COMMON AMERICAN WILD FLOWERS 



585 



It is surprising how much weight one of 

 these little disks can bear. Darwin tested their 

 strength and found that one of them will stand 

 a strain of two pounds, while five of them 

 grouped together on a tendril can bear a weight 

 of ten pounds. 



What is more picturesque than the old-fash- 

 ioned stone fence, or the stake-and-rider worm 

 fence, with its load of green foliage in sum- 

 mer and its clusters of bright blue berries in 

 the fall ! Over fences, walls, and trees it ram- 

 bles luxuriantly, and, while it seems to love its 

 wild life best, it will gladly adopt one's very 

 doorstep as its home, and welcome an oppor- 

 tunity to weave a curtain of living green over 

 the sunny sides of the veranda. 



In the autumn its blood-like sprays are out- 

 lined against the dark evergreens about which 

 they twine, making a contrasting picture of 

 rare beauty. The Virginia creeper has per- 

 haps more honor abroad than at home, being 

 widely cultivated in Europe. Even in Venice 

 one may see it covering crumbling walls or 

 gracefully clinging to carefully prepared trel- 

 lises. 



POISON OR THREE-LEAVED IVY 



(Toxicodendron, radicans (L.) Kuntze) 



(See page 593) 



The poison ivy is a member of the sumac 

 family, having as relatives the vinegar tree, 

 the smooth sumac, and the smoke-bush. Its 

 range reaches as far north as Nova Scotia, as 

 far south as Florida and Texas, and as far 

 west as Utah and British Columbia. 



As described in the sketch of the Virginia 

 creeper, it is often confused with that beau- 

 tiful member of the clinging-vine clan. The 

 Virginia creeper is condemned as being poison 

 ivy oftener than poison ivy is accredited with 

 being a Virginia creeper. Many a Virginia 

 creeper has reached the untimely end of mat- 

 tock execution by the error, and not a few 

 people have received a painful reminder of 

 their mistake when they have failed to observe 

 that three leaves spell "foe" in the ivy vine and 

 five leaves "friend." 



The poison ivy, or poison oak, as some call 

 it, is a prodigal climber, inclined to run over 

 everything in sight. Even the oak sometimes 

 is almost smothered when the poison ivy 

 reaches its topmost branches and spreads its 

 dense foliage over them. 



It begins to blossom in May and June, its 

 flowers being small, fragrant, yellowish green, 

 and arranged in densely clustered spikes. To- 

 ward fall these develop into smooth, white, 

 wax-like berries that often hold fast the winter 

 through. The three leaves are shining green, 

 short-stemmed, and oval-pointed. 



The poison of this ivy is a powerful, non- 

 volatile oil which penetrates the pores of the 

 human skin and develops hosts of tiny itching 

 blisters, followed by a burning swelling of the 

 affected parts. 



While we very naturally dislike a plant that 

 poisons us when we touch it, yet if we investi- 

 gate the reason for its poison we discover that 



a vast number of plants develop poisons and 

 near-poisons, and when we look over the list 

 we find that we would be rather badly off 

 without them. It is true that most of them 

 are poisonous only when eaten, and that few 

 are poisonous to the touch, but they have all 

 developed these qualities in self-defense. 



Some of them store their poison in their 

 seeds, others in their root-stocks, and others 

 in their roots to protect their progeny from 

 harm. They do not go about looking for 

 trouble or seeking, like the devil, whom they 

 may destroy; but they are prepared to resist 

 invasion of the rights of their children. Nux 

 vomica and aconite are two of many such illus- 

 trations that might be cited. 



Others develop alkaloids, like the nicotine of 

 tobacco, the quinine of the cinchona tree, and 

 the theine of tea, to protect themselves. Strych- 

 nine, digitalis, and a hundred and one indis- 

 pensable drugs that are poisonous in overdoses 

 are the gift of the plant world to man as a by- 

 product of plant preparations for self-defense 

 (see also gentian, page 589). 



And so, when the poison ivy learned to give 

 off its poison by contact rather than through 

 its own destruction, it simply went a step fur- 

 ther than its neighbors. It has arranged its 

 plans of defense, so that it can wage war with- 

 out first being eaten. In that respect it meets 

 the problem in the same way as the thistle and 

 the thorn, although it fights by subtle stealth 

 rather than open warfare. 



STEEPLE BUSH OR HARDHACK (Spi- 

 raea tomentosa L.) 



(See page 594) 



Close of kin to the meadow-sweet, the goat's 

 beard, the ipecac, and the common rose, the 

 hardhack, or steeple bush, is one of the most 

 cheery of the pink and magenta flowers of the 

 roadside, ditch, and swamp, blooming from 

 July to September. 



Living in territory where competition for in- 

 sect favor is always fierce and the battle of the 

 blossoms a lively one, the hardhack arrays it- 

 self in a remarkable cluster of delicate florets 

 at the top of a two or three foot stem, which 

 waves welcome in the swaying breezes to the 

 insect hordes. 



And that it receives its share of the business 

 of bee and butterfly is evident to any one who 

 will stop to count the shoppers who visit this 

 floral department store. The bees and the but- 

 terflies are welcomed, but the plebeian ants are 

 frowned down upon and given a chilly recep- 

 tion. Most of the hardhack's trade is in pollen, 

 as its supply of nectar is somewhat limited, 

 and as difficult to secure as are fast colors 

 among us in these war times. 



Being a dweller in damp soil, the hardhack 

 has had to take precautions to protect itself 

 from colds. If the under side of its leaves 

 were not covered with woolly hairs, the vapors 

 rising from the ground would clog their pores 

 and interfere with their breathing. Behind the 

 shelter of this smooth coat of vegetable fur 



