TOUCH-ME-NOT.
Touch-me-not lives in moist places. Her feet stand in the damp earth and her head looks up above the bushes. Other plants love the damp, rich soil along the brookside, and Touch-me-not is sometimes crowded for room.
She is a tender little plant, this Touch-me-not, and yet she is brave and wise. She knows that if she is to live she must have strong seeds, and that to produce strong seeds she must be strong herself and beautiful.
She finds it easy to be beautiful in the pleasant world, where the sun shines upon her and the breezes fan her.
So forth from the axil of every leaf she swings out her dainty buds. They open their petals at last, all yellow and spotted with red. Cunning caves for the bee, they swing on slender stems. The tangle of weeds by the brookside is dotted all over by the bright blossoms. Light as they are, their slender stems bend under their weight.
The bees see them from a distance; they are attracted by the bright colors and fly to visit the touch-me-nots. They search for honey, and of course they find it, for the touch-me-not has wisely provided nectar for bees and birds.
The pretty yellow flowers contain rich honey in the little spur at the back. The end of the spur turns down, and it is in this turned-down tip the honey is made. From there it runs into the upper part of the spur, where the bees can reach it.
The moist roadside in many places is dotted with yellow touch-me-not flowers. They hang like earrings from their stems, and many call the plant “jewelweed” because of them. It is a pretty sight in the morning to see the bright jewels sparkling in the dew.
“Rubythroat” flashes about among them. “Rubythroat” is our northern humming bird. His throat is ruby red and sparkles in the sun. The rest of his body is green and brown. He shines like a jewel in the sunlight and darts from flower to flower. You cannot watch him, he flies so fast. But when he wishes a sip of honey he poises on his tiny wings before the jewelweed.
Into the dainty swinging flower he darts his slim black bill. He is partial to the honey of the touch-me-not, and wherever it grows in abundance you will be sure to see the rubythroats darting about.
Rubythroat does the flower a favor in return for the honey he gets.
You know about that. He carries pollen to it from some other flower. This new pollen enables strong seeds to form. The jewelweed is very careful to have strong seeds. It covers the pistil with a hood of its own anthers. Behind the anthers in a dark little room the pistil waits until all the pollen is gone and the anthers have fallen off.
The flower does not wish its pistil to receive its own pollen. The earth is crowded, and the seeds must be strong to grow. So the pistil is hidden behind the screen of the anthers until there is no more pollen left; then it comes forth and waits for the birds or the bees to bring it fresh pollen.
The anthers and pistil are not on the floor of the touch-me-not flower, as they are in the nasturtium. They hang from the roof like tiny chandeliers.
The bees do not walk over them, but touch them with their heads or backs, and the humming bird touches them with the top of its bill or with the feathers on its face.
When the birds or the bees have brought the pollen, the yellow corolla falls off and the fruit grows fast.
It is a smooth and delicate fruit, and it may be you know what it does to help the seeds find room.
When the fruit is ripe, the outer covering all of a sudden splits and curls up with considerable force, acting like a spring and shooting the seeds far over the thicket.
It spreads them far and wide, so they have a better chance to find a place to take root when the time comes.
The fruits are so eager to send the seeds on their journey, and so fearful that some harm will come to them, that they snap them away if any one touches the pods. If you jostle these eager plants you will hear the seeds flying in all directions. If you touch a seed-pod it goes off in your fingers. No wonder we call the plants “touch-me-nots”! Some call them “snapweed” or “snappers,” and the botany calls them “impatiens,” because they are so impatient!
They have yet another name, “lady’s eardrop,” and I do not know how many more. People must like the pretty things to give them so many names.
