Eye Spy: Afield with Nature Among Flowers and Animate Things

Those "shrinkin' hearts" of the barberry blossom, so long the wonder and amusement of children, including many children of adult growth, have, so far as I know, herein found their first and only historian—historian, but not interpreter. For Hosea Biglow, nor his literary parent, James Russell Lowell, never dreamed of the significance of this strange spectacle in the shrinkin' hearts of the barberry bloom when surprised with the point of a pin.

But the bee can tell us all about it. He has known this singular trick in the barberry for ages, and kept the secret all to himself. Only comparatively recently (1859 or thereabouts) did the secret leak out, when Darwin, by the previous hints of several other philosophers, discovered the key which unlocked the mystery of this as well as thousands of other similar riddles among the flowers.

These strange "manners" of the blossoms had then a deep vital principle at their base. They had not always been thus, but had gradually, through long ages of time, changed and modified their shapes, colors, odors, nectar, and their manners for one purpose—to insure their pollen being conveyed away upon the bodies of insects and carried to a second flower, and there placed upon the stigma to insure fertilization and development of the seed.

"In archin' bowers"

The plans, devices, tricks, and pranks by which flowers accomplish this result are past belief. I have indicated only a few by way of a hint, and in previous papers on the bluebottle and figwort have described others, but none quite similar to the barberry.

Fig. 1

We all know the barberry, the prickly, thorny barberry, whether with its "strings o' golden flowers" or its drooping clusters of brilliant scarlet acid berries. But each one of those berries is but a token of a bee's visit, as we shall presently see. At Fig. 1 I have shown a plan of the barberry blossom seen from below, its yellow sepals and petals open, and opposite each of the inner set, and pressed against it, a stamen. This stamen is shown below in three stages—closed, partly open, and fully open—the queer little ear-shaped lids finally drawn up, showing the pollen-pockets, and also withdrawing a portion of the pollen from the cavity. At the centre is seen the circular tip of the ovary which finally becomes the berry—that is, when the little scheme here planned has been fulfilled. This circular form represents the tip of the ovary, and the little toothed rim the stigma. Now what is the intention here expressed? This construction represents a plan, first, to invite a bee—this is done by its color, its fragrance, and its nectar, which is secreted in a gland at the base of each petal, near the centre of the flower; secondly, to make that bee bear away the pollen; thirdly, to cause that same bee to place this pollen on the stigma rim of the next flower he visits. In Fig. 2 we see how beautifully this plan is carried out by the insect, without his suspecting how perfectly he has been utilized. At A we see the same flower cut open sideways, the waiting, expectant stamens tucked away at the sides, leaving a free opening to the base of the flower. Now comes our bee. He must needs hang back downward to sip at the drooping flower. As his tongue enters, and finally touches the base of these stamens, clap! they come one after another against his tongue and face, and there deposit their load of pollen (B). The bee, who has doubtless got over his surprise at this demonstration—if, indeed, he ever had any—now flies to another blossom, perhaps on the same cluster (C). Entering it as before, the notched edge of the stigmatic rim comes in contact with the pollen on his tongue and face, and the flower is thus fertilized by pollen from another barberry blossom, the intention of the flower now perfectly realized in cross-fertilization.

Fig. 2

The seeds from cross-fertilized flowers are almost invariably more vigorous, and thus yield more vigorous plants, than those of flowers fertilized with their own pollen, and this is why most flowers have necessarily developed some means by which cross-fertilization can be secured. And this has been done through evolution working on the lines of natural selection, those seedlings which had originally happened, by a variation in the flower, to be thus favored by some chance peculiarity which insured cross-fertilization, winning in the struggle with the previous weaker individuals, and finally supplanting them altogether.

A Woolly Flock

But who would ever think of calling the whizzing harvest-fly a "bug?" Rather will they persist that he is a "locust," which he is not. He should be called the cicada. The "grasshopper" of the fields is the true locust, whose swarms of certain species in the Orient have so often shut out the sun, and whose voracious feeding has laid waste whole square miles of vegetation in a single night.

But such a swarm of locusts as we read of in Scripture, and frequently in the history of modern times and in our own country, would be comparatively tame and merely amusing affairs were they composed of our so-called "locust"—he of the whizzing timbrel in the sultry August noon. For this insect has no teeth, and could not bite a blade of grass if it wanted to. And herein we see one of the peculiarities which constitute him a "bug," and which also includes in the same company our woolly swarm upon the alder twigs. In place of teeth these insects are supplied with a beak for sucking the juices of plants. If we carefully examine the dense snowy mass we find it composed of small tufts closely crowded together, each tuft being borne upon the plump body of a small insect whose beak is deeply sunk into the tender bark.

I have separated one of the little creatures, and furnished his portrait as he appears when viewed through a magnifying-glass, only the lower portion of his body being covered with the wool, his head and legs being usually concealed beneath the pluming growth of his neighbors. This feathery growth seems of the most delicate consistency—in truth, more suggestive of white "mould" than any other natural substance, and seems to proceed from pores in the plump body beneath it. The slightest breath wafts the cobwebby tips of the fringe, and the least rude touch easily dislodges it, exposing the round, naked body of what is now clearly seen to be an aphis, or plant-louse, which nature, for some reason, has seen fit to clothe with swan's-down.

In early June the white down first appears on the alders in tiny patches here and there. This gradually extends down the stem, at length, perhaps, completely encircling it, and thus remaining for weeks, the full-grown aphis at last attaining a length of about three-sixteenths of an inch.

A similar brood is sometimes seen in profusion on beech-trees and also on the apple-tree. But if we imagine that because these insects are without teeth they are therefore harmless, we are greatly mistaken. What they lack in individual effect they fully compensate for in numbers, and the combined attack of a girdle of thousands of these sucking beaks, for weeks absorbing the sap, may often result in the death of the branch beyond them.

"What Ails Him"

Having thus decided, I closed my note-book, but the experience of the next few minutes quite reversed my plans, and led to the completion of an entirely different article, or the pictures for it at least, on the same afternoon, without awaiting the morrow.

The story was simply told, and my readers who have followed my articles already know what the story is. We remember the strange history of those little, puzzling cocoon clusters on a grass stem, those "bewitched cocoons" which gave birth to swarms of tiny wasps instead of moths, and we realize that here is more of the same sort of mischief, all of which I explained to my good neighbor, to his astonishment. How a few weeks since, when our caterpillar was much smaller than now, a tiny, black midget hovered about him, and, in spite of all his wriggling and squirming, stung him again and again, each time inserting within his body its tiny eggs. Perhaps, and probably in this case, from the number of the white tokens, more than one of the flies took a turn at the unlucky victim, for he certainly seems to have got more than his share.

"These eggs thus inserted beneath the skin of the caterpillar," I explained, "soon hatched into minute white grubs, which immediately fastened themselves upon the tissues within the caterpillar's body, and he is now obliged to eat for the whole family, which he continues to do without any outward signs of inconvenience or protest, which, of course, would be useless. I fancy he must have frequent attacks of that 'all-gone' feeling that we hear so much about in dyspeptic people, but if he does he gives no hint of it by his looks, as he devours one leaf after another along the stem, and displays his plump proportions with evident pride—like the whole tribe of horny-tailed 'sphinx' caterpillars to which he belongs.

"But a few days ago he had a sudden and terrible experience. He had begun to think of retiring down among the dried leaves on the ground and spinning a cocoon, and there were bright visions of a future life filling his little green head—visions of a life on wings, as quick as thought, in an atmosphere of twilight and fragrance, and all manner of sweet indulgences. But his beautiful dream was interrupted, and probably will remain only as a dream. At one moment we see him in his prime, a perfect specimen for the 'bug-hunter' who is after the larva of Chœrocampa pampinatrix. In ten minutes we look at him again: we find his body shrunken and covered with minute white grubs, all standing on their tails, which are still imbedded in his body; here one barely emerged; here another half enshrouded in a gauzy cocoon; others with their bodies bent into loops weaving the webby gauze about them, while a few hours hence all are concealed, as we see them now, in the completed long, oval, white cocoons which still remain attached to his body."

The Cicada's Last Song

Our cicada belongs to quite another family of insects. Instead of jaws for biting, as our fiddling "grasshopper," the cicada has only a long "beak for sucking," and this feature alone connects him with the tribe of "bugs." Moreover, his methods of music-making are very different from those of the "grasshopper" tribe. It is the male only that makes the music, and his instrument is a drum. He carries two of these inclosed within his body, the opening of each being covered beneath by a broad plate, which is easily seen on the under surface of the body. Deep within lies the "drum," and the hard and hollow body of the insect acts as a resonator or sounding-board. This drummer does not use his legs as drum-sticks, as might be supposed, his drum being vibrated by twitching muscles and cords.

The method by which the sound is produced may be illustrated by a simple experiment. Take a small piece of stiff, sized writing-paper or smooth Manilla paper, and by pressure with some rounded blunt instrument produce a slight hollow or blister upon its surface. Upon pressure from either side this blister will be found to "snap," and could we but repeat the operation with great rapidity, a continuous sound would result. The toy called the "telegraph ticker" is made on this principle, the blister being made on a strip of steel, and the click produced by pressure upon its top, the elasticity of the metal bringing it back to its original position of rest, and each motion accompanied by a snap as the blister changes sides. Indeed, we need look no further than the bottom of almost any well-ordered tin pan for a complete illustration of this principle. So our cicada is a drummer, and his favorite tune is a "roll-call," the beats following each other with such rapidity as to form a tone. All through the summer we hear his strain. Even at this moment, as I write, a very long-winded specimen is tuning up in the tree just outside my studio window, and I am almost moved to give him some good advice. Have a care, my noisy minstrel. If it were I alone who were within ear-shot of your noise all might be well with you, but there are others near by to whom your music hath charms. Have a care! Only a moment ago I heard an ominous hum on my piazza, and upon investigation discovered a huge sand-hornet prying about the premises. He knows what he is looking for, and so ought you, if your parents have done their duty by you. Hereditary instinct at least ought to teach you that your drum should play second fiddle to that hornet's humming music. I remember once being the witness of the sad fate of an ancestor of yours who drummed not wisely but too well. He was monopolizing the neighborhood, just as you are doing now, when I noticed his principal effort was suddenly cut short in the middle in a most unusual manner. If he had been a singer I would have supposed some rival had clapped a hand over his mouth, so suddenly was the song abbreviated. In another moment there was a rustling among the leaves, as something fell from the tree in his immediate neighborhood. Down, down it dropped, its passage to the ground accompanied by one or two short, sharp, spasmodic tattoos on that same noisy drum. The object fell among some rocks, but before I could reach the spot the humming sound of a sand-hornet greeted my ears, and in a moment more the insect took flight directly across my path, and, what was more, he was not alone. Would you know who accompanied him? Look then on the picture on page 252, and have a care, my noisy friend, for the lineal descendant of that sand-hornet now hovers outside my doorway. He has a grudge against your tribe, and he is even now on your scent. Perhaps you may be interested to know what the hornet did with that rash ancestor of yours. Well, I will tell you, for your own good. Guided by his noisy demonstration, the hornet spied him on his twig, and in a second had pounced upon him and, like a highwayman, stabbed him to the heart with a poisoned javelin. This cut short his song, as you may well suppose, and he fell in the grasp of his assailant. In another moment the hornet got a fresh hold upon him, and though your ancestor, like yourself, was much bigger than the hornet, those powerful, buzzing wings made an easy burden of him for quite a distance across the meadow. Here our captor took a rest, and after tugging that helpless cicada some distance up a high fence-rail, started off on another flight, which was brought to an end in the grass at the foot of a tree. In a moment more the hornet was seen tugging its huge load up the trunk. When some ten feet in height a third flight was made, this time gradually settling down on the roof of a shed down-hill. Tugging his game to the edge of the shed roof, a fourth trip was made, and this landed the two in the neighborhood of a sand bank at the roadside in the valley below.

A sand bank of some sort is usually the terminus of this strange ride of the cicada. Thus far many curious observers have followed the two, and wondered what it was all about. If they had cared to follow the matter to the end, they would doubtless have wondered still more at the strange fate which awaited the unlucky harvest-fly, whose last song had been his own requiem. The sand-hornet is also known as the "digger-wasp," the largest of its kind, the most formidable of all our hornets, and carrying within its black, yellow-spotted body a most searching and terrible poisoned sting. It was a common belief in ancient times that "seventeen pricks of a hornet" would "kill a man," to quote from Pliny; and there are many country people to-day who would as quickly attack a rattlesnake as this big sand-hornet, and who "absolutely know" of men who have been "knocked down" and even "killed" by one stab of its sting. However this may be, it is well to keep at a respectful distance. When we know what the little yellow-jacket can do with its tiny dagger, and then reflect that this sand-hornet's javelin is about a third of an inch long, we can draw our own conclusions, and will readily understand why it was that our cicada's song was cut short. "But why didn't the hornet eat him on the spot? Why should it fly away with him and yank him about so unmercifully?" This is a common question with those who have observed the episode above described. A visit to the sand bank would have explained the object of it all. The exposed surface is seen to be perforated here and there with holes as large as one's little finger, while from one of them an occasional tiny stream of sand pours out, and we catch a glimpse of the horny, spiked legs of the digger-wasp within. Even as we observe him closely a loud hum is heard, and a filmy, buzzing object falls precipitately upon the bank, and in the jumble of wings and black bodies we now distinguish our hornet and cicada, which only a moment before had started from the edge of the shed roof above. The cicada is apparently dead, and is now an easy prey as the wasp lugs him to the mouth of one of the burrows, and soon disappears in its depths.

What a strange wonder-working medicine is this which the hornet carries in its laboratory! In the guise of death it yet prolongs life indefinitely. The ordinary existence of the cicada, for instance, is but a few weeks at most, and yet it is claimed by Mr. Riley that if for any reason the egg of the wasp should fail to hatch, the paralyzed cicada will remain in its condition of suspended animation for a year, and presumably longer.

Here is a suggestion for the materia medica which may open up immortal fame to the chemist of the future. What is this mysterious essence which the wasp carries in its poniard? As Professor Riley suggestively remarks, "If man could do what these wasps have done from time immemorial, viz., preserve for an indefinite period the animals they feed on by the simple insertion of some toxic fluid in the tissues, he would be able to revolutionize the present methods of shipping cattle and sheep, and obviate much of the cruelty which now attends the transportation of live-stock and much of the expense involved in cold storage."

INDEX

• Acrid buttercup leaves, 10.
• Agaric, 142, 144.
• Alders, leaf-rolling beetles of, 233.
• Amanita muscarius, 142; print from, 143.
• American velvet plant, 25.
• Andrena bee, 222.
• Andromeda-bell, its welcome to the bee, 221, 222.
• Aniline bath, 47.
• Aphides, 125, 126;
• pest of the rose-garden; plants and trees, 126;
• sucking the sap, 127;
• disappearance of a swarm, 128;
• all females; end of season males appear; wonderful multiplication of, 233, 236.
• Aphis lion (Hemorobida), 128, 129.
• Aphrophora, "spume-bearer," 89.
• Apple-trees bearing pumpkins and squashes, 192.
• Aquilegia canadensis, columbine, 46.
• Arachne, 106.
• Archippus. See Butterflies.
• Argiope riparia, ballooning or flying spiders, 120.
• Artists as interpreters of the beauty of the commonplace, 26.
• Asters, 110.
• Attacus prometheus, 75.
• Aurelius, 161.
• Balloon, the true, 118.
• Ballooning spiders (Argiope riparia), annual picnic of, 114;
• shooting of webs, 115;
• sailing out of sight; sending out broad bands from their spinnerets, 117;
• skilful handling, 118;
• making the balloon; the ascension; manner of alighting, 119.
• Baltimore oriole, 172.
• Banquet of beetles, 134.
• Barberry blossoms, shrinking hearts; strange manners, 224;
• an unsuspecting agent, 227.
• Bedegnar, sponge-gall, 43.
• Bees:—
• bumble, 6, 91;
• honey, 7;
• yellow-jacket, 91;
• Andrena, 222.
• Beetles:—
• floundering, 1;
• tiger (Cicindelidæ), oil, 2;
• snapping (Elater), 20;
• perfumed (Osmoderma scabei), 133;
• blue oil, 239.
• Bellworts, 44.
• Bigelow, Hosea, quoted, 224.
• Billings, Josh, quoted, 92, 124.
• Birds'-nests, materials of:—milkweed bark, toad-skins, and snake-skins, 171, 172;
• twine and horse-hair, caterpillar-skins, 172;
• wool, dandelion seeds, 173;
• gray lichens and seeds, 177.
• Black-paper hornet, his bad reputation, 94;
• a tempting target; results of an attack on his house, 96;
• making themselves promiscuous; the stoical bachelor, 97;
• his discomfiture, 98;
• antics explained; his hiding-place revealed, 100;
• favorite hunting-ground, 101;
• occasional big game; life of; manner of laying eggs; several broods in a season, 102;
• number of tiers in a nest; winter the best time to examine nests, 103.
• Black snake, 85.
• Blossom etiquette, 221, 222.
• Blue carnation, 46.
• Blue dahlia, 45.
• Blue oil beetle, 239.
• Blue pansies, 46.
• Blue rose, 45, 46.
• Blue tulip, 45.
• Bluets, Houstonia, 24, 208, 209.
• Boletus, 142.
• Bridge-building spiders, 104.
• Brooklyn Bridge, 104;
• "carrier" or "traveller" should have been called "spider," 105;
• Engineer Farrington crossing, 110.
• Brown screech-owl, 151.
• Browning, Robert, quoted, 26.
• "Bull's-eye" caterpillar, 156.
• Bumble-bee, 6, 91.
• Butterflies asleep at night, 168.
• Butterflies:—
• Idalia (Argynnis idalia), Archippus (Danais archippus), yellow swallow-tails (Papilio turnus), 131;
• Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta), 155, 158, 161;
• "comma" (Vanessa comma), 156, 161, 170;
• Atalanta (Cynthia atalanta), 158;
• semicolon (Vanessa interrogationis), 161.
• Canterbury bells, 42.
• Cardanus quoted, 93.
• Careless observation of nature, 185, 186.
• Carnation, blue, 46.
• Catbrier, 188.
• Caterpillars:—woolly-bear (Arctiadæ), 148;
• "bull's-eye" (Saturnia io), 156;
• sphinx (Chærocampa panipenatrix), 241.
• Cecropia, 156.
• Chinese pink, 73.
• Chipmonk, 153.
• Chrysalids, 161.
• Chrysanthemum, 86, 127.
• Cicada, 87, 246;
• his manner of feeding; how he differs from the grasshopper; the secret of his music, 250;
• his last song; borne off by his captor, 251;
• living food, 254;
• suspended animation, 255.
• Clintonia, 239.
• Clothes moth (Tineidæ), 170.
• Clover (Trifolium), four-leaved, 215;
• nine-leaved, found in groups, 216;
• possibilities of cultivation, 217;
• an exceptional find, 218, 219;
• saying its prayers, 219;
• lotus, 222.
• Cobweb showers, 114;
• blinding dogs interrupting sport, 114;
• flakes and rags of, 115;
• silken streamers, 116;
• shower in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, 120;
• on Brooklyn Bridge, 121.
• Cocoons:—curious, 145;
• solid to the core, 147;
• ribs and vertebræ, 149;
• secret of the hollow, 151;
• what the pellets were, 152;
• yielding wasps, 242.
• Colors of flowers, laws governing colors and combinations, 44, 45;
• natural exception to; three primary colors in the hyacinth, Egyptian lotus; sky reflections destroying color, 45.
• Columbine (Aquilegia canadensis, A. chrysantha, A. cærulea), puzzling color classification, from white through all shades of red, yellow, and blue, 46.
• "Comma." See Butterflies.
• Coral, gray, 73.
• Cow-spittle, 84, 86.
• Crickets, 71.
• Cross-fertilization of flowers, 30, 167, 208, 211, 229.
• Cuban belle's toilet, 21.
• Culpepper, Dr., quoted, 154.
• Cyanic, flowers with all shades of blue and red without yellow, 45.
• Cynips seminator, Cynips rosæ, gall-flies, 40.
• Dahlia, blue, 45.
• Daisy, pesky white weed, almost identical with the marguerite, 25;
• a marvel of a flower, 28, 205, 211.
• Dandelion. Seeds used for birds'-nests, 173;
• mutilation of, 174;
• a week of retirement, 175;
• flight of the seed-bed, 176;
• the burglar discovered, 177, 211.
• Darwin, 202, 209, 224.
• Darwin flowers, 166, 167, 168.
• De Candolle. Color limitations in flowers, 45, 202.
• Deer-mouse, 151.
• Desmodium, 223.
• "Digger-wasps," sand-hornets, 252.
• Dungeons of death, 54.
• Egyptian history, 53.
• Egyptian yellow lotus, 45.
• Evening primrose (Œnothera biennis), 85;
• luminous blossoms of, 163;
• daylight mystery; seeds, pods, and caterpillars, 164;
• curious secret; two buds, 165;
• primrose blooms for moths, 168;
• blighted buds, 169;
• a poor recompense, 170.
• Fairy sponges, the growth of; rich colors of sweetbrier sponge, 38, 42;
• contents of the sponge, 42.
• False scorpions (Pedipalpi), 181;
• among old books and papers; born rovers, 182.
• Figwort (Scrophularia), tall and spindling, purplish-olive blossoms; odor of; food for wasps, 28;
• fertilized by wasps; bud open in the morning; flowers change from day to day, 30;
• growth of the ovary, 32.
• Flies:—gall, 40;
• lace-wing, 122;
• gold-banded, 129;
• house, 178;
• laphria, 182;
• ichneumon, 196;
• parasitic, 200;
• harvest, 87, 246.
• Floundering beetle, color of, 1;
• funny characteristics of; leaking habits, 2;
• playing possum, 3;
• feats of; diminutive size when young; golden-yellow case, 4;
• number of joints, 5;
• a snug resting-place; first outing, 6;
• in the bee hotel; transformation, 8;
• in the mummy-case; change of diet, 10.
• Fly-fungus, 184.
• Flying-machine, toy, 117.
• Fox-fire, a column of phosphorescence, of greenish, ghostly hue, 12;
• prosaic fence-post; effect of a reflection of lantern in water, 13;
• feeding on darkness, 14;
• short life of, 15;
• village spook; haunted mill, 16;
• a night terror, 18;
• six square feet of brilliancy, 19;
• yeast as a possible cause; dead fish; curious effect from decaying potatoes, 20;
• phosphorus not always present; burnt oyster-shells in combination with certain acids; the supposed secret of, 22;
• decoy for deer; the largest on record, 23.
• Frog-hoppers, 89.
• Frog-spit, 84, 89.
• Gall-fly (Cynips seminator, Cynips rosæ), 40;
• a cousin to the wasps; magician in chemistry, 41.
• Genista, 223.
• Geometrical web-makers, 120.
• Ghost-fire, 15.
• Gold-banded flower-fly, larva of, 129.
• Gossamer showers, 113.
• Gramatophora trisignata, "Professor Wiggler," 81, 82.
• Grape-vine, 186-194.
• Grasshoppers, 71, 195;
• "Quakers;" camp-meeting ground, 197;
• a paralyzed specimen; unnatural movements, 198;
• a transparent body, 199;
• a swarm of flies, 200, 246.
• Green roses, 187.
• Grew, Nehemias, 205.
• Hang-bird, 172.
• Harris, "Insects Injurious to Vegetation," quoted, 89, 134, 233, 237.
• Harvest-fly, 87, 246.
• Hawthorne's fox-fire, 19, 23.
• "History of Selborne," 114.
• Hollyhock, 45.
• Honey-dew, 126.
• Honey-sippers, 221.
• Hornet, 87, 92;
• as mad as, 93;
• always on the rampage, 94, 100, 102.
• Horse-hair snakes, New England farmers' idea of the origin of; stories of, 65;
• flying over the meadows in haying time, 66;
• two specimens in alcohol, 69;
• what was found in a bait-box, 71.
• "Hot-foot," 92.
• House-fly (Musca domestica), his never-ending toilet, 178;
• a curious tag, 179;
• live young lobster, strength of his grip, 180;
• his many enemies; abundant use for all his eyes, 182;
• September and October danger months; the white nimbus; acute dyspepsia, 183.
• Houstonia, bluets, 208, 209.
• Hunters, 161.
• Hyacinth, 45.
• Ichneumon flies, 196.
• Idalia. See Butterflies.
• Jibing neighbors, 68.
• Johnny-jumper, 46.
• Jussieu, 202.
• Keats, John, quoted, 164.
• Lace-wing fly (Chrysopa oculata):—Color of eyes and wings, 122;
• lasting odor; ways of the gauzy sprite, 123;
• method of egg-laying; born in a land of plenty, 124;
• a voracious appetite; tubular teeth, 126.
• Lady-bug, larva of, 129.
• "Laphria-fly," 182.
• Lilac-bushes, 75.
• Lindley, 202.
• Linnæus, 202, 206.
• Locust, 232, 246.
• Lotus clover, 222.
• Lovelorn maiden, 213.
• Lowell, James Russell, 224.
• McCook, Rev. Dr., quoted, 110-118.
• Meadow contrasts, 247.
• Mignonette, 204.
• Monk's-hood blossom, 205.
• Morning gossamer, 112.
• Moths:—Polyphemus (Telea polyphemus), Attacus prometheus, 75, 196;
• Trisignata (Gramatophora trisignata), 81;
• Cecropia, Bull's-eye (Saturnia io), 156;
• twilight moth; common clothes moth (Tineidæ), 170.
• Mullein (Verbascum thrapsus), 25.
• Mummy-cases, 54.
• Mushrooms, 138;
• color of polyporus, 139;
• manner of making a spore-print, 140-144;
• colors of prints; high relief, 142;
• fixing the prints, 143.
• Mutilla ant, 197.
• Nasturtium, 205.
• Nature, check to rapid increase of, 195.
• Nelumbo, water-lily, 45.
• Nettle (Celtis), 154.
• Nettle-leaf tent-builders, laying the egg, 155;
• contents of the curled leaf, 156;
• gray and spine-covered, 156;
• rapid change of home, 157;
• another specimen of different color, stingless, 158;
• size of full-grown specimen; a surprise; preparing for the transformation, 159;
• an ever-interesting revelation; quaint golden ear-drops, 160;
• an astonishing trick, 161.
• New England farmers, 65.
• Niagara Suspension-bridge, manner of laying, 105;
• identical with that of the spider, 106.
• Noctiluca, marine phosphorescent animalculæ, 21.
• Noisy wigglers, 76.
• Nymphæa, water-lily, 45.
• Oak-apple, 43.
• October rowen-fields, 116.
• Odor of woods, 131.
• Oil beetle. See Beetles.
• Old rose, 73.
• Orb weavers, 120.
• Orchard oriole, 172.
• Osmoderma scabei, perfumed beetle, 134.
• Ovid quoted, 93.
• Pansies (Viola tricolor):—Great variety of color, 46;
• trickery of florists; aniline bath, 47;
• a chemical experiment; astonishing color, 48;
• ammonia as an agent; coloring an entire plant emerald green, 50;
• results from the fumes of sulphur matches, 52.
• Passion-flower, 189.
• Passion-vine, 186.
• Perfumed beetle (Osmoderma scabei), curious odor of, 133;
• suggesting Russia-leather; home on the maple-tree; sipping the sap; easily startled, 134.
• Pink, 205.
• Plant-louse of the apple-tree, 236.
• Pliny, 64, 114, 116, 252.
• Pollen bearers, 30.
• Polyphemus. See Moths.
• Polyporus, 144.
• Preservation of food by wasps, 256.
• Primrose ash, 73.
• Professor of biology, 70.
• "Professor Wiggler," what a florist's window suggested; the lilac-bush his home, 73;
• his characteristics, 74;
• how he came to be named; bringing him up by hand, 75;
• lively capers, 76;
• five changes of clothes; voracious feeding, 77;
• how he retains his head-shells, 78;
• digging out a home, 79;
• home completed; skilful concealment; what comes from the cocoon, 81;
• burrowing habits, 82.
• Puff-balls, 136;
• its purple cloud, 136;
• rapid change of substance; its cloud mass of reproductive atoms, 137;
• same results from mushrooms and toadstools, 138.
• Pungent odors, 132.
• "Quaker." See Grasshopper.
• "Racer," 85.
• Red Admiral. See Butterflies.
• "Red-hot child of nature," 92, 96.
• Redstart, 176.
• Red-tailed hawk, 152, 153.
• Riddles in flowers, 202;
• curious specimens; botanists and philosophers, 204;
• pollen-carrying, 207;
• galaxy of white or blue stars, 208;
• variety of construction, 209;
• solving the riddle, 211.
• Riley, C. V., quoted, 254.
• "Robin's pin-cushion," 43.
• Roland for an Oliver, 59.
• Roots, becoming stems and bearing leaves, 87.
• Rose garden, 126.
• Roses, blue, 45, 46;
• green, 187.
• Rosy moth, 85.
• Rowen-field, 116, 218.
• Sabbath sanctuary bouquet, 26.
• Sacred "scarabæus," emblem of immortality, 53.
• Sage blossom, its welcome to the bee, 221.
• Sand-hornet:—
• Prospecting for game, 249;
• the capture, 250;
• manner of transporting its prey, 251;
• its color and terrible sting, 252;
• not to be trifled with; its home in the sand-bank, 253;
• deposits its egg and leaves, 254;
• its mysterious poison, 256.
• Scrophularia, figwort, 28.
• Semicolon. See Butterflies.
• Sheep-spit, 84.
• Singular mimic fruit, 42.
• Small speckled beetle, 86.
• Smilax, 188.
• Snake expert, 67.
• Snake stories, 65.
• Snake-spit, 84, 85.
• Snapping beetle. See Beetles.
• "Snowin' 'pider-webs," 113.
• Sphinx caterpillar (Chærocampa pampenatrix) with his burden, 241, 242;
• the mischief-maker (Microgaster), 245.
• Spice-bush, 131, 132.
• Spiders, webs one hundred feet long; autumn best time for observation, 106;
• precocious baby spiders; building a bridge, 108;
• moored by guy threads, 110;
• ballooning, 112;
• at sea, 113.
• Sponge-ball, commonly known as Bedegnar, 43.
• Sprengel, 166, 202, 206.
• "Spume-bearer" (Aphrophora), 89;
• allied to bugs; his aerated bath; graduation from his surroundings, 87;
• his color and size; his alertness, 88;
• time of egg-laying and hatching; power of leaping, 89;
• no secret process of making suds; sun's evaporation necessitates continuous additions, 90.
• Squirrel, 153.
• Statue of Liberty, 108.
• Stems assuming the functions of roots, 187.
• Summer meadows, 83.
• Sweetbrier sponge, 40.
• Sweet-pea, 188.
• Tachina, a parasitic fly, 200.
• Tendrils, what they are; a stem or modified root, 187;
• reaching for conquest, 188;
• not a special or primal organ, 189;
• method of contraction, 191;
• the reverse twist, its function, 192;
• singular botanical prank, 194.
• Thelaphora cærulea, fox-fire, 22.
• Tiger-beetle, wonderful speed and agility of, 2.
• Toad-spit, 84.
• Toadstools, 19, 138.
• Trailing cobwebs, 113.
• True locust, the, 232.
• Tulip, blue, 45.
• Tumble-bug, his former eminence, 53;
• used for ornaments and decorative purposes; his proud lineage, 54;
• male and female inseparable; the two familiar species; its season, 55;
• curious antics; bug talk, 56;
• a question of selection, 58;
• indefatigable workers; manner of working, 59;
• Mrs. Tumble-bug's industry, 60;
• singular manner of burying the ball, 61;
• the chrysalis state, 62;
• young Mr. Tumble-bug begins life, 63.
• Twilight moth. See Moths.
• Union Square Fountain, 45.
• Vireo, strange materials in the nest of, 147, 164, 171, 172.
• Wasps, as cross-fertilizers, 30;
• manner of transferring pollen, 31, 91;
• "Digger," sand hornets, 242, 252.
• Weeds, artistically treated, 27;
• barn-yard weeds no longer commonplace, 28.
• Welcome odor of the woods, 131.
• Welcome of the flowers, 30, 223.
• White, Gilbert, quoted, 114-117.
• White, J., 161.
• White Mountains, 97.
• White-tailed black wasp, 94.
• Wiggler moth (Gramatophora trisignata), time of appearance of, 81.
• Wild-star cucumber, 189.
• Witch-hazel divining-rod, 214.
• Wolf-spiders, short-legged dodgers; crab-like manner of walking, 120.
• Wood-fairies at work; their magic wands, 36;
• mischief-makers, 37;
• results of their pranks, 38.
• Woolly-bear caterpillar. See Caterpillar.
• Woolly flock, 230;
• expert in bugs, 231;
• what constitutes a bug, 232, 235;
• first appearance in June; on alders; destruction of apple-trees; sucking-beaks, 233;
• wingless but covered with woolly down, 236.
• Worm-eating warbler, vireo, 164.
• Xanthic, flowers including yellow in their color, 45.
• Yellow geranium, 45.
• Yellow larkspur, 45.
• Yellow-jacket bee, 91.
• Yellow-warbler, 171.