A much more common form, found growing in fields and woodlands, is the closed Gentian (Gentiana Andrewsii). The fanciful name, Cloistered Heart, has been given to the plant because of the story that once a fairy queen sought to elude pursuit by secreting herself in the flower of a fringed Gentian. In order that she might be more effectually shielded, the plant closed the lobes of its corolla and in gratitude the queen decorated the interior of the flower with brilliant stripes. It is in order to preserve this fairy painting that the flowers have remained closed ever since. The closed Gentian has leaves with rough edges and a narrow base. The flowers are blue or occasionally white, closed at the mouth, forming an inflated, club-shaped corolla, with stripes on the inside. They are arranged in clusters on the ends of the peduncles or flower stems and are from an inch to an inch and a half in length. Both the fringed and the blue Gentian bloom during the autumn months and are among the most attractive forms that mark the close of the floral season. The medicinal properties of the Gentian are obtained from the root, which, after being powdered, yields its remedial qualities to water and alcohol. As a tonic, it has been used from remote times and it is said that the Swiss macerate the plants in cold water, the sugar they contain causing fermentation which results in a spirituous liquor, bitter and unpleasant, but much used by them. The root is found as an ingredient in many of the ancient receipts transmitted from the Greeks and Romans, and is still employed in a great variety of complaints. Charles S. Raddin. TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN. Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven's own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night. Thou comest not when violets lean O'er wandering brooks and springs unseen, Or columbines in purple dressed, Nod o'er the ground-bird's hidden nest. Thou waitest late, and com'st alone, When woods are bare and birds are flown, And frosts and shortening days portend The aged year is near his end. Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye Look through its fringes to the sky, Blue--blue--as if that sky let fall A flower from its cerulean wall. I would that thus when I shall see The hour of death draw near to me, Hope, blossoming within my heart, May look to heaven as I depart. William Cullen Bryant. THE BABY LIONS. Girard, a great lion-hunter, once took home with him two baby lions which were a month old. The lioness was about as large as a cat and the lion a third larger.