2 2 BOTANY OF MADISON, LINCOLN, GARRARD, 



FERNS. 



With the light of sunset glowing, Nature with her magic hand, 

 Till their rival glories blending, painted flowers o'er the land; 

 Willi the light of early morning, with her pencil dip't in dew, 

 She, the dainty/<?m-kafles sketching, all their lines of beauty drew; 

 Waved she then her pencil dripping, on the rock and hill and dell — 

 Dew-drops all t<> mosses turning, where the tiny crystals fell. 



Those lowly plants to which were given no true seed, and 

 from which nature has withheld all semblance of flowers, are 

 not without interest. Though they do not furnish us with 

 shelter or food or raiment, yet they enter into the class ol soil 

 making plants and assist in shading, moistening, and preserv- 

 ing' the surface ol the ground. Ferns appeal to our admiration 

 in the purity and delicacy of their parts, and the gracefulness 

 ol their outlines. A love for them seems to be natural in 

 ever)' heart. The rough man, who cares nothing for the 

 names or the relations of general plant life, will often stop to 

 gaze on a bed of ferns; the young maiden presses them be- 

 neath her pillow, that she ma)- have happy dreams, and the 

 little children seek them, scarcely knowing why. 



While strolling through the woods one day, far from the 

 homes ot culture and refinement, we met a little unkempt 

 boy, who knew not how to read the books of men, but who 

 had stolen some lessons from the volume of nature opened to 

 him. We had gathered some of the rarer flowers, which were 

 in bloom under the shadows of the ancient trees ; observing 

 them, the urchin asked us why we did not get some "shak- 

 ers?" Upon telling- him we did not know them, he proposed 

 to lead us to where they grew. Following him over the soft 

 ground, under the shade of trees, and by the tendril climbing 

 vines, we reached a lovely bed of maiden-hair. As we seated 

 ourselves on a downy bed of moss to talk about and admire 

 the clustered beauties, we saw his bright eye's flash with a love 

 born of the beautiful, and our heart grew tender towards him. 

 Knowing no such name as bracken, brake, or fern, the tremu- 

 lous motion of the dainty plant had suggested the name, and 

 all the different species of ferns were called by him "shakers." 



