Woodside Part 8

"That cloud looks as if it were made of snow mountains and caves," said Mary. "See how it changes its shape: now there is another cloud coming to it: now they have melted into one."

"The sky is one beautiful thing that you can watch anywhere, in town or country, in summer or winter," said grandmamma. "It is like a picture-book that is always open; and the pictures are always changing."

The children stood and watched the clouds as they sailed about like majestic swans. Some moved faster than others, and came in front of them. They mingled and they parted, and took all sorts of shapes. The colour changed from pure white to delicate gray; and again a stormy cloud appeared, dark with rain that would fall somewhere before long.

"O grandmamma, look!" they all exclaimed, as the evening sun shone from behind a cloud, gilding its edges with gold.

At last, when they had been for some time feasting their eyes with the beauty of cloudland, something else struck Jack, and he said, "How sweet everything smells after the rain!"

"Yes, it does, Jack. The very gravel paths and garden mould smell fresh; and as to the flowers, they are sweeter than ever."

"I can smell mignonnette," said Mary.

"I can smell the stocks," said Jack.

"And I can smell the honeysuckle," said Annie.

"Do, grandmamma, let us walk round the garden, to smell the flowers,"

said all the children; "the gravel is almost dry."

"Very well, you may go; but don't go on the gra.s.s--keep to the path."

Jack was off at a bound, and his sisters were not much behind; and they visited flower after flower, sniffing their sweet perfumes. The tall white lilies gave out so strong a scent that, sweet as it was, they did not care to bend them down to their faces; but the roses, after the rain, were so delicious that they did not want to let them go. They found, however, that it was not the large showy roses which had the sweetest smell.

They went to the arch along which the honeysuckle was growing, and then they smelled the rich carnations and the fragrant mignonnette.

Grandmamma called to them not to stay out too long; but they said, "May we pick you a little nosegay first? the flowers are just lovely."

"Very well," grandmamma said; "but don't let it be too large."

It really was difficult to know what to leave out when all was so sweet; but they thought mignonnette, a half-blown moss rose, some sweet-peas, a piece of honeysuckle and of white jasmine, some pinks, and a little stock, could not fail to be agreeable. They thought more of what would smell sweet than of bright colour; and grandmamma was well pleased with her nosegay.

"Grandmamma," said Jack, "there is a poor-looking flower like a small stock in the garden; it smells so sweet."

"It is a stock--the night-flowering stock. The flower is dull-coloured and insignificant; but it has a powerful odour. You must not suppose that the sweet scent of flowers is for our pleasure alone. The perfumes are of great use to the plants themselves, and to the insects that live on honey."

"Of what use can they be to the plants?" asked Mary.

"The perfume is chiefly due to a kind of oil found in the blossoms of plants, and sometimes in the leaves as well. Lavender, rosemary, thyme, and herbs used in cooking, are examples of plants whose leaves as well as flowers possess this ethereal oil, as it is called. Caterpillars do not like the taste of these oils, and leave these highly-scented plants alone. It is, however, generally the flowers only that smell; and now you can guess why they are protected by their fragrance. What is the most important part of the flower?"

"Its seed," replied Mary.

"Yes; and as the cattle will not eat the flowers, the seed is safe from them."

"But they eat flowers in hay," said Jack.

"True; but by the time the gra.s.s is cut many seeds have ripened and have dropped out of their husks; and when flowers are dry, as they are in hay, they lose their particular scent and the oil with it. But the very perfume which keeps away the enemies of the flower attracts its friends the insects, whose sense of smell is very keen."

"Why do flowers want insects?" asked Annie.

"Because they want their yellow dust taken from one flower to another, to ripen their seeds, or to fertilize them, as it is called. The seeds are far better if they are ripened by the pollen or dust of another blossom than by the pollen of their own flower. The bees, as you know, get covered with this dust as they visit one flower after another; some of it sticks to the bees, but a great deal of it drops off as they rub against the flowers."

"It's give and take," said Jack. "The flowers give the honey for the insects to eat, and the insects carry their pollen away for them."

"Yes, that's something like it," said grandmamma. "And now you can see why flowers which bloom at night need to have a strong odour. There are some plants which

'Keep their odours to themselves all day'

but towards evening they

'Let the delicious secret out;'

and it is that moths and insects that fly about at night may know whereabouts the flowers are. The bees are busy in the day-time; but there are a great many kinds of moths, in fact there are more moths than there are b.u.t.terflies, and they only fly about at night, and the honey of flowers is their sole food. So you see the scent of flowers has a great use."

"I never thought of that before," said Mary.

"If the flowers which keep open late in the evening have not a very strong perfume, they are generally white or pale yellow, so as to be seen easily. There is one of these plants called the evening primrose--not that it is like a primrose except in colour--at the bottom of the garden walk."

"Do let us go and see if there is a moth on it, grandmamma."

Grandmamma smiled and said, "Jack might go and look, and then he could tell his sisters what he saw."

Jack scampered away, and after a minute or two he was back with the report that he had counted seven winged flies and moths all busy feeding upon the honey of the different blossoms of the plant!

"Insects can smell things at a far greater distance than we can," said grandmamma. "The sense of smell seems to be their strongest sense."

"Do you think it is a good thing to be able to smell so very much, grandmamma?"

"Certainly I do. I know a keen sense of smell is sometimes disagreeable for its owner; but as a rule, when a smell is unpleasant it is unwholesome, and the nose is like a sentinel that gives warning of danger, so that we may either get out of the way or remove the cause.

Some people really seem to have no noses, considering what they will endure in the way of bad smells, and how careless they are about keeping windows shut that ought to be opened to let in the fresh air and sunshine.

"You must remember, children, that your five senses are but doors which the mind must keep open. It is the mind that perceives. We say, 'I perceive this apple is sour;' 'I perceive this cloth is rough;' 'I perceive a smell of roses;' 'I perceive this flower is white;' 'I perceive the birds are singing.' So the word 'perceive' will do for tasting, feeling, smelling, seeing, and hearing."

X.

_THE SIX CLOSED DOORS._

"Say what is it, Eyes, ye see?

Shade and sunshine, flower and tree; Running waters swift and clear, And the harvests of the year.-- Tell me, Ears, what ye have heard?

Many and many a singing bird; Winds within the tree-tops going, Rapid rivers strongly flowing; Awful thunder, ocean strong, And the kindly human tongue.-- These and more an entrance find To the chambers of the mind."

ANON.

The end of the visit had come at last. Tom and Katey were at Woodside spending the last day with their cousins. It was evening: the long shadows were falling over the lawn, and the summer air was still.