And this was the reason why it was named, by the fairies, the Kangaroo Plant. Watching its opportunity, the Poa Alpina started every springtime, from the lower meadows, to go up on the mountain tops nearer the stars, in time becoming victorious, like an army. Instead of dropping its ripe seeds to the ground, or having them blown far by the winds, or letting them [[187]]leap out, like popcorn, or lending them the wings, which dandelions have, or trusting to birds, or sailors, or men who sell seeds to farmers, the Poa had a new way of its own. The mother stalk held her babies, that is the seeds, as long and as close to her, as an opossum keeps her cubs or a kangaroo her kittens.
Instead of first weaning them and then letting them go away to play or ramble abroad, out of her sight, she kept them all with her until they were full grown, that is, until they had both leaves and roots; for these are the legs and arms of a plant, whether it be a Johnnie Jump Up, or Sweet William, or Ragged Robin, or Dusty Miller, or Lady’s Slipper, or Four o’Clocks, or what not. So, before Jack Frost could bite them hard, or the giants crush them, or a snow storm bury them, or an avalanche roll over and flatten them out, or a cow eat them up, they hid themselves in all the crannies, cracks, and crevices of the rocks and down deep too. Wherever any sand, or dust, or moss, or moisture was, there you would find a whole family of the young folks of the Poa family settled down, all growing up and able to take care of themselves.
Now like a great army they are, indeed. They laugh at winter’s cold, or icy wind, or driving sleet, and even at that scorching south wind, the Föhn, that blows for over two weeks [[188]]in the spring time, and again, for a fortnight in the autumn. By and bye, in a little while, according to the fairy clock, that is, in a million years or so, the Kangaroo Poa had spread all over Switzerland. Twenty thousand cows were made happy, for they loved to browse on the Poa pastures, and liked nothing better. Now, nearly two million of Swiss cows enjoy the summer feast, while their bells tinkle on the hillsides.
When the calves were too big for their mother’s milk, and the lady cow got tired of being a restaurant for her booby calf, she pushed it away, and said, in cow language, “go and eat Poa.” Sometimes the calf did not like to give up its baby habits, learned in the nursery. Then, it behaved like the naughty boy, who said “I’m hungry and bread I won’t have. I want cake.”
Then the mother cow tried another plan. She would give notice to the cowherd, in her own language, that she had done her part, and wanted him to attend to her naughty, and bad tempered, or sulky calf. Then the man would put a leather strap with sharp nails on it, over the calf’s muzzle, so that, when calfy wanted refreshment, it would be like sticking pins into its mother. Then the cow would push the calf away and make it learn to eat Poa.
But once having taken a bite, the calf never [[189]]again wanted to eat anything else. It tasted as good as candy to a little girl. So Switzerland became one of the greatest countries in the world for butter and cheese. The fairies rejoiced, too, for the Poa, with its pretty blossom, made the meadows, which were their dancing hall, more beautiful, and for them, it was like waltzing on a cloth of gold.
And to this day, the Alpine Poa is as wonderful, among plants and grasses, as the opossum and kangaroo are among quadrupeds.
The fairies, that had succeeded in so clothing the edelweiss, that lives among the rocks, that it was able to resist the frost and cold, were now very happy over their second venture. Like a brave and vigilant sentinel, the new flower kept guard. The Poa was clothed, so as to delight the cattle, while the edelweiss was dressed for beauty, and to please mortals. Thus, both man and beast were blessed.
And it is, even yet, the flowers that, with vigilance and valor, guard Switzerland against the assaults of the ice giants and the frost army. These would make the Land of the Edelweiss like the regions of the North Pole, if it were not for the flowers and the grass. That is the reason why the Swiss people are not like Esquimaux. Their beautiful country holds the chamois, and [[190]]the ibex, and the birds, instead of walruses and polar bears; and the people have bread, and honey, and cream, instead of seal meat and blubber. [[191]]