The short outer row soon curls back, as though for rest or ornament, or for watching the progress of the colony above; but the inner row has a very important duty yet to perform in guarding the large family within. At night, or in daytime, if the day be wet, the long scales press like a blanket closely about the flowers, and do not permit them to come out; but when the sun is bright, it shrinks the outer side of these scales, which then curl apart, leaving the yellow flowers ready for bees to visit or boys to admire and study. For several days the flowers of a head blossom in succession, each night to be snugly wrapped by the scales, and the next day to be again left open, if the weather be fine. After each flower in turn has been allowed to see the light, and after all have been crawled over by bee and wasp to distribute the yellow pollen that seeds may be produced, there is nothing else to do but patiently wait for a week or two while receiving food from the mother plant to perfect each little fruit and seed. During all this period of maturing, day and night, rain or shine, the scales hold the cluster closely; the stem bends over to one side, and the rain and dew is kept from entering. After a while, on some bright morning, the dandelion stalk is seen standing erect again, and is probably surrounded by many others in a similar position. The dry air shrinks the outside of the scales, and they turn downward; the circle of feathers at the top of the slender support attached to the seed-like fruit below spreads out, and the community, which now looks like a white ball of down, is ready for a breeze. The feathery top is now ready to act as a parachute, and invites the wind to catch up the whole and float it away. If there is no breeze, the moist air of night closes the outer scales; each of the feathery tips closes, and all are secure till the next bright day. Of a like nature are fruits of thistles, fireweed, prickly lettuce, sow thistles, scabiosa, valerian, cat-tail flag, cotton grass, some anemones, smoke tree, virgin's bower, and some of the grasses. 27. How the lily sows its seeds.--Ripened pods of lilies usually stand straight up on a stiff, elastic stem; beginning at the top, each one slowly splits into three parts, which gradually separate from each other. Why do they not burst open all of a sudden, like pea pods, and shoot the seeds all about and have the job done with? Or why does not the pod burst open at the lower end first, instead of the upper? [Illustration: FIG. 33.--At the left a dry fruit of a lily opening to permit seeds to dry and the wind to enter; to the right, a fruit later in the season. Two views of a flat seed.]