Designed to Open the Eyes of the Young.
Most of these leaflets were published as companions to the Teachers' Leaflets and Lessons,—the teachers' lessons written in one vein and the children's in another. Even though the subject-matter may be largely duplicated in the two, it seems worth while to keep these separate as showing a simple method of presentation and as suggesting a means of procedure to those who would reach small children.
[THE CHILD'S REALM.]
By L. H. BAILEY.
A little child sat on the sloping strand Gazing at the flow and the free, Thrusting its feet in the golden sand, Playing with the waves and the sea.
I snatch'd a weed that toss'd on the flood And parted its tangled skeins; I trac'd the course of the fertile blood That lay in its meshèd veins;
I told how the stars are garner'd in space, How the moon on its course is roll'd, How the earth is hung in its ceaseless place As it whirls in its orbit old:—
The little child paus'd with its busy hands And gaz'd for a moment at me, Then dropp'd again to its golden sands And play'd with the waves and the sea.
LEAFLET LI.
A SNOW STORM.[68]
By ALICE G. McCLOSKEY.
A chill no coat however stout, Of homespun stuff could quite shut out,
—Whittier.
"Surely, it is going to snow," says Grandfather, as he puts an armful of wood into the old box beside the fire; and a happy feeling comes over you, and you like Grandfather a little better because he has promised you a snow storm. "What a wise old Grandfather he is!" you think. He always seems to know what is going to happen out-of-doors and you wonder how he learned it all. Perhaps I can tell you why Grandfather is so wise. When he was a boy he lived on a farm and was in the outdoor world summer and winter. There he learned to know Nature day by day. This is why he can consult her now as to wind and weather, and why he nearly always understands what she tells him. He is a good observer.
If you hope ever to be as weather-wise as Grandfather, you must begin right away to see and to think. The next time you hear him say, "It is going to snow," put on your fur cap and mittens and go out-of-doors. Is the air clear, crisp, and cold—the kind you like to be out in? Or is it a keen cold that makes you long for the fire-place? Can you see the sun? If so, how does it look? In what direction is the wind? How cold does the thermometer tell you it is?
All the time that you are learning these things the storm will be coming nearer. Then on your dark coat sleeve something soft and white and glistening falls—a snowflake. You touch the bright thing and it disappears. Where did it come from and whither did it go? Others follow faster and faster, jostling each other as they whirl through the air. Look at them closely. Are the crystals large and flowery or small and clear? Put your head back and let them come down on your face. Is their touch soft or do they hurt as they fall?
Perhaps by this time you are very cold and think that supper must be nearly ready. You go into the house, and you find the gray kitten snoozing comfortably on the hearthrug. You snuggle down beside her "to warm your frozen bones a bit," and still the storm and outdoor world are near; for is it not splendid music that the wind is making as it roars down the old chimney or sways the tall pine trees?
Suggestions for Study.
Answer as many of the following questions as you can from your own observations:
1. How did the sky look before it began to snow? During the storm? After the storm? It is always a good thing to look up at the sky.
2. In what direction did the old weather-cock tell you the wind was blowing as the storm came on? Did the wind change during the storm? If so, did the snow change in any way?
3. Look at snow crystals through a tripod lens if you have one. How many points do they have?
4. After supper go to the window, raise the shade, and look out on the stormy night. Tell Uncle John all that you see.
5. On your way to school the next day after a snow storm, have the following in mind to write to us about:
(a) The tracks in the snow. How many do you find? Did Rover make them? the gray kitten? a snow bird? an old crow? a rabbit? a squirrel?
(b) The way the trees and small plants receive the snow. Some hold it, others cast it off: why?
(c) Notice the snow drifts. Where are they highest? Why does the snow pile up in some places and not in others? Is the drift deepest close to buildings or a little way from them? Are the drifts deepest close to the trees, or is there a space between the tree and the drift?
LEAFLET LII.
A PLANT AT SCHOOL.[69]
By L. H. BAILEY.
I dropped a seed into the earth. It grew, and the plant was mine.
It was a wonderful thing, this plant of mine. I did not know its name, and the plant did not bloom. All I know is that I planted something apparently as lifeless as a grain of sand and that there came forth a green and living thing unlike the seed, unlike the soil in which it stood, unlike the air into which it grew. No one could tell me why it grew, nor how. It had secrets all its own, secrets that baffle the wisest men; yet this plant was my friend. It faded when I withheld the light, it wilted when I neglected to give it water, it flourished when I supplied its simple needs. One week I went away on a vacation, and when I returned the plant was dead; and I missed it.
Although my little plant had died so soon, it had taught me a lesson; and the lesson was that it is worth while to have a plant. I wish that every Junior Naturalist would have a plant. It matters little what the plant is. Just drop the seed, keep the earth warm and moist, watch the plant "come up," see it grow. Measure its height at a given time every day. Keep a record of how many times you water it. Make a note of every new leaf that appears. See whether it leans towards the light. If it dies, tell why. Four weeks from the time when you plant the seed, send Uncle John your notes.
A sheet of foolscap paper contains about twenty-eight lines, one line for the notes of each day, and space enough at the top to write your name, date of sowing, kind of seed, and nature of the soil. Open the sheet and on each line at the left side write all the dates for four weeks ahead; then fill in these lines across the two pages day by day as the plant grows. For the first few days there will not be much to write, but you can say whether you watered the earth or not, and where you kept the pot or box. It will be good practice to get into the habit of taking notes. I suppose that the record of the first few days will run something as follows:
Myron Johnson, name of school, age ——. ——, Teacher.
Feb. 2. Monday. Planted six cabbage seeds in loose soil from the chip yard. I put the earth in a small old tin cup, and pressed it down firmly. I made it just nicely moist, not wet. I planted the seeds about equal distances apart and about one-fourth inch deep, and pressed the earth over them.
Fig. 297. An egg-shell farm. The plants, from left to right, are: cabbage, field corn, pop-corn, wheat, buckwheat.
Feb. 2. Did not water to-day, for the soil seemed to be moist enough.
Feb. 3. Watered at 10:30 A. M. Teacher told me to be careful not to make the soil too wet.
Feb. 4. Watered at noon.
Feb. 5. Put the cup nearer the stove so that the seeds would come up more quickly.
Feb. 6. The earth is cracking in two or three places. Watered at noon.
Feb. 7. Went to the schoolhouse and found some of the plants coming up.
Feb. 9. Four of the plants are up. (Here tell how they look, or make a few marks to show.)
When your month's record is all complete, send the sheet, or a copy of it, to Uncle John, and this will be your club dues. See how many things you can find out in these four weeks.
Fig. 298. A window plant that is easy to grow. It is a common garden beet. The end of the beet was cut off so that it could be got into the tin can. A very red beet will produce handsome red-ribbed leaves. In all cases, be sure that the crown or top of the plant has not been cut off too close, or the leaves may not start readily. The beet starts into growth quickly and the growing plant will stand much abuse. It makes a very comely plant for the school-room window. Try carrot, turnip, and parsnip in the same way.
Before the four weeks are past write to Uncle John and he will tell you what next to do. By that time your plants will need transplanting, and he will tell you how to do it. Perhaps you can set some of the plants outdoors later on and see them grow all summer; whether you can or not will depend on the kinds of plants that you grow. If you want to grow asters or cabbages next summer, you can start some of them in February and March.
Quick-germinating seeds, fit for starting in the schoolroom, are wheat, oats, buckwheat, corn, bean, pumpkin and squash, radish, cabbage, turnip. Perhaps some of these require a warmer place than others in which to germinate. If you find out which they are, let Uncle John know.
You can grow the plants in egg-shells, wooden boxes (as cigar boxes), tin cans, flower pots. If you use tin cans it is well to punch two or three holes in the bottom so that the extra water will drain out. Set the can or box in a saucer, plate, or dripping-pan so that the water will not soil the desk or table. It is best not to put it in a sunny window until after the plants are up, for the soil is likely to "bake" or to become hard on top; or if you do put it in such a place, throw a newspaper over it to prevent the earth from drying out.
Suggestions for Plant Study.[70]
Last year hundreds of children sent us records of their plants. This kind of work is most satisfactory to Uncle John. Following is a record which we received in March, from a girl in the fourth grade:
Feb. 16—Monday. I planted seven cabbage seeds in an eggshell. I did not water it.
Feb. 17—Did not see anything.
Feb. 18—Saw a little brown thing.
Feb. 19—Saw a little seed lying on top.
Feb. 20—Saw little sprout.
Feb. 21—Holiday.
Feb. 22—Holiday.
Feb. 23—Holiday.
Feb. 24—Saw two little sprouts.
Feb. 25—The egg-shell was full of sprouts.
Feb. 26—The plant was coming up and the earth was very wet, so I did not water it.
Feb. 27—Saw six sprouts.
Feb. 28—Holiday.
March 1—Holiday.
March 2—Turned the plant around, so it would look toward the light.
March 2—That afternoon I planted the cabbage in a tin can with tissue paper around it, because the cabbage outgrew the eggshell some time ago.
March 3—I put the plant out of the window.
March 4—I did not look at it.
March 5—One of the sprouts began to droop.
March 6—I dug the dirt up around it. Then it was put in the air out of the window.
March 7—Holiday.
March 8—Holiday.
March 9—I put it out of the window.
March 10—It was put out of the window. It was brought in at the close of school.
March 11—Dug the dirt out from the plant and patted it down.
March 12—Watered.
March 13—Put out of the window.
March 14—Holiday.
March 15—Holiday.
March 16—Watered and put out of the window. HELEN.
Fig. 299. Radish seeds germinating between blotting-paper and the side of a tumbler.
Was not this a good record for a little girl to make? I wish that she had told something about the soil in which she planted the seeds. This is always important. In winter you may have some difficulty in getting soil, but in the village a florist will let you have some, and in the country you may be able to get it in the cellar of a grocery store or from your own cellar. Perhaps you can find some in the potato bin. When there is a "thaw," get some soil, even if it is very wet; you can dry it near the stove. Perhaps your schoolhouse will be too cold over Sunday in mid-winter to allow you to grow plants. If so, plant the seeds at home.
When you have planted your seeds, unless you take them up every day, you cannot see how the little plants are behaving down under the soil. I want to tell you how you can know some things that the plants are doing without disturbing them.
Choose an ordinary glass ([Fig. 299]), roll up a piece of blotting paper so that it is a trifle smaller than the glass, and place it inside. Between the blotting paper and the glass, put a few radish seeds or any kind of seed such as you planted in the soil. Keep the blotting paper moist and watch what happens. In four or five days the plants should be "up." Here are some things to think about as you watch them:
1. Note any change in the seeds when they have been moist for a few hours.
2. What happens to the outer coat of the seed?
3. In what direction does the little root grow? The stem?
4. Notice the woolly growth on the root? Does this growth extend to the tip of the root?
5. When the little plant has begun to grow, turn it around so that the root is horizontal. Does it remain in that position?
6. How soon do the leaves appear?
It may interest some of the Junior Naturalists to see the effect of much water on seeds. Suppose you experiment a little along this line. Choose three glasses. In one put seeds into water, in another put them into very wet or muddy soil, and in the third plant the seeds in moist soil, such as seeds are ordinarily planted in. Tell us the results of the three experiments.
A Third-grade Record.
Following is a facsimile reproduction of a spontaneous and unpruned record made by a child in the third grade. The child grew beans in a tumbler against blotting paper, as shown in [Fig. 299]. I hope that this will illustrate to both teacher and children the value of simple note-taking.
Fig. 300. The bean plants that were grown by the third-grade child.
LEAFLET LIII.
AN APPLE TWIG AND AN APPLE.[71]
By L. H. BAILEY.
Yesterday I went over into the old apple orchard. It was a clear November day. The trees were bare. The wind had carried the leaves into heaps in the hollows and along the fences. Here and there a cold-blue wild aster still bloomed. A chipmunk chittered into a stone pile.
I noticed many frost-bitten apples still clinging to the limbs. There were decayed ones on the ground. There were several small piles of fruit that the owner had neglected, lying under the trees, and they were now worthless. I thought that there had been much loss of fruit, and I wondered why. If the fruit-grower had not made a profit from the trees, perhaps the reason was partly his own fault. Not all the apples still clinging to the tree were frost-bitten and decayed. I saw many very small apples, no larger than the end of my finger, standing stiff on their stems. Plainly these were apples that had died when they were young. I wondered why.
Fig 301. This is the branch that tried and failed.
I took a branch home and photographed it. You have the engraving in [Fig. 301]. Note that there are three dead young apples at the tip of one branch. Each apple came from a single flower. These flowers grew in a cluster. There were three other flowers in this cluster, for I could see the scars where they fell off.
But why did these three fruits die? The whole branch on which they grew looked to be only half alive. I believe that it did not have vigor enough to cause the fruit to grow and ripen. If this were not the cause, then some insect or disease killed the young apples, for apples, as well as people, may have disease.
Fig. 302. These are the flowers that make the apples. How many clusters are there?
Beneath the three dead apples, is still another dead one. Notice how shrivelled and dried it is, and how the snows and rains have beaten away the little leaves from its tip. The three uppermost apples grew in 1902; but this apple grew in some previous year. If I could show you the branch itself, I could make you see in just what year this little apple was borne, and just what this branch has tried to do every year since. This branch has tried its best to bear apples, but the fruit-grower has not given it food enough, or has not kept the enemies and diseases away.
The lesson that I got from my walk was this: if the apples were not good and abundant it was not the fault of the trees, for they had done their part.
In the cellar at home we have apples. I like to go into the cellar at night with a lantern and pick apples from this box and that—plump and big and round—and eat them where I stand. They are crisp and cool, and the flesh snaps when I bite it and the juice is as fresh as the water from a spring. There are many kinds of them, each kind known by its own name, and some are red and some are green, some are round and some are long, some are good and some are poor.
Fig. 303. The apples are usually borne one in a place, although the flowers are in clusters. Why?
Over and over, these apples in the cellar have been sorted, until only the good ones are supposed to remain. Yet now and then I find a decayed heart or a hollow place. The last one I picked up was fair and handsome on the outside, but a black place and a little "sawdust" in the blossom end made me suspicious of it. I cut it open. Here is what I found ([Fig. 306]). Someone else had found the apple before I had. Last summer a little moth had laid an egg on the growing apple, a worm had come from the egg and had eaten and eaten into the apple, burrowing through the core, until at last it was full grown, as shown in the picture. Now it is preparing to escape. It has eaten a hole through the side of the apple, but has plugged up the hole until it is fully ready to leave. When it leaves it will crawl into a crack or crevice somewhere, and next spring change into a pupa and finally come forth a small, dun-gray moth. This moth will lay the eggs and then die; and thus will be completed the eventful life of the codlin-moth, from egg to worm and pupa and moth. But in doing all this the insect has spoiled the apple. The insect acts as if the apple belonged to him; but I think the apple belongs to me. I wonder which is correct?
Fig. 304. The Baldwin apple. How many kinds of apples do you know?
Fig. 305. The same Baldwin apple cut in two.
Some of these apples are sound and solid on the inside, but they have hard blackish spots on the outside ([Fig. 307]). This is a disease—the apple-scab. This scab is caused by minute plants and these plants also claim the apple as their own. There are ways by means of which the apple-grower is able to destroy the codlin-moth and the apple-scab; and thereby he secures fair and sound apples.
Insects and diseases and men are all fighting to own the apple.
Ten Things to Learn from an Apple.
When you write your dues to Uncle John on the apple, answer as many of the following questions as you can. You can get the answers from an apple itself. He does not want you to ask anyone for the answers:
1. How much of the apple is occupied by the core?
Fig. 306. This is an apple in which a worm made its home.
2. How many parts or compartments are there in the core?
3. How many seeds are there in each part?
4. Which way do the seeds point?
5. Are the seeds attached or joined to any part of the core? Explain.
6. What do you see in the blossom end of the apple?
7. What do you see in the opposite end?
8. Is there any connection between the blossom end and the core?
9. Find a wormy apple and see if you can make out where the worm left the apple. Perhaps you can make a drawing. To do this, cut the apple in two. Press the cut surface on a piece of paper. When the apple is removed you can trace out the marks.
Fig. 307. These are the apples on which other plants are living.—The apple-scab.
10. When you hold an apple in your hand, see which way it looks to be bigger—lengthwise or crosswise. Then cut it in two lengthwise, measure it each way, and see which diameter is the greater.
Fig. 308. Here is where city boys and girls buy their apples.
LEAFLET LIV.
TWIGS IN LATE WINTER.[72]
By ALICE G. McCLOSKEY.
Along a country road, through a drifted field, over a rail fence, and into the woods I went, gathering twigs here and there as I passed. A February thaw had come and these first messengers of spring, reaching out from shrub and tree, were beginning to show signs of life. Many young people do not believe that spring is near until they hear a robin or a bluebird. The bare little twigs tell us first. Look at them as you go on your way to school. Are they the same color in February that they were in the short December days?
Fig. 309. Red or swamp maple.
When I reached home with my bundle of twigs, it was "fun" to sit by the window and study the strange little things. They were so different one from another, and so interesting in every way, that I decided to ask our boys and girls to gather some winter twigs and tell us about them. Select your twigs from the butternut, willow, hickory, horsechestnut, apple, plum, plane-tree, maple, or any other tree that you come across. Here are some suggestions that will help you in your study:
1. How many colors do you find in one twig? Count the tints and shades. I found eight colors on a small maple branch ([Fig. 309]).
2. Notice the differences in several twigs as they lie on the table. What makes them look so different: size, shape, color, arrangement of buds, the size or shape of the buds?
Fig. 310. Horsechestnut.
Fig. 311. Butternut.
3. On how many twigs are the buds opposite each other? Note the opposite buds on the horsechestnut ([Fig. 310]). On how many are they alternate? Are the buds opposite on the butternut ([Fig. 311])?
4. Which twigs bear the buds singly?
5. When you find two or more buds growing together on a stem, is there any difference in the size of the buds?
6. On how many of the twigs can you see a scar left by the leaf when it dropped off ([Fig. 310] and [Fig. 311] a, a)? Compare the leaf scars on different twigs. Notice the strange scar on the butternut ([Fig. 311]). It looks like the face of an old sheep.
7. Do you see any cocoons on your twig?
8. You all know the rings on an apple twig that tell how much it grew each year. Do you find rings on other twigs? Do you see them on any of these pictures?
9. What do you suppose makes these rings? Do you think there was once a large terminal bud where these rings are?
LEAFLET LV
PRUNING.[73]
By ALICE G. McCLOSKEY.
First snow, then sleet, and then a down-pour of rain—it stormed all day. At night-fall it grew colder. The wind blew fiercely. The twigs and branches fell on the white crust which covered the earth. Nature was pruning the trees.
Have you ever seen your father go into the orchard and prune his trees? Why did he do it? Compare the work done by nature and that which your father does. Which seems to be the more careful pruner?
Let us experiment a little. It will please Uncle John. He always wants his boys and girls to find out things for themselves. Select a branch of lilac or some other shrub. Mark it so that you will always know it. Count the buds on the branch. Watch them through the spring and the summer. Note the number that become branches. You will then know that nature prunes the trees.
If you think a minute, you will see that pruning is necessary in the plant world. Suppose a branch has thirty buds, and that every bud should produce thirty branches, each of which in turn should produce thirty more,—do you think there would be any room left in the world for boys and girls? Would a tree be able to hold so many branches?
You certainly have noticed decayed holes in trees. Did you ever wonder why they were there? I suppose that most persons never wonder about it at all; or if they do give it any passing thought, they say it is only "natural" for trees to have rotten spots. But these rotten spots mean that once the tree was injured. Perhaps the injury was the work of a careless or thoughtless man who pruned the tree. Very few persons seem really to know how to remove the limbs of a tree so that the wound will heal readily.
Fig. 312. The wrong way and the right way to remove a limb.
As you go and come, observe how the trees have been pruned. Do you see long "stubs" left, where limbs have been cut? Yes; and that is the wrong way to cut them. They should be cut close to the main branch or trunk, for then the wounds will heal over better ([Fig. 312]). If we abused our cows and horses, as we sometimes abuse our shade trees, what would become of the animals?
Did you ever see trees that were mutilated to allow of the stringing of telephone and telegraph wires?
Who owns the shade trees along a street or public highway?
LEAFLET LVI
THE HEPATICA.[74]
By ALICE G. McCLOSKEY.
Something new and pleasant happened in my life this year. In February, while the wood was snow-covered and the roadsides piled high with drifts, I saw hepaticas in bloom.
Oh, no! I did not find them out of doors. I had all the fun of watching them from my warm chimney-corner. Then when winds blew fiercely I often went to the window where they grew and buried my head in the sweet blossoms. What do you suppose they told me? If some winter day you feel their soft touch on your face, and smell their woodsy fragrance, you will hear the message.
Perhaps you want to know how the hepaticas found their way into my window-box. Last fall as I walked through a leafy wood I gathered a few plants, roots and all, that I had known and loved in spring and summer days. Among them were hepaticas. These I laid away in the cellar until the first of February. Then I planted them in a corner of the window-box that I had left for them.
Since the little woods plants have come to live with me I have learned to know them well. Perhaps the most important lesson they have taught me is this: The blossoms may be the least interesting part of a plant. Will you find out what hepaticas have to tell as the seasons pass?
Even before you hear the first robin, go into the woods, find one of the hepaticas, and mark it for your own. You will know it by the old brown leaves. Then watch it day by day. The following questions will help you to learn its life story:
1. Where do hepaticas grow, in sunny or shady places? During which seasons do they get the most sunlight?
2. Watch the first sign of life in the plant. Do the new leaves or the flowers come first?
3. Look at the hepatica blossom a long time. How many different parts can you see in it? Whether you know the names of these parts now does not matter. I want you to see them.
4. Notice the three small, green, leaf-like parts that are around the flower bud. As the flower opens see whether they are a part of it, or whether they are a little way from it on the stem.
5. Observe the stem closely. Is it short or long? Hairy or smooth?
6. As the new leaves appear find out whether they are fuzzy on the inside as well as on the outside. Notice how they are rolled up and watch them unroll.
7. In how many different colors do you find hepaticas?
8. Do some smell sweeter than others? If so, does color seem to have anything to do with it?
9. Look at a hepatica plant at night or very late in the afternoon. Also watch it early in the morning and in cloudy weather. Then look at it in bright sunshine. Do you see any change in the flowers? I think you will discover something of much interest.
10. Seed-time among hepaticas is very interesting. Notice what becomes of the three small, leaf-like parts that were underneath the flower. How many seeds are there?
11. How long do you think the leaves of hepatica remain on the plant? Do you suppose they remain green all winter?
12. What becomes of the hepatica plant after it blossoms? Did you ever see one in summer? Describe.
LEAFLET LVII
JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.[75]
By ALICE G. McCLOSKEY.
They call him Jack-in-the-Pulpit, he stands up so stiff and so queer
On the edge of the swamp, and waits for the flower-folk to come and hear
The text and the sermon, and all the grave things that he has to say;
But the blossoms they laugh and they dance, they are wilder than ever to-day;
And as nobody stops to listen, so never a word has he said;
But there in his pulpit he stands, and holds his umbrella over his head,
And we have not a doubt in our minds, Jack, you are wisely listening,
To the organ-chant of the winds, Jack, and the tunes that the sweet birds sing!
Lucy Larcom.
"It is Indian turnip," said I.
"No," said Grandmother, "it's memory root. If you taste it once you will never forget it." And what Grandmother said to me so long ago, I say to every boy and girl, "If you taste it once you will never forget it."
But of all the names for this strange little wood plant, I like Jack-in-the-pulpit best. Though never a word has it said in our lifelong acquaintance, it has been a helpful little "country preacher" to me. As we go into the woods this year, let us make up our minds that we will know more than we ever have known before of its interesting life.
Where do you find the Jack-in-the-pulpit? In what kind of soil does it grow? How does it first come up?
What is the shape of the root? One is enough for the whole class to study and it should be planted again. We do not want the Jack-in-the-pulpit to disappear from our woods.
Does the little hood fold over at first?
The hood or "umbrella" is not the flower. You will find the flowers on the little central stalk that you call "Jack." See whether the blossoms are alike. Look at the blossoms on several plants. Place a stick by the side of one of these plants so that you will know it later in the year when the Jack-in-the-pulpit has disappeared.
Notice whether there are insects in the lower part of the flower stalk. If so, can they get out?
When the blossom has gone, look for the seeds. What color are they in June? In August?
Have you any house plant that you think is related to Jack-in-the-pulpit?
Fig. 313. Tubers of Jack-in-the-pulpit, or Indian turnip.
LEAFLET LVIII.
THE DANDELION.[76]
By ALICE G. McCLOSKEY and L. H. BAILEY.
The first warmth of spring brought the dandelions out of the banks and knolls. They were the first proofs that winter was really going, and we began to listen for the blackbirds and swallows. We loved the bright flowers, for they were so many reflections of the warming sun. They soon became more familiar, and invaded the yards. Then they overran the lawns, and we began to despise them. We hated them because we had made up our minds not to have them, not because they were unlovable. In spite of every effort, we could not get rid of them. Then if we must have them, we decided to love them. Where once were weeds are now golden coins scattered in the sun, and bees revelling in color; and we are happy! L. H. Bailey.
Suggestions for Study.
I. Ask your teacher to let you go out of doors for ten minutes to look at dandelions. In your note books write answers to the following questions:
Fig. 314. Blow the dandelion balloon!
1. At what time of day are you looking for the dandelions? Is the sun shining, or is the sky overcast? Make up your mind to notice whether dandelions behave the same at all hours of the day and in all kinds of weather.
2. How many dandelions can you count as you stand on the school-ground? The little yellow heads can be seen a long distance.
3. Where do they prefer to grow,—on the hillsides, along the roadsides, in the marshes, or in your garden?
II. Gather a basket full of blossoming dandelions, roots and all, take them to school, and ask the teacher to let you have a dandelion lesson. Here are some suggestions that will help you:
1. Each pupil should have a plant, root and all. Describe the plant. Is it tall or short? How many leaves are there? How many blossoms?
2. Hold the plant up so that you can see it well. How many distinct colors do you find? How many tints and shades of these colors?
3. Look carefully at the blossom. How many parts has it? How much can you find out about the way in which the yellow head is made up?
III. Mark a dandelion plant in your garden. Watch it every day. Keep a record of all that happens in its life. Later in the year send Uncle John a little history or account of the plant you have watched.