PLATE XLIV
BUSH-HONEYSUCKLE.—D. trifida.
This pretty little shrub is found along our rocky hills and mountains. The blossoms appear in early summer, and form a good example of nectar-bearing flowers. The lower lobe of the corolla is crested and more deeply colored than the others, thus advising the bee of secreted treasure. The hairy filaments of the stamens are so placed as to protect the nectar from injury by rain. When the blossom has been despoiled and at the same time fertilized, for the nectar-seeking bee has probably deposited some pollen upon its pistil, the color of the corolla changes from a pale to a deep yellow, thus giving warning to the insect world that further attentions would be useless to both parties.
Stem.—Low, erect, branching. Leaves.—Opposite, lance-shaped. Flowers.—Small, greenish-yellow, solitary in the axils of the upper leaves. Calyx.—Bell-shaped, four-cleft. Corolla.—Two-lipped, upper lip arched, lower three-lobed and spreading at the apex. Stamens.—Four. Pistil.—One.
In the open woods, from June until September, we encounter the pale yellow flowers of this rather insignificant little plant. The cow wheat was formerly cultivated by the Dutch as food for cattle. The Spanish name, Trigo de Vaca, would seem to indicate a similar custom in Spain. The generic name, Melampyrum, is from the Greek, and signifies black wheat, in reference to the appearance of the seeds of some species when mixed with grain. The flower would not be likely to attract one’s attention were it not exceedingly common in some parts of the country, flourishing especially in our more eastern woodlands.
Stem.—Two to five feet high. Leaves.—Whorled, lance-shaped. Flowers.—Yellow, spotted with reddish-brown, bell-shaped, two to three inches long. Perianth.—Of six recurved sepals, with a nectar-bearing furrow at their base. Stamens.—Six, with anthers loaded with brown pollen. Pistil.—One, with a three-lobed stigma.
What does the summer bring which is more enchanting than a sequestered wood-bordered meadow hung with a thousand of these delicate, nodding bells which look as though ready to tinkle at the least disturbance and sound an alarum among the flowers?
PLATE XLV
MEADOW LILY.—L. Canadense.
These too are true “lilies of the field,” less gorgeous, less imposing than the Turks’ caps, but with an unsurpassed grace and charm of their own. “Fairy-caps,” these pointed blossoms are sometimes called; “witch-caps,” would be more appropriate still. Indeed they would make dainty headgear for any of the dim inhabitants of Wonder-Land.
The growth of this plant is very striking when seen at its best. The erect stem is surrounded with regular whorls of leaves, from the upper one of which curves a circle of long-stemmed, nodding flowers. They suggest an exquisite design for a church candelabra.
Flowers.—Yellow, large, two and a half to three and a half inches across. Calyx.—Of numerous sepals. Corolla.—Of ten or twelve petals. Stamens.—Numerous. Pistil.—One, with numerous stigmas. Fruit.—Shaped like a small pear, often with prickles over its surface.
This curious-looking plant is one of the only two representatives of the Cactus family in the Northeastern States. It has deep green, fleshy, prickly, rounded joints and large yellow flowers, which are often conspicuous in summer in dry, sandy places along the coast.
O. vulgaris, the only other species found in Northeastern America, has somewhat smaller flowers, but otherwise so closely resembles O. Rafinesquii as to make it difficult to distinguish between the two.
Stem.—Slender, one or two feet high. Leaves.—Narrowly oblong, whorled in fours, fives, or sixes. Flowers.—Yellow, spotted or streaked with red, on slender, hair-like flower-stalks from the axils of the leaves. Calyx.—Five or six-parted. Corolla.—Very deeply five or six-parted. Stamens.—Four or five. Pistil.—One.
PLATE XLVI
FOUR-LEAVED LOOSESTRIFE.—L. quadrifolia.
This slender pretty plant grows along the roadsides and attracts one’s notice in June by its regular whorls of leaves and flowers. Linnæus says that this genus is named after Lysimachus, King of Sicily. Loosestrife is the English for Lysimachus; but whether the ancient superstition that the placing of these flowers upon the yokes of oxen rendered the beasts gentle and submissive arose from the peace-suggestive title or from other causes, I cannot discover.
The yellow loosestrife bears its flowers, which are similar to those of L. quadrifolia, in a terminal raceme; it has opposite lance-shaped leaves. Its bright yellow clusters border the streams and brighten the marshes from June till August.
About one foot high. Leaves.—Set close to the stem, simple, lance-oblong. Flowers.—Of two kinds: the earlier, more noticeable ones, yellow, solitary, about one inch across; the later ones small and clustered, usually without petals. Calyx.—(Of the petal-bearing flowers) of five sepals. Corolla.—Of five early falling petals which are crumpled in the bud. Stamens.—Numerous. Pistil.—One, with a three-lobed stigma.
These fragile bright yellow flowers are found in gravelly places in early summer. Under the influence of the sunshine they open once; by the next day their petals have fallen, and their brief beauty is a thing of the past. On June 17th Thoreau finds this “broad, cup-like flower, one of the most delicate yellow flowers, with large spring-yellow petals, and its stamens laid one way.”
In the Vale of Sharon a nearly allied rose-colored species abounds. This is believed by some of the botanists who have travelled in that region to be the Rose of Sharon which Solomon has celebrated.
The name of frost-weed has been given to our plant because of the crystals of ice which shoot from the cracked bark at the base of the stem in late autumn.
PLATE XLVII
YELLOW LOOSESTRIFE.—L. stricta.
Stem.—Erect, two to four feet high. Leaves.—Opposite, narrowly oval, on fringed leaf-stalks. Flowers.—Yellow, on slender stalks from the axils of the leaves. Calyx.—Deeply five-parted. Corolla.—Deeply five-lobed, wheel-shaped, yellow, with a reddish centre. Stamens.—Five. Pistil.—One.
This plant is nearly akin to the yellow loosestrifes, but unfortunately it has no English name. It abounds in low grounds and thickets, putting forth its bright wheel-shaped blossoms early in July.
A shrub. Leaves.—Oblong, toothed, in clusters from the axil of a thorn. Flowers.—Yellow, in drooping racemes. Calyx.—Of six sepals, with from two to six bractlets without. Corolla.—Of six petals. Stamens.—Six. Pistil.—One. Fruit.—An oblong scarlet berry.
This European shrub has now become thoroughly wild and very plentiful in parts of New England. The drooping yellow flowers of May and June are less noticeable than the oblong clustered berries of September, which light up so many overgrown lanes, and often decorate our lawns and gardens as well.
The ancients extracted a yellow hair-dye from the barberry; and to-day it is used to impart a yellow color to wool. Both its common and botanical names are of Arabic origin.
Scapes.—Slender, few-flowered. Leaves.—Linear, grass-like, hairy. Flowers.—Yellow. Perianth.—Six-parted, spreading, the divisions hairy and greenish outside, yellow within. Stamens.—Six. Pistil.—One.
When our eyes fall upon what looks like a bit of evening sky set with golden stars, but which proves to be only a piece of shaded turf gleaming with these pretty flowers, we recall Longfellow’s musical lines:
The plant grows abundantly in open woods and meadows, flowering in early summer.
PLATE XLVIII
YELLOW STAR-GRASS.—H. erecta.
Two or three feet high. Stems.—Smooth and slender. Leaves.—Divided into three rounded leaflets, somewhat pale with a whitish bloom, turning black in drying. Flowers.—Papilionaceous, yellow, clustered in many short, loose racemes.
This rather bushy-looking, bright-flowered plant is constantly encountered in our rambles throughout the somewhat dry and sandy parts of the country in midsummer. It is said that it is found in nearly every State in the Union, and that it has been used as a homœopathic remedy for typhoid fever. Its young shoots are eaten at times in place of asparagus. Both the botanical and common names refer to its having yielded an economical but unsuccessful substitute for indigo.
Six to twelve inches high. Leaves.—Divided into three oblong leaflets. Flowers.—Papilionaceous, yellow, small, in close heads.
Although this little plant is found in such abundance along our New England roadsides and in many other parts of the country as well, comparatively few people seem to recognize it as a member of the clover group, despite a marked likeness in the leaves and blossoms to others of the same family.
The name clover probably originated in the Latin clava-clubs, in reference to the fancied resemblance between the three-pronged club of Hercules and the clover leaf. The clubs of our playing-cards and the trèfle (trefoil) of the French are probably an imitation of the same leaf.
The nonesuch, Medicago lupulina, with downy, procumbent stems, and flowers which grow in short spikes, is nearly allied to the hop clover. In its reputed superiority as fodder its English name is said to have originated. Dr. Prior says that for many years this plant has been recognized in Ireland as the true shamrock.
A shrubby plant from one to two feet high. Leaves.—Lance-shaped. Flowers.—Papilionaceous, yellow, growing in spiked racemes.
This is another foreigner which has established itself in Eastern New York and Massachusetts, where it covers the barren hill-sides with its yellow flowers in early summer. It is a common English plant, formerly valued for the yellow dye which it yielded. It is an undesirable intruder in pasture-lands, as it gives a bitter taste to the milk of cows which feed upon it.
Two to four feet high. Stem.—Upright. Leaves.—Divided into three toothed leaflets. Flowers.—Papilionaceous, yellow, growing in spike-like racemes.
This plant is often found blossoming along the roadsides in early summer. It was formerly called in England “king’s-clover,” because, as Parkinson writes, “the yellowe flowers doe crown the top of the stalkes.” The leaves become fragrant in drying.
Stem.—Hairy, three to six inches high. Leaves.—Undivided, oval or lance-shaped. Flowers.—Papilionaceous, yellow, but few in a cluster. Pod.—Inflated, many-seeded, blackish.
The yellow flowers of the rattlebox are found in the sandy meadows and along the roadsides during the summer. Both the generic and English names refer to the rattling of the loose seeds within the inflated pod.
Stem.—Smooth, erect, one to three feet high. Leaves.—Alternate, linear or nearly so. Flowers.—Of two shades of yellow, growing in terminal racemes. Calyx.—Five-parted. Corolla.—Pale yellow tipped with orange, long-spurred, two-lipped, closed in the throat. Stamens.—Four. Pistil.—One.
The bright blossoms of butter-and-eggs grow in full, close clusters which enliven the waste places along the roadside so commonly, that little attention is paid to these beautiful and conspicuous flowers. They would be considered a “pest” if they did not display great discrimination in their choice of locality, usually selecting otherwise useless pieces of ground. The common name of butter-and-eggs is unusually appropriate, for the two shades of yellow match perfectly their namesakes. Like nearly all our common weeds, this plant has been utilized in various ways by the country people. It yielded what was considered at one time a valuable skin lotion, while its juice mingled with milk constitutes a fly-poison. Its generic name, Linaria, and its English title, toadflax, arose from a fancied resemblance between its leaves and those of the flax.
Stem.—Three or four feet high. Leaves.—Divided into from six to nine pairs of narrowly oblong leaflets. Flowers.—Yellow, in short clusters from the axils of the leaves. Calyx.—Of five sepals. Corolla.—Of five slightly unequal, spreading petals, usually somewhat spotted with reddish-brown. Stamens.—Five to ten, unequal, some of them often imperfect. Pistil.—One. Pod.—Long and narrow, slightly curved, flat.
This tall, striking plant, with clusters of yellow flowers which appear in midsummer, grows abundantly along many of the New England roadsides, and also far south and west, thriving best in sandy soil. Although a member of the Pulse family its blossoms are not papilionaceous.
PLATE XLIX
BUTTER-AND-EGGS.—L. vulgaris.
Stems.—Spreading, eight inches to a foot long. Leaves.—Divided into from ten to fifteen pairs of narrow delicate leaflets, which close at night and are somewhat sensitive to the touch. Flowers.—Yellow, rather large and showy, on slender stalks beneath the spreading leaves; not papilionaceous. Calyx.—Of five sepals. Corolla.—Of five rounded, spreading, somewhat unequal petals, two or three of which are usually spotted at the base with red or purple. Stamens.—Ten, unequal, dissimilar. Pistil.—One, with a slender style. Pod.—Flat.
The partridge-pea is closely related to the wild senna, and a pretty, delicate plant it is, with graceful foliage, and flowers in late summer which surprise us with their size, abounding in gravelly, sandy places where little else will flourish, brightening the railway embankments and the road’s edge. It is at home all over the country south of Massachusetts and east of the Rocky Mountains, but it grows with a greater vigor and luxuriance in the south than elsewhere. The leaves can hardly be called sensitive to the touch, yet when a branch is snapped from the parent-stem or is much handled, the delicate leaflets will droop and fold, displaying their curious mechanism.
Stem.—Much branched. Leaves.—Small, opposite, somewhat oblong, with pellucid dots. Flowers.—Yellow, numerous, in leafy clusters. Calyx.—Of five sepals. Corolla.—Of five bright yellow petals, somewhat spotted with black. Stamens.—Indefinite in number. Pistil.—One, with three spreading styles.
“Too well known as a pernicious weed which it is difficult to extirpate,” is the scornful notice which the botany gives to this plant whose bright yellow flowers are noticeable in waste fields and along roadsides nearly all summer. Its rank, rapid growth proves very exhausting to the soil, and every New England farmer wishes it had remained where it rightfully belongs—on the other side of the water.
PLATE L
COMMON ST. JOHN’S-WORT.—H. perforatum.
Perhaps more superstitions have clustered about the St. John’s-wort than about any other plant on record. It was formerly gathered on St. John’s eve, and was hung at the doors and windows as a safeguard against thunder and evil spirits. A belief prevailed that on this night the soul had power to leave the body and visit the spot where it would be finally summoned from its earthly habitation, hence the all-night vigils which were observed at that time.
is the St. John’s-wort, and the maiden’s fate is favorably forecast by the healthy growth and successful blossoming of the plant which she has accepted as typical of her future.
In early times poets and physicians alike extolled its properties. An ointment was made of its blossoms, and one of its early names was “balm-of-the-warrior’s-wound.” It was considered so efficacious a remedy for melancholia that it was termed “fuga dæmonum.” Very possibly this name gave rise to the general idea that it was powerful in dispelling evil spirits.
Stem.—Low, branched. Leaves.—Opposite, narrowly oblong, black-dotted. Flowers.—Light-yellow. Calyx.—Of four sepals, the two outer broad and leaf-like, the inner much smaller. Corolla.—Of four narrowly oblong petals. Stamens.—Numerous. Pistil.—One, with two short styles.
From July till September these flowers may be found in the pine-barrens of New Jersey and farther south and westward, and on the island of Nantucket as well.
Stem.—Tall and stout, from three to five feet high. Leaves.—Oblong, woolly. Flowers.—In a long dense spike. Calyx.—Five-parted. Corolla.—Yellow, with five slightly unequal rounded lobes. Stamens.—Ten, the three upper with white wool on their filaments. Pistil.—One.
PLATE LI
COMMON MULLEIN.—V. Thapsus.
The common mullein is a native of the island of Thapsos, from which it takes its specific name. It was probably brought to this country from Europe by the early colonists, notwithstanding the title of “American velvet plant,” which it is rumored to bear in England. The Romans called it “candelaria,” from their custom of dipping the long dried stalk in suet and using it as a funeral torch, and the Greeks utilized the leaves for lamp-wicks. In more modern times they have served as a remedy for the pulmonary complaints of men and beasts alike, “mullein tea” being greatly esteemed by country people. Its especial efficacy with cattle has earned the plant its name of “bullocks’ lungwort.”
A low rosette of woolly leaves is all that can be seen of the mullein during its first year, the yellow blossoms on their long spikes opening sluggishly about the middle of the second summer. It abounds throughout our dry, rolling meadows, and its tall spires are a familiar feature in the summer landscape.
Stem.—Tall and slender. Leaves.—Oblong, toothed, the lower sometimes lyre-shaped, the upper partly clasping. Flowers.—Yellow or white, tinged with red or purple, in a terminal raceme. Calyx.—Deeply five-parted. Corolla.—Butterfly-shape, of five rounded, somewhat unequal lobes. Stamens.—Five, with filaments bearded with violet wool and anthers loaded with orange-colored pollen. Pistil.—One.
Along the highway from July till October one encounters a slender weed on whose erect stem it would seem as though a number of canary-yellow or purplish-white moths had alighted for a moment’s rest. These are the fragile, pretty flowers of the moth mullein, and they are worthy of a closer examination. The reddened or purplish centre of the corolla suggests the probability of hidden nectar, while the pretty tufts of violet wool borne by the stamens are well fitted to protect it from the rain. A little experience of the canny ways of these innocent-looking flowers lead one to ask the wherefore of every new feature.
Stem.—Leafy, one to two feet high. Leaves.—The lower oblong to lance-shaped, the upper passing into pointed bracts. Flowers.—Deep orange color, with a slender spur and deeply fringed lip; growing in an oblong spike.
PLATE LII
YELLOW FRINGED ORCHIS.—H. ciliaris.
Years may pass without our meeting this the most brilliant of our orchids. Suddenly one August day we will chance upon just such a boggy meadow as we have searched in vain a hundred times, and will behold myriads of its deep orange, dome-like spires erecting themselves in radiant beauty over whole acres of land. The separate flowers, with their long spurs and deeply fringed lips, will repay a close examination. They are well calculated, massed in such brilliant clusters, to arrest the attention of whatever insects may specially affect them. Although I have watched many of these plants I have never seen an insect visit one, and am inclined to think that they are fertilized by night moths.
Mr. Baldwin declares: “If I ever write a romance of Indian life, my dusky heroine, Birch Tree or Trembling Fawn, shall meet her lover with a wreath of this orchis on her head.”
Flowers.—Pale yellow, somewhat spotted with reddish-brown; common northward.
Flowers.—Orange-yellow, spotted with reddish-brown; common southward.
Two to six feet high. Leaves.—Alternate, coarsely toothed, oval. Flowers.—Nodding, loosely clustered, or growing from the axils of the leaves. Calyx and Corolla.—Colored alike, and difficult to distinguish; of six pieces, the largest one extended backward into a deep sac ending in a little spur, the two innermost unequally two-lobed. Stamens.—Five, very short, united over the pistil. Pistil.—One.
These beautiful plants are found along shaded streams and marshes, and are profusely hung with brilliant jewel-like flowers during the summer months. In the later year they bear those closed inconspicuous blossoms which fertilize in the bud and are called cleistogamous flowers. The jewel-weed has begun to appear along the English rivers, and it is said that the ordinary showy blossoms are comparatively rare, while the cleistogamous ones abound. Does not this look almost like a determination on the part of the plant to secure a firm foothold in its new environment before expending its energy on flowers which, though radiant and attractive, are quite dependent on insect-visitors for fertilization and perpetuation?
PLATE LIII
PALE JEWEL-WEED.—I. pallida.
The name touch-me-not refers to the seed-pods, which burst open with such violence when touched, as to project their seeds to a comparatively great distance. This ingenious mechanism secures the dispersion of the seeds without the aid of the wind or animals. In parts of New York the plant is called “silver-leaf,” from its silvery appearance when touched with rain or dew, or when held beneath the water.
One or two feet high. Leaves.—Divided into several coarsely toothed leaflets. Flowers.—Small, yellow, in slender spiked racemes. Calyx.—Five-cleft, beset with hooked teeth. Corolla.—Of five petals. Stamens.—Five to fifteen. Pistils.—One to four.
The slender yellow racemes of the agrimony skirt the woods throughout the later summer. In former times the plant was held in high esteem by town physician and country herbalist alike. Emerson longed to know
Up to a recent date the plant has been dried and preserved by country people and might be seen exposed for sale in the shops of French villages. It has also been utilized in a dressing for shoe-leather. When about to flower it yields a pale yellow dye.
Chaucer calls it egremoine. The name is supposed to be derived from the Greek title for an eye-disease, for which the juice of a plant similarly entitled was considered efficacious. The crushed flower yields a lemon-like odor.
Stem.—Erect. Leaves.—Divided into three delicate clover-like leaflets. Flowers.—Golden-yellow. Calyx.—Of five sepals. Corolla.—Of five petals. Stamens.—Ten. Pistil.—One, with five styles.
All summer the small flowers of the yellow wood sorrel show brightly against their background of delicate leaves. The plant varies greatly in its height and manner of growth, flourishing abundantly along the roadsides. The small leaflets are open to the genial influence of sun and air during the hours of daylight, but at night they protect themselves from chill by folding one against another.
This is a day-blooming species of the evening primrose, with large, pale yellow blossoms and alternate oblong or narrowly lance-shaped leaves, and of a much less rank habit. In early summer our roadsides are illuminated with these flowers.
Œnothera pumila is also a diurnal species. Its loosely spiked blossoms are much smaller than those of the sundrops.
Stout, erect, one to five feet high. Leaves.—Alternate, lance-shaped to oblong. Flowers.—Pale yellow, in a leafy spike, opening at night. Calyx.—With a long tube, four-lobed. Corolla.—Of four somewhat heart-shaped petals. Stamens.—Eight, with long anthers. Pistil.—One, with a stigma divided into four linear lobes.
Along the roadsides in midsummer we notice a tall, rank-growing plant, which seems chiefly to bear buds and faded blossoms. And unless we are already familiar with the owl-like tendencies of the evening primrose, we are surprised, some dim twilight, to find this same plant resplendent with a mass of fragile yellow flowers, which are exhaling their faint delicious fragrance on the evening air.
One brief summer night exhausts the vitality of these delicate blossoms. The faded petals of the following day might serve as a text for a homily against all-night dissipation, did we not know that by its strange habit the evening primrose guards against the depredations of those myriad insects abroad during the day, which are unfitted to transmit its pollen to the pistil of another flower.
We are impressed by the utilitarianism in vogue in this floral world, as we note that the pale yellow of these blossoms gleams so vividly through the darkness as to advertise effectively their whereabouts, while their fragrance serves as a mute invitation to the pink night-moth, which is their visitor and benefactor. Why they change their habits in the late year and remain open during the day, I have not been able to discover.
One to three feet high. Leaves.—Opposite, large, ovate, toothed, pointed. Flowers.—Yellowish, lemon-scented, clustered loosely. Calyx.—Two-lipped, the upper lip three-toothed, the lower two-cleft. Corolla.—Elongated, somewhat two-lipped, the four upper lobes nearly equal, the lower large and long, toothed or fringed. Stamens.—Two (sometimes four, the upper pair shorter), protruding, diverging. Pistil.—One, with a two-lobed style.
In the damp rich woods of midsummer these strong-scented herbs, with their loose terminal clusters of lemon-colored, lemon-scented flowers are abundant. The plant was introduced into England by the amateur botanist and flower-lover, Collinson, after whom the species is named. The Indians formerly employed it as an application to wounds.
Stem.—Stout and hairy, one to two feet high. Leaves.—Rough and hairy, the upper long, narrow, set close to the stem; the lower broader, with leaf-stalks. Flower-heads.—Composed of both ray and disk-flowers; the former yellow, the latter brown and arranged on a cone-like receptacle.
By the middle of July our dry meadows are merry with black-eyed Susans, which are laughing from every corner and keeping up a gay midsummer carnival in company with the yellow lilies and brilliant milkweeds. They seem to revel in the long days of blazing sunlight, and are veritable salamanders among the flowers. Although now so common in our eastern fields they were first brought to us with clover-seed from the West, and are not altogether acceptable guests, as they bid fair to add another anxiety to the already harassed life of the New England farmer.
PLATE LIV
EVENING PRIMROSE.—Œ. biennis.
Two to seven feet high. Stem.—Smooth, branching. Leaves.—The lower divided into lobed leaflets, the upper irregularly three to five-parted. Flower-heads.—Yellow, rather large, composed of both ray and disk-flowers, the former drooping and yellow, the later dull greenish and arranged on a columnar receptacle.
This graceful, showy flower is even more decorative than the black-eyed Susan. Its drooping yellow rays are from one to two inches long. It may be found throughout the summer in the low thickets which border the swamps and meadows.
Stem.—Silky, with long weak hairs when young. Leaves.—Alternate, oblong. Flower-heads.—Golden-yellow, rather large, composed of both ray and disk-flowers.
In dry places along the roadsides of Southern New York and farther south, one can hardly fail to notice in late summer and autumn the bright clusters of the golden aster.
C. falcata is a species which may be found in dry sandy soil as far north as Massachusetts, with very woolly stems, crowded linear leaves, and small, clustered flower-heads.
Flower-heads.—Golden-yellow, composed of both ray and disk-flowers.
About eighty species of golden-rod are native to the United States: of these forty-two species can be found in our Northeastern States. Many of them are difficult of identification, and it would be useless to describe any but a few of the more conspicuous forms.
PLATE LV
BLACK-EYED SUSAN.—R. hirta.
A common and noticeable species which flowers early in August is S. Canadensis, with a tall stout stem from three to six feet high, lance-shaped leaves, which are usually sharply toothed and pointed, and small flower-heads clustered along the branches which spread from the upper part of the stem.
Another early flowering species is S. rugosa. This is a lower plant than S. Canadensis, with broader leaves. Still another is the dusty golden-rod, S. nemoralis, which has a hoary aspect and very bright yellow flowers which are common in dry fields.
S. lanceolata has lance-shaped or linear leaves, and flowers which grow in flat-topped clusters, unlike other members of the family; the information that this is a golden-rod often creates surprise, as for some strange reason it seems to be confused with the tansy.
The sweet golden-rod, S. odorata, is easily recognized by its fragrant, shining, dotted leaves. S. cæsia, or the blue-stemmed, is a wood-species and among the latest of the year, putting forth its bright clusters for nearly the whole length of its stem long after many of its brethren look like brown wraiths of their former selves. The silver rod, S. bicolor, whose whitish flowers are a departure from the family habit, also survives the early cold and holds its own in the dry woods.
The only species native to Great Britain is S. Virga-aurea.
The generic name is from two Greek words which signify to make whole, and refer to the healing properties which have been attributed to the genus.
Stem.—Stout, three to five feet high. Leaves.—Alternate, large, woolly beneath, the upper partly clasping. Flower-heads.—Yellow, large, composed of both ray and disk-flowers.
PLATE LVI
ELECAMPANE.—I. Helenium.
When we see these great yellow disks peeping over the pasture walls or flanking the country lanes, we feel that midsummer is at its height. Flowers are often subservient courtiers, and make acknowledgment of whatever debt they owe by that subtlest of flatteries—imitation. Did not the blossoms of the dawning year frequently wear the livery of the snow which had thrown its protecting mantle over their first efforts? And these newcomers—whose gross, rotund countenances so clearly betray the results of high living—do not they pay their respects to their great benefactor after the same fashion?—with the result that a myriad miniature suns shine upward from meadow and roadside.
The stout, mucilaginous root of this plant is valued by farmers as a horse-medicine, especially in epidemics of epizootic, one of its common names in England being horse-heal.
In ancient times the elecampane was considered an important stimulant to the human brain and stomach, and it was mentioned as such in the writings of Hippocrates, the “Father of Medicine,” over two thousand years ago.
The common name is supposed to be a corruption of ala campania, and refers to the frequent occurrence of the plant in that ancient province of Southern Italy.
Scape.—Five to fifteen inches high, branching. Leaves.—From the root, toothed or deeply incised. Flower-heads.—Yellow, composed entirely of strap-shaped flowers; smaller than those of the common dandelion.
From June till November we find the fall dandelion along the New England roadsides, as well as farther south. While the yellow flower-heads somewhat suggest small dandelions the general habit of the plant recalls some of the hawkweeds.
Stem.—Rough or hairy, from three to ten feet high, branched above. Leaves.—Lance-shaped, pointed, rough to the touch, set close to the stem. Flower-heads.—Yellow, composed of both ray and disk-flowers.