You know Saturn, the oldest of the gods, had a bad habit of swallowing his children. When Jupiter was born, his mother, Rhea, did not wish his father, Saturn, to swallow him; so she gave him to the care of the daughters of the king of Crete. They fed him on milk from the goat Amalthea, and watched over him and protected him so that his father should not find him. The people of Crete danced about him and made such a noise when he cried that his father could not hear him. He must have cried very loud indeed to make all that necessary; but then, he was destined to become a very great god, so no doubt he _did_ make more noise than ordinary babies. Out of gratitude to his kind nurses, and also as a token of esteem to the good Amalthea, Jupiter broke off one of her horns and endowed it with a very wonderful power. It became filled at once with whatever its possessor might wish! [Illustration: JUPITER.] This was a horn of plenty indeed! Now you know both stories, and you may take your choice as to which one you will believe. Whether our tropæolum had either of these in mind, it certainly made a very dainty cornucopia when it constructed its honey-horn and filled it for the bees, the butterflies, and the humming birds. The tropæolums we have in our gardens are not the only kinds; there are, in fact, some forty different tropolæums living in South America and Mexico, and in Peru there is one which has large tuberous roots filled with plant food, which is also good food for man, and is eaten in some parts of South America instead of potatoes! How would you like to dig your potatoes out of the nasturtium bed? It certainly would be a pretty place to work on a summer day, and how fine the fields would look all covered with gay tropæolum blooms instead of plain green potato tops with their dull blue flowers! [Illustration: [Tropæolum]] JEWELWEED STORIES. A DAINTY CAVE. [Illustration: [Touch-me-not]] Touch-me-not has a dainty cave Spotted with red and poised in the air. Touch-me-not is a pretty knave With ruby spots and yellow cave, Swinging there So fresh and fair. [Illustration: [Touch-me-not].bn] TOUCH-ME-NOT. 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.