48 
PLANTS AND INSECTS 
WILD FLOWERS OF THE MIDDLE WEST 
I N the month of March when the bitter winds have ceased and a breath 
of spring is in the air, the first wild flowers make their appearance. 
Though the mornings are yet frosty, we find a cluster of low-growing 
willows with many soft gray “pussies’’ upon it. How pretty these 
pussies are ! They are always a source of delight to* the children, who 
can not resist plucking a few sprays as they pass. After the April 
showers, when the sunshine has become warmer and the grass has 
turned a tender green, blue violets spring up in abundance. Where the 
ground is moist, the earth is almost blue with them. A very few white 
ones may be found. 
Next the buttercups gleam in the marshy ponds or small streams, 
usually just beyond the reach of one standing on the bank. The eager 
children may secure a few, but usually at the! expense of wet feet and 
muddy shoes. These flowers are very tempting as they glisten in the 
sunshine, their petals looking like varnished gold. They belong to the 
Ranunculus family and are the wild cousins of the cultivated varieties. 
Under the hedges is the wild oxalis, commonly called sheep-sorrel. 
It is also pink and white. The perfume of the sweet wild rose now 
guides us to where they bloom by the! roadside. From these have come 
the beautiful cultivated rose of the garden. Under the stimulation of 
cultivation and increased food-supply, they have become doubled. As 
the petals increased in number, the stamens disappeared until in some 
varieties they are all hidden by the many petals or have given place to 
them. By various methods of culture different colors have been produced, 
and the modern rose is found in unnumbered varieties and many colors. 
In midsummer bright-colored sweetwilliams bloom in the fence- 
corners, safe from the mower’s sickle, which slays the many white and 
yellow daisies in the meadows. In the pasture brook are blue and 
yellow iris, commonly called flags, also the tall, brown cattails, the bloom 
of the rushes. 
Too soon the flaunting banners of the goldenrod remind us of the 
approach of autumn and of the passing of all transitory things. What 
is more frail than the bloom of grass? And yet we are told a number 
of times in the Book of books that “all flesh is as grass, and all the 
glory of man as the flower of grass,” but that “the word of the Lord 
endureth forever.” —An Observer. 
