THE BOTANICAL LOOKER OUT, 
149 
Monkeys. Indeed, scarcely a range of hills or mountains exists which has not 
some plants either peculiar to it, or more abundant there than in other places— 
and in glancing at my herbarium, I have just met with a fine specimen of the 
purple Milk Vetch {Astragalus hypoglottis ), which I well remember to have 
snatched with joy from the rugged brow of Bredon Hill nearly ten years ago. 
Several plants puzzle the botanist from their runagate disposition—always 
shifting their positions, and hence never to be found precisely in their former 
abodes. Such is the pretty little Deptford“Pink ( Diantkus armeria\ that coyly 
opens only one of its speckled blossoms at a time, then closes it, and unfolds 
another, thus retaining her beauties as long as possible, and offering a lesson of 
* economy. The beautiful crimson Grass-vetch ( Lathyrus nissolia) is another 
wanderer, that rarely presents its crimson flowers to the charmed eye in bushy 
places, where it would be totally inconspicuous without such adornments, as its 
leaves simulate those of Grass. The botanist, then, must let no ramble escape 
him without improvement, or he may lose opportunities never to occur again, for 
it often happens that various contingencies are required for the flowering of a 
plant, which may not again happen for many years: thus, when an under¬ 
growth of wood is cut down in a coppice or forest, that season the ground being 
more open to the influence of the sun, plants arise and olossom before unknown 
there, which, as the trees grow, sink again into profound repose—and, as in the 
tale of the “ Sleeping Beauty of the Wood,” remain absorbed in deep slumber, 
till the sun, like a liberating hero, once more pierces into the broken labyrinth of 
their prison, and rouses them to renewed life and joy. 
There are several plants that bear the name of “ meteoric,” so denominated by 
Linnaeus, as being more subjected than others to the influences of the weather 
and atmosphere, or at all events more sensitive to those influences. The pretty 
Arenaria rubra , that opens its purple petals wide before the mid-day sun, closes 
them instantly as soon as plucked, or folds them close should a storm obscure the 
welkin with dark clouds. The Daisy “ goes to bed,” as it is said, before the sun 
goes down, but the bright Yellow-wort ( Chlora perfoliata) closes the flowers 
before 5,, p. m., and the yellow Goat’s-beard ( Tragopogon pratensis ), so common 
now in upland meadows, even before noon—hence its colloquial name, “ Go-to- 
bed-at-noon.” The little Pimpernel ( Anagallis arvensis ) sullenly keeps its scarlet 
petals closely shut on a cloudy or rainy day, and this so constantly and certainly, 
that it has been called the “ Shepherd’s Weather-glassfor whatever the baro¬ 
meter may indicate, if the Bed Pimpernel has its flowers expanded fully in the 
morning, there will to a certainty be no rain of any consequence on that day, and 
the umbrella and the Macintosh may be safely dispensed with. 
The meadows are now in their glory with towering Grasses, soon destined to 
fall before the scythe; but ere they are cut down in their pride, several beautiful 
