THERE ARE PLANTS WHICH DO NOT BLOOM
But during the last two weeks of August the Chief Gardener and big Prue and little Prue and Davy all went to the seashore, which was not far away. They lived in a pretty cottage near the beach, and there were meadows behind that stretched away to the blue hills. Davy and Prue loved the sea, with all its curious shells and star-fishes and other wonderful creatures. They loved the white sand, where they found these things, and where the great waves billowed and broke over them when they bathed on hot afternoons. They loved the meadows, too, for here there were birds building in the grass, and flowers unlike any in their gardens, and little streams of clear water that went singing to the sea.
It was when they came from the meadow one afternoon, that they hurried to the Chief Gardener with the little basket which they always carried.
"We have found some things," said Davy, "and want you to look at them."
The Chief Gardener took the basket. On top were some mushrooms—two kinds. One had whity-brown tops, and was pink or brown or almost black underneath, while the other had yellow tops with white spots on them, and was very pale underneath. The Chief Gardener looked sharply at the children when he saw these yellow mushrooms.
"Go and wash your hands, quickly," he said, "and I hope neither of you have put your hands to your mouth since you touched these."
"I haven't," said Davy, "and I picked the yellow ones."
"They are deadly poison," said the Chief Gardener, "they are called the Amanita, and even to touch the tongue with your fingers after handling them might make you very ill. The others are meadow mushrooms and harmless. But even they could not be eaten after being in the basket with the Amanitas."
The children ran to wash their hands, and were presently back to ask questions. Meantime the Chief Gardener had found a lot of beautiful moss and ferns in the bottom of the basket, and some lichens, which the children had gathered from a rocky cliff not far away.
"Papa, aren't mushrooms toad-stools, and don't they build them to sit on, in pleasant weather, and to get under, when it rains?"
This was little Prue, and she was quite excited.
"I think they are some kind of plants," said Davy, "but I don't see where the flowers are, or how they make seeds."
"How about the ferns?" asked the Chief Gardener. "Did you find any flowers on the ferns?"
"No, but we found seeds."
Davy turned one of the fern leaves over, and, sure enough, there were a lot of little brown seeds under the ends of some of the leaflets. Then the Chief Gardener turned over one of the meadow mushrooms, and divided the little layers beneath with the tip of his pencil.
"That is where the mushroom keeps its seeds, too," he said. "We do not call them seeds, though, but spores. Fern seeds are called spores, also."
"But toads do sit under mushrooms, don't they?" insisted little Prue.
"Why, yes, I suppose a great many toads have done that, but they are really plants, as Davy says."
Davy had become thoughtful.
"Are they Exogens?" he asked, "or Endogens? I should think the mushrooms might be Endogens from their stems, and the fern Exogens from their leaves."
"Well, Davy, that is very well said, but they are really neither one. They belong to a great class of their own. Exogens and Endogens are only the two kinds of flowering plants. These mushrooms and ferns and mosses and lichens all belong to the flowerless plants, and are called Crip-tog-a-mous—a very long word, which I do not expect you to remember. The divisions of flowerless plants are too hard a study for little folks, but the plants are all very interesting, and we can gather them, and see how they grow. In fact, I think we will have to call our meadow and our beach your August garden."
"But there isn't anything on the beach," said Prue.
"How about all that seaweed you were gathering yesterday?"
"But does that really grow like our plants on the shore?" asked Davy.
"Very much the same, and it belongs to the flowerless class, too, along with the mosses and lichens and ferns and mushrooms. It has spores instead of seeds, and is really a sort of a moss of the sea."
"Oh, call us not weeds, we are flowers of the sea,
For lovely and bright and fresh-tinted are we,"
sang little Prue, with a memory of her kindergarten.
"Yes, they are flowers of the sea, though they do not bloom," said the Chief Gardener, "and are very beautiful in color and form. I will give you some white cards and you can gather specimens to dry. You spread out the little branches with a tooth-pick, and the cards make pretty little books afterwards."
"But do seaweeds and mosses and lichens and ferns and mushrooms all belong to one family?" asked Davy.
"Oh, by no means. Not even all to the same division of flowerless plants. But it is too hard a study for a little boy, and it is enough to learn now that they do all belong to the big flowerless or Crip-tog-a-mous class."
"Papa, is it true that if you put fern seeds in your shoes, nobody can see you?" asked little Prue.
"Why, I don't very well see how 'nobody' could see you, but I think somebody might."
"It says in my fairy book that the princess put fern seed in her shoe, and then there wasn't any one who could see her. I wish it was like that. I'm going to try it," and the little girl pulled off some of the brown spores and tucked them in her dusty ties.
"Can you see me? Can you see me, now?" she asked, dancing about.
"Why, no," said the Chief Gardener, who pretended to be looking for her in another direction.
"Can you, Davy? Can you see me?"
"Not very well, when you go so fast," laughed Davy. "Stand still, and let me try."
Just then big Prue came out on the porch, and little Prue danced up to her.
"Can you see me? Can you see me, Mamma? You mustn't, you know, because I've got fern seed in my shoe."
Big Prue shut her eyes, and put out her arms.
"No, I can't see you," she said, "but you feel like the same little girl," and she kissed the little round tanned face on her shoulder.
IV