PLATE XXII
BLACK COHOSH.—C. racemosa.
The name elder is probably derived from the Anglo-Saxon aeld—a fire—and is thought to refer to the former use of the hollow branches in blowing up a fire.
Stem.—Two or three feet high. Leaves.—Ovate, lance-shaped or linear. Flowers.—Clustered within the usually five-lobed, cup-shaped involucre which was formerly considered the flower itself; the male flowers numerous and lining its base, consisting each of a single stamen; the female flower solitary in the middle of the involucre, consisting of a three-lobed ovary with three styles, each style being two-cleft. Pod.—On a slender stalk, smooth.
In this plant the showy white appendages of the cup-shaped clustered involucres are usually taken for the petals of the flower; only the botanist suspecting that the minute organs within these involucres really form a cluster of separate flowers of different sexes. While the most northerly range in the Eastern States of this spurge is usually considered to be New York, the botany states that it has been recently naturalized in Massachusetts. It blossoms from July till October.
Stems.—Smooth and trailing. Leaves.—Rounded, evergreen, veined with white. Flowers.—White, fragrant, in pairs. Calyx.—Four-toothed. Corolla.—Funnel-form, with four spreading lobes, bearded within. Stamens.—Four. Pistil.—One, its ovary united with that of its sister flower, its four stigmas linear.
At all times of the year this little plant faithfully fulfils its mission of adorning that small portion of the earth to which it finds itself rooted. But only the early summer finds the partridge vine exhaling its delicious fragrance from the delicate sister-blossoms which are its glory. Among the waxy flowers will be found as many of the bright red berries of the previous year as have been left unmolested by the hungry winter birds. This plant is found not only in the moist woods of North America, but also in the forests of Mexico and Japan. It is a near relative of the dainty bluets or Quaker ladies, and has the same peculiarity of dimorphous flowers (p. 232).
PLATE XXIII
PARTRIDGE VINE.—M. repens.
Leaves.—Oblong or lance-shaped. Flowers.—Greenish or yellowish-white, growing in a spike.
These two orchids are found in wet boggy places during the earlier summer, the green antedating the ragged fringed orchis by a week or more. The lip of the ragged fringed is three-parted, the divisions being deeply fringed, giving what is called in Sweet’s “British Flower-Garden” an “elegantly jagged appearance.” The lip of the green orchis is furnished with a tooth on each side and a strong protuberance in the middle. So far as superficial beauty and conspicuousness are concerned these flowers do scant justice to the brilliant family to which they belong, and equally excite the scornful exclamation, “You call that an orchid!” when brought home for analysis or preservation.
A shrub three to eight feet high. Leaves.—Opposite or whorled in threes, somewhat oblong and pointed. Flowers.—Small, white, closely crowded in round button-like heads. Calyx.—Four-toothed. Corolla.—Four-toothed. Stamens.—Four. Pistil.—One, with a thread-like protruding style and blunt stigma.
This pretty shrub borders the streams and swamps throughout the country. Its button-like flower-clusters appear in midsummer. It belongs to the family of which the delicate bluet and fragrant partridge vine are also members. Its flowers have a jasmine-like fragrance.
Stem.—One to three feet high, smooth, branching. Leaves.—Alternate, narrowly lance-shaped or oblong. Flowers.—White or flesh-color, small, growing in erect, slender spikes. Calyx.—Five-parted. Corolla.—None. Stamens.—Eight. Pistil.—One, usually with three styles.
These rather inconspicuous but very common flowers are found in moist places and shallow water.
The common knotweed, P. aviculare, which grows in such abundance in country dooryards and waste places, has slender, often prostrate, stems, and small greenish flowers, which are clustered in the axils of the leaves or spiked at the termination of the stems. This is perhaps the “hindering knotgrass” to which Shakespeare refers in the “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” so terming it, not on account of its knotted trailing stems, but because of the belief that it would hinder the growth of a child. In Beaumont and Fletcher’s “Coxcomb” the same superstition is indicated:
It is said that many birds are nourished by the seeds of this plant.
Stem.—Smooth, twining, and climbing over bushes, eight to twelve feet high. Leaves.—Heart or arrow-shaped, pointed, alternate. Flowers.—Greenish or pinkish, in racemes. Calyx.—Five-parted, with colored margins. Corolla.—None. Stamens.—Usually eight. Pistil.—One, with three stigmas. Seed-vessel.—Green, three-angled, winged, conspicuous in autumn.
In early summer this plant, which clambers so perseveringly over the moist thickets which line our country lanes, is comparatively inconspicuous. The racemes of small greenish flowers are not calculated to attract one’s attention, and it is late summer or autumn before the thick clusters of greenish fruit composed of the winged seed-vessels arrest one’s notice. At this time the vine is very beautiful and striking, and one wonders that it could have escaped detection in the earlier year.
Scape.—Low. Leaves.—Heart-shaped, wavy-toothed. Flowers.—White, one or two borne on each scape. Calyx.—Deeply five or six-parted, three of the divisions larger and toothed. Corolla.—Of five petals. Stamens.—Many. Pistils.—Five to ten.
The foliage of this pretty little plant suggests the violet; while its white blossom betrays its kinship with the wild strawberry. It may be found from June till August in woody places, being one of those flowers which we seek deliberately, whose charm is never decreased by its being thrust upon us inopportunely. Who can tell how much the attractiveness of the wild carrot, the dandelion, or butter-and-eggs would be enhanced were they so discreet as to withdraw from the common haunts of men into the shady exclusiveness which causes us to prize many far less beautiful flowers?
Stem.—Swollen at the joints, about three feet high. Leaves.—Whorled in fours, oval, taper-pointed. Flowers.—White, in a large pyramidal cluster. Calyx.—Inflated, five-toothed. Corolla.—Of five deeply fringed petals. Stamens.—Ten. Pistil.—One, with three styles.
In late July many of our wooded banks are decorated with the tall stems, whorled leaves, and prettily fringed flowers of the starry campion.
Closely allied to it is the bladder campion of the fields, S. Cucubalus, a much smaller plant, with opposite leaves, loosely clustered white flowers, a greatly inflated calyx, and two-cleft petals. This is an emigrant from Europe, which was first naturalized near Boston, and has now become wild in different parts of the country, quite overrunning some of the farm-lands which border the Hudson River.
PLATE XXIV
Dalibarda repens.
Leaves.—Thin, lance-shaped, in a spreading cluster from the root. Scape.—Slender, two to three feet high. Flowers.—White, small, growing in a wand-like, spiked raceme. Perianth.—Six-cleft at the summit, oblong-tubular. Stamens.—Six. Pistil.—One, with style three-cleft at apex.
In summer we find these flowers in the grassy woods. The generic title is the Greek word for “a female slave who grinds corn,” and refers to the mealy appearance of the blossoms.
Four to eight feet high. Leaves.—Divided into many firm, rounded leaflets. Flowers.—White, in large clusters; some perfect, others unisexual. Calyx.—Of four or five small petal-like sepals which usually fall off very early. Corolla.—None. Stamens.—Numerous. Pistils.—Four to fifteen.
Where a stream trails its sluggish length through the fields of midsummer, its way is oftentimes marked by the tall meadow rue, the feathery, graceful flower-clusters of which erect themselves serenely above the myriad blossoms which are making radiant the wet meadows at this season. For here, too, we may search for the purple flag and fringed orchis, the yellow meadow lily, the pink swamp milkweed, each charming in its way, but none with the cool chaste beauty of the meadow rue. The staminate flowers of this plant are especially delicate and feathery.
Stem.—Slender, about two feet high. Root-leaves.—Divided into from three to five leaflets, or entire. Stem-leaves.—Three-lobed or divided, or only toothed. Flowers.—White. Calyx.—Deeply five-cleft, usually with five small bractlets alternating with its lobes. Corolla.—Of five petals. Stamens.—Numerous. Pistils.—Numerous, with hooked styles which become elongated in fruit.
The white avens is one of the less noticeable plants which border the summer woods, blossoming from May till August. Later the hooked seeds which grow in round burr-like heads secure wide dispersion by attaching themselves to animals or clothing. Other species of avens have more conspicuous golden-yellow flowers.
PLATE XXV
TALL MEADOW RUE.—T. polygamum.
Stem.—Nearly smooth, two or three feet high. Leaves.—Alternate, somewhat lance-shaped, toothed. Flowers.—Small, white or flesh-color, in pyramidal clusters. Calyx.—Five-cleft. Corolla.—Of five rounded petals. Stamens.—Numerous. Pistils.—Five to eight.
The feathery spires of the meadow-sweet soar upward from the river banks and low meadows in late July. Unlike its pink sister, the steeple-bush, its leaves and stems are fairly smooth. The lack of fragrance in the flowers is disappointing, because of the hopes raised by the plant’s common name. This is said by Dr. Prior to be a corruption of the Anglo-Saxon mead-wort, which signifies honey-wine herb, alluding to a fact which is mentioned in Hill’s “Herbal,” that “the flowers mixed with mead give it the flavor of the Greek wines.”
Although the significance of many of the plant-names seems clear enough at first sight, such an example as this serves to show how really obscure it often is.
Leaves.—Rounded, somewhat heart-shaped, floating on the surface of the water. Flowers.—Large, white, or sometimes pink, fragrant. Calyx.—Of four sepals which are green without. Corolla.—Of many petals. Stamens.—Indefinite in number. Pistil.—With a many-celled ovary whose summit is tipped with a globular projection around which are the radiating stigmas.
This exquisite flower calls for little description. Many of us are so fortunate as to hold in our memories golden mornings devoted to its quest. We can hardly take the shortest railway journey in summer without passing some shadowy pool whose greatest adornment is this spotless and queenly blossom. The breath of the lily-pond is brought even into the heart of our cities where dark-eyed little Italians peddle clusters of the long-stemmed fragrant flowers about the streets.
PLATE XXVI
MEADOW-SWEET.—S. salicifolia.
In the water-lily may be seen an example of so-called plant-metamorphosis. The petals appear to pass gradually into stamens, it being difficult to decide where the petals end and the stamens begin. But whether stamens are transformed petals, or petals transformed stamens seems to be a mooted question. In Gray we read, “Petals numerous, in many rows, the innermost gradually passing into stamens,” while Mr. Grant Allen writes: “Petals are in all probability enlarged and flattened stamens, which have been set apart for the work of attracting insects,” and goes on to say, “Flowers can and do exist without petals, ... but no flower can possibly exist without stamens, which are one of the two essential reproductive organs in the plant.” From this he argues that it is more rational to consider a petal a transformed stamen than vice versa. To go further into the subject here would be impossible, but a careful study of the water-lily is likely to excite one’s curiosity in the matter.
Three to five feet high. Leaves.—Oval, coarsely toothed. Flowers.—Small, white, in slender spikes, otherwise resembling Purple Vervain.
It almost excites one’s incredulity to be told that this uninteresting looking plant, which grows rankly along the highways, is an importation from the tropics, yet for this statement the botany is responsible.
Scape.—A few inches high. Leaves.—Rounded, abruptly narrowed into spreading, hairy leaf-stalks; beset with reddish, gland-bearing bristles. Flowers.—White, growing in a one-sided raceme, which so nods at its apex that the fresh-blown blossom is always uppermost. Calyx.—Of five sepals. Corolla.—Of five petals. Pistil.—One, with three or five styles, which are sometimes so deeply two-parted as to be taken for twice as many.
But by degrees we are learning to reconcile ourselves to the fact that the more we study the plants the less we are able to attribute to them altogether unfamiliar and ethereal habits. We find that the laws which control their being are strangely suggestive of those which regulate ours, and after the disappearance of the shock which attends the shattered illusion, their charm is only increased by the new sense of kinship.
The round-leaved sundew is found blossoming in many of our marshes in midsummer. When the sun shines upon its leaves they look as though covered with sparkling dewdrops, hence its common name. These drops are a glutinous exudation, by means of which insects visiting the plant are first captured; the reddish bristles then close tightly about them, and it is supposed that their juices are absorbed by the plant. At all events the rash visitor rarely escapes. In many localities it is easy to secure any number of these little plants and to try for one’s self the rather grewsome experiment of feeding them with small insects. Should the tender-hearted recoil from such reckless slaughter, they might confine their offerings on the altar of science to mosquitoes, small spiders, and other deservedly unpopular creatures.
D. Americana is a very similar species, with longer, narrower leaves.
The thread-leaved sundew, D. filiformis has fine, thread-like leaves and pink flowers, and is found in wet sand along the coast.
Stems.—In length from six to ten feet high; purple-pink or bright red, stout. Leaves.—Large, alternate, veiny. Flowers.—White or pinkish, the green ovaries conspicuous, growing in racemes. Calyx.—Of five rounded or petal-like sepals, pinkish without. Corolla.—None. Stamens.—Ten. Pistil.—One, with ten styles. Fruit.—A dark purplish berry.
There is a vigor about this native plant which is very pleasing. In July it is possible that we barely notice the white flowers and large leaves; but when in September the tall purple stems rear themselves above their neighbors in the roadside thicket, the leaves look as though stained with wine, and the long clusters of rich dark berries hang heavily from the branches, we cannot but admire its independent beauty. The berries serve as food for the birds. A tincture of them at one time acquired some reputation as a remedy for rheumatism. In Pennsylvania they have been used with whiskey to make a so-called “portwine.” From their dark juice arose the name of “red-ink plant,” which is common in some places. The large roots are poisonous, but the acrid young shoots are rendered harmless by boiling, and are eaten like asparagus, being quite as good, I have been told by country people.
Despite the difference in the spelling of the names, it has been suggested that the plant was called after President Polk. This is most improbable, as it was common throughout the country long before his birth, and its twigs are said to have been plucked and worn by his followers during his campaign for the Presidency.
About one foot high. Leaves.—Oblong or lance-shaped, the upper passing into pointed bracts. Flowers.—Pure white, with a slender spur and fringed lip; growing in an oblong spike.
PLATE XXVII
POKEWEED.—P. decandra.
This seems to me the most exquisite of our native orchids. The fringed lips give the snowy, delicate flowers a feathery appearance as they gleam from the shadowy woods of midsummer, or from the peat-bogs where they thrive best; or perhaps they spire upward from among the dark green rushes which border some lonely mountain lake. Like the yellow fringed orchis (Pl. LII), which they greatly resemble in general structure, they may be sought in vain for many seasons and then will be discovered one midsummer day lavishing their spotless loveliness upon some unsuspected marsh which has chanced to escape our vigilance.
Scape.—Six to twelve inches high. Leaves.—From the root in a sort of flat rosette; conspicuously veined with white; thickish, evergreen. Flowers.—Small, greenish-white, crowded in a close spike.
The flowers of the rattlesnake-plantain appear in late summer and are less conspicuous than the prettily tufted, white-veined leaves which may be found in the rich woods throughout the year. The plant has been reputed an infallible cure for hydrophobia and snake-bites. It is said that the Indians had such faith in its remedial virtues that they would allow a snake to drive its fangs into them for a small sum, if they had these leaves on hand to apply to the wound.
Stem.—Simple at first, often branching near the summit. Leaves.—Divided into finely toothed segments. Flower-heads.—White, occasionally pink, clustered, small, made up of both ray and disk-flowers.
PLATE XXVIII
WILD CARROT.—D. carota. YARROW.—A. millefolium.
This is one of our most frequent roadside weeds, blossoming throughout the summer and late into the autumn. Tradition claims that it was used by Achilles to cure the wounds of his soldiers, and the genus is named after that mighty hero. It still forms one of the ingredients of an ointment valued by the Scotch Highlanders. The early English botanists called the plant “nosebleed,” “because the leaves being put into the nose caused it to bleed;” and Gerarde writes that “Most men say that the leaves chewed, and especially greene, are a remedie for the toothache.” These same pungent leaves also won it the name of “old man’s pepper,” while in Sweden its title signifies field hop, and refers to its employment in the manufacture of beer. Linnæus considered the beer thus brewed to be more intoxicating than that in which hops were utilized. The old women of the Orkney Islands hold “milfoil tea” in high repute, believing it to be gifted with the power of dispelling melancholy. In Switzerland a good vinegar is said to be made from the Alpine species. The plant is cultivated in the gardens of Madeira, where so many beautiful, and in our eyes rare, flowers grow in wild profusion.
Stems.—Tall and slender. Leaves.—Finely dissected. Flowers.—White, in a compound umbel, forming a circular flat-topped cluster.
When the delicate flowers of the wild carrot are still unsoiled by the dust from the highway, and fresh from the early summer rains, they are very beautiful, adding much to the appearance of the roadsides and fields along which they grow so abundantly as to strike despair into the heart of the farmer, for this is, perhaps, the “peskiest” of all the weeds with which he has to contend. As time goes on the blossoms begin to have a careworn look and lose something of the cobwebby aspect which won them the title of Queen Anne’s lace. In late summer the flower-stalks erect themselves, forming a concave cluster which has the appearance of a bird’s nest. I have read that a species of bee makes use of this ready-made home, but have never seen any indications of such an occupancy.
This is believed to be the stock from which the garden carrot was raised. The vegetable was well known to the ancients, and we learn from Pliny that the finest specimens were brought to Rome from Candia. When it was first introduced into Great Britain is not known, although the supposition is that it was brought over by the Dutch during the reign of Elizabeth. In the writings of Parkinson we read that the ladies wore carrot-leaves in their hair in place of feathers. One can picture the dejected appearance of a ball-room belle at the close of an entertainment.
Stem.—Smooth, stout, from two to six feet high, streaked with purple. Leaves.—Twice or thrice-compound, leaflets coarsely toothed. Flowers.—White, in compound umbels, the little umbels composed of numerous flowers.
This plant is often confused with the wild carrot, the sweet Cicely, and other white-flowered members of the Parsley family; but it can usually be identified by its purple-streaked stem. The umbels of the water-hemlock are also more loosely clustered than those of the carrot, and their stalks are much more unequal. It is commonly found in marshy ground, blossoming in midsummer. Its popular names refer to its poisonous properties, its root being said to contain the most dangerous vegetable-poison native to our country and to have been frequently confounded with that of the edible sweet Cicely with fatal results.
One or two feet high, occasionally much taller. Stems.—Branching. Leaves.—Dissected into fine, thread-like divisions. Flowers.—White, very small, growing in compound umbels with thread-like bracts.
This plant blossoms all summer in wet meadows, both inland and along the coast; but it is especially common in the salt marshes near New York City. It probably owes its English name to the fancied resemblance between the bracted flower-clusters and a bishop’s cap. Its effect is feathery and delicate.
One to three feet high. Root.—Thick, aromatic, edible. Leaves.—Twice or thrice-compound. Flowers.—White, growing in a few-rayed compound umbel.
The roots of the sweet Cicely are prized by country children for their pleasant flavor. Great care should be taken not to confound this plant with the water-hemlock, which is very poisonous, and which it greatly resembles, although flowering earlier in the year. The generic name is from two Greek words which signify scent and root.
Two to six feet high. Stem.—Stout. Leaves.—Divided into from three to eight pairs of sharply toothed leaflets. Flowers.—White, in compound umbels.
This plant is found growing in water or wet places throughout North America.
Scape.—A few inches to several feet high. Leaves.—Arrow-shaped. Flowers.—White, unisexual, in whorls of three on the leafless scape. Calyx.—Of three sepals. Corolla.—Of three white, rounded petals. Stamens and Pistils.—Indefinite in number, occurring in different flowers, the lower whorls of flowers usually being pistillate, the upper staminate.
Among our water-flowers none are more delicately lovely than those of the arrow-head. Fortunately the ugly and inconspicuous female flowers grow on the lower whorls, while the male ones, with their snowy petals and golden centres, are arranged about the upper part of the scape, where the eye first falls. It is a pleasure to chance upon a slow stream whose margins are bordered with these fragile blossoms and bright, arrow-shaped leaves.
Scape.—One to three feet high, bearing the flowers in whorled, panicled branches. Leaves.—From the root, oblong, lance-shaped or linear, mostly rounded or heart-shaped at base. Flowers.—White or pale pink, small, in large, loose clusters which branch from the scape. Calyx.—Of three sepals. Corolla.—Of three petals. Stamens.—Usually six. Pistils.—Many, on a flattened receptacle.
The water-plantain is nearly related to the arrow-head, and is often found blossoming with it in marshy places or shallow water.
PLATE XXIX
ARROW-HEAD.—S. variabilis.
A strong-scented, low, much branched and spreading herb. Leaves.—Somewhat oblong or heart-shaped, wavy-toothed. Flowers.—Greenish or yellowish-white, solitary on nodding flower-stalks. Calyx.—Five-cleft; enlarging and much inflated in fruit, loosely enclosing the berry. Corolla.—Between wheel-shaped and funnel-form. Stamens.—Five, erect, with yellow anthers. Pistil.—One. Fruit.—A green or yellow edible berry which is loosely enveloped in the much-inflated calyx.
We find the ground cherry in light sandy soil, and are more apt to notice the loosely enveloped berry of the late year than the rather inconspicuous flowers which appear in summer.
One to seven feet high. Stem.—Smooth, upright, branching. Leaves.—Opposite, lance-shaped, toothed. Flowers.—White or pinkish, growing in a spike or close cluster. Calyx.—Of five sepals. Corolla.—Two-lipped, the upper lip broad and arched, notched at the apex, lower lip three-lobed at the apex, woolly bearded in the throat. Stamens.—Four perfect ones, with woolly filaments and very woolly, heart-shaped anthers, and one small sterile one. Pistil.—One.
It seems to have been my fate to find the flowers which the botany relegates to “dry, sandy soil” flourishing luxuriantly in marshes; and to encounter the flowers which by rights belong to “wet woods” flaunting themselves in sunny meadows. This cannot be attributed to the natural depravity of inanimate objects, for what is more full of life than the flowers?—and no one would believe in their depravity except perhaps the amateur botanist who is endeavoring to master the different species of golden-rods and asters. Therefore it is pleasant to record that I do not remember ever having met a turtle-head, which is assigned by the botany to “wet places,” which had not gotten as close to a stream or a marsh or a moist ditch as it well could without actually wetting its feet. The flowers of this plant are more odd and striking than pretty. Their appearance is such that their common name seems fairly appropriate. I have heard unbotanical people call them “white closed gentians.”
PLATE XXX
TURTLE-HEAD.—C. glabra.
Stems.—Yellow or reddish, thread-like, twining, leafless. Flowers.—White, in close clusters. Calyx.—Five-cleft. Corolla.—With five spreading lobes. Stamens.—Five. Pistil.—One, with two styles.
Late in the summer we are perhaps tempted deep into some thicket by the jasmine-scented heads of the button-bush or the fragrant spikes of the clethra, and note for the first time the tangled golden threads and close white flower-clusters of the dodder. If we try to trace to their source these twisted stems, which the Creoles know as “angels’ hair,” we discover that they are fastened to the bark of the shrub or plant about which they are twining by means of small suckers; but nowhere can we find any connection with the earth, all their nourishment being extracted from the plant to which they are adhering. Originally this curious herb sprang from the ground which succored it until it succeeded in attaching itself to some plant; having accomplished this it severed all connection with mother-earth by the withering away or snapping off of the stem below.
The flax-dodder, C. Epilinum, is a very injurious plant in European flax-fields. It has been sparingly introduced into this country with flax-seed.
Stem.—Climbing, somewhat woody. Leaves.—Opposite, three-divided. Flowers.—Whitish, in clusters, unisexual. Calyx.—Of four petal-like sepals. Corolla.—None. Stamens and Pistils.—Indefinite in number, occurring on different plants.
In July and August this beautiful plant, covered with its white blossoms and clambering over the shrubs which border the country lanes, makes indeed a fitting bower for any maid or traveller who may chance to be seeking shelter. Later in the year the seeds with their silvery plumes give a feathery effect which is very striking.
PLATE XXXI
TRAVELLER’S JOY.—Clematis Virginiana.
This graceful climber works its way by means of its bending or clasping leaf-stalks. Darwin has made interesting experiments regarding the movements of the young shoots of the Clematis. He discovered that, “one revolved describing a broad oval, in five hours, thirty minutes; and another in six hours, twelve minutes; they follow the course of the sun.”
A shrub from three to ten feet high. Leaves.—Alternate, ovate, sharply toothed. Flowers.—White, growing in clustered finger-like racemes. Calyx.—Of five sepals. Corolla.—Of five oblong petals. Stamens.—Ten, protruding. Pistil.—One, three-cleft at apex.
Nearly all our flowering shrubs are past their glory by midsummer, when the fragrant blossoms of the sweet pepperbush begin to exhale their perfume from the cool thickets which line the lanes along the New England coast. There is a certain luxuriance in the vegetation of this part of the country in August which is generally lacking farther inland, where the fairer flowers have passed away, and the country begins to show the effects of the long days of heat and drought. The moisture of the air, and the peculiar character of the soil near the sea, are responsible for the freshness and beauty of many of the late flowers which we find in such a locality.
Clethra is the ancient Greek name for the alder, which this plant somewhat resembles in foliage.
Stem.—Smooth and branching. Leaves.—Ovate, wavy-toothed or angled. Flowers.—White, large and showy, on short flower-stalks from the forks of the branching stem. Calyx.—Five-toothed. Corolla.—Funnel-form, the border five-toothed. Stamens.—Five. Pistil.—One. Fruit.—Green, globular, prickly.
The showy white flowers of the thorn-apple are found in waste places during the summer and autumn, a heap of rubbish forming their usual unattractive background. The plant is a rank, ill-scented one, which was introduced into our country from Asia. It was so associated with civilization as to be called the “white man’s plant” by the Indians.
Its purple-flowered relative, D. Tatula, is an emigrant from the tropics. This genus possesses narcotic-poisonous properties.
Stem.—Climbing, nearly smooth, with three-forked tendrils. Leaves.—Deeply and sharply five-lobed. Flowers.—Numerous, small, greenish-white, unisexual; the staminate ones growing in long racemes, the pistillate ones in small clusters or solitary. Fruit.—Fleshy, oval, green, about two inches long, clothed with weak prickles.
This is an ornamental climber which is found bearing its flowers and fruit at the same time. It grows in rich soil along rivers in parts of New England, Pennsylvania, and westward; and is often cultivated in gardens, making an effective arbor-vine. The generic name is from two Greek words which signify hedgehog and bladder, in reference to the prickly fruit.
Flower-heads.—Composed of white ray-flowers with a centre of yellow disk-flowers.
While we have far fewer species of white than of blue or purple asters, some of these few are so abundant in individuals as to hold their own fairly well against their bright-hued rivals.
The slender zigzag stems, thin, coarsely toothed, heart-shaped leaves, and white, loosely clustered flower-heads of A. corymbosus, are noticeable along the shaded roadsides and in the open woods of August.
Bordering the dry fields at this same season are the spreading wand-like branches, thickly covered with the tiny flower-heads as with snowflakes, of A. ericoides.
A. umbellatus is the tall white aster of the swamps and moist thickets. It sometimes reaches a height of seven feet, and can be identified by its long tapering leaves and large, flat flower-clusters.
A beautiful and abundant seaside species is A. multiflorus. Its small flower-heads are closely crowded on the low, bushy, spreading branches; its leaves are narrow, rigid, crowded, and somewhat hoary. The whole effect of the plant is heath-like; it also somewhat suggests an evergreen.
Stem.—Stout and hairy, two to four feet high. Leaves.—Opposite, widely spreading, lance-shaped, united at the base around the stem. Flower-heads.—Dull white, small, composed entirely of tubular blossoms borne in large clusters.
To one whose childhood was passed in the country some fifty years ago the name or sight of this plant is fraught with unpleasant memories. The attic or wood-shed was hung with bunches of the dried herb which served as so many grewsome warnings against wet feet, or any over-exposure which might result in cold or malaria. A certain Nemesis, in the shape of a nauseous draught which was poured down the throat under the name of “boneset tea,” attended such a catastrophe. The Indians first discovered its virtues, and named the plant ague-weed. Possibly this is one of the few herbs whose efficacy has not been over-rated. Dr. Millspaugh says: “It is prominently adapted to cure a disease peculiar to the South, known as break-bone fever (Dengue), and it is without doubt from this property that the name boneset was derived.”
About three feet high. Stem.—Smooth and branching. Leaves.—Opposite, long-stalked, broadly ovate, coarsely and sharply toothed. Flower-heads.—White, clustered, composed of tubular blossoms.
Although this species is less common than boneset, it is frequently found blossoming in the rich Northern woods of late summer.