NATURE'S REALM. 7 
latitudes, a more brilliant and radiant dawn 
makes the flowers earlier, Lamarck was obliged 
to construct for France another clock, which is 
a little in advance of the Swedish one. We 
quote from Pouchet : 
HOURS AT WHICH THE 
FLOWERS OPEN. PLANTS ON WHICH THE OBSERVATIONS 
MORNING. WERE MADE. 
3 to 5 o'clock, Tragopogon pratense (yellow goats- 
beard or salsify). 
ae * Cichorium intybus (chicory). 
5 “ Sonchus oleraceus (sow-thistle . 
sto6 * Leontodon taraxacum (dandelion . 
6 ~ Hieracium umbellatum umbellate 
hawkweed). 
ain Hieracium murorum (wall hawk- 
‘ weed). 
7 a Lactuca sativa (lettuce). 
7 oe Nymphza alba (white water lily). 
7to8 * Mesembryanthemum barbatum. 
& * Anagallis arvensis (field pimpernel 
or poor man’s weather glass . 
9 = Calendula arvensis (field marigold . 
gto10 “ Mesembryanthemum  crystallinum 
lice plant). 
rotor “ Mesembryanthemum nodiflorum. 
EVENING. 
5 o'clock, Nyctago hortensis. 
Geranium triste. 
Silene noctiflora. 
Cactus grandiflorus. 
6 a3 
6 oe 
9 to 10 o'clock, 
Can Docs TALK? 
At the Box Hotel in Crookston, Minn., some 
six years ago, my attention was more than 
once called to two dogs that were allowed to 
loiter about in the hotel office. These dogs 
were the greatest of friends; in fact, so 
“chummy” as to call forth admiration from 
‘the various hotel guests. So prints the Kansas 
City Star. 
One afternoon one of the dogs, which had 
been basking in the sun on the floor of the of- 
fice, suddenly gave a bound and started for the 
door. I immediately stepped to the door and 
opened it, and the dog passed out, going in the 
direction of the Manitoba depot, where I ob- 
served some ten or twenty other dogs holding 
a pow-wow. Then I closed the door and re- 
sumed my seat. Immediately I heard a ter- 
rible commotion in the direction in which the 
dog had gone. Stepping to the door I observed 
that a full-fledged dog fight had begun. Ar- 
riving at the scene of the battle I found that 
my dog friend of a few minutes previous was 
the under brute in a big fracas, He was howl- 
ing with pain, while a big Newfoundland dog 
stood over him making the fur fly. A blow on 
the canine’s cranium from a ball club in the 
hands of a small urchin who stood hard by, 
soon put a stop to the Newfoundland’s ferocity. 
The under brute started for home pell mell, 
and when I arrived at the hotel I found the 
poor brute at the office door, bleeding and 
bruised, awaiting admission. I opened the 
door and passed into the office, the dog follow- 
ing me. 
Lying on the floor, in close proximity to the 
office stove, reposed the sleeping carcass of my 
little bested friend’s companion. He was a 
large brute of the mongrel species—a cross 
between a bulldog and a mastiff. The poor, 
conquered brute, upon entering the office pro- 
ceeded in the direction in which his dog friend 
lay stretched upon the floor, and, going up to 
him, commenced to sniff at him from head to 
foot. Presently the sleeping dog rose to a sit- 
ting position, and, gazing at his conquered 
friend some two or three minutes, seemed to 
take in the situation at once—that his dogship 
had but lately received a terrible whipping. 
After a little more sniffing on the part*of the 
conquered brute, both dogs started toward the 
door. I stepped to the door, opened it, and the 
dogs passed out. Both dogs started in the di- 
rection of the depot platform, some 400 or 500 
feet south of the hotel, where they espied sev- 
eral dogs, among their number being the big 
Newfoundland, the object of their vengeance. 
Going up to the big Newfoundland dog, my 
little conquered friend curled up his tail and 
commenced to growl, the big Newfoundland 
dog likewise, each dog going round and round 
in a circuitous route while thus parleying, the 
big hotel dog in the meantime standing hard 
by watching proceedings. Presently the big 
hotel dog gave a spring and landed a good 
hold on the jaw of his big opponent. Both 
dogs reared in the air, the Newfoundland com- 
ing down the under dog, and the chewing he 
received in that fracas I suppose he never for- 
got, my little conquered friend nipping the big 
rascal from behind at every chance presenting 
itself. To be candid about it, the hair from 
the hide of that poor martyred Newfoundland 
actually filled the air, and a worse whipped 
dog never slunk from the field of battle. 
