TIIE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
113 
the most beautiful preventive arrangements are to be 
found; and the most multitudinous. Kerner divides 
them into two groups : one containing those struc¬ 
tures which completely cover in the nectar; the other 
containing those in which the closure is incomplete, 
only a narrow orifice being left. In the first group in¬ 
sects have no means of access except by lifting up the 
over-arching or closely-approximated parts, which al¬ 
ways implies a vigorous push, and can never be effected 
except by an animal of tolerable size; for a creature of 
such dimensions as not necessarily to come in contact 
with the pollen and stigma will also be without the 
strength to push asunder the parts which form the 
nectar cavity. Antirrhinum and Toad-flax are quoted 
as instances of this formation. An insect alighting on 
the lower lip cannot get at the nectar in the spur unless 
it is heavy enough to depress the lip. In the second 
group, where the passage is not completely closed, the 
constriction is effected by curvatures and swellings. 
In the Narcissus and (Enothera the lower part of the 
perianth is narrowed into a channel only wide enough 
to admit the entrance of a long proboscis. Sometimes 
it is the corolla which serves the purpose, being reduced 
in its lower part to a long, straight tube. In Monks¬ 
hood, the limb of the petal is rolled back in a spire; the 
nectar is, therefore, inaccessible to small insects. In 
Calceolaria the whole lower lip is rolled into a pouch 
whose entrance is so tortuous that it becomes impos¬ 
sible to most insects to get at the nectar. Strong and 
heavy humble bees alone can rifle it, and in so doing 
they must come in contact with stigma and pollen. 
Such innumerable instances and examples of contri¬ 
vances transcending all that the most fertile imagina¬ 
tion of man could invent are crowded together in the 
works of Darwin, Sir John Lubbock, Kerner, and 
others, that it is difficult to know where to stop in 
making mention of them; but the result amounts 
simply to this, that so infinite a variety of means points 
to one unmistakable object. Insects that convey pollen 
from plant to plant are welcome guests, and useless 
creatures are excluded. The discoverers of the last cen¬ 
tury paved the way to the advanced knowledge of this. 
They were well satisfied with a little learning; and it 
is only another proof of the extreme modesty of true 
science that our present great and successful investiga¬ 
tors do not now proclaim that they have discovered the 
secrets of Nature, but rather that their knowledge is 
still in its infancy; that a rich field for observation and 
experiment is open, and that the veil is far from being 
lifted.— Chambers' 1 Journal. 
THE WEE YELLOW PRIMROSE. 
The wee yellow Primrose, sweet child of the spring, 
Looks up to the sky when the lark’s on the wing; 
It peeps frae its grassy bower, cosy and green, 
And nods to the Daisy, its bonny, wee frien’. 
It grows on the banks, and it grows on the brae, 
And blooms by the streamlet that sings on its way; 
It shines on the grave where our loved bairnies lie, 
And mithers come there whiles to weep and to sigh. 
It grows near the palace, and springs near the cot; 
Its face is fu’ bonnie, though lonely its lot; 
It smiles to the rich, and it smiles to the puir: 
But dull, prosy folk for its smiles dinna care. 
It shines like a star in the woodlands so green, 
And cheers lonely spots where it seldom is seen; 
But salt breezes kins it, and over it play, 
And wee birdies sing till’t the lang summer day. 
The silvery dews fa’ on’t on calm, summer eves, 
And dream a’ the nicht on its pure silken leaves; 
Such beauty its Maker the Primrose has given; 
Oh ! surely an angel cam doon wi’t frae Heaven. 
—Robert Tannant. 
MY PANSIES. 
I wish you could have seen my Pansy-bed last sum¬ 
mer. But then, I suppose you saw just as fine flowers 
as those I had, though I never could get used to think¬ 
ing that there were any quite so beautiful before. 
Every time I looked at them I saw something new to 
admire. One day I would decide that the pale yellow 
ones were my favorites. The next day I.would look 
the bed over, and make up my mind that the blue ones 
were loveliest of all. Then the black ones would put 
on such royal airs, that I felt as if I had done them an 
injustice, and I would waver in my decision. When 
the white ones came, I thought they were finest, 
and I would keep on thinking so until I looked at the 
others, and then, why, I made up my mind that they 
were all loveliest! 
I always loved Pansies. They are such human flow¬ 
ers. You catch them nodding at you, as if there was 
something in their wise little heads that they wanted 
to tell you, as soon as you had a little time to spare 
them. Tney look up at you with such an air of intelli¬ 
gence, that it is the easiest matter in the world to be¬ 
lieve they are thinking about something; who shall say 
they are not? And, with all their wonderful beauty, 
they are so modest, so unassuming, that this quality 
wins your heart in the same way that the wild Rose 
does. Real merit is always modest, I think, and it can 
