from this that paper was named. It was the real bulrush of Moses' ark. I have a piece of this paper rush which was raised in a hot-house; it is very large, a regular triangle in shape, the blossoms on branches all growing out together at the top. The green skin is tough and leathery, not at all like paper, you would say, and it is filled with a quantity of white pith. The skin was spread out on frames and written on-or rather scratched into with a sharp pen-in the curious picture-writing of ancient Egypt. Many of these writings have been found and read by scholars, and you may see them framed and glazed all along the walls of the British Museum.

The spider-wort has all its flowers packed up in a sheath, and has linear leaves.

CHAPTER XLIII

GRASSES

HERE, in this Endogen class, are those precious gifts the grasses, perhaps the most valuable of the whole of the vegetable creation, the food of man and beast. You are surprised now, for you never thought of eating grass, you never heard of any one who did, excepting Nebuchadnezzar in the time of his punishment. But what shall you think when I tell you that without grasses you would have neither bread, beer, gruel, porridge, rice, nor sugar, to say nothing of the mutton and beef, the milk, butter, and cheese, which are supplied to us by animals which live on grasses!

I will give you a description which applies to every kind of grass. The root is creeping, the stem smooth, round, hollow, and jointed, the lower part consisting of leaves; long, narrow, undivided leaves, rolled up and sheathed one over the other. At each joint one of these leaves ceases to embrace the others, and hangs down, tapering off to a point, while the one next above it becomes the outside covering, and so continues till the next joint, where it, too, opens and hangs down, on the opposite side to the former one. Each joint contains a certain quantity of sweet sugary juice. The stem, properly so

called, springs from within the last leaf, and supports the blossom, which grows in a head, tuft, or spike, containing a number of small flowers. Each flower has of its own two scales, by way of corolla and calyx, one over the other, and the outer one ending in a sharp point or bristle, and these, by the assistance of the scales of the next flower, enclose a soft, pulpy, sweet germ, bearing two tiny styles and three stamens, with very long weak filaments, which hang their anthers out far beyond the flower.

If you think about it you will see then that wheat is really a large kind of grass. The spike of blossom is the ear, and in July you may see the anthers hanging out, and a beautiful shape they are-much prettier than any other anthers I know. Though there is much to say, and little space to say it in, it would be unthankful not to dwell for a little while on the beauty and precious thoughts belonging "to seed time and to harvest tide."

The seed is cast forth for the soil to foster, even as our hearts are bidden to foster that more precious seed, and then, if it falls into good ground, it puts forth its green blades, that seem at first to be like a thin veil over the dark brown earth, which then thicken and spread in their well-ordered rows till the whole field bears that loveliest of all hues, the green of young wheat in spring. Taller and taller grow the spikes, sheath and pennon rise, joint above joint, till thick and high they stand, so high, that a little child's head is quite lost between the ranks on either side the field path, and it feels for a moment as if it was lost in a dense forest, and trots along in a fright to overtake its mother. The uppermost sheath swells and opens a long slit, within which is the tender green ear, shooting out daily higher and higher on the slender green stalk, and in time hardening its chaffy scales and putting

forth its anthers. This is the time of dread lest a hailstorm should break or bend the straw and send the whole crop flat, so that it cannot blossom or ripen equally, and may be tied down by bind-weed. It is the time when we most feel that man may do his utmost but God alone can give the increase.

But now the anthers have shed their pollen and fallen, their duty being done; the sweet pulpy germ is hardening and turning to "the full corn in the ear," and over straw and blade and ear a pale rich golden tint is gradually descending; the hillsides and valleys far away stand so thick with corn that they laugh and sing; the fields are truly white to the harvest, and the sunny waves of wind pass over them as they bend softly and rise again.

Now comes the harvest, to which all the village, small and great, have been looking forward so long. Out they all turn, father and mother, great sons and daughters, to reap, and little ones to look after lesser; long paths and gaps open before them, and the beautiful clusters of sheaves appear in the stubble; the merry cry rings out when the last field is reaped

"We have ploughed, we have sowed,
We have reaped, we have mowed."

And then some wild cheery shout to finish with. And then the carting, the loading, the waggons with the noble brown loads heaped high-higher; the round mow built up, and the builder rising higher in the air with every round of sheaves; and the last waggon with the horses with green boughs coming late home, perhaps by the light of the round harvest moon.

"Our work is over, over now,

The good man wipes his weary brow;

GR

This is th

rak or bend t

it cannot bl

by bind-we man may do

called, springs from within the last leaf, and supports t blossom, which grows in a head, tuft, or spike, contain a number of small flowers. Each flower has of its two scales, by way of corolla and calyx, one over other, and the outer one ending in a sharp point or b and these, by the assistance of the scales of the flower, enclose a soft, pulpy, sweet germ, bearing tw styles and three stamens, with very long weak fils which hang their anthers out far beyond the flowe

crease.

anthers have she

done; the sweet

really a large kind of grass. The spike of blossc and ear a pale rich If you think about it you will see then that "the full corn ear, and in July you may see the anthers hang the hillsides and

and a beautiful shape they are

much prettier

em

that they laugh

little space to say it in, it would be unthank as they bend sof other anthers I know. Though there is much t the harvest, and

dwell for a little while on the beauty and precio belonging "to seed time and to harvest tide." The seed is cast forth for the soil to foster,

harvest, to which a

en looking forward s

mother, great sons

then, if it falls into good ground, it puts for and the beautiful c hearts are bidden to foster that more precio to look after lesser blades, that seem at first to be like a thin ; the merry cry ring

dark brown earth, which then thicken and sy` well-ordered rows till the whole field bears

ploughed,

of all hues, the green of young wheat in reaped,

we have sowe we have mowed.

cheery shout to finish ading, the waggons wi gh-higher; the round sing higher in the air the last waggon with ing late home, perha

and taller grow the spikes, sheath and pen above joint, till thick and high they stand a little child's head is quite lost betweer either side the field path, and it feels for it was lost in a dense forest, and trots alo overtake its mother. The uppermost sh opens a long slit, within which is the t shooting out daily higher and higher on

moon.

stalk, and in time hardening its chaffy ser, over now,

wipes his weary brow;

S