LESSON XXI. DISPERSION OF SEEDS. 1. THERE are many curious provisions1 for the dispersion of seeds, the evident design of which is that no portion of the earth shall be destitute of vegetation. Many seeds, like those of the maple, are winged, or furnished with lateral2 expansions to catch the wind, and thus are blown to places remote from where they grew. The small seed of the dandelion is carried by a long Seed of the Dan delion. and light stem, at one end A Pair of winged Seeds of the Maple. tles, which floats so easily in the air, carries the seed to great distances. 2. Some seeds, having a shelly or an oily covering that can resist the action of water, are borne by the waves to the distant islands of the sea. Many seeds are destroyed, but the number produced is beyond conjecture. A single stalk of tobacco may produce one hundred and sixty thousand seeds; and an elm-tree has been estimated to have more than six hundred thousand. 3. There is, apparently, a prodigality of flowers and seeds. It is believed by physiologists that those parts of the fungi or flowerless plants, such as rust, mildew, and mushrooms, which answer to the seeds of other plants, are universally diffused through the atmosphere, ready to vegetate whenever an opportunity presents itself, and that every fungus plant may produce not less than ten million germs. The vast extent of vegetable life, and the care which Nature has taken for its preservation, are thus happily described by an English poet: 4. "Then spring the living herbs, profusely wild, Whether he steals along the lonely dale,' 5. 11 In silent search, or through the forest, rank Of Nature naught disdains; thoughtful to feed From field to field, the feathered seeds she wings." THOMSON. 6. Birds, beasts, and insects aid in the dispersion of seeds, so that whether a Delos15 rises in a night from beneath the waters, or the coral terraces16 " spring up to the crested wave," it is but a short time before "The turf looks green where the breakers1 rolled," and the recent island is fitted for the habitation of man. 7. "Seeds to our eyes invisible, will find On the rude rock the bed that fits their kind. Die and depose their dust upon the wall; 1 PRO-VI"-SIONS, things provided. 11 AC-COUNT', think; consider; regard. 2 LAT-ER-AL, proceeding from the side, as 12 FIR'ED, animated; encouraged. the wings of the maple seed. 3 EX-PAN-SIONS, parts that spread out. 5 PROD-I-GAL-I-TY, needless abundance. 8 VEG'-E-TATE, to sprout; grow like a plant. 13 IN-NU'-MER-OUS, too many to be counted. 14 PRO-LIF'-IC, fertilizing; causing to grow. 15 DE-LOS', an island that was fabled to have arisen unexpectedly out of the sea. 16"ЄOR ́-AL TER ́-RA-CES," islands built by coral insects. 17 BREAK'-ERS, waves broken by rocks or shoals. 18 SUBT'-LE (sut'tl), very small; difficult of detection. 19 FLO ́-RA, the goddess of flowers. 1. I was standing in the broad, crowded street of a large city. It was a cold winter's day. There had been rain; and although the sun had been shining brightly, yet the long icicles hung from the eaves of the houses, and the wheels rumbled loudly as they passed over the ground. There was a clear, bright look, and a cold, bracing feeling in the air, and a keen northwest wind, which quickened every step. 2. Just then a little child came running along a poor, illclad1 child; her clothes were scant2 and threadbare; she had no cloak and no shawl, and her little bare feet looked red and suffering. She could not have been more than eight years old. She carried a bundle in her hand. Poor little shivering child! I pitied her. As she passed me her foot slipped, and she fell with a cry of pain; but she held the bundle tightly in her hand, and, jumping up, although she limped sadly, endeavored to run as before. 3. "Stop! little girl, stop!" said a sweet voice; and a beautiful woman, wrapped in a huge shawl and with furs around her, came out of a jeweler's store close by. "Poor little child," she said, “are you hurt'? Sit down on this step and tell me." How I loved her, and how beautiful she looked! "Oh, I can not," said the little child, "I can not wait-I am in such a hurry. I have been to the shoemaker's, and mother must finish this work to-night, or she will never get any more shoes to bind." 4. "To-night' ?" said the beautiful woman, "to-night' ?” "Yes," said the child, for the stranger's kind manner had made her bold, "yes, for the great ball to-night; and these satin slippers must be spangled; and-" The beautiful woman took the bundle from the child's hand and unrolled it. You do not know why her face flushed, and then turned pale; but I, yes I, looked into the bundle, and on the inside of a slipper I saw a name name written, but I shall not tell it. "And where does your mother live, little girl?" a lady's 5. So the child told her where; and then she told her that her father was dead, and that her little brother was sick, and that her mother bound shoes that they might have bread; but that sometimes they were very cold, and that her mother sometimes cried because she had no money to buy milk for her little brother. And then I saw that the lady's eyes were full of tears; and she rolled up the bundle quickly, and gave it back to the little girl; and, turning away, went back into the store from which she had just come out. As she went away I saw the glitter of a diamond pin. Presently she came back, and, stepping into a handsome carriage, rolled off. The little girl looked after her a moment, and then, with her little bare feet colder than they were before, ran quickly away. 6. I followed the little girl to a narrow damp street, and into a small dark room; I there saw her mother-her sad, faded mother, but with a face so sweet, so patient—hushing and soothing a sick baby. And the baby slept, and the mother laid it on her lap; and the bundle was unrolled, and a dim candle helped her with her work; for though it was not night, yet her room was very dark. Then, after a while, she kissed her little girl, and bade her warm her poor frozen feet over the scanty fire in the grate, and gave her a little piece of bread, for she had no more; and then she heard her say her evening prayer, and folded her tenderly to her bosom, blessed her, and told her that the angels would take care of her. 7. And the little child slept and dreamed-oh! such pleasant dreams-of warm stockings and new shoes; but the mother sewed alone, and as the bright spangles glittered on the satin slippers, came there no repining3 into the heart? When she thought of her child's bare, cold feet, and of the scant morsel of dry bread, that had not satisfied her hunger, came there visions of a bright room and gorgeous clothing, and a table loaded with all that was good, a little portion of which spared to her would give warmth and comfort to her humble dwelling? 8. If such thoughts came, and others, of a pleasant cottage, and of one who had dearly loved her, and whose strong arm had kept want and trouble from her and her babes, but who could never come back-if these thoughts did come repiningly, there also came another; and the widow's hands were clasped, and her head bowed low in deep contrition, as I heard her say, "Father, forgive me, for thou doest all things well, and I will trust to thee." 5 9. Just then the door opened softly, and some one entered. Was it an angel? Her dress was spotless white, and she moved with a noiseless step. She went to the bed where the sleeping child lay, and covered it with soft, warm blankets. Then presently a fire sparkled and blazed there, such as the little grate had never known before. Then a huge loaf was placed upon the table, and fresh milk for the sick babe. 10. Then she passed gently before the mother, and, drawing the unfinished slipper from her hand, placed there a purse of gold, and said, in a voice like music, "Bless thy God, who |