THE flowers with pollen were cut off, those with ovaries wrapped each in a separate gauze-bag. Every morning they went and watched the blossoming. With pollen taken from the cut flowers they powdered the stigmas of four or five pistillate blossoms. And it happened just as their uncle had said. The ovaries whose stigmas had received the pollen became pumpkins, the others dried up without swelling. Now, during these experiments, which were both a serious study and a joyful amusement, Uncle Paul continued his account of the flower. “The pollen reaches the stigma in divers ways. Sometimes the stamens, which are longer, let it fall by its own weight on the shorter pistil. Sometimes the wind, shaking the flower, deposits the dust of the stamens on the stigma, or even carries it long distances for the benefit of other ovaries. “There are flowers whose stamens behave in such a manner as to fulfil their mission. They bend over alternately and apply their anthers to the stigma, there to deposit some pollen; then slowly raise themselves to give place one to another. They might be regarded as a circle of courtiers depositing their offerings at the feet of a great king. These salutations at an end, the rôle of the stamens is finished. The flower fades, but the ovary begins to ripen its seeds. [Illustration: Diœcious plants (male and female) of Vallisneria Spiralis] “The vallisneria is a plant that lives under the water. It is very common in the Southern Canal. Its leaves resemble narrow green ribbons. It is diœcious, that is to say it has flowers with stamens and those with pistils on different plants. The pistillate flowers are borne on long, tightly curled stems. The blossoms with stamens have only very short stems. Under water, where the current would carry away the pollen and prevent its fastening itself on the stigmas, the quickening action of the stamens on the pistil cannot take place. So the vallisneria, fixed by its roots in the mud, is obliged to send its flowers to the surface of the water to let them blossom in the open air. It is easy for the pistillate flowers. They unwind the curl that supports them, and mount to the surface. But what will the staminate flowers do, fastened as they are to the bottom with their short stems?” “I cannot undertake to say,” answered Jules. “Well, by their own strength, without any external aid, these flowers pull away from their stems, break their moorings, and mount to the surface to rejoin the pistillate flowers. Then they open their little white corollas and free their pollen to wind and insects, which deposit it on the stigmas. After that they die and the current carries them away, while the flowers quickened by the pollen curl up again and descend once more beneath the water, there to ripen their ovaries at leisure.” “It is wonderful, Uncle; one would say those little flowers know what they are doing.”