157

CONVERSATION VIII.

WHEN the children had finished dinner, their mamma took them out for a walk, as she had promised them.

Sarah was in a very good humour, Caroline was kind and obliging, and little Catherine was, as usual, cheerful and contented: they were all very happy together, and Mrs. M pleased to see them agreeing so well.

was

When they had walked about a mile they came to a very pretty meadow, with several clumps of trees in the middle of it, and at one end was a mossy bank, covered with flowers and sheltered by a high hedge. The children all begged to be allowed to stay and play awhile in this field. Mrs. M▬▬ readily consented, for the afternoon was warm, and she felt tired; she therefore told them, that she would sit down and rest herself upon the bank while they amused themselves with running about, or gather

ing flowers; then taking a book out of her pocket, she seated herself at the foot of an old oak-tree, that stretched far over her head its bare and knotted branches, which had braved the fury of many a winter's storm, and glowed beneath many a summer's sun, before her existence had commenced, and would in all probability continue to flourish long, long after her cold body should be laid in the silent grave. These thoughts filled her mind, as she gazed on its gigantic trunk and wide-spreading branches, which were yet brown and bare; and here and there a few dry and withered leaves still hung upon them, although the trees and hedges around were budding or breaking forth into leaf. It reminded her of old age surrounded by youth, and she sighed as she thought that though the returning spring would soon cover those branches with renewed verdure, old age would know no second spring. But she thought of the bright morning of the resurrection, when the spirits of the just, redeemed by the blood of Christ, clothed in their risen and beautified bodies, shall rise to meet their Lord and Saviour,

and to be for ever with him when this world, with all its fleeting joys and sorrows, shall have passed away. She thought of that glorious eternal day, and her sigh was exchanged for a smile of rapture.

She continued to muse on this subject; and so entirely was she engrossed by it, that she did not perceive Caroline, who had been standing by her for some minutes. At length, finding that her mamma took no notice of her, and seeing that she appeared to be engaged in thought, Caroline was quietly going away; but the sound of her retreating footsteps roused her mamma's attention, and calling her back, she asked her what she wanted.

"I was going, mamma," said she, to ask you to show me the pollen which the dear little busy bees make their bee-bread of, but I won't disturb you now."

<< It will not disturb me, my love," answered her mamma, ❝ and I am glad you have remembered it. And now," continued she, as she selected a wood anemony from the flowers which Caroline held in her hand, "can you tell me which are the stamens in this flower?"

66

Yes, mamma, I think I can," said Caroline,

for you showed me them the other day. I know these white leaves, with a little pink upon

them, are the petals, and the green leaves underneath them are the calyx; so I think these pretty little yellow things which stand round inside the petals must be the stamens."

"Yes, Caroline, you are right; and do you see these little knobs on the tops of the stamens? they are called the tips or anthers, and they contain the pollen. Touch these anthers, Caroline; now look at your finger-you see there is yellow dust upon it; that dust is the pollen, which the bees gather so diligently, to make their bee-bread of."

66

And is there this dust in all flowers, mam

ma?"

"Yes, my love, in all, until it has fallen off, or been gathered by the bees."

But, mamma, here seems to be a flower without any; I touch the anther, but see no dust comes off."

"That is because the flower is only just opened, and the anthers are not burst. Until a

flower blows, the anthers are covered with a very thin skin which protects the pollen; but when the flower is fully blown, that skin splits, which is called the bursting of the anther, and the pollen is disclosed. When the bees are collecting pollen, and find a flower of which the anthers are not burst, they open them with their mandibles, (as the jaws of insects are called,) take out the pollen with their feet, and pack it in the baskets on their legs, as I described to you before."

"O what clever little creatures they are!" exclaimed Caroline, "I must just run and tell Sarah about it, and I will ask her to come to you, and then perhaps, mamma, you could finish telling us about the bees. It would be so pleasant to hear it sitting here, and seeing some little bees gathering honey out of the flowers round us;"-and away she ran without waiting for her mother's reply.

She soon reached Sarah, and showing her the flower, related what her mamma had told her about it; but Sarah looked carelessly at it, seeming to take but little interest in the subject, and turned away without making any reply to Caro