Touch-me-not lives in moist places. Her feet stand in the damp earth and
her head looks up above the bushes. Other plants love the damp, rich
soil along the brookside, and Touch-me-not is sometimes crowded for
room.
[Illustration: [Touch-me-not]]
She is a tender little plant, this Touch-me-not, and yet she is brave
and wise. She knows that if she is to live she must have strong seeds,
and that to produce strong seeds she must be strong herself and
beautiful.
She finds it easy to be beautiful in the pleasant world, where the sun
shines upon her and the breezes fan her.
So forth from the axil of every leaf she swings out her dainty buds.
They open their petals at last, all yellow and spotted with red. Cunning
caves for the bee, they swing on slender stems. The tangle of weeds by
the brookside is dotted all over by the bright blossoms. Light as they
are, their slender stems bend under their weight.
The bees see them from a distance; they are attracted by the bright
colors and fly to visit the touch-me-nots. They search for honey, and of
course they find it, for the touch-me-not has wisely provided nectar for
bees and birds.
The pretty yellow flowers contain rich honey in the little spur at the
back. The end of the spur turns down, and it is in this turned-down tip
the honey is made. From there it runs into the upper part of the spur,
where the bees can reach it.
The moist roadside in many places is dotted with yellow touch-me-not
flowers. They hang like earrings from their stems, and many call the
plant “jewelweed” because of them. It is a pretty sight in the morning
to see the bright jewels sparkling in the dew.
“Rubythroat” flashes about among them. “Rubythroat” is our northern
humming bird. His throat is ruby red and sparkles in the sun. The rest
of his body is green and brown. He shines like a jewel in the sunlight
and darts from flower to flower. You cannot watch him, he flies so fast.
But when he wishes a sip of honey he poises on his tiny wings before the
jewelweed.
Into the dainty swinging flower he darts his slim black bill. He is
partial to the honey of the touch-me-not, and wherever it grows in
abundance you will be sure to see the rubythroats darting about.
Rubythroat does the flower a favor in return for the honey he gets.
You know about that. He carries pollen to it from some other flower.
This new pollen enables strong seeds to form. The jewelweed is very
careful to have strong seeds. It covers the pistil with a hood of its
own anthers. Behind the anthers in a dark little room the pistil waits
until all the pollen is gone and the anthers have fallen off.
The flower does not wish its pistil to receive its own pollen. The earth
is crowded, and the seeds must be strong to grow. So the pistil is
hidden behind the screen of the anthers until there is no more pollen
left; then it comes forth and waits for the birds or the bees to bring
it fresh pollen.
The anthers and pistil are not on the floor of the touch-me-not flower,
as they are in the nasturtium. They hang from the roof like tiny
chandeliers.
The bees do not walk over them, but touch them with their heads or
backs, and the humming bird touches them with the top of its bill or
with the feathers on its face.
When the birds or the bees have brought the pollen, the yellow corolla
falls off and the fruit grows fast.
It is a smooth and delicate fruit, and it may be you know what it does
to help the seeds find room.
When the fruit is ripe, the outer covering all of a sudden splits and
curls up with considerable force, acting like a spring and shooting the
seeds far over the thicket.
[Illustration: [Touch-me-not]]
It spreads them far and wide, so they have a better chance to find a
place to take root when the time comes.
The fruits are so eager to send the seeds on their journey, and so
fearful that some harm will come to them, that they snap them away if
any one touches the pods. If you jostle these eager plants you will hear
the seeds flying in all directions. If you touch a seed-pod it goes off
in your fingers. No wonder we call the plants “touch-me-nots”! Some call
them “snapweed” or “snappers,” and the botany calls them “impatiens,”
because they are so impatient!
They have yet another name, “lady’s eardrop,” and I do not know how many
more. People must like the pretty things to give them so many names.
[Illustration: [Touch-me-not]]