THE LESSER CELANDINE— continued. 
The brilliant golden star-like blossoms, among the earliest of the spring, 
appear from March to May, borne on long stout stalks which are axillary, although 
mostly rising as scapes from the suppressed stem. They are about an inch across, 
with three concave greenish sepals below and an array of sub-acute petals, generally 
nine in number, with that glistening coating of a varnish-like gum that throws a 
reflection of their yellow colour on to the chin when children try if they “like butter.” 
In fading, the petals turn white and occasionally they are altogether absent. Honey 
is secreted by a gland at the base of each petal which is covered by a scale, as in other 
Ranunculi^ and the flowers are freely visited by a variety of short-tongued insects. 
The stamens also mature their pollen before the stigmas are receptive, as is the rule 
in insect-pollinated flowers ; and the opening and closing of the flowers, which usually 
occur about 9 a.m. and 5 p.m. respectively, also suggest dependence upon insects. 
Nevertheless the plant rarely sets seed, being propagated almost entirely by its tubers. 
These are produced in great numbers, so that it is said that, when exposed by the 
washing away of the soil by rain, they have given rise to the notion of its having 
“ rained wheat.” 
Flowers are occasionally produced without stamens, and the achenes, which are 
slightly downy, are also sometimes clearly abortive. So abundantly, however, does 
the plant reproduce itself vegetatively that it often proves seriously detrimental to 
grass land on a moist soil. It is stated, however, that it can be got rid of by 
dressing the ground with coal or wood ashes. 
Turner, the first of our botanists to mention the plant, writes in 1548 
“ Hirundinaria called in greekc Chelidonium is of ii kyndes. . . The second kynde called in latine Chelidonium minus, 
is called in englishe Fygwurt, it groweth vnder the shaddowes of ashe trees. It is one of the fyrst herbes that hath floures in 
the spring.*’ 
Considering the charm of its golden stars in early spring it is remarkable that no 
poet seems to have sung the praises of the Lesser Celandine till Wordsworth wrote : — 
“Ere a leaf is on a bush, 
In the time before the thrush 
Has a thought about her nest, 
Thou wilt come with half a call, 
Spreading out thy glossy breast 
Like a careless Prodigal ; 
Telling tales about the sun, 
When we’ve little warmth, or none. 
Careless of thy neighbourhood. 
Thou dost show thy pleasant face 
On the moor, and in the wood. 
In the lane : — there’s not a place. 
Howsoever mean it be, 
But ’tis good enough for thee.” 
