Woodside or, Look, Listen, and Learn. by Caroline Hadley (best books to read for women .TXT) 📕

The children were delighted to recognize, among others, sketches of daisies, cowslips, buttercups, wood-anemones, wild hyacinths, forget-me-nots, eyebright, red and white clover, and many kinds of flowering grasses and graceful fern leaves.

"What is that?" they said, as they saw something that looked curious but not pretty.

"That is one of the sketches I took in Cornwall two or three miles from the Land's End. It is a poor, unhappy furze-bush, covered with dodder. The dodder is what is called a parasitical plant; that is, a plant that lives entirely on another. There are several kinds of dodders: some live entirely on flax, some on nettles, but those that stick to clover and furze-bushes are the most common in this country.

"When the seed of a dodder dropped into the ground begins to grow, it feels about for the kind of plant it wants to live upon: if it cannot find it, it dies.

"This furze dodder, you see, has found what it wanted, and, having done so, began at once to coil its pink thread-like stem on that of the furze. Now it had gained its footing, and threw out a great many more fine stems in all directions, after the fashion of strawberry runners, rooting as it grew. There are thousands of little dodder plants sucking the life out of the furze. I have seen many of the bushes quite smothered, and even killed, by this unpleasant and greedy plant.

"When you are older, if you study the ways of plants, you will find them quite as interesting as those of animals. They have to get their living; and some, like the dodder, prefer to get it at the expense of another; and others resort to all kinds of plans to keep themselves and their kinds alive.

"The acid of the pretty wood-sorrel is a poison, so nothing will eat it; and the buttercups growing in meadows are untouched by cattle, because of the poison in their leaves and stems.

"I might tell you of many other plants that live in safety because they are defended by poison, or thorns, or prickles, or some peculiar shape. The leaves of the common holly are only prickly on the lower branches, where it needs protection from browsing cattle.

"Then there are wonderful contrivances for keeping not only the single plant but its kind alive, which you will learn one day.

"There are plants which bear seeds in very great numbers, like the field-poppy, so that some of them are sure to survive. The winds carry other seeds to great distances, because they have beautiful feathery down attached to them, which causes them to be easily blown about--such as thistle and dandelion seeds.

"Birds, too, are great seed-sowers: they eat the wild fruits which contain the seed. These fruits are generally red or black, so as to attract birds to them. Among the red ones are hips, the fruit of the wild rose; and haws, which contain the seed of the white-thorn. Among the black are blackberries, the fruit of the bramble; and sloes, which are like a very small hard plum. The birds eat these, and drop the seed which is inside of the fruit on to the ground."

Then Sarah came into the room to say that Jane had come from Woodside to take the children back.

"We must wait for Jack," said Mary.

"Yes," said Aunt Lizzie. "I daresay the boys will be home directly. Why, here they are.--How hot you look, Jack!"

"It is so warm to night, aunt, and we have walked fast. We've had a splendid time of it at Charley Foster's, and we stayed till the last minute, so we hurried home at last." Where-upon Jack drew out his pocket-handkerchief to wipe his hot face, forgetting all about the little frogs. The loose knot slipped, and you may guess what happened. The frogs, delighted to get out of Jack's warm pocket, were soon hopping about the room.

"What have you there, Jack? what does this mean?" asked Aunt Lizzie. But she could not help laughing, for she knew what odd things boys will do.

Jack explained to her how he had caught the young frogs to put into the Woodside pond, that he might watch them there.

"Well, you must catch them again," said his aunt, "and I will give you a paper bag to carry them in, only you need not suppose that there are no frogs in grandpapa's pond. Charley's pond is large and shaded, while the Woodside pond is small and open; and the weather has been very dry lately, so the frogs have kept in the soft mud at the bottom. You will see plenty of young frogs after the next shower of rain hopping about the edges of that pond."

"The very earth, the steamy air, Are all with fragrance rife; And grace and beauty everywhere Are bursting into life. Down, down they come, those fruitful stores, Those earth-rejoicing drops; A momentary deluge pours, Then thins, decreases, stops."

ANON.

"There seems likely to be a change in the weather," said grandpapa one morning at breakfast. "The wind has got round to the west, and there are clouds about."

"I am so glad," said Mary.

"So am I," added Annie. "It has been too hot for the last two or three weeks."

"We shall all be glad to see a little rain," said grandpapa; "the garden wants it badly enough, and so do the newly-mown fields."

Grandpapa was right, for sure enough during the day there were many cooling showers, which made everything out of doors look bright and fresh.

In the evening grandmamma sat at work in the drawing-room by the open doors which led straight into the garden, and the children were with her.

Jack was lying on the floor with his face to the garden, and supposed to be reading a book; while the little girls were busy with some easy fancy-work, making something to take home to their mother when they left Woodside.

Jack seemed to be more interested in something out of doors than he was in his book. At last he exclaimed, "Grandmamma, do look; isn't that a beautiful white fleecy cloud?"

"Yes, it is indeed, Jack. Clouds are beautiful and well worth looking at."

The girls put down their work and went to the doors to look out, or rather up, at the deep blue sky, covered with patches of downy white.

"That cloud looks as if it were made of snow mountains and caves," said Mary. "See how it changes its shape: now there is another cloud coming to it: now they have melted into one."

"The sky is one beautiful thing that you can watch anywhere, in town or country, in summer or winter," said grandmamma. "It is like a picture-book that is always open; and the pictures are always changing."

The children stood and watched the clouds as they sailed about like majestic swans. Some moved faster than others, and came in front of them. They mingled and they parted, and took all sorts of shapes. The colour changed from pure white to delicate gray; and again a stormy cloud appeared, dark with rain that would fall somewhere before long.

"O grandmamma, look!" they all exclaimed, as the evening sun shone from behind a cloud, gilding its edges with gold.

At last, when they had been for some time feasting their eyes with the beauty of cloudland, something else struck Jack, and he said, "How sweet everything smells after the rain!"

"Yes, it does, Jack. The very gravel paths and garden mould smell fresh; and as to the flowers, they are sweeter than ever."

"I can smell mignonnette," said Mary.

"I can smell the stocks," said Jack.

"And I can smell the honeysuckle," said Annie.

"Do, grandmamma, let us walk round the garden, to smell the flowers," said all the children; "the gravel is almost dry."

"Very well, you may go; but don't go on the grass--keep to the path."

Jack was off at a bound, and his sisters were not much behind; and they visited flower after flower, sniffing their sweet perfumes. The tall white lilies gave out so strong a scent that, sweet as it was, they did not care to bend them down to their faces; but the roses, after the rain, were so delicious that they did not want to let them go. They found, however, that it was not the large showy roses which had the sweetest smell.

They went to the arch along which the honeysuckle was growing, and then they smelled the rich carnations and the fragrant mignonnette.

Grandmamma called to them not to stay out too long; but they said, "May we pick you a little nosegay first? the flowers are just lovely."

"Very well," grandmamma said; "but don't let it be too large."

It really was difficult to know what to leave out when all was so sweet; but they thought mignonnette, a half-blown moss rose, some sweet-peas, a piece of honeysuckle and of white jasmine, some pinks, and a little stock, could not fail to be agreeable. They thought more of what would smell sweet than of bright colour; and grandmamma was well pleased with her nosegay.

"Grandmamma," said Jack, "there is a poor-looking flower like a small stock in the garden; it smells so sweet."

"It is a stock--the night-flowering stock. The flower is dull-coloured and insignificant; but it has a powerful odour. You must not suppose that the sweet scent of flowers is for our pleasure alone. The perfumes are of great use to the plants themselves, and to the insects that live on honey."

"Of what use can they be to the plants?" asked Mary.

"The perfume is chiefly due to a kind of oil found in the blossoms of plants, and sometimes in the leaves as well. Lavender, rosemary, thyme, and herbs used in cooking, are examples of plants whose leaves as well as flowers possess this ethereal oil, as it is called. Caterpillars do not like the taste of these oils, and leave these highly-scented plants alone. It is, however, generally the flowers only that smell; and now you can guess why they are protected by their fragrance. What is the most important part of the flower?"

"Its seed," replied Mary.

"Yes; and as the cattle will not eat the flowers, the seed is safe from them."

"But they eat flowers in hay," said Jack.

"True; but by the time the grass is cut many seeds have ripened and have dropped out of their husks; and when flowers are dry, as they are in hay, they lose their particular scent and the oil with it. But the very perfume which keeps away the enemies of the flower attracts its friends the insects, whose sense of smell is very keen."

"Why do flowers want insects?" asked Annie.

"Because they want their yellow dust taken from one flower to another, to ripen their seeds, or to fertilize them, as it is called. The seeds are far better if they are ripened by the pollen or dust of another blossom than by the pollen of their own flower. The bees, as you know, get covered with this dust as they visit one flower after another; some of