74 



but I have never seen them visit A. vulgaris. They take nectar by 

 inserting the bill or tongue into the hollow of the spur while the 

 flower is still hanging in the inverted position. * * * In both 

 species, the Virginia carpenter bee (Xyocopa Virginica) and a 

 small bee (Odynerus foraminatus) slit the tube of the spur and 

 take the nectar direct from the gland. Later the honey bee ( Apis 

 mcllifica) and a green bee (Agapostemon radiatus) enter these 

 slits and secure the remaining nectar, but they do nol make new 

 >lits for themselves." 



THE BITTERSWEET. 



An unkempt country lane in autumn is one of the most 

 picturesque of sights, and otters much entertainment to one who 

 has a taste for enjoyment on a low key — to use John Burroughs' 

 phrase. Among the Schuylkill hills there are many such pleasant 

 lanes, half hiding between stone walls and fences that are buried 

 in clambering vines, now skirting woodland or orchard, now 

 winding up hill and along the ridges by cornfield and turnip 

 patches, and now descending into little dales that carry in their 

 laps brawling streams to feed the river. 



In such places, these October days, we find the climbing bit- 

 tersweet in abundance. This characteristic American vine, which 

 dearly loves to climb a tree, is shyness itself in spring and sum- 

 mer; its flowers are so unassuming that they are rarely ever ob- 

 served, and its foliage is of so conventional a pattern that it passes 

 equally unnoticed in the general green livery of the wayside. But 

 suddenly in the fall it flames upon our startled sight with showy 

 bunches of orange-colored berries, which after a hard frost burst 

 open and glow yet more ardently because of the fiery red-coated 

 seeds which are within. Bittersweet berries retain their bright 

 ness indoors for months, particularly if gathered unopened before 

 the frost touches them, and are among the most cherished of 

 decorations in some rural homes. The vine is a famous contor- 

 tionist, and often twists and doubles upon itself to a remarkable 

 degree. — C. P. Saunders in Philadelphia Record. 



