Spring is dawning in the woods and hedgerows, as in the garden. The ivy is now beautiful; and we can' gather long graceful wreaths, or groups of variouslycoloured and veined leaves, with the remaining fronds of evergreen ferns, to fill vases or baskets. The fronds of the feather mosses (hypnums) are this month in their fullest perfection of growth and colour; for the rains of autumn and winter have nourished them, and the sun and winds of March have not yet faded their greenness. If they are to be preserved for ornament, or to fill saucers, they should be gathered now, and put at once into paper bags, and placed in a dark closet to dry. This is the best plan I know to preserve the colour. The first section of Hooker, the acrocarpi, which have their urns or capsules at the end of their branches, are now in their greatest beauty; the young urns of most of them standing above the fresh green leaves, like tiniest fairy spears, or weapons for warlike butterflies; from the half-inch high " tall earth-moss (phaseum bryoides) to the giant of English mosses, the four or five inches tall common hair-moss, goldilocks, great golden maiden-hair, moor silk (polytrichum commune), with its urn covered by a hairy Crusoe-like cap or veil. With what a beautiful garment do the various lichens and mosses cover the most barren spots of earth! When our heavenly Father placed man in this world, he gave him not only plants bearing fruit for food, but flowers to please the eye; and he has provided for the continuance of even the smallest and least observed. The seeds of the mosses are placed on a slender pillar (columella) enclosed in an urn, or capsule, the opening of which, in a few genera, is surrounded by an elastic ring, but in most by a fringe, sometimes called teeth (the peristome), generally pink. In all the pleurocarpi, or mosses that send out their urns from the side of the fronds, such as the feather mosses (hypnums), and some others, there are two rows of teeth, generally of different colours. The teeth are covered by a lid, coneshaped (the operculum), and this is covered by a veil (calyptra), resembling the high peaked head-dresses worn by ladies of rank during the thirteenth and four teenth centuries. As spring advances, the veil drops off, and after a time the lid follows, and then the bright peristome takes sole charge of the precious contents of the urn; opening only to soft warm air, and closing at every damp cold wind till the seeds are perfected. The screw-mosses (tortula) have the long pink peristome spirally twisted. Most of the bristle-mosses (arthotrichum), and a few others, have capsules inclosed in the leaves, like a rosebud in its calyx. The jungermannia are nearly related to the mosses, through the split-mosses (andrea), and also delight in damp banks, or other moist places. When their seeds (spores) are ripe, the capsule, which is placed on a slender stalk, divides into four parts, resembling petals; hence their old name, star-lip. The daisy, too (day's-eye), now on a short recumbent stalk, opens its broad eye to the warm sunshine; but in his absence closely shuts its white petals over the yellow flowerets, to protect them from chilling winds and rain. Thou favourite of poets, be a teacher Of humble household truths. O, lovely preacher, Thy many-tiny flowerets, when the cold, The dark, the low'ring cloud frowns o'er the field. Love is thy text-beneath its genial smile Beneath love's influence, serene and clear. Mosses and daisies placed in a saucer, in a sunny window, are no inappropriate ornament to your home, dear little daisy-like cottage maidens, who so carefully wrap baby under your own cloaks, when permitted to carry it abroad. Another February guest is the perennial mercury, with its spikes of green flowers; but like many other plants pleasing to the eye, it is poisonous. Dear little friends, I see you peeping into hedges, eager to find the first darling primrose, or, more precious still, the sweet wild violet, and running home to show your treasure to your dear ones there. Your heavenly Father sent these flowers for his creatures' pleasure, for his little ones' playthings. Every enjoyment that we dare thank him for, is innocent; but none can be innocent when we fear to think He sees us, or dare not thank Him. J. A. MARCH. Now as MARCH, with its varying moods, is come. calm and gentle as the lambs which begin to dot the meadows, then fierce and howling like the wolves, which used long ago in our own England to devour the pretty bleating creatures and their dams. A few of the migratory birds are returning and joining their notes to Robin's, our winter pensioner and constant musician. Buds on the trees and shrubs begin to swell; but only the hawthorn, in sheltered hedges, puts forth its leaves. In the gardens, this month, the leaves of most of the bulbous-rooted plants show themselves, and with the flowers of the crocus, polyanthus, hypaticas, anemonies, daisies, pink, white, and crimson, and many other plants, make our flower-beds and borders gay. The currant and gooseberry bushes, and, on sunny walls, the peach trees in blossom, promise a rich treat in summer. In the woods and hedge-banks wild flowers are every where springing up. Dear wild flowers, dear old friends and playfellows, I used to talk to you sixty years ago; and even now I love to whisper a few affectionate words to you. Wild flowers, that bloomed along the path of the young Jesus as he went with his parents from Nazareth to Jerusalem; wild flowers, and small birds twittering and flitting from bough to bough, he forgot you not when the youthful Jesus became God's Christ, and man's best benefactor. Fair primrose (spring rose, first rose) with your pretty expressive name, moonlike tint, and soft odour-inhabitant of Palestine as well as of our island, that gentle eye that never darted an angry glance, or cast a proud or envious look, may have looked with pleasure on your delicate beauty. Sweet, sweet violets; white, purple, or pale lilies, you may hide yourselves under taller plants, but your fragrance declares your presence, as the happiness they spread around them shows where sweet tempers and duty abide. Starry-eyed, white, or pale lily-tinted wood-anemonies, hanging your unexpanded flowers over your fresh green leaves, you are but waiting for warm gales and sunshine. Kind robertina, that helped to adorn winter's hedgebanks with your warm crimson leaves, you are early to welcome spring. Daffodils, surrounded by ranks of green spears, it is time for you to put on your yellow robes, for we expect a grand concert next month; nightingale (a sweet household name in many homes, a sacred word to many a maimed sufferer), cuckoo, and many other first-rate musicians, are then coming to visit us, and join their notes to the lark, and other stay-at-home performers. Daisies, constant, ever-welcome friends, you are pouring troop after troop over every green field. Flowers, dear wild flowers, your winged sisters, the butterflies, rejoice to see you, and the humble bee hums his welcome. The finely cut, delicate leaves of many of the umbelliferous (umbrella-like) plants, make the banks fresh and green; the fronds of most ferns now begin to raise themselves from their winter slumber; but they still curl themselves snugly up, and only turn their brown chaffy stipes (stalk) to the uncertain sky. The hypnums, in woods, or on moist shady banks, are still freshly green. Some of the thread-mosses (bryums), and other acrocarpi, are throwing off their veils, not fearing being sun-burnt. The palm-like, long-leaved thread-moss(bryum ligulatum), has sent up its many pale green urns, soon to change to pale brown, then to deep red. The swan-neck bends gracefully, like its namesake. The long-beaked thread-moss looks drolly like a party of high-born dames, with their peaked head gear blown about by rude gales. The capsules of the hygrometric cord - moss on their stems, so sensitive to moisture, have as grotesque a look as the caps of clowns in a pantomime; their colour changes from golden green to golden brown. The days are now as long as the nights; the roads are cleaner; and what if March, capricious March, sometimes indulges in a snowstorm, or shower of icy sleet, or her drying winds parch the ground, and howl like November, she may smile kindly, graciously tomorrow. Every bird sings, chirps, or caws "Spring is coming! Spring is come! Bees and gnats hum the same song, frogs and toads croak it from every sunny pool or ditch; and no doubt think their voices as sweet as the birds. We may differ from this opinion; but let us leave them to the charm of their own music, and walk quietly away, and not stone them because we do not approve of their song, shape, colour, or movements. No doubt they think us great, ugly, uncouth, useless creatures; for they quickly hop away. Welcome March; snowy, windy, boisterous, howling March! Welcome March; bright, calm, warm, fresh, green, beautiful March! A SPRING EVENING IN PALESTINE, EIGHTEEN CENTURIES AGO. The lingering sunset brightened all the west, When seated on a fountain's steps were met A group of Judah's daughters. Stately some In their dark graceful loveliness, as were The tall palms that surrounded them. There too Who played among the spring-flowers with wild glee, J. A. |