sewed to its neighbour by this 
