ON THE TRAIL OF THE FUSARIUM SPORE 155 



"Where have I seen that same thing before?" ex- 

 claimed Farmer Good aloud. "I've seen it just as 

 sure as I live, and I beheve I am on a hot trail. I 

 wonder what the microscope would show here," he 

 asked of himself as he took some of the moldy ker- 

 nels and started for the house. There he prepared 

 the shdes and, carefully adjusting the powerful mi- 

 croscope, he took one glance through the instrument 

 and, with a cry that brought everyone in the house 

 to him, he exclaimed: 



"Ah ! Now I know you, you villain! You are the 

 same fellow I found in my spring wheat — the same 

 pink mold. I knew I had seen you before. Now I 

 know how you got into the spring wheat. You lived 

 over on the old ears of com left in the field. I won- 

 der where else you wintered and in what state you 

 existed. There must be a winter spore somewhere, 

 from which this pink mold has developed, and if I 

 can find that feUow I can then maks the entire con- 

 nection." 



He went at once to the com field, where the old 

 weather-beaten com stalks were stUl in the field. 

 He collected several husks, decayed ears of com, 

 leaves, and stalks, then brought the entire collection 

 into his seed house. Here he made a careful search 

 of every part of the old plants, and noted that some 



