nd lies there, and
also decays, and by and by there is a little coating of soil or a little
lodgment of it in a crevice or cavity, enough for the flying spores of
some moss to take root and find home."

"And then the moss decays and makes soil for the ferns?"

"I suppose so."

Daisy stood looking with a countenance of delighted intelligence at the
great boulder, which was now to her a representative and witness of
natural processes she had had no knowledge of before. The mosses, the
brakes, the lichen, had all gained new beauty and interest in her eyes.
The doctor watched her and then scrambled up to his feet and came to her
side.

"Look here, Daisy," said he, stooping down at the foot of the rock and
shewing her where tufts of a delicate little green plant clustered,
bearing little umbrella-like heads on tiny shafts of handles.

"What is that Dr. Sandford?"

"Something wonderful."

"Is it? It is pretty. What is it, sir?"

[Illustration]

"It is a plant somewhere between the mosses and the lichens in its
character--it is one of the liverworts, and they are some of the first
plants to go in advance of superior vegetation. This is called
_Marchantia_."

"And is it wonderful, Dr. Sandford?"

"If I could shew it to you, you would think so. Look here, Daisy--on the
surface of this leaf do you see little raised spots here and there?"

"Yes, I see them."

"Those are, when they are finished, little baskets."

"Baskets?" exclaimed Daisy delightedly. "I can't see anything like a
basket now."

"No, it is too small for you to see; you must take it on my word, who
have seen it. They are baskets, and such baskets as you never dreamed
of. The shape is elegant, and round the edge, Daisy, they are cut into a
fringe of teeth, and each tooth is cut again into teeth, making a fringe
around _its_ tiny edge."

"I wish I could see it," said Daisy.

"Now if you were my little sister, and lived with me, I could shew you
these things in the evenings."

Daisy responded to this with a very grateful and somewhat wistful smile,
but immediately went on with the business in hand.

"Do these little baskets hold anything, Dr. Sandford"

"Yes. Baskets are always made to hold something."

"What do they hold?"

"They hold what are called _spores_; that is, little bits of things
which, whenever they get a chance, begin to grow and make new plants."

"Seeds?" said Daisy.

"They answer the purpose of seeds."

"How do they ge