CORNELL
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

FROM

S.H.Burnhan

Summer ina bog.

Cornell University

Library

The original of this book is in
the Cornell University Library.

There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.

http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924000568380

SUMMER IN A BOG

By
KATHARINE DOORIS SHARP

STEWART & KIDD COMPANY
PUBLISHERS - - CINCINNATI

COPYRIGHT,
STEWART & KIDD COMPANY,
1913

All rights reserved.

Go Mily Husband

IN WHOSE COMPANIONSHIP, IN HIS PROFESSIONAL DRIVES
THROUGH THE COUNTRY, MY FIRST ACQUAINTANCE
WAS MADE WITH THE FLORA OF MADISON
COUNTY, OHIO, THIS LITTLE
BOOK IS INSCRIBED.

Contents.

SUMMER IN A Bos, - - 9
Grass OF PARNASSUS, - 51
Haunts OF THE FRINGED GENTIAN, - - 58
Lapy Moss-GRreeEn, - 58
SNAKES AND Boranizina, - . - - 61
Finpinc Parra, S e = “ z 69
ELDERBERRIES, - - - - - %
Topacco, - - - - - 76
Tue Woman Boranist, - - - - - (90)
Women Botanists or Ouio, - 97
An APPLICANT FOR ADMISSION TO “ BRITTON

AND Brown,” - ~ - - - - 115
Tue SEprTaRia, - - - - - 42119
Tue Story or THE DINICHTHYS, - - 125
Tue Passine or THE WILDWOOD, - - 129
Botanists oF OHIO, - - - 133

Some or Wortp’s Botanists, - - 138

Foreword.

Let me confess, at the very beginning, that I do not
know what is the accepted nature of a foreword. In this
instance it is the conviction which has come to me at
the very end of the work; for the following pages, com-
piled from the columns of periodicals in which most of
them appeared some years ago, seem to ask of their
author, “Is it worth while?”

It was in the company of my children that many of
the experiences here recorded took place. As the sturdy
lads tramped off into the woods and fishing-places of the
countryside, it became evident that we must have some
pursuit in common to hold us in sympathy.

Natural bent sent me to the company of the botanists.

Dear, delightful Asa Gray! The slighted knowledge
of schooldays was reviewed, and by a more appreciative
pupil. Not all at once, but little by little, the friendship
grew. To how many’ confidential, pleasant hours the
Earth has since admitted me, I can not count.

With Britton and Brown’s “Illustrated Flora of the
Northern United States and Canada” as authority, the
flora of Madison County, Ohio, has been mounted and
classified, so far as it has come within reach.

There is no ennui, no heavy time to kill, when all
around us secrets of Nature invite to revealment. Then,
secrets no longer, let us while away a little time in re-
cording them.

So, if anything is learned from these pages, if any
impulse in the right direction proceeds from them, or if
they furnish only the entertainment of an idle hour, they
are worth while.

That the reader may have full measure of the pleasure
and profit of the years’ work, I will conclude by revealing

7

8 FOREWORD.

a process discovered while experimenting in mounting
botanical specimens.

Do you like scrap-books, and to have at hand a paste
which never decays, which you can compound at will?
Such a paste, I know by many years of home use, is a
valuable household article, and here, for the first time, I
make it known:

One-half ounce of corrosive sublimate dissolved in one
pint of alcohol. This amount will last a long time for
home use, and should be kept tightly corked in a bottle
on which the label for poison, furnished by the drug
store, is pasted. This bottle should be kept by itself in
a place not likely to be disturbed.

About one tablespoonful of this solution—the amount
may be guessed at in pouring—stirred into a pint of well-
boiled flour starch will make a paste which will keep
indefinitely, unless exposed to air, when it will dry up.
The heat of summer will not sour or spoil it. Should it
freeze in winter, its quality remains unimpaired. When
used for paste, denatured alcohol may be supplied. No
metal should be brought in contact with the paste, as
corrosion will result.

K. D. §.

Summer in a Bog.

Tue cornfield sloped away from the road and
looked flourishing enough save at one point:
there a strip seemed given over to weeds and
black morass, to wild grasses and moss. Great
clusters of ulmaria blushed pink and enticing
through the early summer, followed by queen-
of-the-meadow, tall meadow-rue, and flat-top |
white aster, as the season waned.

“Tf I owned that cornfield, I’d drain it
better,’’ said the Doctor, critically, as we drove
past it one afternoon.

“<Tt ’s just like a strip of lovely flowered rib-
bon,’’ said I. ‘‘Here, stop and let me off. I ’ve
been intending to visit that bog for more than
a year, and I’ll do it now. It’s one of those
things which I neglect because they are so con-
veniently near. Drain that bog! Of course
they will!’’

Any other time the Doctor would have found
a dozen reasons why I should sit still and con-
tinue my ride, but my resolution came so sud-
denly that he had not time to formulate an
objection. So I was down on the road in a
jiffy, trowel and portfolio in hand.

9

10 SUMMER IN A BOG.

‘“< ‘Ribbon!’ ’’ he muttered, half aloud, as he
drove away. He may have thought I had dis-
covered a possible bargain counter in the mazes
of the weeds.

I may as well confess that he has very little
sympathy for these excursions into woods and
swamps. He has visions of snakes and other
possible terrors which, I am glad to say, rarely
enter my mind. His care and forethought are
appreciated, but sometimes disregarded.

Crawling through a wide space in the barred
fence, I found myself in a wilderness of weeds
almost as high as myself. Beating these to
right and left, an open spot was soon attained
where the decorations of the ‘‘ribbon’’ came to
view.

How the spirits rise at sight of new acqui-
sitions for a botanical collection! The crimson
swamp milk-weed is an old acquaintance,
worthy to adorn a garden. It marks the line
of moisture oozing from a hidden spring.

The hot August sun was half-way down the
Western sky and the light was excellent for
revealing the smaller undergrowth, which, in
subsequent morning visits, I found it hard to
discover. However, this is a favorite trick of
Nature, the apparent caprice of inexorable
laws. The moment was favorable.

The soil was black and, on the upper slopes,

SUMMER IN A BOG. 11

dry, the humps and tussocks furnishing a soft,*
if uneven, carpet to the feet. Here and there
were spots entirely bare of vegetation, sour
and barren, the mineral ingredients having
leached out in the persistent washings of the
springs, seeping up in holes and running in thin
threads of water through rusty-black borders
to the roots of the corn a few yards below.
Several rods further down the slope, Mink Run
crosses this young alluvial plain, which is be-
ing redeemed from its condition of a swamp
into the uses of agriculture as the finest corn
land—when, at times, treated with lime or pot-
ash and properly drained.

What is this odd, grass-like plant with tiny
barbs along the side, reminding of a fish-hook?
It is the arrow-grass, a new trophy; and near
it was another, the capillary beaked rush, which
seemed bent on taking the place of grass in
the burnt-looking soil.

A group of Indian grass on a dry slope
would have aroused the acquisitiveness of the
horticulturist, with its graceful, silvery plumes
gently swaying in the summer breeze. Nearby,
a huge block of stone partially buried in the
soil, lifted its sub-angular surface invitingly
for rest after the labors of digging speci-
mens among the matted root-stocks of the peaty

bog.

12 SUMMER IN A BOG.

There are many such stones scattered over
the fertile fields of Ohio in this latitude, stran-
gers brought from Northern lands so many
thousands of years ago, telling a story of by-
gone epochs in the earth’s mysterious forma-
tion.

Seated on this granite boulder, along the
horizon and near at hand I see lines and groups
of rounding hills, accumulations of sand,
boulders, clay, and gravel. Where these de-
posits are separate and in a measure distinct
and stratified, they are known as kames. Most
of the hills around me are composed of boulder
clay as a foundation, or mingled with gravel
and boulders.

On their sides are frequently gullies, the
loose soil washed away by tempests of ages,
the dead bones of them—the stones—exposed
and revolting. Where these hills are low and
lenticular, following each other in succession in
the trend of the valley drift, they are known
as drumlins. Sometimes, in woodland regions,
long, winding ridges of sand and gravel extend
for considerable distances, almost persuading
a belief that, cycles ago, the hand of man has
been at work erecting a dyke or, possibly, the
roadbed for a car line. This is an esker, and
Nature the only workman, aided by waves and
wind, by heat and cold.

SUMMER IN A BOG. 13

Near Springfield are many interesting de-
posits of this kind.

The hills of the terminal moraine abound in
springs, and often on the slopes a green area
will mark their presence. They feed the
streams and swamps below.

It is not often that the composition of these
hills is revealed in nature’s order; but in the
construction of the electric road, a slice cut
from the side of the highest point exposed
curious varieties of sand and gravel. A kame
had given its secret to the casual beholder.
In one place a broad vein of fine, dark sand,
without any earthy admixture, came to view.

How I longed to know more, to be able to
read the story of the past ages as this riven
old hill was telling it! At first sight I had
thought of the country as lacking in geological
features. The undulating hills are covered
with grass or woods. The smooth fields yield
rich crops to the farmer, or serve to pasture
his fine herds. But for geology?

Here are few outcropping strata to invite
the geologist’s investigation. When the builder
needs sand for the mortar, or the road-maker
gravel, these hills and vales are found, in places,
rich in these requisites. In the near future,
as the forests fail in their building supplies,
concrete may take their place, and then this

14 SUMMER IN A BOG.

sand and gravel will present its vast riches to
the needs of humanity. But how came they
here, and what is their story?

Sometimes the digger into the rich black
muck of an alluvial tract has unearthed the
skeleton of a mastodon, an extinct species whose
remains are found also in far Northern lati-
tudes.

Sometimes in the depths of the earth re-
mains of vast forests are brought to light and
give testimony.

To the geologist the story is a fascinating
one, telling of a time when the climate of all
this Northern world was warm, tropical even.
Of a cataclysm, or, possibly, some orderly,
natural force, which reversed the conditions
and, during cycles of time which may be only
guessed, sent at intervals of cycles the slow

progress of ice sheets and glacial currents far
down—as far as the 38th parallel of latitude—
toward the tropics.

Some winter night, when the mercury is
dropping to zero and below, when the flesh
shrinks and shivers in the unexpected blizzard,
let the fancy wander into the realms of possi-
bility and dream that another invasion of ice
has begun on earth.

The natural gas and the coal laid in for
winter use have been exhausted, but the cold

SUMMER IN A BOG. 15

does not diminish. There must be an exodus
from the home and the frozen North. Are the
avenues of travel blocked with ice? All the
hardships and fatalities of perpetual winter
must be faced or avoided. The tragedy of want
and frostbite—stop! Shake aside the phan-
tasm !

Last and youngest of the vast physical proc-
esses of the earth was the glacial ice-sheet
which rested here. With slow encroachment it
dragged its bulks over the land. In its peri-
odical congealments from year to year, the
loess—the flour ground from the rocks—with
the boulders, pebbles, and sand, were gathered
up in its progress and borne to this final ter-
minus.

Here the sun’s rays melted the ice masses,
and their freight of drift lies in the moraines
or is scattered over the fields, imbedded in the
alluvium of succeeding ages.

There is a glacier—Malaspina, at the foot
of Mt. St. Elias, on which sufficient material
has collected in places to sustain the growth of
a forest. Beneath this growth the glacial ice
is 1,000 feet deep.

A similar forest, but of greater extent, grow-
ing on ice is found in Siberia, in the region,
it is said, of the Okhotsk Sea. When boring
for a well in the vicinity of this forest, at a

16 SUMMER IN A BOG.

depth of 300 feet the ground was found to be
still frozen.

During the winter of 1912 it was reported
that a road on the line between Champaign
and Logan Counties had sunk out of sight, leav-
ing a lake behind, 160 feet in length and from
four to forty-four feet in depth. A bridge,
which disappeared at a previous time, was
found at a depth of twenty-four feet.

Those who bore for wells in this and neigh-
boring low lands, say that large bodies of water
lie in the ground. It is not impossible that the
cavities so existing were at one time occupied
by portions of the ancient ice-sheet.

It is well to remember that North America
was not alone in the vast operations of Nature

| which left these indubitable witnesses of her
/power. Over all Northern Asia and Europe
similar glacial changes were wrought.

‘“‘The Geological Progress of Twenty-five
Years,’’? by Lewis G. Westgate, Ph. D., of
Delaware, Ohio, has valuable information and
suggestions on this branch of investigation:

“‘These facts and values are suggestive only, but
they are sufficient to show that the ice age was a
very long and a very complex period, the successive
ice advances being separated by long inter-glacial
periods in which the climate may have been as mild
or milder than to-day; indeed, it is not certain that
we ourselves are not living in an inter-glacial period.

SUMMER IN A BOG. 17

‘‘Harlier glacial studies, proceeding on the theory
of a single ice age, placed together in many cases
events which we now know belong to different ice-
advances, but geologists have come to see that the
unravelling of the events of the Pleistocene means an
immense amount of detailed work, which will occupy
many years to come.”’

This strip of bog is just as it was after
the warmth of the sun had shone for how many
centuries we can only guess, breathing into
the alluvial deposits and setting the organic
life in motion. The persistent flow of water
from that black-rimmed spring has kept at bay
the advances of civilization. Not even the
strong hands which wrought the fine road I
have just left, the National Road, could con-
trol the tiny water vein.

“‘A fine old road!’’ I said to myself, stand-
ing up to look toward the West, and taking
in its smooth white line as it passed up the hill
and out of sight.

See, leaning toward the earth, half-hidden
by the luxuriant grass, an old mile-stone. Time
was when the traveler from Cumberland, in
Maryland, could journey. by stage along this
road to Indianapolis and keep tally of his dis-
tance by these records, then freshly cut and
upright. Many an illustrious traveler has gone
this way, not the least of whom was Lafayette,
in whose honor a village was named some five

2

18 SUMMER IN A BOG.

miles to the east. Somerford, in those days
a promising hostelry for rest and change of
horses, lies, a mile behind us, sleeping and
belated since the time that steam cars drew
the lifeblood from this route.

But hark! There is a rumble in the dis-
tance, and now a clear whistle announces a
halt for a car which is borne along that parallel
road by a power most wonderfully carried
through an overhead wire.

The name of Sydney H. Short, the inventor
of the electrical trolley car system, and a genius
in electricity, is recalled by the passing car.

Little did the men who planned this National
Road dream of any method of covering distance
more speedy than the horse. But we, having
seen steam harnessed and docile, and electricity
the public and domestic friend, look forward
with confidence to wings and the free highway
of the air.

With what wonderful poise and assurance
young Philip O. Parmalee passed from Dayton
to Columbus in his Wright bi-plane (November
8, 1910), bearing his trophy of silks to a
mercantile firm in Columbus! With what
ease he skimmed across the heavens and out
of sight, arriving with precision at his destina-
tion !

At the women’s ‘‘Thimble Parties”’ you will

SUMMER IN A BOG. 19

sometimes see a dainty silk work-bag, fashioned
from some ribbon of that cargo, passed from
hand to hand, while the incident is recorded
in the light of personal observation. With the
poet, they

‘Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of
magic sails,

Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with
costly bales.”’

This popular and gifted aviator lost his life
while flying in his aeroplane at North Yakima,
Washington, June 1, 1912. He is one of the
many whose lives are sacrificed in the fields of
air, endeavoring to add to man’s powers of
locomotion. The story thus far is tragical, yet
new names of new adventurers are not lacking,
and exhibitions of aviation are of every-day
occurrence. Who can say when regular lines
of aerial travel may be established?

But not yet, although the sleepy villages
are awaking and renewing their youth under
the influence of the electric roads and stations;
automobiles, too, for the farmers have caught
the spirit of*speed, and flash swiftly about the
country attending to their affairs.

We were speaking of the old National Road
and of its modern rivals. With all the recent

20 SUMMER IN A BOG.

innovations in competition, it can be truly said
that this highway is one of our best inheritances
from the fathers. Like all things true and
well-wrought, it will never cease to be a bless-
ing—if kept in repair.

All the while that my thoughts have been
wool-gathering my hands have not been idle.
A grass of the early spring, now withering on
its bank, proves: to be vanilla grass, or Holy
Grass. In Iceland it is used to scent rooms
and clothing. In Northern Europe this sweet-
scented grass is spread before the church door.
Does not that remind you of the ancient times,
when the earthen floors of dwellings and even
castles were covered with rushes, fresh every
day? Ah! bogs were very plentiful in those
days, before the invention of under-draining,
to make the supply of rushes hold out.

Here at my side, in the thick mire of this
sluggish stream, the greater bulrush is ready
for the work, if so please you. The spike-rush
and several varieties of sedge beautify the
waste.

But bogs are growing fewer yearly in Mad-
ison County, owing to the network of tiling in
the low fields and meadows. That way lies
health and wealth.

The tramp of hoofs on the hara road stops,
and a familiar voice calls to me—the rubber-

SUMMER IN A BOG. 21

tired wheels had given no sound. I gather up
an armful of spoils and make for the fence,
noting as I pass along the buds for later blos-
soms.

‘‘And what did you find on the ribbon coun-
ter?’’ asks the Doctor.

“The most wonderful bargains I ever saw!
To be had for the taking! Not less than a
dozen things here that I never saw before. And
more that I had not time to see. How I hate
to leave it; but I will come back soon. What
do you think I saw there? Buds for the fringed
gentian! What do you say to that?’’

He said nothing, and we bowled along si-
lently for some time.

An old man, straight and hale, came walk-
ing leisurely toward us. Heavy brows shaded
bright gray eyes, which regarded us kindly.

We drew up for a little conversation, and
the two men talked of the crops, markets, cattle,
—the usual grind. Taking advantage of a
pause:

‘““You don’t remember the building of this
road, I suppose?’’ I said.

‘‘Not quite. It was built along here about
the time I was born; that was in 1834, but
commenced in ’380. A good road, one of the
best in America. It was intended to reach
St. Louis, but I’m not sure that it was ever

22 SUMMER IN A BOG.

completed that far. The masons and stone-
cutters were French and German. The fore-
man of the gang was a Frenchman named
Vandelyne. He knew his business and saw to
it that the work was done right. Do you know
why there ’s such a lot of people poor?’’ He
turned his keen gray eyes to mine with a half
smile in their depths.

“Tt ’s half laziness and shirk and half ig-
norance. Poor people have poor ways and
plenty of them. Here—maybe I ought to ex-
plain what I mean better. I have all respect
for poverty. It is the virgin soil from which
every man and woman produces according to
labor and ability. Some get wealth and knowl-
edge, and some don’t. When I just spoke of
the poor I meant the ‘don’ts,’ the shiftless,
ignorant, dirty, lazy, self-satisfied people who
ought to be treated for the hook-worm to see
if it will help them any, as I hope it may.
They ’re the folks who retire to the city in
search of ‘a job’ and the aid of charity, leav-
ing us farmers to raise the crops the best we
can without proper help from farmhands.
Shirkers, every one of them!

‘‘But there was no shirk to Vandelyne.
Right up along the hills, there by your farm,
they put in not less than two years, I ’m told.
The limestone that the culverts and bridges

SUMMER IN A BOG. 23

were built from was brought from the quarries
near Columbus.’’

‘A notable piece of work, and a credit to
the builders!’’ said the Doctor.

“You may well say so! The stone was all
broke by hand for the bed, eighteen inches
deep. Heavy iron rollers pressed it into place.
The horses were specially shod. On top of the
broken stone was put gravel from which all
the fine sand and small pebbles had been sifted.
Then more rolling. They worked here in 36
and ’37, I think. ’T was finished in ’41.”’

“That ’s a fine piece of road this side of
Columbus—hbeats the old National. And say, a
chauffeur remarked that the road of the future
is to be paved with brick. What will the
farmers say to that?’’

The gray eyes smiled quizzically.

‘“‘Tt ’s so far in the future, I reckon it needs
no answer. It will keep till the time when the
land is divided up and each one has his share.”’
Then the old man chuckled knowingly.

‘‘The philosophers who sit in libraries or
loaf on street corners, talking about the division
of land and property, are not hankering for
the labor that goes with the acquisition and
care of those things. Bless you, no. But they
are dreaming of the division of ready-made
incomes, easy money to be plucked from the

24 SUMMER IN A BOG.

bushes. They are not practical. They want
none of the toil, but a huge slice of dividend.
Now, I know this: that not every man can be
a farmer by just owning land. It takes a lot
of practice and intelligence to produce good
crops. One big mistake the millionaires make
is bestowing all their endowments on colleges
to make scholars, lawyers, and such like. And
the cities likewise make generous provision for
the coddling of paupers. The country is left
to shift for itself the best it can. The homes
in the country are often poor excuses, with no
conveniences, no society, no amusements, no
anything compared with the towns. I don’t
wonder that the poor take to coddling and go
where they can get it. If the cost of living is
to be reduced, some of the indulgences, chari-
ties, instructions, benefits, and all that sort 0’
thing ’s got to be distributed around in the
rural districts.’’

The old gentleman made to push on, but the
Doctor had a remark yet to make.

“‘T notice young Wier is still at work in
his gravel bank. What is he doing? I have
been too busy to stop, but as you live out this
way—?”’

“You know his father bought that little
place (the house is back on the other road)
to try to recuperate his health, but ’t was no

SUMMER IN A BOG. 25

use. He faded away last March. We all
thought the son would move back to the city,
but it seems that he has set his heart on some
scheme he has in mind. He says he ’ll stick
to the farm for a spell longer. He doesn’t
say a word about his work in the sand, and
he doesn’t encourage loafers about his shed
back there ; and to tell you the truth, we farmers
are all a sight too busy about our own work
to meddle with his. We ’re like yourself as far
as time goes—it’s the scarcest article in the
market.’’

“*Good luck to him, whatever it is. There ’s
nothing like trying. Ill be glad to see these
old gravel beds turned to some account. They
do wash away if you try to farm ’em, that’s
sure. So long.’’

As we drove on, my mind was still busy with
the road, and when we took the way for home,
branching to the south, some newly mended
spots drew attention.

A fresh load of gravel on one of these roads
ean a tale unfold of deep interest to the geolo-
gist. As he scans the scratched or striated
surface of each pebble and piece of stone he
sees the record of a long and tedious journey;
and from the nature of the material he knows
from whence it was brought. Here is a frag-
ment of granite, this of greenstone, this of

26 SUMMER IN A BOG.

mica-slate, that of quartzite, all telling of an
origin in regions farther North.

There is a pasture-field among the hills
where the origin of streams is pleasingly exem-
plified in the birth of Mink Run. The slope is
gradual and the quantity of water. from the
water-sheds at no time so great as to deface
the verdant sod. A few springs add their
perennial product to form the shallow thread
of water which marks its course by the fresh
green line of water-cress and other herbage at
the base of the hill.

Here the little stream takes a turn and a
sudden change now appears. The hill, whose
western slope was gentle and clothed with ver-
dure, is cut into a deep chasm on its northern
face. A bit of forest has had time to grow
and rot, how many times over it is hard to tell,
since first the ice-sheet melted in the rays of
the sun. An opposite hill of almost precipitous
incline is lined with springs and swamps; fur-
ther on is a forest.

The slender thread of water courses through
a bed tortuous and deep. When the windows
of heaven are opened and the clouds pour out
their contents, this brook becomes a raging and
turbid torrent, carrying all before it. From
the steep riven hills the floods descend and
through the valley surges a small river.

SUMMER IN A BOG. 27

But with the cessation of the rain the waters
subside and the turbid brook sinks back into
its bed. Yet all the summer the springs con-
tinue to flow from the hillsides, feeding the
stream, where the waters shallowly murmur
to the stones or, leaping the rocks in cas-
cades, sing loud and cheeringly, unmindful of
drought.

Once in my wanderings, shortly after the
subsidence of such a freshet, I came to a level
tract of shining brown sands, through which
ran the stream of water. This place I had
heretofore avoided, after several attempts to
find solid footing. But something of daring
urged me to make one more trial.

It was the straight line in my progress;
otherwise, either to right or left, a hill I must
climb to find the sure pathway.

Would the sands bear me? The stream is
an easy jump, so narrow is it and so peace-
fully it glides along.

One foot I ventured boldly, and in a moment
the sand was up to my knee, with no sign of
foundation for the foot. Instantly I ‘threw
myself back on the grassy bank and was safe.
Had I escaped one of the quicksands of the
bog?

How many there may be I never attempted
to ascertain; but that there was another one
near a path which I always traveled in these

28 SUMMER IN A BOG.

swampy regions, I know, as it swallowed a ten-
foot fence rail without the least difficulty when
pushed in endwise.

All the common trees of the forest are here:
the ash, walnut, hickory, oak, elm, and maple,
each in its varieties, except the butternut, which
I have not seen thus far in this vicinity. The
fox-grape stretches its fertile stem from tree
to tree above the stream. A red mulberry show-
ers down its fruit in season. In one spot there
is a group of young trees recently dead, their
trunks clasped by a poison vine in flourishing
health.

At this point another stream from hills
farther north joins its waters to the first. The
forest has been cleared, but along the banks
the prickly ash, the lance-leaved buckthorn, the
wild plum, and the wahoo still grow. The little
shrub called New Jersey Tea (the leaves of
which were used by the soldiers of the Amer-
ican Revolution as a substitute for that tea
which was cast. into the ocean, to furnish a
beverage), also called the wild snowball, grows
along the fences of the upland. The red-bud
and the dogwood make the woods joyful in the
spring.

All about our feet the ground is laughing
in flowers. Violets, phlox, spring beauties,
anemones, hepaticas, in spring adorn the sod.

SUMMER IN A BOG. 29

On a rocky bank in June a bed of prairie
wild onions is very pretty; here and there the
star grass shines yellowly among the dead
leaves.

At one point, beside a steep bank, a group
of lizard’s-tail droops slender white flower-
spikes above the stream.

The blue-eyed grass rejoices in the damp
and sunny openings; the loosestrifes in several
varieties bear it company.

The monkey-flower wades out into the brook;
the conobea lingers at the edge, her feet laved
in the ripples.

The forget-me-not of the marshes, with
golden eye bordered in blue; the turtle-head
and hedge-hyssop, its neighbors; the Indian
paint-brush of the damp meadows nearby; the
dodder, twining its pale pink parasitic clusters
among the clover, its orange threads and cymes
in beds of mint, or its yellow, glomerate masses
amid the coarse weeds and bushes and the tall
stems of the sunflowers,—these are a few of
the floral denizens of the bog and its borders
and of the interlacing streams. ©

More rarely, on sunny slopes in a setting of
the most fertile soil the papaw basks and ripens
near the edge of the woods or on the banks
of rivers. The green leaves turn to gold as
the custard-apples ripen and lose their astrin-

30 SUMMER IN A BOG.

gence in a mellow and rich pulp under the touch
of advancing winter.

Speaking of the butternut reminds me of
the hills of Muskingum, where, as a little girl,
I gathered the nuts, where the beech tree flour-
ished and the trailing arbutus gladdened my
eyes. Does the stone fouridation of the hills
encourage the growth of these species? None
of them I have found in Madison County, save
as transplanted for ornamental purposes.

It was in a low Muskingum valley, near a
stream on the edge of a woods, yet where the
sun kissed them into ripeness, that in those
childhood wanderings I first saw a colony of
white blackberries. The fruit were not less
than an inch long by less than half an inch in
diameter, slightly amber in their whiteness
when ripe, but not so rich in flavor as some,
nor so acid as some blackberries. Perhaps they
bore the same comparison to their black relative
in flavor that the white mulberry does to the
red.

Come, we will follow the windings of Mink
Run, as it cuts the base of the next hill. Some
colonies of the scouring rash have taken root
down there. Mints of various kinds scent the
air as we crush them under foot.

But soon our progress is impeded by up-

SUMMER IN A BOG. 31

welling springs, and we are driven to seek
higher ground. The purple flags have pre-
empted this spot, coming close enough to solid
land to bestow a bouquet for our gathering in
the month of May.

Rushes and sedges of many beautiful kinds
are here, and water-cress where the stream
runs freely. Some day the town dweller will
discover the secret of this pungent herb and
add it to his regimen, as in the older hemi-
sphere.

Should we follow our little stream farther
down its course, until we come to a broad alu-
vial deposit, we will find it edged with the
yellow pond-lily or spatterdock. The water-
plantain, the cat-tail, the sagittaria, the bur-
reed, will not be absent; the fog-fruit in the
moist ditches, with many other plants which
love the water. We may catch a glimpse of the
great blue heron, extending like a slender line
above the trees, as it disappears from view.
The green heron flies noisily into the neighbor-
ing underbrush.

The kill-dee cries plaintively along the
meadow lands. The water-wagtail may be seen
in the recesses of the woods, where the stream
steals among the flat stones and pebbles. He
seems busy about something, a secret from all
but himself.

32 SUMMER IN A BOG.

In those portions of the swamp where the
water has gathered in pools and the cat-tail,
iris, and willow flourish, the red-winged black-
bird builds her nest. Itis a bulky mass of grass,
sedge, reed, and other herbage, lined with the
finest and softest grass to be found, hanging
among the straggling bushes and reeds or rest-
ing in the crotch of a low willow. It is always
concealed from view, but the loud protest,
threatening and shrill, which is raised when one
approaches, gives assurance that the visit is
unwelcome. As the intruder withdraws, the
satisfied birds utter the musical notes which
gives them with some the name of ‘‘Tit-willow,”’
with others, that of ‘‘Kongqueree.”’

The musk-rat is seen occasionally. The
mink is found more rarely in these regions, but
the name of the stream indicates that here was
a favorite resort of the little creature whose
beautiful fur has caused its decimation.

There is a ground-hog’s hole in a black bank.
The dark, heavy creature tumbles clumsily into
his den at times when I have wandered too
near, gathering the fragile fern or the violets
or the blue-eyed grass. There is, at times, good
reason to suspect the presence of the polecat in
the neighborhood.

It is a region of much floral loveliness, this
diversified hill-and-hollow of the moraine. The

SUMMER IN A BOG. 33

columbo, comandra, or bastard toad-flax, many
varieties of goldenrod, brauneria or purple
cone-flower, the superb lily, as also the Cana-
dense, are found mingling with the tall wild
grasses and sedges, with the numerous varieties
of the pea, aster, and sunflower families. The
wild hyacinth luxuriates in the black soil of the
shaded swamp.

In this wood huge white growths of the
giant puff-ball, weighing several pounds, have
been found in the autumn. Cut a slice from one
of them and angel-food cake is suggested by the
snowy, even surface. Fried in butter, broiled,
or stewed, it is good eating. The mycologist
finds this region full of rewards for the search,
for here, besides several varieties of the puff-
ball, are numerous varieties of the mushroom,
polypore, coral fungi, tremella, ete. There are
lichens of great beauty and many pleasing
mosses awaiting scientific identification.

Here are a few families and genera, samples
of the region’s flora:

Gramineze: Andropogon scoparius, A. furcatus; Chry-
sopogon avenaceus; Sorghum Halepense; Syntherisma san-
guinalis; Syntherisma filiformis; Panicum crus-galli; P.
agrostidiforme; P. Porterianum; P. macrocarpum; P.
pubescens; P. proliferum; P. capillare, P. flexile, P. minus,
P. rostratum, P. Variety capillare-campestris. Ixophorus
verticillatus, I. glaucus, I. viridis, I. Italicus. Homalo-
cenchrus Virginicus, H. oryzoides. Phalaris arundinacea,

3

34 SUMMER IN A BOG.

Savastana odorata; Muhlenbergia Mexicana, M. sylvatica,
M. tenuiflora, M. diffusa; Phleum pratense, Alopecurus
geniculatus; Sporobolus vaginzfiorus, S. heterolepis; Cinna
arundinacee; Agrostis alba; Danthonia spicata; Spartina
cynosurides; Ellusine Indica; Sieglingia seslerioides; Sie-
glingia stricta; Eragrostis capillaris, E. Frankii, E. Pur-
shii, E. eragrostis, E. major, E. hypnoides; Dactylis
glomerata; Poa annua, P. compressa, P. pratensis, P.
flava, P. alsodes; Panicularia nervata, P. Americana, P.
fluitans; Festuca elatior, F. nutans; Bromus inermis, B.
ciliatus, B. pubescens, B. asper, B. tectorum, B. race-
mosus, B. sterilis, B. hordeaceus, B. secalinus, B. uni-
oloides; Lolium perenne; Hordeum jubatum; Elymus Vir-
ginicus, E. Canadensis; Hystrix Hystrix.

Carex: OC. Louisianica, C. lupulina, C. hystricina, C.
squarrosa L, C. trichocarpa, C. Shortiana, C. lanuginosa,
C. filiformis, C. stricta, C. costellata, C. triceps, C. Cario-
liniana, C. gracillima, C. Davisii, C. grisea, C. glaucodea,
C. pallescens, C. oligocarpa, C. Meadii, C. laxiflora, C.
Pennsylvanica, C. varia, C. nigro-marginata, C. Willdenovii,
C. Jamesii, C. conjuncta, C. stipata, C. gravida, C. vul-
pinoides, C. setacea, C. Sartwellii, C. rosea, Variety C.
rosea, C. sparganioides, C. cephaloidea, C. cephalophora,
C. Leavenworthii, C. stellulata, C. interior, C. strilis, C.
arcta, C. siccata, C. Muskingumensis, C. scoparia, C.
foenea, C. cristatella, C. straminea, C. alata, C. Bicknellii.

Juncacez; Juncus bufonius, J. tenuis, J. Vaseyi, J.
Greenei, J. repens, J. nodosus, J. brachycephalus, J, Cana-
densis.

Cyperus: C. rivularis, C. rotundus, C. erythrorhizos,
C. strigosus, C. refractus, C. ovularis.

Stenophyllus capillaris.

Scripus: S. Americanus, 8. lacustris, S. atrovirens,
S. lineatus.

Rynchospora capillacea.

Eleocharis: Eleocharis Robbinsii, E, palustris, E, tenuis,
E, intermedia,

SUMMER IN A BOG. 35

Triglochin palustris.

Solidago: S. caesia, S. flexicaulis, S. rugosa, S. patula,
S. neglecta, S. juncea, S. serotina, S. Canadensis, 8S. nemo-
ralis, S. Radula, S. rigida, S. Riddellii, S. Uliginosa.

Aster: A. macrophyllus, A. Shortii, A. azureus, A.
cordifolius, A. Lowrieanus, A. Drummondii, A. alvearius,
A. sagittifolius, A. phlogifolius, A. Nove-Anglie, A.
puniceus, A. prenanthoides, A. laevis, A. junceus, A. longi-
folius, A. gracilis, A. dumosus, A. Tradescantii, A. eri-
coides, A. lateriflorus, A. lateriflorus diffusus, A. hir-
‘suticaulis, A. lateriflorus horizontalis, A. vimineus, A.
Tradescanti var, fragilis, A. ericoides var. villosus, A.
cordiofolius var. incisus, A. Lowrieanus-Bicknellii, A.
carmesinus.

Helianthus: H. scaberrimus, H. laevigatus, H. micro-
cephalus, H. gigantea, H. grosse-serratus, H. divaricatus,
H. decapetalus, H. tracheliifolius, H. strumosus, H. hir-
sutus, H. laetiflorus, H. tomentosus, H. tuberosus, etc.

One summer day, wandering through the
wood above the stream, I saw a peculiar white
growth bursting through the humus at the root
of a tall tree. No vegetation was around it, for
what with the meager light through the thick
foliage and the washing away of storms on the
prominent point of land, grass had but little
encouragement.

With the point of the trowel the growth was
carefully raised and examined. It consisted of
a cluster of white, drooping bells, each on a
straight, white, wax-like stalk. Small, alternate
ear-like leaves or bracts were pressed the whole
length of the glistening stem. It was a flower,

36 SUMMER IN A BOG.

perfect and regular, but new to me; and yet,
from botanical mention, I was not unprepared
to find it.

Between joy over its discovery, and as-
tonishment at its characteristics, a variety of
feelings awakened. Not a vestige of green
throughout! Cold, pallid, like the dead! What
uneanny thing of the dark earth is this?

How uniform is the track in which human
thought runs: for I found, in tracing the Indian
Pipe in the botany, that ‘‘corpse-flower,’’ ‘‘ice-
flower,’’ ‘‘ghost-flower,’’ are its common names.
Although termed a saprophyte or humus flower,
I found its roots imbedded in a nucleus of what
appeared to be grains of sand. Nor did it be-
come soft in decay, but held its solidity to the
last. But from white it turned black through-
out. A few days afterward I looked further
in the same locality, and found several more
clusters which had grown to maturity, the
scapes standing out of the ground to a height
of three or four inches. In this variety of the
Indian pipe but one flower terminates a scape.

The specimens which attract attention are
not always confined to the vegetable kingdom.
There is an interesting old party who frequents
the most sequestered woods in search of gin-
seng, the roots of which he sells profitably to

SUMMER IN A BOG. 37

the druggist and Chinese laundryman. He
knows its haunts and that of certain other
medicinal herbs. He is known as ‘‘Doc.’’
Probably he practices the healing art among a
choice circle of his humble friends. It is as the
vender of hazelnuts and ’seng that he stands
among my acquaintance.

He is somewhat below the average in height,
lean and wrinkled. His garments are faded to
the color of the dust, yet he has an air of self-
respect that wins confidence.

Driving out to the farm one morning, I
passed him on the road, then stopped and waited
till he caught up.

‘“‘Good day. Do you want a lift to rest your
tired feet?’’

“Thank y’, I don’t care ef I do,’’ and he
beamed a watery smile.

‘‘And how is the ginseng crop coming on?
Do you find much?”’

‘‘Not any more, I don’t. Hev’ to walk miles
and miles ’fore I find ’nuff to make it wu’th
while to go to the store. It’s gittin’ mighty
skeerce.”’

‘To you find any other plants that are good
in doctoring?’’

‘“‘Yes ’m. The’s golden seal, an’ spik, an’
sa’saparilla, an’ a hull passel 0’ truck. But I
tell ye what—there ain’t nothin’ comes up to

38 SUMMER IN A BOG.

burdock root for a gineral all-around tonic an’
blood medicine! Yes, ma’am! It’s the finest
thing on the whole skedgle. Burdock !—an’ take
the roots, spring or fall, an’ make yerself a good
bottle of bitters—the finest thing on the sked-
gle!’’

“‘There ’s plenty of it all about here, too.’’

‘Why, ther ’s nary a thing that grows but.
has its uses, ef ye jest knowd it. Here’s the
road where I turns off, an’ thank ye kindly fur
the lift.’’

My errand that day was to a tenant who
lived in a little frame house on the top of a hill.
The gate from the road stood open and I crossed
the shaky wooden planks spanning Mink Run.
At first the ascent was gradual. To the left the
fence was covered with wild grape vines and
the green bunches hung in profusion under the
sheltering leaves.

As the road ascended, on either hand gullies
in which lay great stones, called by some ‘‘nig-
ger-heads,’’ rendered the progress difficult. The
horse tugged, jerking the vehicle about in a
most disagreeable way over the irregularities.
But at length we reached the top.

I would n’t want to make that ascent fre-
quently. If I lived on the top of such a hill I
would be tempted to parodize the poet:

**Good-bye, proud world, I will stay at home.”’

SUMMER IN A BOG. 39

Nor would I plough up the thin soil of such
steep hills, to have it washed away in the rains.
Frurt trees flourish in localities of this sort,
and orchard grass will bind the sands, while
furnishing a luxuriant growth of herbage.
Gather the stones, which ill-advised ploughing
has brought to the top, and cast them into the
deep gullies on the hillsides; then coax a coat
of grass over the poor, denuded surface of the
hill. A few years of good crops will never com-
pensate for the stony desert which results from
continued ploughing.

The tenant had something to tell of a heifer
_ which had been ‘‘buckeyed.’’ The animal had
been experimenting with foodstuffs, evidently,
and had eaten too liberally of the Ohio buckeye,
which grows plentifully along the slopes of the
hills. At least this was his diagnosis of the
ailment which sent the beast moping to the
shade of the woods, where it remained, without
appetite, for a number of days, but finally re-
covered.

Returning, plodding steadily along on the
side of the road is a woman. She is short and
broad, dressed in a clean, faded gown of calico
which once was pink. It is carefully starched,
and sits out in stiff lines about her stout figure.
A gingham sunbonnet discreetly shades her

40 SUMMER IN A BOG.

eyes. On her arm she carries a white wicker
basket with a lid.

I recognize her as the housekeeper of a
wealthy old bachelor land-owner in the neigh-
borhood. Doubtless she counts on a lift in some
one’s vehicle to take her into town, so I decide
to be her good providence.

“‘Good day. Do n’t you want to ride? Go-
ing into town, I suppose?’’

“Thank ye. Don’t keer ’f Ido. This yere
basket hain’t so orful light. It ’s eggs. Takin’
’em inter town to sell ’em. An’ I reckon on
payin’ my doctor bill, too. My! It do seem
good to be around oncet again.’’

‘‘Been sick?’’ She is so fat and rosy, it is
hard to associate her with a sick-bed. She is
still breathing laboredly after the exertion of
climbing in. She takes time to recover her
proper articulation.

‘‘My shoulder an’ ribs. Hain’t sure as any
bones was broke, but I got all pounded an’ sore.
It were a narrer escape.’’

‘“How did it happen?”’

‘‘Hain’t you heerd?’’ Her voice had a note
of shrill astonishment. ‘‘Well, ’t was this-a-
way: I was a-takin’ a short cut acrost the
field, fur I wus in a hurry an’ never thought o’
noticin’ nothink, when the old man run me an’
knocked me down. I had clear forgot the old
man, I had.’’

SUMMER IN A BOG. 41

‘*He run you!”’

‘*Yes; an’ I run jest as hard ez I could to
git away, but jest as I clumb the fence he got
there an’ knocked me down.’’

‘*Knocked you down! What did he do that
for? What harm was there in taking a short
eut across his precious old field? I never!!
What with their barbed wire fences and hedges,
we have to keep on the dusty roads more and
more!’’ Difficulties I had met in pursuing
botanical research here rose to remembrance,
and discontents over fences aroused my sym-
pathy for the old woman’s wrongs. ‘‘But to
run you down! and knock you off the fence !—
that ’s a new one. When did he take to carry-
ing on like that?’’

“‘Oh, ye know,’’ extenuatingly, which puz-
zled me, ‘‘ez he grows older he gits more per-
nickety. He hain’t never been so orful gentle.’’

‘“‘Why do n’t they shut him up, or send him
toa sanatorium. He needs treatment. There ’s
money enough and to spare in all that land
that might be used to bring him around again
so he ’d act right.’’

“Anh!’’ Did she doubt my advice? It
seemed so. ‘‘Huh! They all act that-a-way
now an’ then, ye know. An’ they do shut him
up in the stable now an’ then, but I do n’t see
ez it betters him much. It aggerwates him, I ’m

thinkin’.’’

42 SUMMER IN A BOG.

“The stable! That ’s no place. There are
sanatoriums for such cases.’’

She seemed more than ever doubtful of me.
But she resumed her story:

‘‘After he knocked me onto the ground the
first time I was that skeert! I dassent stir for
a bit, an’ then I knowed I ’d have to try agin
to git acrost. So I riz up an’ started to climb
the fence agin. An’ with that he knocked me
off it the second time. JI reckon he ’d about
killed me then an’ there, only some men as wuz
workin’ in the next field heard me a-screamin’.’’
She chuckled a little at the recollection, and I
remember thinking her mirth ill-timed, consid-
ering the indignity—‘‘for I jest screamed fur
all was out. An’ they shouted at him an’ run
with big sticks an’ pitchforks in their hands
an’ chased him off.’’

‘‘But why do you live with him?’’ I asked,
sternly. For though I am a believer in long
suffering and mutual forbearance in family
life, I firmly draw the line at assault and bat-
tery.

‘Livin’ with him?’’ She, too, began to show
signs of irascibility with my stupidity. ‘‘I
hain’t a-livin’ with him!’’

‘Are you not his housekeeper?”’

“‘Oh,’’ she said, ‘‘I hain’t a-talkin’ about
him. Iwas a-talkin’ about the gentleman cow;”’

SUMMER IN A BOG. 43

—in a very sepulchral whisper, suggestive of
the most careful propriety—‘‘ye did n’t rightly
understand.’’

Which shows how ignorant one can be of
the rural nomenclature of the domestic animals.

After my companion had recovered from the
shock necessarily received from the discovery
of such ignorance, she proceeded to sound me
on the news topics of the county at large.

“‘T hear tell there ’s a new religion over to
Sedalia?’’ ,

“Ah! Indeed? I had n’t heard of it before.
What do they call it?’’

“« <The Holy Rollers’ is the name I hearn.’’

“‘T have heard of the ‘Holy Jumpers’—
though not in this county—and I ’ve even seen
people who saw some ‘holy jumping,’ but ‘Roll-
ers’—-do they roll?”’

‘“‘T reckon; ’specially ef ther ’s a hill, it’s
easier. One o’ them ‘Rollers’ at Sedalia rolled
right down the road—it ’s on a hill—to the
church door. Wisht I could a seen him!’’

‘‘Perhaps you may if you will go there be-
fore it’s time for his rolling and watch for
him.’’ ;

“‘T dunno. They say lots o’ folks from the
country did drive in a’rly to Sedalia and
waited to see him, but he didn’t. They ses it’s
jest accordin’ as the spirit moves him that he

44 SUMMER IN A BOG.

takes to rollin’. An’ them ere hills at Sedalia
is like the ones back aroun’ your farm, mighty
handy ef ye got any rollin’ to do. Hain’t it
awful!’’

The ‘‘awfulness’’ seemed to affect the old
lady with undisguised mirth; for, while inci-
dents of this nature may not add to the gayety
of nations, it is not to be denied that they
greatly aid the hilarity of monotonous country
places.

Another use for the kames. Sedalia is in
the heart of the kames of the terminal moraine
a dozen miles to the south.

‘“‘Tom Weir ’s gone into the concrete busi-
ness,’’ she resumed.

‘‘Has he?’’ I was about to say, ‘‘Who is
he?’’ when I recalled the conversation heard
some time before in regard to his work among
the hills.

“‘Yes, I reckon he has all he kin do puttin’
in floors, walks, cellars, an’ even houses, all
’roun’ through the country.’’

“That’s good.”’

‘‘Reckon ye ’ve been to see his mother.’’

‘‘Not yet; but I must go some day. It seems
the days are never long enough for all I would
like to do. But I will call on Mrs. Wier very
soon.’’ "

“Times ye ’r trapesin’ over them hills after

SUMMER IN A BOG. 45

weeds, ye might run back to the other road an’
make her a visit.’’

Lost in doubt as to just what she meant by
her reference to the botanizing trips which took
up most of my spare time in the country, we
arrived in town and she signified her wish to
alight.

A few days later, as I made my way toward
the road out of a thick tangle of poison ivy and
tick-trefoil (of which latter I had been trying to
secure a good specimen—a difficult task), I
came face to face with a couple of pedestrians
emerging from behind a hill, going in the same
direction.

They were a woman dressed in black and a
man whom I at once recognized as a noted
scholar and professor of geology in a leading
university. I had met him in the city a few
months before.

I was very glad indeed to see the professor,
and told him so.

“‘T suppose,’’ said he, ‘‘you know your
neighbor, Mrs. Wier?’’

So I had to explain to Mrs. Wier, whom I
was also very glad to meet, that I had been
planning to call on her for a long time, but
somehow the time has a way of slipping by and
one has never half enough of it.

‘¢And, Mrs. Wier, there is a fascination

46 SUMMER IN A BOG.

about these hills and swamps which takes pos-
session of me when once I get among them, so
that I find it impossible to tear myself away
until the last minute, when I look so disrepu-
tably frowsy that the only refuge is home, to
which Ihurry. Have you discovered any charm
in their proximity yet?’’

‘*A great deal; and my son has shared his
study of their geological features with me, so
that I have thought of them in that way some-
what.’’

“‘Professor, do you recall what we were
speaking about—the iceberg drift and Dr. New-
berry’s theory in regard to this region?’’

‘‘Ah! about icebergs carrying the boulders
of huge size? The views of Newberry given
forty years ago in regard to the ice period are
not accepted now in so far as they involve the
submergence of any part of central and south-
ern Ohio, or involve iceberg action. The glacia-
tion of Ohio was by a continental ice-sheet alone,
though during the retreat of the ice large tem-
perate lakes formed against the ice front in the
Lake Erie region, and the margins of those
water bodies are shown by the ‘ridges,’ etc., in
northern Ohio.’’

‘‘Mrs. Wier,’’ said I, ‘‘take time to consider
the word ‘ice-sheet.’ Can you imagine such a
thing a mile or two miles in depth?”’

SUMMER IN A BOG. 47

‘‘Three miles is considered by one authority
as a moderate estimate. A possible eighteen
for some regions is hinted at. I am more than
delighted to hear the Professor’s theories in
regard to this portion of the country.’’

“In this part of Ohio,’’ proceeded the Pro-
fessor, ‘‘there were two ice invasions—that of
the Illinoisan ice-sheet; and the last invasion,
that of the Wisconsin drift. Between the two
was an inter-glacial period in which the ice-
sheet melted back probably from all of Ohio
and southern Canada, and possibly disappeared
from North America wholly—no one knows.’’

‘‘T am not altogether ignorant of what you
are speaking, Professor,’’ said Mrs. Wier; ‘‘but
there are several other ‘invasions’ mentioned
in my son’s text-books, into which I glance as
T find time.’’

“The evidence for the three earlier ice-
advances is not found in Ohio, but farther west.
If the earlier sheets invaded Ohio, the later
advances (Illinoisan and Wisconsin) destroyed
their deposits and prevented our knowing of
them.’’

As the Professor concluded we came to the
end of the private road upon which we had been
walking. A gate opened on the highway, and
here I should leave them, I thought regret-
fully, to find my way to the next mterurban

48 SUMMER IN A BOG.

stopping-place, half a mile or more away. I
had come out on the car that day.

‘¢We are to have a new stop at this place—
or not far off,’’ said Mrs. Wier. ‘‘Have you
ever been at my son’s workshop? I guess he
won’t mind you, if you care to come with us.
He has some special things to see to to-day that
were to keep him there; ut usually you can
hardly tell where to find him of late, his work
is so scattered around through the country. It
grows very rapidly.’’

The invitation was accepted promptly and
gratefully. The path led around an embank-
ment above a small stream, a tributary of Mink
Run, which became a torrent at times of freshet,
and through a thick grove of willows which hid
from the road the sheds and buildings of
“‘young Wier’s concrete plant,’’ as it was now
spoken of through the country.

Blonde, well built, five-feet-ten or more in
height, the proprietor of the plant was found
in the office, or weather-proof inner room, ar-
ranging on a shelf sundry blocks which had just
been taken from moulds. He was delighted with
the visit of his former instructor, and the Pro-
fessor was soon busy inspecting the products
of the young man’s skill, as were we all.

They were representations of plant, flower,
fruit, in fine, smooth sand, Some of them were

SUMMER IN A BOG. 49

conventional designs common to architecture.
They were in natural gray, red, and pale green
colors.

‘‘Hxperimenting, Professor.’? The young
man was somewhat apologetic, yet a tone of
satisfaction indicated that he was pleased with
the result.

But my own affairs called upon me to be
onmy way. Congratulating Mr. Wier upon the
success of his artistic designs and the promising
field which lay before him for their use, I gath-
ered up my portfolio and took leave of my new
friends.

What is more interesting than the road are
the people who travel it, even as the houses of
the inhabitants predicate a deeper concern than
the terminal moraine and the adjacent swamps
and fields. All the changes hinted at by geolog-
ical discoveries may have preceded the advent
of man upon the earth.

How and where the human race first ap-
peared, whether one or several varieties, or
whether it is a continuation and higher develop-
ment of the animal kingdom, through the ages
of invertebrates, fishes, reptiles, birds and mam-
malia, there is no satisfactory proof. Scientists
present hypothases on the subject more or less
satisfactory—usually less.

4

50 : SUMMER IN A BOG.

But this we conclusively know by geological
discovery, that from a primitive life in caves
and huts, aided first by implements of bone and
stone, to the present complexity of knowledge,
arts, science, inventions, and luxurious living,
man has progressed. There has been no phys-
ical alteration observed through our known his-
tory of him greater than may be accounted for
on the basis of civilization and climate or of
intellectual and psychic development or degen-
eration.

An interesting and, as yet, unanswered ques-
tion is: Did man exist previous to the glacial
epoch? In the glacial deposits rude paleolithic
implements of argillite, flint, chert, quartz, etc.,
are not infrequently found. It will be well for
the public to be on the alert to save for scientific
examination by experts in ethnology everything
of this kind found in the earth.

In the month of November, 1911, at Water-
works Park (London, Ohio), a number—ten or
more—chert arrow-heads were discovered by
well-diggers at a depth of 80 feet, on a bed of
blue clay mixed with pebbles. It was not until
several months afterward that I heard of this
very interesting ‘‘find,’’ when all but two of
the arrow-heads had been carried off by the
workmen, who were from Washington C. H. It
would be now difficult and uncertain to trace
them.

GRASS OF PARNASSUS. 51

Leavine the strip of bog which has furnished
a whole season’s entertainment, we keep along
the banks of the little stream until the foothills
are reached. Amid grass and sedge, seeped in
the cold water of a spring emerging from the
gently sloping land, a bed of Parnassia Caro-
liniana was discovered one September evening.
Little did I guess the treasure I had found and
the moments of joy which the future held for
me through this pure blossom!

Parnassia belongs to the Saxifragaceae
Family. A scape from eight to twenty-four
inches in length supports a terminal ‘white
flower, or sometimes yellow. In our grassy,
hillside spring the flowers are white, with mi-
nute markings, or tiny flecks, of green, like the
shadows of lines in a bit of alabaster. A single
sessile leaf clasps the stem below the middle.

‘A cluster of roundish, petioled leaves rises
at the base. Alternate with the five broadly
ovate, marcescent petals are five stamens, and
at the base of each petal a cluster of three
staminoidia, or imperfect stamens. In another
variety there are from nine to fifteen stam-
inoidia.

_ Here is an illustration of the economy of
plant development: Five stamens proving suffi-
cient to fertilize the numerous ovules of the
capsule, the remaining ones cease to perform

52 SUMMER IN A BOG.

their office if, in the mysterious order of nature,
they were ever fully developed. Like the ver-
miform appendix in the human anatomy, they
are of no use, and one can only speculate as to
why they are there.

The plant receives its name from the Mount,
favored by the muses and the gods, Parnassus;
the name being conferred by Dioscorides, a
Greek physician, in the first or second century
of the Christian era.

One lovely day in October I gave a luncheon
in honor of one of the fair daughters of the
neighborhood whose marriage was soon to be
solemnized. A large bowl of fringed gentians,
from the swamp in the cornfield, occupied the
center of the table, and each guest received a
few blossoms of this plant. To the bride was
given a small bouquet of Grass of Parnassus, all
that the hillside bog had vouchsafed to produce.

It was the first time that either flower had
been seen by any of the twelve guests assem-
bled, and their pleasure and interest may be
imagined. j ;

‘(When we were at Sulphur Springs, Vir-
ginia,’’ said one of them, ‘‘a young man at the
hotel, who was a botanist, spent a lot of his time
looking for this flower, Grass of Parnassus.
He said that it is very rare, and that he had
been told it grew in the neighborhood of the

HAUNTS OF FRINGED GENTIAN. 53

Springs. I never heard that he found it,
though.”’

PrrHaps no American flower has been more
sung of by the poets and generally mentioned
with interest than the Fringed Gentian. Com-
ing late in the year, when the floral ranks are
growing thin, and hiding in swampy ground
away from the trodden haunts of man, this
beautiful blossom must be sought with care.
In the early morning, too—

‘*. . . when the quiet light
Succeeds the clear and frosty night,’’

must her lover seek, else will the dainty fringed
petals have closed and the cup of cerulean blue
be hidden from sight. Yet on a cool, dark day,
when the sun failed to shine, I have known the
flower to remain open the whole day.

Long had I sought for it, but always to find
that the blue which had beckoned me was that
of the lobelia-—blue cardinal flower. One day
a friend described a flower, new to her, which
had been brought from Robert’s Mill, or the
Fish Hatchery, she thought; blue and with a
fringe on the petals.

A fringe on the petals? And blue? It must
be! There is no other.

54 SUMMER IN A BOG.

So at once the search began; but that night
we drove back to town without having found it.
A few weeks afterward the search was resumed
and the flower found on the grounds of the Fish
Hatchery, the true Fringed Gentian.

Then was there much sacrificing at the floral
shrine, of quoting Bryant and Helen Hunt Jack-
son, the prose of Miss Sedgwick, also, in ‘‘The
Boy of Mount Righi.’’ There were drives in
the crisp, frosty mornings, for it was in Novem-
ber, the weather mild Indian summer, when it
was first found. Since then I have found it
plentifully in bloom in September, when not a
suspicion of frost could be detected on the
warm, bright day.

Getting its name from King Gentius of
Illyria, this lovely flower holds regal court, also,
in my strip of bog, the bouquets of ‘‘ribbon’’
having long since passed through some trans-
formations since I first beheld it. Riddell’s and
the Bog Golden Rod, yellow, with their plumes,
now share the setting of the loom with the hues
of this queen:

“‘Blue, blue, as if the sky let fall
A flower from its cerulean wall.’’

A black soil, from which all mineral matter
—or nearly—has been leached, is the habitat
of the fringed gentian. In grassy tufts it rises

HAUNTS OE FRINGED GENTIAN. 55

above the hidden moisture, which must have
means of drainage, never lying in pools about
the slender, white roots of the plant, so far as
my observation has gone.

A year or two after the finding of the fringed
gentian, accompanied by a friend I visited the
Fish Hatchery. A little boy of four volunteered
to be our guide, the son of the family in charge.
Previous to this, considerable effort had here
been made to establish the pheasant as a game
bird in Ohio, but this had now been abandoned
as impracticable, and only one golden pheasant
remained at the hatchery. This bird the child
invited us to see.

Dear little Charlie! It is a question which
we marveled at the more—the fine coloring of
the handsome bird, or the intelligence of the
child, lisping facts for our information and
making himself our genial entertainer.

Next we visited the slope above the pond,
where the fringed gentian had been found.
There was not much of it in evidence.

‘‘Tadies often drive out here and ask to see
this flower,’’ said Charlie.

‘“‘You must tell them not to pull it up by the
roots; they are so small and white and frail,
and come up so easily, if one is not careful.’’

The child listened attentively.

‘‘And tell them that it will not bear trans-

56 SUMMER IN A: BOG.

planting; that it has been tried, but no one ever
succeeded in making it grow. It is said to be
the one plant which has refused to become a
resident of Europe. Tell the men who work in
the ponds not to throw it away when they have
to dig it up, but to replant it; it is such a pre-
cious and beautiful flower, and you will be so
glad to have it here at the Hatchery.’’

‘“Yes,’’ said Charlie, ‘‘I ’ll tell ’em.’’
* * * * * * * * *% *

What a way time has of slipping by! It was
four or five years more before I visited the
Hatchery again. We were down at the ponds
and I had been explaining to my companion
how the young are reared in the different divi-
sions of the numerous ponds and, when old
enough, shipped to different parts of the State
to be placed in bodies of water as desired.
Presently a workman took out a shovelful of
the ill-smelling, slimy, green water weed, which
is so troublesome in quiet waters, for my in-
spection, when I became aware of a big boy
walking in our company and, by his side, a very
contented goose.

He volunteered to get me a better specimen
of the water-weed. He told us about his goose,
which had come to meet him the moment school
was out and he at home. It was a wild goose
which had been captured on the pond a few

HAUNTS OF FRINGED GENTIAN. 57

years before. The goose would let no one touch
him but the child, and would bite if a stranger
attempted to take liberties. It was a sight to
see the bird waddle along fondly at the side of
the boy, expressing its satisfaction in some low
gabble.

After a while the boy said:

“Tt was you who told me about the gentian—
the fringed gentian, was n’t it?’’

I did not understand at first, but in a mo-
ment the five years slipped away.

“‘Are you that little boy who showed us the
golden pheasant? Now truly, are you Charlie?
You have grown so large that I would hardly
think it possible.’’

Yes, it was Charlie; the same inquiring mind
and genial host as of other days; one to make
us love childhood and look for large possibilities
in mature years. He had told his parents about
the flower, and under their care it was multiply-
ing and flourishing in different parts of the
grounds.

Whoever visits the fish hatchery near Lon-
don, Ohio, in the autumn, may have the added
pleasure of seeing this lovely flower in one of
its native haunts.

58 SUMMER IN A BOG.

Once upon a time I found a dear little three-
year-old child playing beside a bank of tall,
luxuriant ferns. ‘‘I’s calling on Lady Moss-
Green,’’ she explained. When I had taken my-
self off, she proceeded with her prattling con-
fidences intended only for the lady of the green-
wood.

Even so in the childhood of the race we
peopled the trees with Dryads and Hama-
dryads.

‘Still
Doth the old instinct bring back the old names.’’

Have you ever met Lady Moss-Green? A
most charming hostess, ever ready to extend
a welcoming hand and the entire hospitality of
her establishment. No excuses are made on
your arrival for possible unreadiness, as no
such condition ever exists within her borders.
Winter, summer, autumn, spring, it is all the
same ; for even when her summer fripperies are
laid aside you are absorbed in admiration of
the austere beauty of her furnishings. The
winter trees are fascinating.

Last June it was that I met Geranium macu-
latum in her parlor, holding her seed vessels
aloft in a graceful cluster from the point of a
prolonged receptacle. Her five one-seeded pods
extended from the tips of their slender, curving

LADY MOSS-GREEN. 59

styles. What an admirable pattern for an elec-
trolier! Not far away was Hrodiwm, a near
relation, who had given a few extra twists to
the styles, elaborating the pattern.

Indeed, it is common report that the best
architects and artists, to say nothing of deco-
raters of interiors, are in the habit of frequent-
ing the receptions of Lady Moss-Green for the
express purpose of getting ideas for new styles.

I know not how it is with the mechanic, but
of a truth Phryma leptostachya is a wonder to
me. At first I said, ‘‘She is an arrant coquette;
see how she draws her treasures to her side,
holding them there till she chooses to dispense
them ; then, her purpose ripe, she flings them on
the winds, holding out her empty hands and
laughing i in your face.’’

Or, is she an economist, appearing to with-

‘draw her stores only that she may the more
widely dispense them, seeding for harvest?

Certainly she is an example of a natural
sling; consider for a moment the unsolved
motive force in that little flower.

The family of Cruciferae is well represented
in the estate of my Lady, and its members are
worthy of the favor with which man regards
them. How bountiful their stores of pungent
seeds! And here is one of the Capparidaceae
family, Cleome pungens, a brilliant, gracious

60 SUMMER IN A BOG.

and friendly guest. Decked in her pretty lay-
endar gown, all fringes and furbelows, she at-
tracts to her side. How generously she extends
hospitality to the honey bee, and her hands are
full of gifts!’ Take what she gives you; it is
wholesome and hearty cheer. Like wit, it will
season your simple repast and give zest to the
daily monotony.

Sauntering through the woodland one after-
noon in May, in the dense shade at the root of
a tree some little fairy people, four or five
inches high, swayed gracefully in a gentle
breeze, nodding to each other.

Pale, fragile-looking little things, they held
their own bravely when gathered and carried
home. Thalesia uniflora, by name—how grace-
fully suggestive! Far prettier than the com-
mon cancer-root by which some know them, or
broom-rape, still another. Unfortunately for
the family, some menibers of it are very much
disliked by the agriculturists, as they quarter
themselves on the clover. In fact, the whole
family, Orobanchaceae, is parasitic. This was
my first introduction to any of its members.

Another day, later in the season, and in the
same locality, what purple shadow under trail-
ing leaves beckons to discovery? The Virgima
Snake-root, a near relation to the Dutchman’s
Pipe. And so it goes. Rarely do we spend a

SNAKES AND BOTANIZING. 61

portion of our time with Lady Moss-Green that
she does not bestow a precious souvenir to
mark the occasion.

The little child who was with me, closer to
the ground than I, saw yet more.

“‘Look! Look!’’ she said, in a voice where
fear predominated.

It was a land-tortoise, its head protruded,
hissing industriously. Very snakelike in ap-
pearance, its slow gait precluded fear. With
a compliment to his pretty, crimson-tinted cara-
pace, we hurried on, doubtless much to the
peace of his lordship.

“Do vou ever meet any snakes when you are
botanizing?’’

I had invited a friend to be my companion
on one of my trips to the woods, and we were
bowling along the smooth road, the fertile fields
on either hand, the soft breeze gently fanning
us aS we progressed toward our destination.

““Once,’’ I answered, ‘‘as I stole up to a little
stream which issued from a spring in the hill-
side, I looked across the fence and saw a tiny
water-snake disporting in the crystal fluid.’’

“T don’t call that anything,’’ she inter-
rupted, for she loved to talk, and had bigger
stories than mine to relate. ‘‘Dearme! I knew

62 SUMMER IN A BOG.

a young lady in Virginia who went to spend a
night with a friend in the country. It was a fine
old mansion, with the trees drooping over the
windows, so that the sun merely filtered through
and never shone in quite hot at any time of
day.”’

“‘Very bad for the health. Why did they
not cut some of them down?”’

‘When she went to her bed-room the first
night,’’ continued my friend, paying no atten-
tion to the interruption, ‘‘she stood in front of
the mirror, and by the dim candle light con-
templated her reflection, wondering how many
in the early pioneer days had gazed into its dim
and faded depths. In an absent sort of way
she began to remove her collar and ribbons and
then her hairpins, which she was about to stick
into what she took for a holder or some sort of
a pin-cushion, when she fancied that she saw a
motion quiver through its rounded coils, for it
was of circular shape. Bringing the candle
closer to it, she examined it attentively. Im-
agine her horror when she discovered it to be
a huge snake whose nap on the bureau she had
disturbed. Almost paralyzed with fright, she
stood rooted to the spot for a time, but finally
managed to go to her door and yell. Her
friends came to the rescue and killed the poor
reptile, whose curiosity had brought him into

SNAKES AND BOTANIZING. 63

this unfriendly region. A neighboring window
had proved a tempting opening, as it was kept
slightly lowered at the top for ventilation
throughout the summer.

‘*Still somewhat shaken by her experience,
she completed her toilet for retiring and was
soon comfortably established in bed. Presently
she heard a dull thud on the floor, as of some-
thing falling or jumping from the window. This
time she did not go to the door, but yelled lust-
ily from her bed. Her friends came quickly
to see what had befallen her. On hearing her
story they searched the floor and found under
the bureau a huge snake, evidently the mate
of the one which had met its end while posing
as a pin-cushion. It was speedily despatched.’’

‘‘And the poor girl? Did she get any sleep
that night?’’ i
' “T ean not say. But do you never see any
large snakes? That tiny one was not worth
mentioning. I have heard you talk of swamps;
have you seen no snakes?’’

‘“‘The farm where we are going this after-
noon is said to be just swarming with snakes in
the swamps. The man who ploughed the land
tells that one not less than five feet long chased
him, but he killed it. The farmer’s wife saw one
come up out of the swamp to steal her chickens;
but her husband happened to be handy and he

64 SUMMER IN A BOG.

despatched it. You will see it hanging on a
branch of the pear tree as we pass the house.
It is not less than four or five feet long.’’

‘‘For the land’s sake! I’m afraid to go!
Don’t go botanizing this afternoon. We ’ll
drive gently along this lovely road without
stopping anywhere.’’

“‘T had not finished about the blacksnakes at
the farm. Last autumn the man says that a
big snake chased the horse from the water when
it came to gét a drink. And the horse ran off
good and fast, too.’’

“‘T like to hear snake stories when I am not
likely to meet any snakes. I think the wild
places in the country are fearful, but as we are
not in any of them, tell me about snakes you
have seen. Go ahead and yarn away.’’

‘‘What I will tell you are not yarns, but
simple truth. Once, when I was little, I was
running along a dusty road in the country in
the twilight of a hot August evening. The shad-
ows of night falling around, I fell right over
a large snake which had come out into the road,
probably to catch toads or something. It wrig-
gled away into the long grass by the roadside.
A little further on, another snake fled from his
lounging-place in the dust of the road and dis-
appeared in the grass. I was pretty frightened,
but probably no more so than the snakes.’’

SNAKES AND BOTANIZING. 65

“‘T should think. Well, go ahead with your
snake stories.’’

‘‘Once, when I was about twelve years old,
I went blackberrying with a party of young
people. I was running on ahead through the
long grass on the side of a hill. Suddenly I was
brought to bay by a snake that seemed to stand
on end and hiss z-z-z-z in my very face. I yelled
with all my might, and the snake disappeared
in the grass. J am not sure which was fright-
ened the more, the snake or I.’’

“That was sensational enough for any one.
Go on.”’

“Once a friend and I walked along a hill
above a low, swampy land. It was mid-summer
and the day was hot. As we mounted to the
highest point she told me to stop and look be-
low. The tall rushes and grass waved, though
no wind blew, and soon forth issued a big black
snake, I am afraid to say how long or thick.
I should have been more terrified than I was,
but the snake was headed away from us, and it
went on down the valley and disappeared into
a thick underbrush.’’

‘‘And is that all? I ’m not tired listening.’’

‘“‘No? Well, once when I had just passed
my ’teens and was beginning to feel impressed
with the flood of years, I was roaming through a
forest, without a thought of danger. I saw a

5

66 SUMMER IN A BOG.

fallen tree which I thought would be nice to
clamber on as I used to do in childhood. Sud-
denly I was stopped by seeing a peculiar shin-
ing light at some distance in front of me. I
gazed at it in fascination, speculating as to what
it might be. Was it the reflection of the sun in
a drop of dew, making that brilliant diamond
light? Was it the eye of a serpent, unblink-
ingly drawing me to destruction? Then it came
to my remembrance that I had been warned to
avoid that very piece of woods on account of
the rattlesnakes, copperheads, and other deadly
serpents which were reputed to be found in it.
And only the day before I had killed a young
adder on the road near by. Then I fled. I can
never forget the terror I experienced. And
whether it was from imagination or some nat-
ural enemy I can not say. I only know that the
fear was real enough. Now I think I have given
you a full account of all my snake experiences.’’

‘“‘But that was long ago. Surely you must
see them in your trips for flowers; you go a
great deal, and into all kinds of places.’’

‘‘One experience, bordering on psycholog-
ical, I can relate. Last summer an impression
came to me that a snake was on our premises.
It was not merely an imagination, because it
would not be dismissed as the figments of the
brain may be, Besides, there is so much shrub-

SNAKES AND BOTANIZING. 67

bery and weeds growing by the fences, a snake
might easily enjoy life in our garden.

‘‘One very warm day in May of this year the
snake was discovered—a young and harmless
house-snake which had adopted us. It was four-
teen inches in length and not much larger than
a lead pencil in girth. Alas! for the general
prejudice against snakes, he was despatched.’’

“‘Of course. The right thing to do. But, as
I was saying, in your search for flowers in the
woods and long grass and weeds, surely there
are snakes?’’

““Yes; but I never think of them. I am not
looking for them, or I presume I could see some.
At this farm, where we will spend a few hours,
[have been many times. I have ranged through
its swamps, wandered along its stream, and
climbed its hills. Every inch of its woods seems
familiar to me, and once a ground-hog tumbled
out of my way into its hole; but a snake I have
not seen. I know that the stories told of its.
numerous snakes must be true. Here we are.’’

As we passed down the lane leading to the
house, lying upon a bank was the long, dark
body of the snake the ploughman had killed.
Further on, at the back of the house, hung the
limp length of a five-foot snake, as a warning
to all chicken-stealing ophidians. My compan-
ion groaned with disgust and fear.

68 SUMMER IN A BOG.

I drove along the meadow road overlooking
the stream, now shallow and silvery, but which
in times of freshet went tearing all before it.
We reached the woods.

“Tt looks like the very headquarters of
snakedom off through there,’’ she said, pointing
to the course of the brook through fallen, mould-
ering tree trunks, under the shelving banks and
slender, graceful forest trees festooned with
grapevines which bordered its meandering
course, to the glimpse in the distance of open
swamp and glade. I descended and tied the
horse to a fence.

“‘T have a book here for you to read while I
am gone,’’ and I brought forth from its hiding-
place a volume of short stories. ‘‘I know you
will become so interested in this that you will
forget all about snakes. Whereas, if you went
with me, you would be so afraid, that all the
snakes in the region roundabout would come
out to gloat over you. I fear their greeting
would be like that the ploughman received. As
for me, I shall be so interested in seeking the
specimens for which I have come that I shall not
think of the poor creatures at all.

‘‘A few years ago a party of scientists from
the State University went to Guatemala. They
saw scarcely a reptile, and those of a harmless
nature. One of the men wished to find some

FINDING PHRYMA. 69

rattlesnakes, so the whole party took a special
hunt one day and collected seven. Previous to
that they had not seen a single one. If this
happened in the tropics, don’t you think we
need not worry about snakes here?”’’

It is not always snakes which prove to be the
bete noir of the woman botanist. It is much
more likely to be tramps. The locality is in-
deed sequestered from the haunts of man where
the uppermost thoughts of the lonely female
herbalist are not mixed with fears of meeting
some lawless member of the vagabond class.

It was a hot day in August. Any other
woman would have been taking an afternoon
nap, but the spirit moved the woman-botanist
to go to a certain locality in the country in
search of certain specimens which were due to
have reached the time of seed. The woods ex-
tended for about half a mile along the road.

“<T will enter at this end of the woods,’’ said
she to the boy who was driving, ‘‘and I will
walk through to the other end, where you may
wait for me.’’

So saying, she crossed the fence and disap-
peared in the thick undergrowth, while the boy
and the phaeton also disappeared down the
road.

70 SUMMER IN A BOG.

She found some ferns and sedges which had
matured; she paused to hear a bird sing:
‘“‘Teacher! Teacher! Teacher!’’ You do not
hear that bird sing in town. There were pretty
views to see between the giant oaks where a
clearing had been made. It was all so sylvan
and refreshing that for once the thought of her
solitude being intruded upon by human being
was entirely forgotten.

As she advanced, the clearing became wider,
the trees fewer. Here is a path visible in the
greensward. And what is this? A man lying
face downward in the shade of a great oak
free. His wide straw hat lay partly over his
head, a bright tin bucket by his side. She was
out in the open—there was no friendly shrub,
into whose shade she might quietly retire, close
at hand. She stood at bay, breathless, sur-
prised. She stared at the prostrate figure. Not
a movement revealed that he had heard her
approach. Perhaps he had fallen in a faint
and she should seek for assistance? What was
the trouble with the man?

One thing she decided to do—she would steal
out to the road and make her escape. The path
led to the highway, and just across was a house.
She decided that she would not apprise the
people that a man lay in the woods, for it was
most likely that he was taking a noonday siesta
like normal mortals,

FINDING PHRYMA. 71

A little out of sorts with her own cowardice
(or caution, was it?), she walked along the
road, noting that, further on, a herd of cows
fed by the wayside. Something unusual about
a plant inside the fence attracted her attention.
She climbed over and dug it up. It certainly
was unlike anything in her collection, but its
slender spikes of irregular purplish flowers had
been partly cropped off. She decided to remain
inside the fence, on a well-worn and convenient
path, and search for a more complete speci-
men. By so doing she might also avoid that
drove of cows, although a second thought as-
sured her that they were too much interested
in the grass to pay any attention to her.

Setting out on her quest, she had not walked
a dozen steps when she saw lying in the grass,
immediately in front of her, a gigantic man,
face downward, straw hat shading from the
flies, and a general air of repose.

‘““This woods is just fairly swarming with
men lying in the grass! Ill have to give it
up!’’ So, taking the road once more, she braved
the presence of the herd of cows as a lesser
evil, and sought her driver, whom she found
at the far end of the woods, also extended upon
the grass in shade of the trees.

She afterward learned that the men were
most harmless persons and that they were the
custodians of the herd of Jerseys.

72 SUMMER IN A’BOG.

But as she turns over her herbarium, the
mutilated specimen of Phryma leptostachya re-
calls one of her most sensational experiences.

This plant, the only child in the family of
Phrymaceae, has a peculiarity which bestows
upon it the name of Lop-seed. The calyx, after
flowering, is abruptly reflexed against the
stem. When the seeds have ripened they are
thrown out by a sudden upward motion of the
receptacle, which now becomes horizontal in
position.

It was in this locality that a cucumber tree
was observed. It had been spared by the owner
when the woods were cleared away, and now
stood alone in the middle of a large field slop-
ing toward the southwest. Its bright, rosy
cones of seeds among its dark green leaves
were shaped like small cucumbers, giving this
member of the magnolia family its common
name.

In the front yard of the residence of this
farmer were a number of persimmon trees to
which the owner had on a former occasion called
attention. There was one variety which ripened
without the aid of frost and was, in September,
ready for eating and quite free from astrin-
gence.

ELDERBERRIES. 43

As THE heat of summer gradually dries up the
higher portion of the swamp—the infrequent
rains failing to replenish the hollows—the
range for tramps of investigation increases.
With the approach of September the ripening
elderberries call for gathering and housewifely
preserving.

The residents of the cities are growing ap-
preciative of this berry and may often be seen
bringing home a basketful gathered in fence-
corners or near railways beyond the suburbs.
Spare the elderberry in the waste places when
grubbing out the unwelcome intruders from
your tidy farms.

Do you know the value of this fruit, and
how to subdue its uninviting flavor and bring
into favor its good qualities by rendering it
palatable?

The pioneer housewife made most appetiz-
ing sauces and pies from a combination with
dried apples—or fresh sour ones—and how
tasty they were in the lunch basket! But there
is still another fruit which may be used ad-
vantageously.

Nature has thrown into juxtaposition with
the elderberry the wild grape. At the same
time of year they are ready to unite in pro-
ducing a pleasant and wholesome article of
food, the seeds having been strained out after

74 SUMMER IN A BOG.

boiling. About midwinter, when other fruits
begin to pall upon the appetite, bring out the
_elderberry jelly or jam and be surprised with
its wild, inviting tang.

Memories are stirred into being. It recalls
the autumn and the afternoon tramp when the
berries were gathered. The tussocks of with-
ered sedge on which the bush grew—how you
stopped and drew back, remembering the holes
beside them where snakes might easily hide,
and even the chance of quicksands! Here and
there, where a spring oozed up, you were liable
to plump into a wet place. But mostly you
kept on the solid ground of the high bank
above the Run; for, while the elder likes to
have water not far away, it stands on solid
ground by preference.

The gathering of the glossy, dark bunches
and, later in the starlight, sitting on the friendly
porch plucking the berries from the stems, while
the family group is near, spinning yarns and
retailing the day’s doings before retiring to
rest, all come back to mind. And after that,
the peaceful slumber of the weary, for never is
sleep more perfect than after a day’s outing:
picnicking, boating, nutting, elderberrying, in
the golden autumn sunshine among the woods
and swamps and streams which lie among the
hills of the terminal moraine in the Scioto basin.

ELDERBERRIES. 15

Across the fields and bogs is heard the shot
of the hunter. The cottontail is bagged by the
good marksman. The whirr of the quail’s
wings is heard less often than of yore and sug-
gests the propriety of sparing to the country
the friendly fellowship of Bob White’s call by
additional protection to this desirable bird.

Sometimes a woodcock is found in the game-
bag; less often, a plover. The pheasant has
failed to respond to the efforts of the Govern-
ment at propagation. Perhaps some genius of
the future may evolve a sport for men lacking
in the destruction of bird life, yet including the
zest of the search and the rural tramp.

With summer comes the sunflower and all
the golden sisterhood of the Compositae. As
the year matures she decks herself with the
purple and white of the aster, the brilliant blue
and red of the lobelias, retaining for her final
solace the cerulean charms of the fringed gen-
tian.

Where the buttercup and the water-crow-
foot spread their enchantment, the withered
leaves have fallen. The duck-weed, the pond-
weed, and the selaginella have had their day.
Gradually the birds disappear, taking wing for
their tropical haunts. Comes a day when a cold
breath whistles through the naked trees, fringes
the stream with glistening ice among the ragged

76 SUMMER IN A BOG.

sedges and rushes, and the water, shrunken and
hushed, steals along under a gray, portentous
sky.

TOBACCO.

‘“‘Ir,’’ answered Mejnour, ‘‘a stranger had visited
a wandering tribe before one property of herbalism
was known to them; if he had told the savages that
the herbs, which every day they trampled under foot,
were endowed with the most potent virtues: that one
would restore to health a brother on the verge of
death ; that another would paralyze into idiotcy their
wisest sages; that a third would strike lifeless to the
dust their most stalwart champion; that tears and
laughter, vigor and disease, madness and reason,
wakefulness and sleep, existence and dissolution,
were coiled up in those unregarded leaves—would
they not have held him a sorcerer or a liar? To half
the virtues of the vegetable world mankind are yet in
the darkness of the savages I have supposed. There
are faculties within us with which certain herbs have
affinity and over which they have power. The moly
of the ancients is not all a fable.’’-—Bulwer.

We are apt to regard the earth beneath our
feet as subject to blind and meaningless chance.
What we call ‘‘natural causes’’ are placed in
a catalogue of events quite aside from those
which we designate as ‘‘providential.’’? Per-
haps we do not understand Nature as well as

TOBACCO. G7

we might, although her works are all around
us and we familiarly know her as Nature and
place her in the feminine gender.

It is very misleading.

Let us read again the story of ice invasions
with the intervals of mild temperature, when
forests flourished and great creatures roamed
over the land. We can not even approximately
be certain of the length of time involved in any
one of them. Nature is unhurried. Time, as
we know it, is a moment in her calendar. .

From whence came the protozoa? One great
scientist calmly guesses that it may have
reached us in an aérolite.

However, from this minute but perfect or-
igin, animal life has developed until in the
human species the highest handiwork of cre-
ation appears. During this procession of spe-
cies many have disappeared from the earth.
Some that we know of in modern times have
vanished, or are about to do so.

Within our brief period of history many
nations of mankind have risen and fallen. Here,
as elsewhere, Nature is at work—always, un-
tiringly, systematically at work. The closest
observers of her method in the human sifting
reduced her operations to the law, ‘‘Survival
of the fittest.’’

This we have learned: the further the

78 SUMMER IN A BOG.

physical being departs from Nature the more
liable does it become to annihilation. Fresh
air, pure water, sound sleep, sufficient exer-
cise, proper food and shelter and companion-
ship make the chief requirements for the body.

But Nature super-added to the animal, men-
tal and spiritual qualities.

The human race is, spiritually, an experi-
ment. This wonderful Worker endowed the
race with a power hitherto, so far as we can
judge, withheld from created life. To know
good from evil, to choose the good and refuse
the bad; to imitate the creative power by in-
vention ; to aspire; to have self-control, courage,
self-sacrifice; to be benevolent; to be philan-
thropic; to cultivate the mind and develop the
higher faculties; to study Nature and reduce
her phenomena to science—what a vast and
noble field of occupation lies before the race!
It seems like the most reasonable result of this
high attribute of humanity that they should
recognize their origin and in spirit commune
with the kindred Creator.

This is the case to some extent. Like the
earth at our feet, the race has come out of a
dim past through many changes and trials.

“From the strong will and the endeavor
That forever’’

TOBACCO. 79

spur to achievement and advancement, man-
kind is progressing. The belief in God and im-
mortality have always existed.

And all the while, winnowing and sifting,
Nature is at work.

Where the Run cuts its way through a strip
of land redeemed from the neighboring forest,
a humble cabin shelters an old negro and his
wife. A patch of tobacco grows luxuriantly
in the little enclosure which is the garden.
When the pink blossoms begin to appear, he
tops it. In due time the plants are hung from
poles to dry. This is all visible from the road.
What the further destination of the plant is
can be guessed. :

It is probably: one of the earliest imports
into Europe from the New World. We read
that the French ambassador at the Court of
Portugal brought tobacco into France in the
year 1560, as a valuable medicinal drug. Its
introduction into England was discouraged and
laws passed against its cultivation and import
which are still in existence.

At the time of the settlement of America
by the whites, tobacco was raised by the Indians.
Precisely as the old negro cultivates it to-day
did the aborigine care for this plant, which he
solaced himself with smoking.

80 SUMMER IN A BOG.

So popular did its use become that laws
were passed in the early days of the colonies
forbidding its cultivation to the neglect of food
crops. This feature repeats the same history
at the present day, where some counties on
the Ohio River raise tobacco to the total neglect
of other crops.

The war carried on recently among tobacco
growers to keep the prices up recalls the fact
that, notwithstanding its high price, the poorest
man must have it, though his family should
starve. A large per cent of the nation’s sup-
port comes from the tax on tobacco. Indeed,
the United States has been at great pains to
select and cultivate the best and most popular
varieties of tobacco, making investigations in
other countries in regard to its propagation.
Millionaires dwelling in palatial homes owe
their wealth to profits on this plant and its
products.

Turkey and Persia make large use of to-
bacco.

Let us look a little into the merits and his-
tory of this plant. The Indians were, at the
time of their discovery by Columbus, neither
powerful nor intelligent. They were barbarous
and warlike. They dwindled away in the most
remarkable manner. Discoverers report that
it was the practice among them at that time

TOBACCO. 81

to make war upon each other for the purpose
of capturing children, whom they adopted into
their tribes in order to keep up tribal exist-
ence.

In France, the first country to adopt its use,
nearly a century ago it began to be whispered
that race suicide was taking place. The whis-
per grew to a loud accusation. There was no
explanation given for the phenomenon. It is
also characteristic of this people at the present
day that they are undersized. Their soldiers
especially show this peculiarity. Soldiers are
usually the picked men of a nation in physical
development.

Since then America has had the same charge
of race suicide placed against the wealthier
and older families. Here also it is noticed that
the men are deteriorating in height, thus throw-
ing into apparent prominence the perfection of
physical beauty of the women and the finer
development of certain classes of immigrants
and their descendants.

Women, with few exceptions, have not taken
kindly to tobacco. It is probably owing to this
that the white race has escaped a more speedy
decadence. But how long may this be said?
They are generally the daughters of men who
are its slaves and will, in time, succumb to the
poison inherited in their blood.

6

82 SUMMER IN A BOG.

For tobacco is a poison. Its first symptom
is to render the user ill and nauseated. Even
the smoke in the atmosphere has this effect.
All the lines of travel, the air of the hotels, is
permeated with the noisome fumes of this dis-
gusting weed, so popular among our civilized
and enlightened (?) nations.

The effect of the use of tobacco on the young
is to deteriorate both mind and body. Those
who use it are not as apt pupils as those who
do not. Frequently death results from its use
by boys. But this does not deter the boys of
the land from acquiring the tobacco habit.
They may often be seen sneakingly smoking
cigars, pipes, or cigarettes.

As so many men use tobacco in some form,
boys imagine that it is a sign of manhood, and
hasten to copy their example. This it is which
makes it impossible to control the use of it
among boys. When men begin to govern them-
selves in the use of tobacco there may be some
hope of reaching the boys, but not before.

Among men the ‘‘tobacco heart’’ is preva-
lent. Many are unfit to pass the military test
in consequence. Hallucinations and strange
nervous symptoms accompany its use with
some.

I was once walking with an old man from
the country on a city street. Smoke from a

TOBACCO. 83

cigar reached him. ‘‘How good that smells!’’
he murmured.

‘*Do you not smoke?”’

‘‘Not now. Once I did. But there came a
time—and O! what I suffered! Never again!
Never again!’’ He shook his head with deci-
sion.

At another time it was a man from political
life. :

“‘Twenty years ago,’’ he said, ‘‘I smoked.
My friends presented me with boxes of the
best cigars. Unthinkingly I used them until,
one day, as I sat before the fire smoking, it
occurred to me that my health and nerves were
not as sound as they had been. I had grown
nervous to an uncontrollable degree. Sud-
denly it came into my mind that I had brought
it on by the use of tobacco. I took the cigar
from my lips and threw it on the coals.

“<<Mhere!l’ said I, ‘that is the last tobacco
I shall ever touch!’

“‘T kept my word, too. It was a severe
struggle, but I conquered.’’

Recently we have read of a man who laid
aside the money he had been accustomed to
spend on tobacco, and in the course of not so
very many years he had saved enough to take
a trip around the world. With how much added
zest of mind and body he would enjoy that
trip!

84 SUMMER IN A BOG.

A young man, about to return to his studies
at a New England university, in conversation
with a physician acknowledged that tobacco dis-
agreed with him, but in order to meet his fellow-
students on a common social ground, he had
tried to acquire the habit of smoking.

A clergyman made a similar confession ; and
the physician, adding his testimony as to the
injurious effects of this poison, acknowledged
a sparing use of it as a social concession.
Slaves, every one, where they might be apostles
of freedom!

A lack of moral stamina, an absence of the
virile qualities which make strong, ambitious
men, is noticeable among those addicted to the
use of tobacco.

The heads of business houses remark on
the scarcity of reliable, able young men to fill
the positions of trust and leadership.

Lately a new charge is heard: that a dullness
of the moral sense is apparent. People are
growing to be more lenient and indulgent
toward sin and sinners, probably because so
many of them have near relatives who are the
delinquents. Penitentiaries are populous with
embezzlers from banks and other places of pub-
lic trust. Bribery is common. The men who
so little regard the badge of citizenship as to
sell their vote increase on all sides. In courts

TOBACCO. 85

of justice their conviction is next to impossible
because of perjury and lying.

The cities are full of loiterers, idling their
lives away, cigar-in-mouth. Even the candi-
dates for the highest positions in the gift of
the people are pictured in the shameful pose
of cigar-in-mouth in the daily papers. Are the
enlightened nations of the earth rotten to the
core with tobacco?

It is not from the ranks of the tobacco users
that our leading statesmen come. It is from
the pure air of the country, from the hearth
of the farmer where temperance, honesty, and
economy are practiced, in order that learning
may have fitting opportunity. These men too
often, when brought in contact with the social
mill, adopt the habits of the new environment,
forgetful of the fact that it was their freedom
from such grossness that fitted them for the
rank of leaders. Had these men the strength
of character to maintain their native purity,
what aid it would give to the social reformers,
who find the work of protecting the young so
difficult !

There was a time within the remembrance
of many—and J fancied the time had not yet
ceased—when men did not smoke in the com-
pany of women without asking permission.
Now, I have heard the mothers of young women

86 SUMMER IN A BOG.

complain, the young men do not ask permis-
sion, but puff their tobacco smoke anywhere,
like boors.

Often the young women claim to like it.
Sometimes they also smoke cigarettes, but thus
far, Iam thankful to say, I have seen very little
of it. Yet a baleful sign of the times is the
fact that popular novels are admitted to circu-
lation in our public libraries wherein the smok-
ing of cigarettes is one of the features of the
heroine’s boudoir life.

I know of nothing more revolting in civilized
public life than the sight of a boy, youth, or
man, in health and the alleged use of his mind,
indulging in the use of tobacco or any other
drug. .

Stimulants, narcotics, and sedatives are for
the sick and feeble, and in time of stress and
unusual effort, for the worker, the watcher.
But for the everyday life of humanity it is wise
to let such things alone.

If there is any consolation in the weed, leave
it to the old, the decrepit. The glory of the
young man is his strength, not of hody alone,
but of mind and the ability to maintain self-
control.

The glory of woman is her purity and ability
to transmit a sane mind in a sane body to
her offspring. It is discouraging to contem-

TOBACCO. 87

plate the future of the human race if some
means is not taken to secure this inheritance
to posterity.

From certain departments of labor and busi-
ness the man who uses tobacco is debarred.
It is time that he should be excluded from the
school and college. Above all, he should be
excluded by the mother of marriageable daugh-
ters from the privilege of their society in the
home. This sounds mighty drastic, I am aware,
but there is no greater business in the world
than the production of the next generation.
When the study of eugenics is taken up in the
schools, the future mother should be impressed
with the importance of giving her child the best
chance possible. When women come into their
rightful heritage as co-workers with man in
making and executing laws, we may look for
many improvements in the human race. But
these must have their foundation in the family
life. This sentence should be inscribed in the
heart of the wife and mother: ‘‘Every wise
woman buildeth her house, but a fool teareth
it down with her hands.’’

I knew a large family of girls whose mother
forbade social entrance to the home of any man
who used intoxicating liquors. Not one of them
married a drunkard. In those days tobacco was
not regarded as the harmful poison which we

88 SUMMER IN A BOG.

have come to know it, or she might as easily
have included it in the interdict. Let the mod-
ern mother and daughter begin the crusade
against this curse of the human race and so
do what their influence may accomplish to cor-
rect a popular evil.

It is a hopeful sign of future improvement
in the human race that the God of nations is
bringing up for the work a new contingent in
the political field—the women. The forces of
evil have set themselves to resist this progress,
even hoodwinking some of the less intelligent
women to join them in their anti-suffrage war,
but let no one be deceived. The contest is be-
tween Right and Wrong. Let every man and
woman choose which to serve.

Some poisons—opium, for instance—which
are speedy in effect and promptly baleful in
their influence, however attractive to the vic-
tim, sound their own knell to the general public,
and governments enforce laws against their mis-
use; but tobacco is fostered, encouraged, ac-
cepted by men.

When churches and physicians entertain
men with ‘‘smokers,’’ what show is there for
reformation? I recall an incident. When I
was abroad I chanced to mention how much I
suffered from the disagreeable fumes of to-
bacco. A Church of England clergyman told

TOBACCO. 89

me that-he could give me a remedy: take a dose
of brandy, and all unpleasant symptoms will
disappear. Precisely! They go hand-in-hand
together, alcohol and tobacco. It is well that
the fight against one of these is on; for Nature,
when she gifted us with a knowledge of good
and evil, did not omit to provide a moral back-
bone, if we choose to use it.

A professor in an Eastern college announces
that women are inferior to men because they
are less sophisticated than man and so much
nearer to Nature in their organization and
habits. He had tobacco in mind, probably.
Never has woman received a higher compliment.

Nature is a manifestation of God. ‘‘Ye are
the temple of God.’’ ‘‘If any man defile the
temple of God, him shall God destroy.’’

90

SUMMER IN A BOG.

THE WOMAN BOTANIST.

ALWAYS a Voice is éalling
In the city’s roar and clangor,
Or the silence of the room;
- Now with tender message pleading,
Or, again, with loud insistence
When the world is all abloom.

*T is the voice of the lone wild-wood,
Of the forests man-forsaken,
Of the meadows flower-gemmed ;
Of the streams that murmur softly
O’er the white and shining pebbles,
’T ween the banks with sedges hemmed.

"Tis the voice of Mother Nature,

From her cool and dim recesses,
In the places undefiled.

O, I hunger for the woodland,

And I hear her, and I answer,
And I seek her, I her child!

THE WOMAN BOTANIST. 91

Tuere is this advantage in being an amateur:
one may break into verse if so inclined. A
technologist or professor is not supposed to
have any such inclinations.

The true botanist is born, not made—as you
may have heard in regard to specialists in other
fields. When, as a child, she sought the woods
on holidays, bringing back the precious spoil
of flower, fern, and sedge, the woman who would
desire to name and classify was foreshadowed.

What is it for a woman to be a botanist?
With maternal, domestic, or social duties, to
say nothing of literary, if she incline that way,
and each an occupation in itself, how shall she
find opportunity to cultivate acquaintance with
Nature and reduce her observations to a sci-
ence?

She will do it because she was born to do it;
because within her is the heaven-imparted kin-
ship with Nature which is the open sesame to
that kingdom of delight. But she will do it
under difficulties.

‘“‘Who is it goes ’round the woods and
’round the roads and leaves a rag on every
bush?’’ asks the facetious riddler. The an-
swer is not ‘‘The snow,’’ but, ‘‘The woman
botanist.’’? Let them have their fun; there is
no truth in this, I assure you.

Yet she is no respecter of good clothes. One

92 SUMMER IN A BOG.

day she will go ‘‘calling’’ on her country
friends, dressed in ‘‘best bib and tucker,’’ quite
determined to conduct herself like an ordinary
Christian, to that end abstemiously leaving her
vasculum at home; yet she will come back with
her hat awry, her hair flying in strands and
tangled up with bits of branch and leaf, her
best lace handkerchief lost—she went back and
found it in a roadside ditch—her fine mull gown
with zig-zag tears in the front breadth, her
sleeve torn up half its length—but radiantly
happy and totally impervious to reproof. And
why? Because in that sheaf of spoil she car-
ries there are specimens of the wild flowers
never before seen by her.

She will take impromptu Turkish baths in
an attic, heated under its slate roof by the sum-
mer sun to the temperature of an enameling
oven, or thereabout, while placing her speci-
mens in press or changing the papers during
the drying process. She will litter her vacant
rooms with all manner of plant débris, though
otherwise an immaculate housekeeper. Under
the atlas and dictionary you will find her treas-
ures, and she will contrive to invest them with
a romantic and sensational personality almost
astounding to her family, who, nevertheless, in
their moments of disillusion and impatience,
sometimes rail and scoff.

THE WOMAN BOTANIST. 93

She may be said to lead a double life, if
doing twice as much as an ordinary woman is
a scale of measure of her achievements.

‘‘Ah!”’ you say, ‘‘this is not the lady we
know, who is an M. Se. or Ph. D., and who
calmly works in a laboratory, unharassed by
household cares or maternal duty.”’

It is an extreme case, of course, but I am
glad to quote it, since it shows conclusively
that women may be imbued with a love of sci-
ence for its own sake, and pursue it in spite
of obstacles. The qualities of mind are similar
in the sexes. We reap what we sow: twaddle
and tittle-tattle in the one, aggressive war and
crime in the other, under suitable culture, or
a high standard of personal responsibility in
both, if we so demand.

But while the road to scientific attainment
is for the ma man broad and well-paved through
centuries of use, there is generally for woman,

—. ae nuns

when she dares to walk therein, a look askance
and a cold reception. But she will not mind
that greatly—the woman who truly loves Na-
ture. She will be instant in season and out
of season, and it need not discourage her if
her devoted friends arrive at the conclusion that
it is the latter.

Disappointments, discouragements, adversi-
ties constitute food for hardy natures, and no

other need attempt the road of science.

94 SUMMER IN A BOG.

When taking her rides abroad in company
with unsympathetic companions, collecting,
what had at first been conceded to her as a
hobby of possibly brief duration, like any other
fad, by reason of prolonged and persistent con-
tinuance, became burdensome; and finally, ob-
jection was not unfrequently made to stopping
for botanical acquisition. In this emergency,
and after being summarily whisked by coveted
treasures, a new expedient suggested itself.

Gloves and hand-bags had mysterious ways
of falling over the wheel into the road in near
proximity to new and attractive weeds: in get-
ting out to recover the one, she audaciously
insisted on securing the other. Her soul is still
harrowed by recollections of a much-desired
specimen, dimly identified at a moment when
nothing was at hand to drop—her hat being
the only article possible to so use, and it tightly,
alas! pinned to her hair. What a pity that
heads could not be conveniently tipped off on
such interesting occasions! And that specimen
has never been seen since, and is still absent
from her collection.

Too soon, however, the boys caught on to
these tricks, and openly accused her of them,
on the last occasion of the perpetration of the
deception, riding defiantly away and telling her
she could walk into town by herself. This she

THE WOMAN BOTANIST. 95

serenely proceeded to do, but was shortly met
by the repentant though sulky driver, who, how-
ever much he might desire to bring her up in
the way in which he thought she ought to go,
doubtless had compunctions of shame about
having strangers see his only mother walking
along the dusty road like a common tramp,
she not in the least appearing to care.

The social doings of her own sex lose some-
thing of their attractiveness to the woman who
botanizes. An afternoon reception is on her
tablet for the day, and if she has a new gown
she dons it, feeling its strangeness, perhaps
conscious that she is an object of observation.
Or, having nothing new in her wardrobe, she
spends valuable time in looking discontentedly
over the old apparel, finally selecting something
that ‘‘came out of the ark.”’’

She attends the social function: is probably
invited to partake of food for which she has
no need; talks on topics in which she has not
the slightest interest (but so ‘‘safe!’’) to per-
sons who in no way attract her, and comes
away, hoping to goodness, that she has not
said anything which will hurt any one’s feel-
ings.

Perhaps her companions indulge in post-
prandial ridicule of the hostess or guests—it
is horrible, the liberty some persons give

96 SUMMER IN A BOG.

themselves: they could ridicule the angels in
heaven!

How different is an afternoon in the woods
and fields! Let us hasten thither, for the time
passes so quickly.

It is spring, and the fresh grass is sprinkled
with buttercups and spring-beauties. How di-
vine are the violets! Or the phlox fills the
spaces with a misty flush.

June! O love and roses and the fullness of
life!—ean we ask any more? Kind Heaven,
how good to all created! Let us lie full-length,
with faces in the grass, and hear the stream
ripple and sing over its rocky bed.

If it is autumn, a thousand hands reach out
to grasp and hold us.

And the refreshments? A twig of sassafras
takes us back into childhood; or the golden-
brown, wrinkled berry of a May-apple. A rose-
haw touched by the frost, or an amber ground-
cherry, in its withered, bladdery calyx-cup,
cheers and inebriates with the exhilaration of
new-found old delights. ‘‘Mary, did you ever
taste a leaf of the lady’s-thumb?’’ and you
trick her into it. O, don’t mention pepper
after that!

The sun sinks low, and we must hasten
home. No one has had a thought of the clothes
she wore; only of those she has seen, surpass-

WOMEN BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 97

ing the glory of Solomon. If the plant-people
ay criticised, there has been no consciousness
of it.

But the blood courses through the veins
more healthfully. How bright and good and
sweet a thing the world is after all! Ah! we
have been in the Presence. Heaven seems so
near. We will live worthy of it. We will love
and help each other and be kind and true, keep-
ing high faith with all the hearts that trust us!

October, 1900.

Not alone because of what the women of Ohio
have done in the botanical work of the State,
but that they may be encouraged to greater
accomplishment therein, is this written.

The fame of many a woman in the past
has been merged in that of her husband or
other male relative, and history fails to give
her any credit. The false sentimentalism,
amounting to a dogma with some, that a woman
should not wish to see her name in print, is
scarcely outlived, but we are getting along, as
the world grows, toward a basis of independent
personal responsibility.

Tn any case, there is nothing more delightful
to a true woman than to help somebody to
further a humane and beneficial cause. In a

7

98 SUMMER IN A BOG.

work of this kind her highest nature revels,
expands, and bursts into blossom. It is an
adorable quality, therefore let us recognize it.
With it she exalts the race. But it must be
stamped in the mint of golden coin and made
a standard of human obligation if the world
is to gain the full benefit of it.

Ohio has had her share of women who have
aided relatives in scientific work. It was the
wife of William Sullivant, the noted Ohio bot-
anist, who first found the flower which is known
as the Sazifrage Sullivantia, and brought it to
his attention. Finding no mention of it in his
books, it was sent to Asa Gray for identifica-
tion. He immediately recognized it as a new
addition to the Genus Sawifragaceae, and was
named by him in honor of its discoverer. In
Green Lawn Cemetery, Columbus, Ohio, where
she is buried, there is a bust of Mrs. William
Sullivant which bears a wreath of this graceful
flower sculptured across the bosom.

Miss Josephine Klippart aided her father,
when State agriculturist, with her skill in draw-
ing. The fine paintings of the Buckeye and the
Dogwood in the botanical department of the
Ohio State University illustrate her taste and
artistic ability. In faithfulness to nature these
plant portraits could not be excelled, having
wonderful accuracy of detail.

WOMEN BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 99

Mrs. Wormley acquired the art of engrav-
ing that she might assist her husband in his
scientific pursuits.

Dr. W. A. Kellerman, botanist of the Ohio
State University, in the Preface to his ‘‘Ele-
ments of Botany,’’ acknowledges the assistance
of his wife. The botanical work, and especially
the scientific articles by Mrs. Kellerman, place
her in the foremost rank of Ohio botanists. She
has assisted in her husband’s work, including
nearly all.of his publications, and been a con-
stant contributor for several years to period-
icals devoted to natural science.

Mrs. Sarah S. James was the assistant of
her husband, Prof. Joseph James, in his botan-
ical labors.

Mrs. Laura Morgan, of Preston, Ohio, is, as
well as her husband, a noted authority on
Fungi. She has made a fine collection—her-
barium, we may call it—of paintings of the
higher fungi, probably the largest and best of
the kind in the world, and of rare scientific
value. Her work in plant portraiture and
botanical acquirements is commemorated in the
scientific name of an interesting wild Ohio
mushroom, the Hygrophorus Laurae.

Miss Hannah J. Biddlecome has done an
invaluable service to science by making known
to the botanists the rich flora of mosses and

100 SUMMER IN A BOG.

liverworts of Ohio. When living in Spring-
field, she industriously collected and carefully
studied the tiny bryophites of Cedar Swamp,
Clifton Gorge, and vicinity. Some rare plants
she brought to light, and discovered several
new species, one of which was named in her
honor, T'richocolea Biddlecomei.

Mrs. E. J. Spence, of Springfield, ought to
be mentioned in the same connection. She and
Miss Biddlecome were constant companions in
this delightful and useful work. Mrs. Spence
devoted herself, as well, to the flowering plants,
and the State herbarium at the university con-
tains several hundred specimens that testify to
her botanical activity.

Special mention is also deserved on the part
of Mrs. E. W. Claypoole, now-of California,
who, during her long residence in Ohio, worked
constantly with her husband, both at Yellow
Springs and Akron. Botany was a field of
enticing interest to her, and she did much
toward making the Ohio flora known and ap-
preciated at home and abroad. She has con-
tributed some botanical articles to magazines.
Her love of nature is inherited by her two
daughters, both of whom are now instructors
in Cornell University.

Mrs. Sara F.- Goodrich, Mrs. Theano W.
Case, Miss E. J. Phillips, Miss Hulda Hoff-

WOMEN BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 101

man, Ruth E. Brockett, Cora McFadden, Lizzie
Davis, Florence Tuckerman, Ella Keeler, Ada
G. Wing, and the writer, contributed to the
collection of the State flora.

Probably others assisted in this State-wide
study of the flora of Ohio whose names have
been overlooked. It was a beneficent and popu-
lar method of securing attention to a science
too much neglected by women, as the above
brief list proves.

There are many who might adopt the study
if they would. Pedestrian rambles are very
popular, and with this object in view, increas-
ingly delightful. Many have their own convey-
ances, bicycle riding is general, and the inter-
urban lines yearly increasing in number.

The espionage of the vegetable kingdom
thus established, it can not fail that data will
be furnished which will prove useful to the
economics of the Nation. The plants furnish-
ing material for food, medicine, clothing, etc.,
will be brought into general notice, while un-
desirable or noxious weeds may be prevented
from spreading.

In this work the co-operation of the farmer
is needful, and intelligence in regard to the
botany of his locality most desirable. Here
the farmer’s wife and daughter may lend their
aid. For women this knowledge has increasing

102 SUMMER IN A BOG.

value, and many a woman, all over the civilized
world, is turning her attention to special
branches of agriculture. Indeed, among the
employments suggested for women at a recent
woman’s congress was agriculture.

Woman has an originality of observation
to her credit.

Constant vigilance is the price of freedom
from unwelcome vegetable tramps. Roads are
narrowly fenced, and laws passed to restrain
the gypsy squatter and horse-trader from loit-
ering along the way and encroaching upon the
comfort and health of the tiller of the soil and
his herds, but the tramp seeds which come in
foreign grains would gain permanent hold if
stringent measures were not used to restrain
them. Boards of Health exist for the preven-
tion and isolation of diseases; so, in like man-
ner, do police and detective forces exist for pro-
tection against the immoral and dishonest
classes. Religious, educational, and moral or-
ganizations exist for the uplifting of the people
to higher spiritual, intellectual, and ethical
standards.

In the vegetable world all these forces are
represented in the botanical and agricultural
institutions, and the need of wide co-operation
is not sufficiently recognized.

There are beneficial plants to be introduced

WOMEN BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 103

into new localities, thus increasing the economic
value of the land. While men on farms may be
too busy for the task, the women in towns and
villages may readily take up the work of rep-
resenting the flora of their vicinity in the State
botanical building. She who commences as a
mere collector will in all probability develop
into a student.

Especially should women be interested in
this subject, since it is becoming daily of more
importance in the avocations of their sex. The
Countess of Warwick has classes of women
training in floriculture and the production of
berries. Women who are college graduates are
making good livings in this department. The
culture of flowers for perfumery and extracts
is almost unknown, but might readily be un-
dertaken by propertly instructed women. In-
deed, the very latest from this field is that a
woman utilizes the production of mints in
swamps for this purpose, making a comfort-
able income, and that farmers are installing
stills for the extraction of the essence of mints,
which they cultivate by the acre in soils espe-
cially adapted to the growth.

The ravages of insect pests and the scale
call for increased vigilance over the vegetable
kingdom, in which women may take a part.

Elizabeth Christina, daughter of Linneus,

104 SUMMER IN A BOG.

was the first naturalist to observe the electrical
sparks to be drawn from the nasturtium—in
particular, the orange and yellow colored blos-
soms—and the inflammability of the exhala-
tions of certain plants. One of the most im-
portant discoveries of modern times, radium,
was made by Madame Curie while assisting her
husband in scientific work. Though rare, one
never knows how near may lie such rewards of
patient research.
1900.

Nots.—Since the foregoing article was printed—
in the Columbus Dispatch—twelve years ago, impor-
tant economical changes have taken place, not the
least of which is the high cost of living.

The tide of humanity drifting into the cities
from foreign lands and from the farms, caus-
ing an increase of consumers and a dearth of
laborers for the production of the food sup-
ply, is a serious problem. That it is receiving
beneficial solution is proved by the fact that
the immigrants are steered from the cities to
the lands where laborers are most needed and
that the study of agriculture is receiving in-
creased attention in the schools.

Louise Klein Miller, curator of school gar-
dens in Cleveland, is carrying on a work which
must result in increased knowledge and inter-

WOMEN BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 105

est and the development of ability for agri-
culture.

Near one school building I noticed a prac-
tical example, where a portion of a vacant lot
had been used by pupils for the cultivation of
a variety of flowers and vegetables. Various
uncommon trees and shrubs ornamented the
grounds about the school. I was told that these
were in time to be labeled—a very important
part of their usefulness in public instruc-
tion.

This lady also writes extensively for the
newspapers and gives lectures on botanical sub-
jects, greatly to the advantage of this beau-
tiful city and the increased intelligence of its
people. Miss Harriet Keeler is similarly oc-
cupied.

The vast sums bestowed in the endowment
of universities and libraries might well be
shared in promoting improved methods and
opportunities in farming. It is in the right
direction that the Government is offering
prizes, not only to boys in the Corn Clubs,
but to girls in the Tomato Clubs of South
Carolina.

Intensive farming will furnish a measure
of relief from high cost of living. Through
increased agricultural knowledge the thrifty
householder may raise in his little garden many

106 SUMMER IN A BOG.

of the vegetables needed on his table. The
farmer or his children may make money on
market produce.

In Stark County and in and around Canton
I observed this style of farming in successful
operation. And this brings us back to the
reclamation of the bogs and their disappear-
ance from the haunts of the botanist.

Swamps which are irreclaimable by drain-
age are, in China, cultivated as ‘‘water-gar-
dens,’’ producing a succession of valuable food
crops from plants especially adapted to aquatic
culture. In time the American agriculturist
may attain this knowledge, and the useless
swamp will become a valuable asset.

The following extract from a letter from
Mrs. Theano W. Case, of Canton, gives insight
in a few sentences to a most interesting portion
of the State:

“It is ten years since I went much into the
swamps, so it might be misleading to say certain
things grow here now, because I do not know that
they have escaped the roadways and the vegetable
gardens that have nearly annihilated our delightful
wild flower gardens.

‘“We have the Pitcher-plant; the fringed gentian
grew in great quantities on the banks of the stream
flowing through Canton; also the closed gentian.

‘“‘We have the Arisaema dracontium (green

WOMEN BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 107

dragon) and Peltradra Virginica (green arrow-
arum). We had Habenaria hyperborea (tall, leafy,
green orchis) ; the plant is described by Gray. It be-
longs to the far North, but the ‘terminal moraine’ runs
south of us, and we have—or had—several ‘far north-
ern’ plants, such as Linnea borealis (twin-flower),
Chiogenes serpyllifolia (creeping snowberry), Utri-
cularia gibba (humped bladderwort), Cypripedium
regine (showy ladies’ slipper), C. candidum (small
white ladies’ slipper) ; C. parviflorum (small yellow
ladies’ slipper) ; C. acaule (Moccasin flower; stemless
~ ladies’ slipper).

‘‘There was a rubbish heap near a railroad upon
which, for years, grew Gaura parviflora (small-
flowered gaura). Gray does not mention its being
found east of the Mississippi.

‘‘Andromeda polifolia (wild rosemary) grew
rather abundantly in our swamps at Myer’s Lake,
two and one-half miles from Canton. It is a northern
shrub, rare here. Arbutus formerly grew here, but
now we have to go twelve miles for it.

‘“‘The swamps close to Canton are rapidly being
made into celery fields.’’

And since the partial failure of this crop in
the severe winter of 1911-12, onion culture has
been added. This bulb has attained wonderful
success in the Scioto bottoms or ‘‘black lands’’
in recent years.

On the water-shed of this portion of the
State, where the heights drained are not great,

108 SUMMER IN A BOG.

should the depressions be clay-lined, the ac-
cumulating water forms lakes, which are known
to the geologist frequently as kettle-holes.

These lakes have become popular summer
resorts of neighboring cities and towns. They
may, in time, follow the fate of others of their
kind, which have been filled with peat and marl.
The chara foetida takes possession of the slow-
moving streams and small bodies of fresh
water, requiring constant dispossession if the
channel is to be kept clear.

Situated between Navarre Street on the
north and Fairfield Avenue on the south (in
Canton) is a wonderfully valuable—to the bot-
anist—strip of swamp, through which runs
Nimishillin Creek. An effort is at present be-
ing made by Mrs. Case and other friends of
nature to save it from the encroachments of
the manufacturer and reserve it to the city as a
Nature park.

Originally a tamarack forest, as these trees
disappeared the sphagnum and pitcher-plants
(Saracenia purpurea) went along. Still a
wealth of rare flore remains. It was in the
early part of the month of August that Mrs.
Case introduced me to this interesting spot.
It lies immediately below a line of houses and
appears to have. been considered a suitable
catch-all in disposing of rubbish in house-clean-

WOMEN BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 109

ing times, as one has to stumble over old cans
and broken crockery—kindly covered by the
summer with a mantle of vines—before reach-
ing the moist lowlands. It is not surprising
that its friends are anxious to rescue this bog
from such a fate.

In spring the False Asphodel (Tofieldia
glutinosa), Red Wood Lily (Lilium Philadel-
phicum), Blazing Star (Chamaelirium luteum),
and others mentioned above are found here,
with hundreds of others more commonly seen.

Almost the first thing I noticed was the
wide carpeting of Grass of Parnassus maturing
for bloom. Zygadenus and Ornithogalum were
still in bloom. Poison Sumac was seen, and the
Cranberry. Looking close to the ground, the
Sundew (Drosera rotundifolia) spread its rusty
coloring. Every tiny hair of the fringe of
glands bore a drop of dewy secretion which
glistened in the sun and threw out attractive
lure to the insect life, which is thus captured
to nourish this curious plant.

No attempt can here be made to mention
all the species of plant life here seen, but the
surprise and pleasure afforded by a wide space
covered by the brilliant spikes of Gay Feather
(Lacinaria spicata) must not be forgotten.

My companion informed me that Mr. Ed-
ward 8. Steele, a botanist of Washington, D. C.,

110 SUMMER IN A BOG.

who has written an article giving a plea for
this precious swamp, has here discovered a
number of plants whose environment had de-
veloped characteristics which called for new
names. Among these is one of the Hypoxis hir-
suta, which may be a distinct variety.

Mrs. Case is also a student of Mycology and
is at present engaged in making a collection of
the fungi found in her vicinity, of which she
makes painted copies. Over one hundred spe-
cies are represented in her illustrations.

Other names of women who are devoting
all or a portion of their time to natural science
have appeared in recent times.

Miss Clara G. Mark, of O. 8. U., is especially
interested in Bryology and Geology. Miss
M’Elroy is pursuing post-graduate work in
Botany. Clara A. Davies, Dora E. Johnson,
Rose Gormley, Susan P. Nichols are mentioned
among women interested in this study.

Miss Freda Detmers, Ph. D., Assistant Bot-
anist of the Botanical Department of Ohio State
University, is the author of a number of articles
on botanical subjects contributed to scientific
periodicals. She has done valuable research
work for a number of years.

‘‘A Physiographic Study of Buckeye Lake
and Vicinity,’’ in the May number of The Ohio
Naturalist, by Dr. Detmers, is very interest-

WOMEN BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 111

ing, carrying the reader into the glacial epoch
and pre-glacial remains.

“That this swamp,’’ she writes, ‘‘which was
known as the ‘Big Swamp,’ dates from early post-
Wisconsin time is shown by the presence of a cran-
berry-sphagnum bog which still exists in Buckeye
Lake. This bog, locally known as the Cranberry
Marsh, lies in the eastern part of the lake, close to
and parallel with the north shore. . . . The vege-
tation is of peculiar interest; for it consists of typical
bog plants characteristic to-day of high temperature
latitudes and generally accepted to be relies of early
post-glacial times, stranded and persisting, and now
surrounded by the normal vegetation of the present
climatic conditions.

“The typical bog plants are several species of
Sphagnum, the Cranberry (Oxycoccus macrocarpus),
the Sundew (Drosera rotundifolia), several species
of bog sedges, as Carex limosa, and C. filiformis, the
Buckbean (Menyanthes triloba), and Scheuchzeria
palustris, forming a bog-meadow bordered by a zone
of bog-shrubs, of which the Poison Sumac (Rhus
vernix), the Black Alder (Ilex verticillata), and the
Choke Berry (Aronia arbutifolia and A. nigra), are
the most characteristic.’’ °

Miss Detmers further relates how this
Sphagnum Bog was separated from the main
land and floats, an important link in the study
of the earth’s history.

112 SUMMER IN A BOG.

This article, under the title, ‘‘An Ecological
Study of Buckeye Lake,’’ illustrated and at
greater length, appears in the ‘‘ Proceedings of
the Ohio Academy of Science,’’ in pamphlet
form, a valuable addition to the student’s
sources of instruction which should be placed
in every college and high school in Ohio, at
least.

There are National flowers and State flowers
by selection. Towns and cities also have a
prevalent flower, either native or adopted. The
city of Buffalo, N. Y., has the Marguerite or
white, ox-eye daisy. It pervades the streets
and suburbs, trailing off into the country. It
has become such a pest to the farmer that they
have a stringent law against it.

In St. Louis, Mo., the hoary vervain, with
soft, velvety leaves, pervades the vacant lots
and waste places.

Cleyeland has the Saponaria, or Bouncing
Bet. It is a fresh, pink-and-white, decorative
flower, growing everywhere. The little children
love it; they will stop in their play to gather
a bunch. I often did the same thing myself.
It covers the cinder banks along the railroad at
the entrance into the city. It is on the side
walks and in the parks.

I do not know of any flower more prevalent
in my own home town, London, O., than the

WOMEN BOTANISTS OF OHIO. = 113

dandelion. It is an all-the-year-round flower.
Give it a day or two of sunshine and warmth
after a thaw, any time during the winter, and
it comes with a smile in the sod of the lawn
and looks at other smiling faces of its kin-
dred.

It is beautiful to look at in the spring when
the grass is so green, but it is not a welcome
guest. It, too, has taken possession of the
fields on the edge of town. The sod of Eng-
land is not troubled with it as is that of this
country. But the lesser celandine is in its place.
I wonder which is the worse, or if either is in
reality harmful? -

Along the railroads in May and June the
wild strawberry has taken possession of the
banks, furnishing a luxuriant crop of fruit to
any who may see fit to gather it. This is a
plant entirely beneficial in every respect. The
roots bind the soil, the leaves make a thick
carpet which prevents its washing away and
the fruit is a blessing to the gatherer.

But there are other plants along the roads
which are gaining great headway and taking
possession of orchards and fields to the detri-
ment of the land and the future expenditure
of labor in ridding the soil of them. Among
these are the wild carrot, the horse nettle, the

8

114 SUMMER IN A BOG.

yarrow, and others, according to the locality.
The Experiment Station at Wooster sends out
bulletins of warning against these pests which
should be carefully heeded.

Not infrequently mention is made in the
newspapers of cases of sickness and death re-
sulting from the use of buckwheat flour. As
buckwheat—Fagopyrum—is a valuable and nu-
tritious grain, the cause of the poisonous ef-
fects must be looked for in some admixture
with a foreign substance.

Ripening about the same time of year as
the buckwheat is a plant which may escape the
observation of the farmer who is not posted
in regard to its dangerous qualities. This is
Lobelia inflata, commonly known as Indian To-
bacco. It is a simple, harmless-looking weed,
from six to eighteen inches high, with pale
blue or lavender flowers, the calyx of which be-
comes swollen with the numerous seeds which
it produces, small, shining, black bodies, the
effect of which, taken internally, is to produce
nausea and death.

Farmers and those reaping the field of buck-
wheat should be on the lookout for this dan-
gerous enemy of human life. Special instruc-
tion in regard to it should be given in schools
and agricultural classes.

AN APPLICANT FOR ADMISSION. 115

An event happened.

I had been meditating on the subject of
‘‘Character in Plants,’’ especially on the fan-
cied resemblance to reptilian qualities of cer-
tain plants as exhibited in the drying process
while in press. The Arisaema dracontium and
related species were chiefly in mind, marveling
how long the curling of the sensitive leaves con-
tinued when the pressure was removed, and
even when separated from the nourishing root.
It reminded of the gruesome quivering of the
flesh of frogs and turtles, presumably dead.

Hurrying around the north side of the house
in the June twilight, I stumbled over some-
thing, entangling my feet like a piece of wire,
and made some remarks of an uncomplimentary
nature on the carelessness of boys. Returning
to the spot on the following morning, to gather
it out of the way, the ‘‘wire’’ was found to be
a growing one. Taking its several yards of
length from the ground, it curled, writhed, and
slid from the fingers like a very snake. This
resemblance was further accentuated by the
terminal buds and the developing leaves, a few
inches below, which were much like the pectoral
fins of an eel.

The location of the plant in the garden, be-
low the dining-room windows, gave full op-
portunity for the observation which speedily

116, SUMMER IN A BOG.

was bestowed upon the stranger. At first it
was supposed to be the ipomea pandurata, as
the leaves bore some resemblance to those of
that vine, save in arrangement, for that of the
stranger’s was variable, being solitary, oppo-
site, triple, quadruple, etc., at the nodes.

However, when the blossoms appeared the
doubt was settled. The clustered two or three-
inch-long racemes of minute greenish flowers
pointed in a new direction. The works on bot-
any available had no mention of it; and, after
much search in books and inquiry in a variety
of directions, its true identity was gained: the
Dioscorea bulbifera.

At the bases of the leaves, soon after the
blossoms withered, small round bodies ap-
peared, which became brown at maturity and
varied in size from a pea to a hazel nut. Some
of these, after falling off, were planted in flower
pots for future observation.

At the same time some of these bodies were
sent to national headquarters with portions
of the vine, leaves, and flowers, for further
identification. In due time the reply came: the
Dioscorea bulbifera. ‘‘The small, round bod-
ies,’’ concluded the report, ‘‘are galls, caused
by the sting of insects.’’

On cutting a number of these ‘‘galls’’ open,
no trace of insect life was discoverable, but for

AN APPLICANT FOR ADMISSION. 117

a time everything was satisfactory, and a smile
of self-derision accompanied the remembrance
of the galls planted in the pots.

However, when the next spring came and
some characteristic leaves sprang up in the pots
and were found to proceed from the ‘‘galls,’’
the smile grew to hilarity, so glad was I to find
that in point of lack of knowledge one often has
good company. Thus interest in the new-comer
continued.

Year after year the long, naked stem ap-
pears, clothed at length with glossy leaves,
among which no insect pests have ever been
observed. An ambitious climber, if support is
furnished, it will reach the second and third
story of the house. When the blossoms appear
the cool summer morning is scented from them
with a delicate odor of cinnamon, and from this
characteristic the name, Cinnamon Vine, is
given by the horticulturist, who sells little
packages of.the bulblets to his patrons.

It is now more than ten years since observa-
tion of this plant began. Its root, the wild yam,
is deeply buried in the ground, beyond the biting
frost. Although it is not indigenous to the
northern United States, and was not accounted
hardy in that latitude, after a winter when the
thermometer showed ten to fourteen degrees
below zero I have seen bulblets which lay. ex-

118 SUMMER IN A BOG.

posed on the ground germinate in the spring.
I call that hardy.

Nature, which seems to resolve herself into
one dominant instinct to perpetuate—to multi-
ply and replenish the earth—has wonderful
methods of accommodating her productions to
their environments.

The depth in the ground which the root
seeks, placing it beyond the reach of the se-
verest cold, classes this vine with the ipomea
(‘‘man-of-the-earth’’) which is one of the great-
est pests of the farm. The acquired hardiness
of the bulblets calls for a word of caution as to
their disposal in the fall. Like the seeds of
other cultivated plants which take kindly to the
wild state, the morning-glory, the ‘‘lace-plant,’’
or wild carrot, and others, they should be care-
fully burned. Here is a good place to apply the
ounce of prevention. If carried with other
refuse into the country it is certain to spread.

While pursuing my inquiries in regard to
this plant, a curious reply was received from
a botanist as to its classification. The letter
has this remark:

“‘T must say that I do not know whether it should
go into the State Flora or not. It does not seem to
seed at all, and is not able to spread beyond the gar-
den in which it was originally planted.’’

THE SEPTARIA. 119

That seems very odd, since the bulblets are
plainly the seed. They may be improper from
a methodical botanist’s point of classification,
but they produce the next generation of plants.
The plant is here to stay, an “fugly duckling’’
in a well-ordered family perhaps, but all the
more interesting from its peculiarity. It should
be described in works on botany, so that others,
when they find it as I did, may not have so much
difficulty in placing it.

So the Dioscorea bulbifera, acclimated to
the northern part of the United States, knocks
for admission to Britton and Brown’s ‘‘Illus-
trated Flora of the Northern United States and
Canada.’’ .

1900.

THE SEPTARIA.

Asout eleven miles north of Columbus, Ohio,
the level country gives place to hills and forms
a tract of such surpassing beauty, so rich in
geological and botanical specimens, as to cause
the wish that the Government would set it apart
as a park to perpetuate to future generations
a sample of the original loveliness of creation.

A short distance from the little town of
Flint the meadow sweeps down to a tiny stream,
known in the neighborhood as ‘‘the Branch,’’

120 SUMMER IN A BOG.

and at this point, beyond its shallow bed, a pic-
turesque wooded hill rises abruptly to the right.

Passing the narrow footpath leading to the
almost precipitous summit, and continuing
along the bank of the stream, great boulders of
that peculiarly hard, red granite found in the
glacial channels may be observed. Arriving
at the high-road which has been cut through the
side of a shaley hill, we cross over into a field
where, again, the hills begin to tower above us,
but to the left.

Among the undergrowths here may be seen
the wild gooseberry in profusion, as well as the
amelanchier, or ‘‘service berry.’’ Ferns thickly
cover the slopes. Soon a point is reached
where on either hand rise sheer, precipitous
walls, as if the great hill had been rent asunder
by seismic action, although in reality it was
probably nothing more than the steady washing
of the waters of the Branch, which in times of
freshet are greatly increased in volume and
violence of action.

On these perpendicular walls the stony se-
erets of the hills are revealed. Flattened
spheres of rusty-colored stone, from a few
inches to twelve feet or more in diameter, are
exposed to view. Some of these spheres have
fallen to the bed of the stream and are broken
in fragments. Some have been cleft by the

THE SEPTARIA. 121

hammer of the inquisitive geologist, for fre-
quently in the center of these globe-like con-
cretions fossil specimens have been discovered.

It was in one of these that the Hertzeri Di-
nichthys was found by Rev. Henry Hertzer,
then of Delaware, Ohio.

This gorge is known locally as Fern Canyon.
The Branch, after passing through this inter-
esting channel, whose outlet of boulders is much
like the terminus of a glacier on a small scale,
runs sluggishly for a short distance through
a strip of alluvial lowland and joins its waters
to those of the Olentangy.

Upon first sight, these mysterious looking
spheroids strike the mind of the novice with
wonder, and never cease to be full of interest.
In the Geological Survey of Ohio, Dr. Orton
makes frequent reference to them, as in the
following:

‘‘One of the most conspicuous features of the
Huron shale is found in the concretions, great and
small, which it contains in great numbers. They be-
gin with the formation, and in the lowermost forty
feet all the varieties of their structure can be seen.
The shape which the larger and more symmetrical
take is that of flattened spheroids. Not infrequently
two are joined together by a ligament uniting their
centers. They are sometimes, but more rarely, disc-
like, and many of them lack regularity of outline.

122 SUMMER IN A BOG.

“‘In composition some variety is observable. Very
many of the smaller ones consist of the crystallized
bi-sulphide of iron, and some of them consist of a sym-
metrical shell or scale of this substance around a
softer nucleus, which gives them a strong resemblance
to an iron casting. The nodules of this kind invari-
ably contain lime and iron, the former substances
being sometimes found at the center in the shape of
eale spar, and more frequently occurring in a dark
semi-crystalline mineral that is quite characteristic.
The iron is always intimately associated with the lime
and gives to the weathered concretions the dark yellow
or ochreus color that marks them all in this stage.

‘*Rarer substances are sometimes met in the erys-
talline nuclei of the concretions. Heavy spar is one
of these. As is now well known, there are sometimes
found in the centers of these bodies organic nuclei,
and among these are some of the most interesting and
remarkable fossils of the entire geological series.
Wood is not uncommon, a species of ancient pine, in
particular, the dadoxylon Newberri.’’

The great fish bones, however, are the most
remarkable forms to be met with here, and fur-
nish a link in geological discovery of unique
value.

The northern part of Franklin County,
Ohio, is rich in the Huron shale from which
these concretions are taken. They are gener-
ally partially decomposed when found, espe-

THE SEPTARIA. 1238

cially the larger ones, and fall to pieces when
exposed to the atmosphere.

Of this shale, in which the septaria are
found, Dr. Orton speaks as of great possible
future value, since it is rich in carbon material.
In the present condition of increasing scarcity
and expense of fuel there should be a measure
of interest attached to this stratum: a combi-
nation of vegetable product, or, possibly, the
waste of cities with it, being one method by
which its utility in that direction might be
solved.

The blue clay, valuable in pottery, is also
one of the shale products.

Notwithstanding many plain references to
these concretions of the Huron shale, the sep-
taria, there was still one point upon which no
light was shed. Were the septaria a growth of
ancient times?

There they were upon the exposed walls of
Fern Canyon, from the base to the top of the
hill, as if the mere production of yesterday.
From hoary, old, crumbled patriarchs to mere
infants of a few inches in diameter, they insist-
ently propounded the query.

On this point I found no source of informa-
tion in any book. Years passed and the ques-
tion was unanswered but not forgotten. The
science of geology is still in its youth, the nine-
teenth century having seen the greater part of

124 SUMMER IN A BOG.

its development. Less than fifty years covers
the period in which we have become acquainted
with the geological formations of Ohio.

At last, having the good fortune to meet Dr.
Orton, the mystery was solved. Yes, he said,
the septaria are growing to-day just as they
did centuries ago. Wherever the proper con-
stituents are found the septaria gather about
a nucleus. This experiment, he assured me,
had been tried and the result was conclusive.

It is interesting to trace the thought of this
geologist through the ‘‘Survey’’ on this sub-
ject. At first we hear only of nodules and ‘‘con-
cretions,’’ but toward the close of his researches
he makes them known to us as ‘‘septaria.’’

An enviable task is that of the naturalist.
What pleasure Nature spreads in the path of
her devotee; the expectancy of the search, the
unmixed joy of the discovery! There are no
labors so purely delightful as those which we
assume with Nature.

In fancy I can see Dr. Orton opening, for
the first time, these unsullied leaves of the
earth’s book; his kind, bright face reflecting
the fine glow of intellectual enjoyment, like
light tempered through a clear porcelain vase,
remembering now that he has reached that
sphere where ‘‘knowledge shall vanish away’’
in perfect knowing.

1900.

STORY OF THE DINICHTHYS. 125

In the study of animal development through
geology more than one ‘‘missing link’’ has, at
various times, excited the interest and research
of the student. The science is still so immature
and discoveries are so constantly being made,
the unbiased mind holds itself in readiness for
new revelations.

In the line of relationship between the ba-
trachians and fishes, the lepidosiren, or mud-
fish, discovered in 1837 by Dr. Natterer, in the
Amazon River, has held a controverted posi-
tion, some systematists ranking it as the high-
est of fishes, while others class it with the rep-
tiles. This curious animal is the only living
representative of what at one time was a large
and powerful class of creatures.

Mr. Hertzer, breaking into fragments the
huge septaria of the Huron shale, so abundant
in Delaware County, though one of the tough-
est and most intractable of the stony forma-
tions, was rewarded by finding the fossil bones
of some creature to him then unknown.

Several of these bones were taken by him
to the meeting of the American Scientific Asso-
ciation at Buffalo in 1866. There they were
submitted to Prof. Newberry, who recognized
them as belonging to the huge Ganoid fishes,
altogether new to science.

Mr. Hertzer, with renewed interest in his

126 SUMMER IN A BOG.

investigations, returned home and continued his
search among the concretions. With most pa-
tient care and skill the hundreds of fragments
which he found in the nuclei of these ponderous
spheroids were cemented, each in its proper
place.

In one septarium a head of Dinichthys,
though somewhat dislocated, was complete in
all its parts. In another was a perfect man-
dible, while still another contained one of the
teeth of the upper jaw.

Though much broken, these specimens were
carefully fitted to each other and restored to
full integrity by this faithful student.

‘‘The bones contained in these concretions,’’
writes Prof. Newberry, ‘‘are those of gigantic
fishes, larger, more powerful, and more singular
in their organization than any of those immor-
talized by Hugh Miller. I have named the most
remarkable one Dinichthys Hertzeri, or Hert-
zer’s terrible fish. This name will not seem
ill-chosen when I say that the fish that now
bears it had a head three feet long by two feet
broad, and that his under jaws were more than
two feet in length and five inches deep.

“<They are composed of dense, bony tissues,
and are turned up anteriorly like sled-runners,
the extremities of both jaws meeting to form
one great triangular tooth which interlocked

STORY OF THE DINICHTHYS. 197

with two in the upper jaw, seven inches in
length and more than three inches wide.

“‘It is apparent from the structure of these
jaws that they could easily embrace in their
grasp the body of a man—perhaps of a horse—
and as they were, doubtless, moved by muscles
of corresponding power, they could crush such
a body as we would crush an egg-shell.

‘‘Perhaps the bony shields worn by Dinich-
thys were for the protection of the wearers
against the powerful jaws of their own kin.
But it is very improbable that the species was,
to any great degree, self-devouring; for the
double reason that cannibalism is an offense
against a far-reaching law of nature, and the
carapaces of even the younger individuals of
Dinichthys must have been very hard to crack,
even for the all-embracing and massive jaws
of their parents and adult relatives.’’

At least one hundred specimens have been
found in the rocks of the Devonian time, which
shows that the Dinichthys greatly exceeds in
numbers any other of its cotemporary rela-
tions. To Ohio belongs the honor of first
giving to the world its discovery, but a num-
ber of specimens have since been found in
Russia.

This creature was eminently carnivorous,
and from the extraordinary development of its

128 SUMMER IN A BOG.

dental apparatus it must have fed upon large
and resistive animals.

Prof. Newberry secured for Columbia Col-
lege, School of Mines, the fine specimen discov-
ered by Mr. Hertzer, where it occupies a place
of unique and distinctive interest.

A second species of the Dinichthys was dis-
covered by Mr. Jay Terrell of Sheffield, Lorain
County.

Having observed some large bones pro-
truding from the soil on the lake shore cliffs,
and finding that they were imbedded in such
a manner as to render it impossible to secure
them intact by horizontal digging, he excavated
from above at a great expense of care and labor,
his efforts being rewarded by having the new-
found species named in his honor the Dinich-
thys Terrelli.

This species has since been found by others.

It would be difficult to find a region of the
globe which furnishes a richer and more varied
field for the naturalist than our own beautiful
Ohio. The hills present opportunities for the
geologist; even the level plains have their
kames, or gravel-pits, in which curious forma-
tions are often found, as well as skeletons of
the mastodon, here and in the swamps.

In the numerous Indian mounds the ethnolo-
gist may find objects for investigation; and
there is hardly an acre of ground where the

PASSING OF THE WILDWOOD. 129

relics of former inhabitants may not be
ploughed up in the form of flint arrow heads,
stone pestles, axes, mallets, pipes, beads, ete.

Already her floral wealth has become famil-
iar through the labor of her world-famed botan-
ists. These fields for study are all so accessible,
it is surprising that there is not more touring
of scientific classes from high schools and col-
leges during the summer months.

1900.

PASSING OF THE WILDWOOD.

It was in Duluth, a few years ago, that the
fact was forcibly suggested to my attention
that we are carelessly allowing the native vege-
table growths of forest, vale, and water to
become extinct. Near one of the docks, where
a natural shallow inlet ran beside the untinished
stonework for a short distance, the graceful
sedges and water-plants still flourished undis-
turbed.

It was in the month of July when the aquatic
florae are at their best, yet in this one spot
alone did I see anything to remind me that once
these shores of Lake Superior had been green
and luxuriant with blossoms. This, too, not-
withstanding the fact that the adopted flower
of the city is the calla, as I discovered when

9

130 SUMMER IN A BOG.

purchasing a souvenir spoon. The iris and
sagittaria spread their colored petals to the
sun, the bur-reed and cat-tail lifted their forest
of spears, with the pale green inflorescence
sheltered from any but close observation.

There were tufts of the greater bulrush and
other tall, graceful varieties of the sedge dupli-
cated by reflection in the water.

A glimpse of nature, an object lesson for
the denizens of the city, surrounded from day
to day, as they are, by the works of man; why
can not such spots be spared, here and there,
from the general destruction of nature’s orig-
inal beauty, which takes place wherever a city
is planted?

Nature’s bounties are so various, and there
is no locality in which some one of them may
not be found. In one place the geological for-
mations are rich, in another the long stretches
of woodland and prairie are profuse in botani-
cal wealth. Here it is mosses and lichens, there
the peculiar growths of the seashore, with pos-
sibilities in conchology. Everywhere are birds
and insects, and the larger forms of animal life.

But civilization daily encroaches upon these
remnants of pristine formations, and in many
localities nothing remains of nature’s original
construction.

In my own county I have seen her driven

PASSING OF THE WILDWOOD. 131

from the wayside and fence-row by the hoe of
the thrifty farmer, till but few spots remain in
which she holds undisputed summer revel.

The obliteration of natural plant life radi-
ates from the cities to a greater extent every
year. The neat farm houses spring up within
short distances of each other, the fence-rows
disappear, and orderly cultivation takes the
place of nature’s wild luxuriance. What once
the zigzag fence partially protected, the wire
exposes to the hoe and plow. Instead of the
wild hyacinth, clematis, cardinal flower, or pink,
which decked the tangled, picturesque lines, the
carrot, white-top, yarrow, or other pest of the
farmer is monopolizing the beauty-forsaken
wayside.

This spoliation is partly owing to the city
loiterer, greedy of beauty and nature’s treas-
ures, but more from the owner of the soil who
has little difficulty in eradicating everything
but those persistent plant-squatters, which
stand a living contradiction to the law of ‘‘sur-
vival of the fittest.’’

About two miles from the county seat, to the
west, there is a strip of woodland which is
being gradually cleared away, until now there
is left less than ten acres. It is rich in the pro-
duction of wild vines, trees, and flowers.

The wild grape, ampelopsis, tecoma, cle-

132 SUMMER IN A BOG.

matis, rhus toxicodendron, smilax, and bitter-
sweet trail from tree to tree. The dioscorea
villosa flourishes here. The red-bud, dogwood,
spice-bush, sassafras, elm, maple, oak and other
trees are here in profusion, and to name the
wild flowers that congene at their roots would
require pages and pages of a botanical analy-
sis. Many varieties of violets, the sanguinaria,
meadow-rue, hydrophyllum, wake robin, Solo-
mon’s seal, Indian turnip, green dragon, silene,
phlox, erythronium, mertensia, Greek valerian,
lady’s slipper, acteae, anemones, syndesmon,
tradescantia, euphorbia, sweet cicely, several
varieties of galium, with their matting of shiny
pixie wheels; the Compositae, Umbilliferae, La-
biatae—in short, a treasure spot to the botanist.”

A similar tract of land about a mile east of
town was in one recent season transformed into
a cornfield.

Doubtless each village or town has such
spots of natural beauty which are swallowed up
by encroaching civilization.

The work of destruction goes constantly on.
Many plants once common, like the ginseng,
spikenard, cimicifuga, have been appropriated
by the ‘‘herb doctor,’’ and no attempt is made
to re-supply them.

Do we not owe a duty to posterity in making
an attempt to save a tract like this for future

*Now a cultivated field.

BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 133

students, in the neighborhood of each city, town
or college? If the Government purchases and
preserves the birthplace of a great man, the
field of a celebrated battle, why not a strip of
-mother earth, rich with indigenous vegetation?

A little nature-park, hedged in from the
thoughtless marauder but open to the student
and lover of nature—can any acquisition be
worth more to a natural history club or scien-
tific association?

Ladies’ clubs might well consider this in
connection with their interest in ornithology.
In a nature-park the birds flourish undisturbed ;
left to the precarious shelter of cultivated
ground, only the tamer species are likely to
remain.—Plant World, May, 1900.

HELIANTHUS KELLERMANII.

Wuen August bearhs with sultry rays
Along luxuriant country ways,

When verdure droops and brooks are dry,
Rejoicing in the summer sky,

The Helianthus opes her gold, .

Her gorgeous beauties all unfold,

And to her lord, the blazing sun,

She lifts her bright eyes, one by one.

On Darby’s plains and to the west
The prairie decks her bounteous breast
With many a flower of varied hue;
And here our Sullivant and Lesquereux,

134 SUMMER IN A BOG.

Earliest among the pioneers,
Unchecked by solitude or fears

Of deadly, lurking, savage foe,
Into these wilds devoutly go

And on this wealth of nature pore
With zeal of scientific lore.

Along Scioto’s plains, I wist,

Ohio’s later botanist

Has crowned his wanderings aestival,
His part in nature’s festival

By blending in discovery’s thought
His name with Helianthus wrought.

Oft as the boscage wild I scour

I long to hap upon some flower
By page botanical unkenned,
Whereto my name I may append,
As here along the summer lea

I find the Sullivanti,*

Or that giganteum’s form obscure
Which Kellermanii shall endure.
But, ah! no flower unknown thus far
Has crowned my vision like a star.
Yet happy fate it were for me

To rear some flower of Poésy.

O Muse, to whom the power belongs,

Inspirer of our sylvan songs,

Grant to this verse one touch divine

To link those gracious names with mine!
August 21, 1899.

*Torrey and Grey.

BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 135

THERE is a lonely grave in Guatemala where rests the
body of William Ashbrook Kellerman, Ph. D., who
died of malarial fever March 8, 1908. He was State
Botanist at the Ohio State University, and it was
while conducting explorations in mycology that he
had sacrificed his life. He was a man who loved his
work, and in thought and life grew close to nature.

The American Association for the Advancement
of Science met at the Ohio State University in Co-
lumbus, August 21, 1899, celebrating the following
day in honor of Ohio’s noted botanists, living and
dead.

It was my good fortune in youth to meet the digni-
fied and thoughtful William Starling Sullivant in Co-
lumbus and to know of his refined family life; also
Hon. Joseph Sullivant, his brother; to meet Leo Les-
quereaux and receive a smile from his beautiful dark
eyes, hearing from those about him expressions of
their love and reverence; and in later life, when I
took up the study of botany, to be aided by the patient
and genial help of Prof. W. A. Kellerman, of the Ohio
State University.

Dr. Kellerman was born in Ashville, Ohio, in 1851.
He was a graduate of Cornell University in 1871, and
in 1881 received the degree of Ph. D. at the University
of Zurich. He occupied important positions in Wis-
consin State Normal School, Kansas State Agricul-
tural College, and Kansas State Experimental Sta-
tion. He came to Ohio State University in 1891.

He was the founder of the Journal of Mycology
and the Ohio Mycological Bulletin. He was the

136 SUMMER IN A BOG.

author of ‘‘Flora of Kansas, ‘‘Spring Flora of Ohio,’’
‘Catalogue of Ohio Plants,’’ ‘‘The Non-Indigenous
Flora of Ohio,’’ ‘‘Phyto-Theca,’’ ‘‘Elementary Bot-
any,’’ ete.

Helianthus Kellermanii: Kellerman’s Sunflower,
is named in his honor.

Schaffner, John Henry, who succeeded to the chair
of Botany at Ohio State University on the death of
Dr. Kellerman, was born at Agosta, Ohio, July 8,
1866. He is President of Ohio Academy of Science
-and member of the National Geographic Society. He
is author of a number of scientific articles contributed
to the Botanical Gazette, Journal of Applied Micro-
scopy, Ohio Naturalist, etc., ‘‘The Pteridophytas of
Ohio,’’ ‘‘Trees of Ohio and Surrounding Territory,’’
ete.

Robert F. Griggs, Assistant Botanist, O. 8. U.,
author of ‘‘The Willows of Ohio,”’’ ete.

Ohio has a creditable list of men who have devoted
themselves to the study of botany. In addition to
those mentioned elsewhere are the following, many
of whom are men of brilliant attainments, whose
names are familiar to the scientist and of whom the
world is likely to know more in the future: Dr. J. 8.
Newberry, Dr. H. C. Beardslee, Dr. W. R. Lazenby,
W. C. Werner, Jos. F. James, E. E. Bogue, Edo
Classen, E. E. Fulmer, Otto Hacker, L. S. Hopkins,
A. P. Morgan, J. A. Sanford, A. D. Selby, Geo. H.
Shull, L. D. Stair, F. L. Stevens, F. J. Tyler, Otto E.
Jennings, R. J. Webb, A. Wetzstein, A. Dachnowski,
E. L. Mondey, and a number of others.

BOTANISTS OF OHIO. 137

.

Jos. F. James, whose early death deprived the sci-
ence of an earnest worker, has a carex named in his
honor, and I recall the pleasure it gave me to collect
the modest little plant in a low meadow a few sum-
mers ago. My interest was much increased from hav-
ing had the privilege of meeting Mrs. James, her hus-
band’s able assistant, at the American Association for
the Advancement of Science celebration, where, with
Miss Lumina Riddle (since Mrs. B. B. Smyth, of Kan-
sas), at that time pursuing a course in botany at the
university, a memorably happy hour was passed.

Among the names of those who were active in the
early botanical work of Ohio are Dr. Daniel Drake,
Dr. C. G. Lloyd, John L. Riddell, A.M., Joseph
Clarke, John H. Klippert, Dr. R. 8. Howard, Dr. Kel-
logg, Dr. N. S. Townshend, Dr. John A. Warder,
Dr. Jared P. Kirtland, and others.

Besides those already named above are found the
following, who contributed to the collection of bo-
tanical specimens at the Ohio State University: C. L.
Payne, H. L. Jones, A. A. Wright, W. Krebs, W. S.
Devol, W. L. Crabaugh, E. S. Mosely, W. S. Whipps,
R. H. Ingraham, W. R. Beattie, E. W. Vickers, D. L.
James, W. G. Tight, G. B. Twitchell, Thos. G. Lea,
J. A. Sandford, E. V. Wilcox, S. Renshaw, H. Herzer,
E. W. Claypole, J. 8. Hine, E. Wilkinson, Moses
Craig, R. Buchanan, W. W. Deckard, M. G. Aumold,
Albert Neifer, A. F. Foerste, R. E. Bower, J. S. Van-
dervort, Dr. H. L. True, H. G. Wolfgang, ete.

The names of the women who assisted in this work
are given elsewhere.

138 SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS.

Apanson, MIcHEL, a French naturalist of Scotch
dscent, was born at Aix, April 7, 1727; died at Paris,
August 3, 1806. Made a fine collection in Senegal,
where he studied for five years. He assisted in open-
ing the way for the introduction of the system of de
Jussieu. The baobab tree is named Adansonia in his
honor, as he was the first to give a scientific descrip-
tion of it.

BaRRELIER, JAQUES. Born at Paris, 1606; died
September 17, 1673. A French botanist. He wrote
‘Plantae per Galliam, Hispaniam, et Italiam obser-
vatae, etc.’’

BarkRerE, PIERRE. Born at Perpignan about 1690;
died there November 1, 1755. He studied medicine
and botany; traveled in French Guiana, and on his
return was Professor of Botany at Perpignan. He
wrote several works on the natural history and geog-
raphy of Guiana.

Bentiey, Ropert. Born at Hitchin, Hertford-
shire, England, March 25, 1821; died December, 1893.
An English botanist. His works include ‘‘Medicinal
Plants,’’ ‘‘Manual of Botany,’’ ete.

Boccongz, Paoua; later, Sytvio. Born at Palermo,
Sicily, April 24, 1633; died near there December 22,
1794. A noted Sicilian botanist; Professor of Botany
at Padua, and later a Cistercian monk.

Bocconia Cordata—Plumed Poppy.

Bonnier, Gaston. Member of the Academy of
Sciences and Professor of Botany at the Sorbonne,

SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS. 139

Paris. Author of ‘‘Flore Complete de France, Suisse,
et Belgique, illustre en couleurs;’’ editor of ‘‘Diction-
naire de Botanique,’’ ete.

Britton, Natuaniey Lorp. Born at New Dorp,
Staten Island, N. Y., January 15, 1859. A prominent
American Botanist, Diksctox of the New York Botan-
ical Gardens from 1896. Author of ‘Illustrated
Flora of the Northern United States and Canada,’’
‘‘Manual of the Northern United States and Can-
ada,’’ ete. Hon. Addison Brown, President of the
Torrey Botanical Club, assisted him.

BROMFIELD, WILLIAM ARNOLD. Author of ‘‘Flora
Vectensis,’’ 1856. Of this author I am unable to give
further statistics, but take this opportunity to ac-
knowledge the pleasure and profit the above book gave
me in making the acquaintance of the flora of the Isle
of Wight.

Brown, Rosert. Born at Montrose, Scotland,
December 21, 1773; died at London, June 10, 1858.
He went as naturalist of the Flinders Australian Ex-
pedition. He published works on the plants of New
Holland and Australia.

CANDOLLE, AUGUSTIN PyramMus DE. Born at Ge-
neva, February 4, 1778; died at Geneva, September 9,
1841. <A celebrated Swiss botanist and one of the
founders of the natural system of botany; a Professor
of Botany and author of several important works:
‘‘FHistoire des plantes grasses,’’ ‘‘Theorie elementaire
de la botanique,’’ ‘‘Regni Vegetabilis Systema Na-
turale.’’ This work was continued by

140 SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS.

CANDOLLE, ALPHONSE Louis Pierre Pyramus, his
son, under the title ‘‘Prodromus Systematis Regni
Vegetabilis, ete.’’ He was born in Paris, October 27,
1806. Besides the continuation of the work begun by
his father, mentioned above, he wrote ‘‘Geographie
botanique raisonnee’’ (2 vols.), ‘‘Origin of Cultivated
Plants,’’ ete.

Cetstus, OLar. Born July 19, 1670; died at Up-
sala, Sweden, June 24, 1756. A Swedish botanist and
theologian; instructor of Linnaeus, who first discov-
ered his genius and was his patron. Noted for his re-
searches in regard to plants mentioned in the Bible.
In this work Linneus assisted him for a time.

ConsTANTIN, JULIEN. Paris. Professeur au Mu-
séum d’Histoire Naturelle et a 1’Ecole Nationale
d’Horticulture. Author of ‘‘ Atlas des Orchidées cul-
tivées.”’

Dioscoripes, a medical and botanical writer of the
first or second century A. D., supposed to be a native
of Anazarbus in Cilicia. He traveled through Greece,
Asia Minor, Italy, and Gaul, making investigations
and collecting plants. He wrote a work on Materia
Medica in five volumes, which has been translated
from the Greek and Latin into several modern lan-
guages. The botanical family Dioscoreacew (the
wild yam) is named in his honor.

Eneter, Apotr. Born at Sagan, Silesia, March
25, 1844. A noted German botanist. He is director
of the Botanical Garden from 1889, and professor in
the University of Berlin. Among his productions is
‘‘An Essay on the Development of the Vegetable

SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS. 141

Kingdom,’’ ‘‘Natural Families in the Vegetable
Kingdom,’’ ete. Engler and Prantl are authors of
“‘Natiirliche Pflanzenfamilien,’’ a great work, in
which all known genera of plants are described.

EscuscHo.tz, JoHN Friepricu von. Born at Dor-
pat, Russia, November 12, 1798; died there May 19,
1834. He visited California early in the century. A
noted German botanist and traveler, naturalist. He
accompanied, as physician and naturalist, Kotzebue’s
expeditions in 1815-18 and 1823.

Eschscholtzia Californica—California Poppy.

Fucus, Leonwarp. Born at Wembdingen, Ba-
varia, January 17, 1501; died at Tiibingen, Wiirt-
temberg, May 10, 1566. A German botanist and phy-
sician ; author of ‘‘De Historia Stirpium,’’ 1542. The
Fuchsia is named for him, an American flowering
plant, native of Mexico and South America.

GentIus, Kine or Intyria. The Gentian family
is named for him.

GopIn DES Oponals, JEAN, accompanied his brother
Louis to Peru in 1735, and remained there as a pro-
fessor in a college at Quito, gtudying the flora of
that country as well as the Indian language. He also
visited Cayenne, the Brazilian Amazon, etc. He pub-
lished several works on the plants, animals, etc., of
South America. He was born in Saint Amans in
1712, and died there in 1792.

Gray, Asa. Born at Paris, Oneida Co., N. Y.,
November 18, 1810; died at Cambridge, Mass., Janu-
ary 30, 1888. Studied medicine, but gave it up for
the study of botany. Was Professor of Natural His-

142 SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS.

tory at Harvard from 1842 to 1888. With Torrey he
aided in bringing the ancient botanical knowledge
into conformity with the new natural system recently
adopted by the leading botanists of Europe. He was
especially successful in presenting botanical science
to the young in a simple and attractive style. Author
of ‘‘How Plants Grow,’’ ‘‘Manual of Botany and
Vegetable Physiology,’’ illustrated by Isaac Sprague ;
“‘How Plants Behave,’’ ‘‘Forest, Field, and Garden
Botany,’” ‘‘Darwiniana,’’ ‘‘New Flora of North
America,’’ ete.

Grew, NeHEMIAH. Born 1641; died March, 1712.
An English botanist, noted for his studies in vegetable
anatomy and physiology. His chief work, ‘‘ Anatomy
of Plants,’’ was published in 1682.

Hooker, Sir JosepH Datton. Born at Glasgow,
1817. <A noted English botanist, son of Sir W. J.
Hooker. Author of ‘‘Florae Antarctica,’’ ‘‘Rhodo-
dendrons of the Sikkim-Himalaya,’’ ‘‘Flora of New
Zealand,’’ ‘‘Students’ Flora of the British Islands,’’
ete.

Hooker, Sir Wittiam Jackson. Born at Nor-
wich, England, July, 1785; died at Kew, near Lon-
don, August 12, 1865. A noted English botanist; ap-
pointed Director at Kew in 1841. Author of ‘‘ British
Jungermanniae,’’ ‘‘Flora Scotiea,’’ ‘“‘Ieones Planta-
rum,’’ ‘‘Species Filicum,”’ ete. -

Jupa II, son of Juba I, made King of Numidia
30 B. C., and transferred to Mauretania 25 B. C.
Noted as a historical and general writer.

Juba’s Bush, or the Ivesine.

SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS. 148

Jussieu, BERNaRD DE. Born at Lyons, France,
August 17, 1699; died at Paris, November 6, 1776.
With Antoine L. the founder of the natural system of
botany. At first a physician, he at length devoted his
entire time to botany. He took charge of the gardens
of the Trianon in 1758.

Jussieu, ANTornE LauRENT DE. Born at Lyons,
France, April 12, 1748; died at Paris, September 17,
1836. A noted French botanist, nephew of Bernard.
Author of the following: ‘‘Genera plantarum secun-
dum ordines naturales,’’ ete., ‘‘Introductio in histo-
riam plantarum,’’ ‘‘Exposition d’un nouvel ordre de
plantes, adopte dans les demonstrations du jardin
royal’’ (1774).

JussIEU, ADRIEN DE. Born at Paris, France, De-
cember 23, 1797; died there June 29, 1853. A noted
French botanist, son of the preceding. He wrote
‘‘Cours elementaire de la botanique,’’ and mono-
graphs on the Rutacee, Meliacer, Malphigiacez, ete.

JUSSIEU, JOSEPH DE. Born in 1704; died April 11,
1779. He went to Peru with La Condamine and Go-
din. He made a special study of the cinchona, spend-
ing fifteen years in collecting the flora of that region.
Through the dishonesty of a servant he lost this, and
his mind became unbalanced in consequence. He re-
turned to Paris, where he died.

Jussieaea—Primrose Willow.

LesquerEvx, Leo, was born at Fleurier, Neufcha-
tel, November 18, 1806. He was of French Huguenot
ancestry. He followed the trade of jeweler, his father

144 SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS.

having been a manufacturer of watch-springs. Owing
to delicate health, his mother desired that he should
become a minister of the gospel. He attended the
Academy of Neufchatel, where he became the intimate
companion and fellow-student of Guyot.

The King of Prussia engaged his services in the
exploration of the peat bogs of Northern Europe, and
his education in the study of botany, geology, etc.,
was greatly assisted. Of paleobotany, in which he
was subsequently to become an active worker and ex-
plorer, he here acquired his earliest knowledge.

In 1848 he came to America, going first to Boston,
where he was a member of the household of Agassiz,
working on the botanical part of Agassiz’s ‘‘ Journey
to Lake Superior.’’ At the invitation of W. 8. Sulli-
vant he came to Columbus in the winter of that year,
and continued his studies of mosses, making a tour
of the mountains of the Southern States. ‘‘Musci
Americani Exsiceati,’’ by W. S. Sullivant and L. Les-
quereux, one of the most valuable contributions to
bryalogy, was the fruit of this labor.

Lesquerella, Bladder-Pod.

Linpiey, JoHN. Born at Catton, near Norwich,
February 5, 1799; died November 1, 1865. A noted
English botanist, author of ‘‘Synopsis of the British
Flora,’’ etc.; editor of the ‘‘Botanical Register,’’ of
the ‘‘Gardeners’ Chronicle,’’ etc.

Linnzus, Carouus (Cart von Linne). Born near
Stenbrohult in the Province of Smaland, Sweden,
May 24, 1707; died in Upsal, January 10, 1778. He
inherited his love of flowers from his father, who was

SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS. 145

a Protestant minister in Stenbrohult, beginning al-
most in infancy the study of plants, which finally won
for him his place as founder of the ‘‘Linnean Sys-
tem’’ in botany. He made a visit to Lapland, lived a
few years in the Netherlands, at work upon his fa-
vorite study, becoming a professor of medicine, and
later of botany.

He underwent much deprivation and poverty, but
his talents and devotion were finally rewarded by the
king, who bestowed upon him the honor of Knight-
hood and gave him positions of trust suitable to his
attainments in science. At one time he visited Paris,
where he met the Jussieus, acknowledging without
envy the superiority of the new system of botany
which was destined to supersede his own.

His principal works are: ‘‘Systema nature,”’
1735 ; ‘‘Fundamenta botanica,’’ 1737; ‘‘Genera plan-
tarum,’’ 1737; ‘‘Flora lapponica,’’ 1787; ‘‘Philoso-
phia botanica,’’ 1751; ‘‘Species plantarum,’ 1753,
ete.

Sex in plants was the foundation of the Linnzan
System, but it has long been replaced by the natural
system of the De Condolles and the De Jussieus, which
made like structure and affinity of parts the foun-
dation of classification.

Linnea, or Twin-flower.

Elizabeth Christina von Linne was the only one
of her father’s five children who inherited any of his
genius. ‘‘She was the first naturalist to observe the
inflammability of exhalations of certain plants and
the electric sparks to be drawn from the nasturtium.”’

10

146 SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS.

Lopet, or L’OBEL, Matruias, born near Lille,
1538; died near London, 1616. Emigrated to Eng-
land, where he became botanist to James I and had
charge of a garden of medicinal plants. Author of
some bontanical works.

Lobelia is named for him.

Martyn, Joun. Born in London, England, Sep-
tember 12, 1699; died at Chelsea, January 29, 1768.
Author of ‘‘Historia plantarum variorum ;’’ Professor
of Botany at Cambridge.

Martynia Louisiana, Unicorn-Plant, or Double-
Claw, is named in his honor.

Micaavux, I., ANpRE, a French botanist, born at
Versailles, March 7, 1746, died in Madagascar, No-
vember 13, 1802. He was a pupil of Bernard de Jus-
sieu in the Jardin des Plantes, and associated with
Lamarck and Thouin in their botanical expeditions.
He traveled in the Pyrenees, and subsequently in
Persia, where he remained two years making botan-
ical collections and studies. In 1785 he was commis-
sioned by the French Government to make a journey
through North America, and he established botanic
gardens near Charleston and New York City. He
sent home great quantities of plants, trees, and seeds.
A plantation to which he had contributed 60,000
young trees was destroyed during the French Revolu-
tion. On returning to France, 1796, he was ship-
wrecked and most of his collections were lost. In 1800
he joined an expedition to Australia, but left it at the
Isle of France and went to Madagascar, where he died.
Two works, ‘‘A History of the Oaks of North Amer-

SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS. 147

= 9

ica’’ and ‘‘Flora of North America,’’ comprise his
published writings.

Micuaux, II., Francois ANpRE, son of the pre-
ceding, a French botanist, was born at Versailles in
1770, died at Vaureal, October 23, 1855. He made
three trips, in the employ of the government, to North
America, to ascertain what species of trees would bear
transplanting to Europe. His principal work is
‘History of the Forest Trees of North America.”’
To this was added by Thomas Nuttall three volumes
containing the trees not included in the work by
Michaux.

Nuttauu, Tuomas, born at Settle, Yorkshire, Eng-
land, 1786; died at St. Helens, Lancashire, England,
September 10, 1859. In America from 1807 to 1842.
Was appointed Curator of the Botanical Garden at
Harvard University in 1822. He wrote: ‘‘Genera of
North American Plants,’’ ‘‘The North American
Sylva,’’ ‘‘Manual of Ornithology of United States and
Canada,’’ ‘‘ Journal of Travels in Arkansas Territory
in 1819.”

Pursu, Freperick. Born in Tobolsk, Siberia, in
1774; died in Montreal, Canada, June 11, 1820. He
was educated at Dresden, came to America in 1799,
and spent twelve years in botanical explorations. In
1811 he visited England and published ‘‘Flora of
North America.’’ He was engaged in the collection
of materials for a flora of Canada when he died.

RwDELL, Jonn L., Ohio botanist.
RupBeck, Ovaus (1630-1702), founder of the
botanical garden at Upsala, 1657; his son, Olaus

148 SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS.

(1660-1740), and a relative, Olaus John Rudbeck, all
Swedish botanical writers.

Rudbeckia, named in honor of the first by Linneus.

Sotomon, Kine or IsrazL (993-953 B. C.)

Solomon’s Seal is named in his honor.

Suuiivant, Wiuu14m Starting. Born near Co-
lumbus, Ohio, January 15, 1803; died there April 30,
1873. An American botanist, noted as a bryologist.
He wrote ‘‘Musci Alleghaniensis’’ (1845), ‘‘Musci
and Hepatice of the United States, East of the Mis-
sissippi River’’ (1856), and ‘‘Icones muscorum’’
(1864). He was assisted in his work by Leo Les-
quereux.

Sullivantia Sullivantii, Sullivantia.

THEOPHRASTUS (374-287 B. C.), a Greek philoso-
pher and a disciple of Aristotle. He left two botan-
ical works: ‘‘ Researches about Plants,’’ in nine books,
and ‘‘Principles of Vegetable Life,’’ in six books,
which show he was a close student of nature.

THUNBERG, Karu Peter. Born at Jonkoping,
Sweden, November 11, 1748; died at Upsala, August 8,
1828. <A pupil of Linneus. Author of ‘‘Flora Ja-
ponica,’’ ‘‘Flora Capensis,’’ ete.

Thunbergia.

Torrey, JOHN. Born in New York, August 15,
1796; died in New York, March 10, 1873. An Ameri-
can botanist and chemist. He was professor at
Princeton and in the College of Physicians and Sur-
geons, N. Y. He was State Geologist for New York,
and also State Assayer. He was botanical editor of
reports of various expeditions of exploration. Pub-

SOME OF WORLD’S BOTANISTS. 149

lished ‘‘Catalogue of Plants Growing Spontaneously
within Thirty Miles of the City of New York,’’ ‘‘Flora
of the State of New York;’’ ‘‘Flora of Northern and
Middle States,’’ ‘‘Flora of North America,’’ with
Asa Gray.

TOURNEFORT, JOSEPH Pitton pvE. Born at Aix,
France, June 5, 1656; died November 28, 1708. A
noted French botanist, Professor of Botany at the
Royal Garden of Plants from 1683. His chief work is
‘‘Institutiones rei herberie.’’

WILLDENow, Kart Lupwic. A German botanist
born in Berlin in 1765; died there July 10, 1812. Pro-
fessor of Natural History at the medical college, Ber-
lin, 1798-1812. His chief works are ‘“‘Qrundriss der
Krauterkunde’’ and a new edition of ‘‘ Linneeus’s Spe-
cie Plantarum,’’ with the addition of plants discov-
ered since the publication of that work in 1753.

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160