AMONG THE ARTICHOKES. 
75 
The little plant has had a struggle, too, to retain a name 
through the years of the last century and a half. The earliest 
name by which it was known was Pyrola uniflora, given to it by 
Linnaeus in 1753. Later Richard Anthony Salisbury, an Eng- 
list botanist, named it Monesis, meaning single delight, and 
specified it as grandiflora, which name S. F. Gray used in 1821. 
Asa Gray, in 1848, adopted Salisbury’s generic name Monesis, 
but returned to its old specific name, uniflora, so now we 
consider Monesis uniflora its proper name. 
Among the Artichokes. 
BY EDWARD J. BURNHAM. 
A bit of city garden was planted to Jerusalem artichokes, 
five years ago, with the purpose of trying the effect of cultiva¬ 
tion upon their coarse and generally neglected tubers. Five 
centuries might, perhaps, effect improvement, but five years 
evidently count as nothing in the slow processes of change. 
As not infrequently happens, however, the enthusiasm of the 
entomologist rose as the hopes of the gardener fell. The arti¬ 
choke is not fastidious as to its company, and welcomes all sorts 
and conditions of the insect tribe. The procession of visitors 
begins when the plants break the ground, 
and ends only when the leaves fall. At- 
tus, the Jumping Spider, tiger cat of the 
invertebrate world, is early upon the 
ground, or rather, upon the growing stalks ; 
Clubiona, less boldly aggressive, but 
equally murderous at heart, rolls a leaf and waits within ; while 
Epeira, later, patiently weaves her orb, geometrically propor¬ 
tioned. Spiders, like fakirs at a fair, know where victims will 
most abound. 
These for business ; the flies come for pleasure, in numbers 
of species to test the patience of a Loew and drive our modern 
