If there be no flower, how are you to get the seed?
I never thought of that. But flowers are always such pretty light things, that one would be sure to see them a long way off on a gum tree.
But if instead of having fine red leaves, my lad, the flower had none, and the other part was much the same colour as the leaves, do you think you would notice it so readily?
No, father. Won’t I give a good look out for it after this; for I am sure none of our boys at school ever talk of gum flowers, though we often go to gather wattle blossoms.
To go on with our tree—we will take the root, and there is a Stringy Bark blown over in the last storm.
And a strong root it has, too. How the wind must have puffed to overcome the weight of all the gravel and clay resting on that lot of roots, especially as they held the gravel like so many fingers. So these are the suckers of moisture and food out of the soil.
Yes, but you do not see the real suckers. They are very small, and were broken off and left behind. Those are called spongioles, because they suck up like a sponge. They are situated at the ends of the small fibres of roots, and have their mouths always open.
Yet I don’t see why the moisture rises. If I put my mouth into the rain cask, the water will not rush up into it.
Your mouth is too big. Supposing you put a lump of salt near a little water, so as to be touched, what will be the result?
The salt will gradually absorb the water, until there be none left.