WATER BABIES
JACK cleared his throat and began:
“Well, I don’t want to seem to be too proud or conceited, but
to me it is quite a pleasant thing to think that the roots of
Jack-in-the-Pulpit, or _Indian Turnip_, which is my other name, have
been used as a medicine many a time; and that the roots of my cousin
_Calamus_, or _Sweet Flag_, are valuable as a tonic. Some of the _Arum_
family like dry soil and some like damp, marshy places. I do not like
very dry places myself, and Cousin Calamus Sweet Flag likes his feet
wet all the time.”
“Isn’t it wonderful,” Mary Frances leaned forward in her interest.
“Isn’t it wonderful, how plants growing side by side are so different?”
“They eat the same things, yet are so different,” smiled Bouncing Bet.
“For instance, isn’t it surprising that an onion and a lily may grow
side by side? By the way, the _Onion_ and _Lily-of-the-Valley_ and
_Tiger Lily_ and _Day Lily_, and _Hyacinth_, and _Dog-toothed-Violet_,
and _Solomon’s Seal_, and, yes, _Asparagus_, all belong to the same
family.”
“Oh,” murmured the girls, “to think that the onion and the lovely
Lily-of-the-Valley are cousins and belong to the same family!”
“Yes, and Onion is cousin of _Easter Lily_, and _Tulip_ too,” Bet added.
“What about Water Lilies?” asked one of the girls.
“Now,” answered Bouncing Bet, “you’ve mentioned another member of the
same family as the onion, for by this time, no doubt, you have guessed
that I am naming members of the _Lily_ family. _Water Lily_ is one of
their greatest beauties. How she ever manages to be so fragrant, so
lovely, living in mire and slime, only her Maker knows. She is our
dearest Water Baby.”
“Oh, please tell us of more Water Babies,” begged the girls.
“There’s a whole family of big water babies, that you know well,” Jack
broke in. “That is the _Cattail_ family.”
“How interesting!” cried Mary Frances. “I thought cats didn’t like
water.”
Just then the silvery bell of the fairy clock struck the half-hour and
Jack turned toward all the fairy flower folks who were present.
“Time’s up! Thank you, kind friends,” said he, “and now, after a dance,
you may go.”
With that, the sweetest music the girls had ever heard began to play,
and the fairies began to dance, keeping time perfectly with their tiny
feet.
“I’m afraid it’s a dream, and that I’ll wake up,” whispered Eleanor to
Mary Frances.
“So am I!” Mary Frances whispered back, and took hold of her little
friend’s hand.
Suddenly the music stopped and every fairy except Jack and Bet
disappeared.
“It was so beautiful,” said Mary Frances, still speaking in a whisper,
“that we can never thank you.”
“We’re so glad you enjoyed our little surprise,” Jack replied, “for it
shows how you love us flowers. Now I want to tell you something about
the way in which we grow, and how to feed us. You have a garden, and I
feel certain you would like to hear about that.”
“I’ve studied quite a little about seed-babies,” replied Mary Frances.
“I love the little things dearly.”
“Good,” cried Bet; “you’ll love them even more after you’ve heard what
Jack is going to tell you.”
“Do water babies grow in the same way as other plant babies?” asked
Mary Frances.
“In quite the same way,” replied Jack. “I’m going to show you how the
roots of plants take up the food needed, and how the leaves help make
that food right for their digestion.”
“Why, I thought—” began Eleanor.
“Yes?” asked Jack, expectantly.
“I thought that plants breathed with their leaves.”
“Well, they do breathe with their leaves too, but they also breathe
with their stem surface; or, in trees, with the surface of the trunk.
In fact, they breathe all over.”
“I know,” said Eleanor, “that I’ve been taught to wash the leaves of
house plants in order that the leaves might get air.”
“Very wise, indeed,” said Jack. “Air is very, very important to
the leaves, as you will see when I have told you about their way of
growing.”
Just then he took a tiny silver bugle from his shoulder and blew a long
note.
Four little elves appeared. They were dressed in light brown and dark
brown leaves. On their heads, each wore a cap of a different color.
One was red; one was yellow; one, tan; and one, pink. They all stood
“attention,” looking at Jack.
“Bring in the magic tree,” said Jack, and off ran the elves.
In a moment they returned, half carrying and half dragging a plant
which looked like a tiny tree. It was growing in a glass tub, which,
although small, seemed a heavy burden for the little fellows.
“Oh!” Mary Frances sprang up. “Oh, please, let me help,” she begged as
she stooped down to take it.
“Better not, better not,” warned Jack. “That is a fairy tub and will go
to pieces if you touch it.”
By that time the little elves had it in place, and they smiled their
thanks to Mary Frances as they wiped the perspiration from their
foreheads with tiny handkerchiefs made of colored Autumn leaves.
Jack jumped down from his pulpit.
“That will do, attendants,” he said. “Thank you,” and the little elves
ran away.
“We have here,” he continued, “a fairy view of the way in which plants
grow. Come, Bet!”
With that, both the little fairies sprang to the top of the tub, and a
wonderful thing happened.
The tub and the tree began to grow so fast that before you could count
three, they were as high as the girls’ knees, and before you could
count seven, the top of the tree was even with Eleanor’s head.
“That’s tall enough, tree,” cried Jack, and both tub and tree stopped
growing.
“Can you see, young ladies,” he asked as he bent over the side; “can
you see the roots of the magic tree through the glass?”
The girls could see them plainly.
“Did you notice how they pushed their way through the stones and pieces
of rock, and even moved them as they grew!”
“I did!” answered each of the girls.
“I thought it wonderful,” continued Mary Frances, “but I supposed it
was a fairy way of growing.”
“No,” Jack shook his head; “that is the way all plants grow, whether
small or large, only they grow slowly. Notice the smallest roots. They
are hollow and have very thin delicate coverings.”
“You will see why in a minute,” he went on, “but now I wish to call
your attention to something else. In between the stones and sand you
will notice decaying leaves and——”
“Humus!” cried Mary Frances jumping up in excitement.
“Good!” he said. “Humus soup is what the plants eat. The tiny roots
draw it up through their thin walls. In the humus soup is not only
decaying vegetable matter, but very tiny bits of mineral matter,
too—like pepper and salt for the plant, maybe.”
The girls laughed.
“Listen!” he went on earnestly; “for any plant to produce one pound of
dry matter, the roots must take up from 300 to 500 pounds of water.”
“Oh, now, I see why plants must have water,” said Mary Frances. “Now, I
understand why it is so necessary to cultivate—to hold the moisture in
the ground.”
“To make humus soup,” Eleanor added.
“Fine!” cried Jack, rubbing his tiny hands in glee. “It’s splendid to
teach such interested persons. It took human beings many, many years to
find these things out. If only their eyes and ears had been open to us
fairy folks, it wouldn’t have taken so long.”
“Now, human people, in growing garden plants, want to give them the
best kinds of food,” he continued. “So, after studying to find out what
is in the soil that plants need most, they have gathered those things
together from various places, and have made Commercial Fertilizers.
“They are to be had in a powdered form, and are very concentrated plant
food. Nothing is better to use, however, than barnyard manures.”
“One of the best commercial fertilizers is Nitrate of Soda.” (See