“INDEED, we would enjoy hearing about them,” declared both the girls.
“Before I begin to tell you about our peculiar relatives, some of which kill, some of which steal——”
“Oh!” gasped Eleanor.
“Oh!” muttered Mary Frances.
Just at that moment out of the bushes ran the tiniest, littlest bit of a dog that ever lived.
At first the girls didn’t see him, he was so small.
He ran right to Jack, and put a tiny bit of paper in his hand.
“For pity’s sake, Bet,” Jack exclaimed, “I forgot to send back the magic tree and here’s the Queen’s messenger with a command from Her Majesty! Oh, oh, oh!”
“Will it be all right if he sends it back immediately?” Bet asked of the tiny dog, whose head she was patting.
The dog wagged his tiny tail and stood on his hind legs. Bet bent her ear to his mouth.
“It will be all right,” she said aloud, “if you return it this minute.”
“Attendants!” shouted Jack. “Attendants!”
Out ran the tiny elves.
“Take back the magic tree!” commanded Jack, “and apologize to Her Majesty for keeping it over time.”
He took a little box out of his pocket. Opening it, he shook out a shining powder, and before the girls could see how it came about, the tiny tree just as they first saw it, growing in the little tub, was before them. The elves sprang to its sides. The little dog ran on before; and elves, dog and tree vanished from sight.
“I wouldn’t have had it late for anything!” Jack spoke sadly.
“You were teaching us so kindly,” said Mary Frances; “that was the reason you forgot. Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“If you appreciate my lesson so much,” Jack said, smiling, “the Queen won’t mind at all.”
“How glad we are!” cried the girls.
“And now,” Jack went on happily, as Bet danced around; “now, I will begin a story about one cousin—
As you know, plants hang out signs to attract Mrs. Bee and Mrs. Butterfly and other insects to the feast they have spread—the pollen and the nectar feast. The signs are the attractive colors of the flowers.One flower that hangs out a very pretty little white sign is the Sundew. The sign seems to say to the passing fly or gnat, “Come, rest upon one of my pretty, sparkling leaves, and take a meal at my pretty white blossom-table. Stop at Sundew Inn.”The little fly is charmed with the cordial invitation, and lights down upon one of the leaves which glisten all day with a substance that looks like dew.In a moment, he knows his mistake, for the sparkling drops are a sticky fluid which holds the little fellow fast, and the tiny hairs on the leaf’s surface bite him like so many mosquitoes!The leaf rolls up a little, and more of the sticky fluid pours upon him. It is the digestive fluid of the plant. The wicked Sundew Innkeeper is eating up his guest!
As you know, plants hang out signs to attract Mrs. Bee and Mrs. Butterfly and other insects to the feast they have spread—the pollen and the nectar feast. The signs are the attractive colors of the flowers.
One flower that hangs out a very pretty little white sign is the Sundew. The sign seems to say to the passing fly or gnat, “Come, rest upon one of my pretty, sparkling leaves, and take a meal at my pretty white blossom-table. Stop at Sundew Inn.”
The little fly is charmed with the cordial invitation, and lights down upon one of the leaves which glisten all day with a substance that looks like dew.
In a moment, he knows his mistake, for the sparkling drops are a sticky fluid which holds the little fellow fast, and the tiny hairs on the leaf’s surface bite him like so many mosquitoes!
The leaf rolls up a little, and more of the sticky fluid pours upon him. It is the digestive fluid of the plant. The wicked Sundew Innkeeper is eating up his guest!
“Just like the Spider and Fly in the old story,” said Mary Frances, repeating the lines:
“‘Will you walk into my parlor?’Said the spider to the fly,‘’Tis the prettiest little parlorThat ever you did spy.’”
“‘Will you walk into my parlor?’Said the spider to the fly,‘’Tis the prettiest little parlorThat ever you did spy.’”
“‘Will you walk into my parlor?’
Said the spider to the fly,
‘’Tis the prettiest little parlor
That ever you did spy.’”
“Exactly!” agreed Jack. “The sundew invites the fly for the same reason that the spider does—because it needs it for food.”
“Oh,” shuddered Eleanor, “do plants eat animals?”
“Not if they can help it,” replied Jack. “Many, many years ago, when the sundew’s great-great-great-great-grandparents were unable to find the kind of food they needed, they developed this method of getting nitrogenous food, to keep from starving.”
“Oh, I see,” said Mary Frances, looking wise.
“Is the sundew the only plant which eats insects?” asked Eleanor; “and does it grow around here?”
“It grows in every section of this country,” replied Jack, “and also in Europe and Asia.”
“The Pitcher Plant, which is found in soggy marshes, eats insects, too,” he went on; “only it manages in a different way. Its leaves are shaped like vases or pitchers, and are usually half filled withwater; its flowers are reddish purple in color, easily deceiving the flies into thinking they are meat. The insects are attracted also by the sweet fluid, which is on the edge of the ‘pitcher,’ and crawl or slide down the slippery hairs which line the upper part.
“Once down, the bristly hairs prevent them from climbing back, and they are drowned in the water. The plant eats the soup which their bodies make. The form of Pitcher Plant which grows in the western states has vases large enough to drown small birds and field mice.”
“It isn’t a pretty story,” commented Mary Frances.
“Not a bit,” agreed Eleanor.
“It would make us ashamed, wouldn’t it, Jack,” Bouncing Bet was speaking, “if anybody but Mother Nature had invented that way of keeping things moving?”
“She must have had good reason,” replied Jack.