“If I am not mistaken,” said Jean, “it is what we call fox-glove. It is common on the edges of woods.”
“We call it fox-glove on account of its resemblance to the thumb of a glove. For the same reason it has elsewhere the name of gloves of Notre-Dame, gloves of the Virgin, and finger-stall. The name digitalis, borrowed from the Latin, also refers to the finger-shaped flower.”
“It is a great pity that fine plant is poisonous,” commented Simon; “it would be a pleasure to see it in our gardens.”
“It is, indeed, cultivated as an ornamental plant, but in gardens under stricter vigilance than ours. As for us, my friends, who hardly have time to watch over flowers, we shall do well not to put digitalis within reach of children by introducing it in our gardens. The whole plant is poisonous. It has the singular property of slowing up the beating of the heart and finally stopping it. It is unnecessary to tell you that when the heart no longer beats, all is over.
Hemlock
“Hemlock is still more dangerous. Its finely-divided leaves resemble those of chervil and parsley. This resemblance has often occasioned fatal mistakes, all the easier, because the formidable plant grows in the hedges of enclosures and even in our gardens. A plain enough characteristic, however, enables us to distinguish the poisonous weed from the two pot-herds that resemble it: that is the odor. Rub that tuft of hemlock in your hands, Simon, and smell.”
“Ouf!” said Simon, “that smells very bad; parsley and chervil have not that horrid odor. When one is warned, no mistake can be made, in my opinion.”
“Yes, when one is warned; but those who are not take no account of the smell and mistake hemlock for parsley or chervil. It is in order to be warned that you are listening to me this evening.”
“You are doing us a great service, Maître Paul,” said Jean, “by putting us on our guard against these dangerous plants. Every one at home ought to know what you have just taught us, so as not to gather a salad of hemlock instead of chervil.”