76 THE HUMAN SIDE OF PLANTS 
which it dances and tumbles like a frolicking lamb. 
When it grows weary of this fast life it decides 
to settle down in some pleasant place near a pool 
of water, where it again takes up the ordinary rou- 
tine of living. 
Among human athletes we occasionally find 
skilled hoppers; plants, too, indulge in this form 
of athletics. The “Leap-in-the-field”—or “Wind- 
witch,” as it is sometimes called—if medals and 
badges were bestowed upon plant athletes, would 
hold in all probability a tremendous collection in 
recognition of its place as “world’s champion” in 
the high-jump and in the hop-skip-and-jump. This 
curious leaper sends up numerous dry, slender 
shoots, like so many tiny arms, which reach around 
it, clasping hands, as playful babies would do, until 
the mother plant is encircled by hundreds of such 
cord-like binders. Sometimes these arms reach 
up three or four feet, and over and over they con- 
tinue to bind until autumn comes on. Then the 
plant’s vacation time has come. It withdraws its 
roots from the earth, shrinks together its folded 
arms until it is almost the shape of a ball, loses 
all its moisture and becomes dry as dust and light 
as a feather. Then comes the wind, and with the 
first puff, away it hops and tumbles, seeking here 
and there to join hands with its neighbours, who 
