American Gardening 



Zbc "Bmcxicm ©arOcn— popular ©arOenine 



Ko/. XJJI 



APRIL, 1892 



No. 



FLORAL BEAUTIES OF OUR BOGS AND PONDS. 



WATER-LILIES AND OTHER AQUATIC PLANTS. 



H E MOST wonderful 

 and curious, the most 

 interesting and fascin- 

 ating, the most beauti- 

 ful and lovely of all 

 our native plants are 

 to be found among 

 those that soak their 

 feet in the waters of 

 the bog, that wade or 

 float in lakes and 

 ponds, or waltz mer- 

 rily in rippling brooks. 

 Yet, with all their at- 

 tractions these plants 

 are the least known of 

 all large classes, not be- 

 cause they are so rare, 

 but because we so rare- 

 ly go where they are. 

 One of the greatest charms of a dense swamp, which we 

 penetrate only with extreme caution and in rubber boots, 

 is its solitude. Perhaps no human being has visited it 

 before in this season, or at most only a stray gunner or 

 some crank of a botanist. Strange birds there hide away 

 from their worst enemy — man — and one after another 

 flutter up and away with shrill cries. The hungry but 

 not solitary mosquito rejoices at another chance to pre- 

 sent his little bill. But in spite of all this busy swamp- 

 life, there is a death-like stillness here, 



" Where hardly a human foot can pass 

 On the quaking turf of the green morass." 



We only realize how great and loud is the din of civiliz- 

 ation when we are where we cannot hear it. As we walk 

 along, the beautiful green sphagnum, carrying ten times 

 its own weight in water, yields gracefully to our feet and 

 peeps into the tops of our boots. The tall ferns bend 

 their tips in elegant arches over our heads. The liver- 

 worts, the lichens and the mosses vie with each other in 



doing most to beautify the place, and thereby each lends 

 beauty to the others. The pitcher-plants hold their 

 wonderful seed-receptacles far above their curious cup- 

 like leaves, whose lining of downward-pointed bristles 

 converts them into insect-traps. All efforts to escape 

 only force the prisoners farther down, and finally into 

 the liquid at the bottom of the cup. Come here in winter 

 time, and one may see where birds have made holes in 

 the cups to get the insect food that nature has thus stored 

 up for their winter use. The rank leaves and fruit of 

 the wild calla {C. palitstris) are preparing the plant for 

 sending up, next spring, its delicate little white spathe. 

 which we erroneously call the flower. Its cousin, the 

 arrow-arum {Peltandra undulata), shows in summer 

 time a similar but much longer spathe of a dark green 

 color ; and lucky is the intruder who can find the longer 

 and greener spathe of that rare Jack-in-the-pulpit, which 

 is also called the "great green dragon" {An'sa^ma dra- 

 co?itiHm). 



There is one shrub or small tree, from 3 to 30 feet 

 high, often found in swamps, sometimes on dry land, 

 that commands our respectful attention. Its erect and 

 abruptly ending branches are slightly spreading toward 

 the top, but never drooping. Its bright green leaflets are 

 in rows upon showy red stems, and its long, drooping thyrs- 

 oid racemes of greenish white flowers are followed by gray- 

 ish white berries. It is Jihtis i'e7ienata, or poison sumac. 

 When one knows it by sight he quickly recognizes it at a 

 glance, in summer or winter, and he who is susceptible to 

 its venom will not desire a closer acquaintance. The dense 

 foliage keeps the wind from carrying away the poisoned 

 air with which the sumac, standing guard over some rare 

 and beautiful plant, punishes any one who dares to wrest 

 it from its hiding-place. It is not necessary to touch the 

 sumac to get punished. Merely to venture into that 

 poisoned air on a warm day is sufficient to receive the 

 penalty, which lasts for days or weeks, sometimes becom- 

 ing chronic ; one case having been reported as lasting 30 

 years. It is well that our swamps are thus made difficult 



