Melbourne House Part 93

"Why, it is!" cried Daisy. "I can see now ? it is not rock.

What is it, Dr. Sandford?"

"Lichen."

"What is that, sir?"

"It is one of the lowest forms of vegetable life. It is the first dress the rocks wear, Daisy."

"But what does it live on?"

"Air and water, I suppose."

"I never knew that was a vegetable," said Daisy, musingly. "I thought it was the colour of the rock."

"That goes to prepare soil for the mosses, Daisy."

"Oh, how, Dr. Sandford?"

"In time the surface of the rock is crumbled a little by its action; then its own decay furnishes a very little addition to that. In favourable situations a stray oak leaf or two falls and lies there, and also decays, and by and by there is a little coating of soil or a little lodgment of it in a crevice or cavity, enough for the flying spores of some moss to take root and find home."

"And then the moss decays and makes soil for the ferns?"

"I suppose so."

Daisy stood looking with a countenance of delighted intelligence at the great boulder, which was now to her a representative and witness of natural processes she had had no knowledge of before. The mosses, the brakes, the lichen, had all gained new beauty and interest in her eyes. The doctor watched her, and then scrambled up to his feet and came to her side.

"Look here, Daisy," said he, stooping down at the foot of the rock, and showing her where tufts of a delicate little green plant cl.u.s.tered, bearing little umbrella-like heads on tiny shafts of handles.

"What is that, Dr. Sandford?"

"Something wonderful."

"Is it? It is pretty. What is it, sir?"

"It is a plant somewhere between the mosses and the lichens in its character ? it is one of the liverworts, and they are some of the first plants to go in advance of superior vegetation.

This is called _Marchantia_."

"And is it wonderful, Dr. Sandford?"

"If I could show it to you, you would think so. Look here, Daisy ? on the surface of this leaf do you see little raised spots here and there?"

"Yes, I see them."

"Those are, when they are finished, little baskets."

"Baskets?" exclaimed Daisy, delightedly. "I can't see anything like a basket now."

"No, it is too small for you to see; you must take it on my word, who have seen it. They are baskets, and such baskets as you never dreamed of. The shape is elegant, and round the edge, Daisy, they are cut into a fringe of teeth, and each tooth is cut again into teeth, making a fringe around its tiny edge.

"I wish I could see it," said Daisy.

"Now if you were my little sister, and lived with me, I could show you these things in the evenings."

Daisy responded to this with a very grateful and somewhat wistful smile, but immediately went on with the business in hand.

"Do these little baskets hold anything, Dr. Sandford?"

"Yes. Baskets are always made to hold something."

"What do they hold?"

"They hold what are called _spores;_ that is, little bits of things which, whenever they get a chance, begin to grow and make new plants."

"Seeds?" said Daisy.

"They answer the purpose of seeds."

"How do they get out of the basket? Do the winds blow them out."

"Or the rain washes them out. If they lie long enough in the basket, they will take root there, and then there is a new plant seen growing out of the old one."

"How wonderful it is!" said Daisy.

"There is another wonder about it. It does not matter which way these little spores lie on the ground or in the basket; but the side that happens to be exposed to the light, after a time, prepares itself to expand into the surface of a frond, while the dark side sends down a tiny root."

"And it does not matter which side lies uppermost?"

"No, not in the beginning."

"What is a _frond_, Dr. Sandford?"

"This sort of seed-bearing leaf is called so."

"How pretty it is!" said Daisy. "What are these little things like umbrellas?"

"These carry the real seed vessels of the plant."

"Other seeds. Dr. Sandford, is _everything_ wonderful?"

"What do you think about it?"

"I do not know but a very little," said Daisy; "but I never should have thought this little green moss ? or what did you say it was?"

"Liverwort. Its name is Marchantia."

"This liverwort; I never should have supposed it was anything but pretty, and of course good for something; but now I never heard anything so wonderful."

"More than the sun?" said Dr. Sandford, smiling.