. Surrounding its pretty violet flowers, of funnel
shape, are gummy leaves which close upon their all too trusting guests,
but with less expertness than the sun-dew's. The butterwort is but a
'prentice hand in the art of murder, and its intended victims often
manage to get away from it. Built on a very different model is the
bladderwort, busy in stagnant ponds near the sea coast from Nova Scotia
to Texas. Its little white spongy bladders, about a tenth of an inch
across, encircle the flowering stem by scores. From each bladder a bunch
of twelve or fifteen hairy prongs protrude, giving the structure no
slight resemblance to an insect form. These prongs hide a valve which,
as many an unhappy little swimmer can attest, opens inward easily
enough, but opens outward never. As in the case of its cousinry a-land,
the bladderwort at its leisure dines upon its prey.

[Illustration: Venus' Fly Trap--Open with a Welcome]

In marshy places near the mouth of the Cape Fear River, in the vicinity
of Wilmington, North Carolina, grows the Venus' fly-trap, most wonderful
of all the death-dealers of vegetation. Like much else in nature's
handiwork this plant might well have given inventors a hint worth
taking. The hairy fringes of its leaves are as responsive to a touch
from moth or fly as the sensitive plant itself. And he must be either a
very small or a particularly sturdy little captive that can escape
through the sharp opposed teeth of its formidable snare. It is one of
the unexplained puzzles of plant life that the Venus' fly-trap, so
marvellous in its ingenuity, should not only be confined to a single
district, but should seem to be losing its hold of even that small
kingdom. Of still another type is the pitcher plant, or side-saddle
flower, which flaunts its deep purple petals in June in many a peat-bog
from Canada southward to Louisiana and Florida. Its leaves develop
themselves into lidded cups, half-filled with sweetish juice, which
first lures a fly or ant, then makes him tipsy, and then despatches him.
The broth resulting is both meat and drink to the plant, serving as a
store and reservoir against times of drought and scarcity.

[Illustration: Shut for Slaughter]

Now the question is, How came about this strange and somewhat horrid
means of livelihood? How did plants of so diverse families turn the
tables on the insect world, and learn to eat instead of being themselves
devoured? A beginner in the builder's art finds it m