daisies, pink clover, and waving timothy bear them company here; not the "daisies pied," violets, and lady-smocks of Shakespeare's England. How incomparably beautiful are our own meadows in June! But the glitter of the buttercup, which is as nothing to the glitter of a gold dollar in the eyes of a practical farmer, fills him with wrath when this immigrant takes possession of his pastures. Cattle will not eat the acrid, caustic plant - a sufficient reason for most members of the Ranunculaceae to stoop to the low trick of secreting poisonous or bitter juices. Self-preservation leads a cousin, the garden monk's hood, even to murderous practices. Since children will put everything within reach into their mouths, they should be warned against biting the buttercup's stem and leaves, that are capable of raising blisters. "Beggars use the juice to produce sores upon their skin," says Mrs. Creevy. A designer might employ these exquisitely formed leaves far more profitably. This and the bulbous buttercup, having so much else in common, have also the same visitors. "It is a remarkable fact," says Sir John Lubbock, "as Aristotle long ago mentioned, that in most cases bees confine themselves in each journey to a single species of plant; though in the case of some very nearly allied forms this is not so; for instance, it is stated on good authority (Muller) that Ranunculus acris, R. repens, and R. bulbosus are not distinguished by the bees, or at least are visited indifferently by them, as is also the case with two of the species of clover." From what we already know of the brilliant Syrphidae flies' fondness for equally brilliant colors, it is not surprising to find great numbers of them about the buttercups, with bees, wasps, and beetles - upwards of sixty species. Modern scientists believe that the habit of feeding on flowers has called out the color-sense of insects and the taste for bright colors, and that sexual selection has been guided by this taste. The most unscientific among us soon finds evidence on every hand that flowers and insects have developed together through mutual dependence. By having its nourishment thriftily stored up underground all winter, the BULBOUS BUTTERCUP (R. bulbosus) is able to steal a march on its fibrous-rooted sister that must accumulate hers all spring; consequently it is first to flower, coming in early May, and lasting through June. It is a low and generally more hairy plant, but closely resembling the tall buttercup in most respects, and, like it, a naturalized European immigrant now thoroughly at home in fields and roadsides in most sections of the United States and Canada. Much less common is the CREEPING BUTTERCUP (R. repens), which spreads by runners until it forms large patches in fields and roadsides, chiefly in the Eastern States. Its leaves, which are sometimes blotched, are divided into three parts, the terminal one, often all three, stalked. May-July.