Wood-anemone, margins of fields; New England.
Rue-anemone, same localities; New England.
Hepatica, woody hill-sides; Middle States.
Bloodroot, rich open woods; New England.
Blue violet, fields, meadows, hills; everywhere.
Draba verna, sandy fields and road-sides.
Spring beauty, moist open woods; New Jersey, South.
Wild geranium, open woods and fields; New England.
Erigenia, damp soil; New York, Pennsylvania.
Quaker ladies, road-sides, fields; everywhere.
Dandelion, road-sides, fields; everywhere.
Azalea, New England woods and elsewhere.
Benzoin—spice-bush—damp woods; New Jersey, Pennsylvania.
American mistletoe, New Jersey and South.
TWO ANCIENT FAMILIES.
A PAPER READ BEFORE THE "LITTLE LITERATI" BY MOTHER.
I fear I appear before you but illy prepared for the evening duties, as, mother-like, my week has been full of cares—unusually so. Being left to choose my own subject, I thought to speak briefly of a worthy but almost extinct family, or, indeed, I should say two families.
Many grown persons persist in declaring that the families have passed entirely out of existence, but I find there are a few of them to be found still on the rugged mountain-sides, on the plains, and down in the deep green valleys. Little children know them best, as they seem to be modest, retiring families, seldom or never intruding themselves on the notice of others. I conjecture, from the freedom with which little children use their names, that they must be a kindly, simple people. My little Mary, or Minnie, tells me almost every day of little Johnnie He or little Sallie She, and in my mind's eye I see little Johnnie He coming through his father's gate on his way to school—a plump, rosy-cheeked little fellow in white pants and blouse.
Most amiable and fair he looks,
That little Johnnie He,
While following close behind his heels
Is little Sallie She.
With flaxen curls and laughing eyes,
This little girl we greet,
Exclaim, "How fair is Johnnie He!
And Sallie She, how sweet!"
Very little is known of the ancestors of these simple people who dwell among the hills. It is believed they were a worthy, renowned family in their day and generation; but, alas! history has given us all too little of them. It is known that they were born hundreds of years ago, living bright and useful lives in the earliest ages of civilization. History speaks freely of one who may have been the great-great-grandfather of the present Hes (much less is known of the Shes), and while speaking of him forgets not to take his travelling artist along to sketch him. This noble ancestor is Mr. Zaccheus He, and he is in the act of performing the feat that saves his name from utter oblivion. The deed is made doubly impressive by the travelling artist sketching the same. The poet too lends his sublime aid to render the act one never to be forgotten. In the present age of the world, many parents, from some deep-seated prejudice, strive to blot out this unpretending family entirely; but little children with tearful eyes bring the Historian, the Artist, and the Poet at once to the rescue, exclaiming, "Then why does the book say,
"Zaccheus He
Did climb the tree?'"