1 68 
THE GUIDE TO NATURE 
From Wild Grass to Indian Corn. 
Nature is sometimes slow, but al- 
ways sure. Nature, aided in America 
by the crude cultural methods of the 
Indians, needed we do not know how 
many centuries to produce our maize 
from the wild grass, teosinte. On the 
other hand, that magician of plants, 
Mr. Luther Burbank, has produced 
from it perfect ears of corn in eighteen 
years. 
1 he Indians found teosinte covering 
our plains. It bore grains or small ker- 
nels something like small wheat grains 
not connected together but loose in a 
tiny husk. The ears were from two to 
four inches long, thinner than a lead 
pencil, with each grain incased in a 
separate steel-like covering or sheath. 
Discovering that the kernels were 
good to eat, the Indians began to cul- 
tivate the plant. Since they always 
saved the best kernels for seed, the 
teosinte ears gradually became longer 
and bigger round so as to take care 
of extra rows of kernels. In time the 
chitinous sheaths disappeared. 
Such, the botanists believed, was 
the history of our maize. Mr. Bur- 
bank made his experiment in order to 
test the theory. Starting in 1903, he 
gradually developed the teosinte plant 
with its miniature kernels into a much 
larger plant with a round cob and sev- 
eral rows of large, fat kernels. At the 
end of a few years he found an occa- 
sional kernel that had emerged from its 
sheath. He bred only those kernels, and 
FROM LEFT TO RIGHT ARE SHOWN FIVE 
STAGES IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF 
THE TEOSINTE EAR. 
in a few years more the sheaths had 
entirely disappeared. At the end of 
the eighteenth year he had produced 
ears of Indian corn. Though the ears 
do not equal the superior varieties now 
grown in America, they compare fa- 
vorably in every way with those that 
the first white settlers found the In- 
dians cultivating. — The Youth’s Com- 
panion. 
AN EAR OF INDIAN CORN PRODUCED IN 
EIGHTEEN YEARS. 
The above article from “ 1 he Youth’s 
Companion” was submitted to Mr. Bur- 
bank. He returned it with a few slight 
corrections which have been inserted, 
and stated that the transition from the 
grass to corn has been exhibited at the 
Panama-Pacific Exposition and is now 
in the County Courthouse of Santa 
Rosa. 
Trailing Arbutus. 
BY ROBERT SPARKS WALKER. CHATTA- 
NOOGA, TENNESSEE. 
I’m a creeping fairy of long winter days, 
Set in rocky woods, I witness frost affrays; 
My brown, shrubby stems a-sleeping close to 
earth, 
Hiding under fallen leaves, their buds give 
birth, 
To my five-lobed flow’rs a-bearing frosty 
sheen, 
White and pink, with nectar sweet that in- 
sects glean. 
My dull, olive green, old rusty spotted leaves, 
That’s found evergreen, yet no one scarce 
believes, 
I11 the month of June are promptly made 
anew, 
And so tough they stand the winter’s frozen 
dew! 
When some winter day you think I m fast 
asleep, 
Rake away the crispy leaves and take a peep! 
When I come a-blooming with my nectar 
sweet, 
You may wonder whom on earth I hope to 
meet! 
While the nipping frost is still within the 
breeze, 
Listen to the buzzing of queen bumblebees! 
Here’s a secret handed me by Father Time. 
I’m the Mayflow’r of New England s dreary 
clime ! 
Imagination rioting 
O’er what the year will bring, 
In its highest flights could not surpass 
The marvels of the spring. 
— Emma Peirce. 
