NOTES FOR FEBRUARY.
A paperinScience Gossipfor August, 1886, gives a very interesting description of the sprouting of a sycamore seed.
These seeds have wings especially adapted for floating a heavy body. In November they are caught by the wind, and whirl round and round till they reach the earth. They always grow in pairs, although, if looked for now among the grass or on the wayside, many of them will be found single, having been separated from their companions. If a few of the double seeds are brought into the house, placed in a warm situation under a bell glass, and kept watered, their growth may be watched, and some marvels of nature learned.
Every process is wonderful: the separation of the double seed, showing their junction to the stalk, then the appearance of the rootlets which are the first signs of growth, and then the cotyledons, or “nursing leaves,” whose function in life is to nourish and protect the pair of true leaves hidden within their embrace, till they are strong enough to defend themselves, when the cotyledons fall off and die.
The folding of the cotyledon is a study in itself. “They are folded so as to occupy the least space,i.e., first fold in half, and then in half again, like a ribbon reduplicate, and not coiled round (circinate) like a fern frond, which, growing later in the season, requires less protection.”
So the life goes on, showing fresh wonders and beauties at every stage of its growth, each step showing the wisdom and love of the great Creator and Designer.
Plants grown indoors need constant care; it is advisable only to keep as many as can be properly attended to. Very few can stand gas, and all thrive better if removed when it is lighted. The watering, too, needs careful attention; they should not be kept too wet during the cold weather, although they must never get quite dry. They need plenty of light, so it is important that the windows should be kept clean, to allow a full measure of sunshine. The pots must be kept clean, and when a green growth appears on the outside they should be well scrubbed. They must not stand in a draught, which causes a chill, and checks the growth of the plants.
Outdoor gardening this month depends greatly on the weather. If cold, all tender plants must still be protected, and even if warm they should not be encouraged to grow, as frosts may be expected for some time to come yet. Unless it is actually frosty, rose-trees needing it may be pruned, also raspberry, gooseberry, and currant trees. Turf may be re-laid, and, if necessary, grass-seed sown; the grass should be rolled after wet weather.
Pay attention to bulbs now; crocuses and snowdrops should be starting. As soon as tulips, hyacinths, and other bulbs show their foliage, they should be protected at night by a light covering, until the frosts are over.
In February, annuals may be sown indoors in boxes, and gradually hardened off for the garden, where everything should now be made tidy and ready for the spring, which will soon be coming.
In the warmer counties of England the wild daffodil will soon be flowering. The old-fashioned “daffy-down-dilly,” though only of late years fashionable in town drawing-rooms, has always been a favourite with poets and artists, and all true lovers of the country. Wordsworth gives a beautiful description of “a host of golden daffodils.”
“Ten thousand saw I at a glance,Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.”
“Ten thousand saw I at a glance,Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.”
“Ten thousand saw I at a glance,Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.”
“Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.”
And who does not remember Herrick’s quaint but beautiful verses, beginning:
“Fair daffodils, we weep to seeYou haste away so soon.”
“Fair daffodils, we weep to seeYou haste away so soon.”
“Fair daffodils, we weep to seeYou haste away so soon.”
“Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon.”
Or Spenser’s equally charming description of Cymoënt with her companions playing by a pond, and
“Gathering sweete daffadillyes, to have madeGay girlonds from the sun their forheads fayr to shade.”
“Gathering sweete daffadillyes, to have madeGay girlonds from the sun their forheads fayr to shade.”
“Gathering sweete daffadillyes, to have madeGay girlonds from the sun their forheads fayr to shade.”
“Gathering sweete daffadillyes, to have made
Gay girlonds from the sun their forheads fayr to shade.”
The name sometimes given them of “Lent Lilies” is peculiar to places where they flower; in colder countries, where it would have no significance, the name is unknown.
Like every other growing thing, the daffodil has much about it worthy of notice. It deals in sixes; six lobes to the corolla, and six pollen stamens, but a three-lobed ovary, and only one seed-leaf.
The wild daffodil has little scent, but being, like the majority of spring flowers, of a bright yellow colour, it is easily seen by the day-flying insects, on whose visits it depends for fertilisation, while some of its near relatives, which are chiefly visited by night moths, are white and strongly scented, in order to be conspicuous even in the darkness.
At this time of year, when the more hardy birds are beginning to return to our shores, as well as in autumn when they are migrating, a great number of our songsters are killed annually by flying against telegraph wires.
Those that fly by night are the most frequent victims, but besides these many either fly or are blown against the wires, and killed or injured so severely that they die before long.