“O, I know where they grow!” said Phil. “I always go for them every year, just over that old fence, in a boggy place. I like them better than almost any of the plants, they are so curious. But where’s a basket?”
“Here, Amy!” called Bessie White; “can’t you let me put my small lunch in your big basket with yours, and let Phil have mine for a specimen basket?”
This arrangement being satisfactorily made, they moved along, one of the girls telling the new comers of the Arethusa and its name. And it was decided that all Miss Walters might tell them concerning the flowers should be written down, for the benefit of all, as they were often separated, searching for specimens.
In the next meadow they came upon beds of Menyanthes—an ugly name, and its common one of buck-bean is not much better. They could find but few perfect specimens of the pretty white velvety flowers, with their yellow and brown anthers, as it was rather late for them.
They found Pogonias and buds of Calopogon,—pretty pinkish flowers,—both of which Miss Walters told them were closely related, and, indeed, belonged to the same family as the Arethusa. This was the Orchid family, which contained a large number of beautiful but strange plants, about a dozen of which were common in New England.
On the edge of an overgrown ditch near by they found very nice specimens of Andromeda.
“See,” said Miss Walters, “how white and lovely these bells are, in spite of the cold wet places where it is compelled to grow. It is named after Andromeda, famed in Grecian myths, a victim to her mother’s pride of beauty. Her mother had dared to compare herself to the sea nymphs, for which they, enraged, sent a huge monster to ravage the coast. To appease the nymphs, her father thought he must sacrifice his daughter; so he chained her to the water’s edge; but as the monster approached, Perseus, assisted by the gods, killed him, delivered Andromeda, and afterwards married her.”
The party now turned from the meadows on to higher ground. Houstonias and violets, with here and there Potentilla, covered the ground, the last so called because it was supposed to be powerful in medicine, potens, from which it is derived, meaning powerful.
The Saxifrage on the rocks, derived from Latin words, indicating its manner of growth.
Anemones, or wind flowers, were not entirely gone; so named because it was formerly thought the flowers only opened when the wind blew.