t out of the basket? do the winds blow them out?"

"Or the rain washes them out. If they lie long enough in the basket,
they will take root there, and then there is a new plant seen growing
out of the old one."

"How wonderful it is!" said Daisy.

"There is another wonder about it. It does not matter which way these
little spores lie on the ground or in the basket; but the side that
happens to be exposed to the light, after a time, prepares itself to
expand into the surface of a frond, while the dark side sends down a
tiny root."

"And it does not matter which side lies uppermost?"

"No, not in the beginning."

"What is a _frond_, Dr. Sandford?"

"This sort of seed-bearing leaf is called so."

"How pretty it is!" said Daisy. "What are these little things like
umbrellas?"

"These carry the real seed vessels of the plant."

"Other seeds. Dr. Sandford, is _everything_ wonderful?"

"What do you think about it?"

"I do not know but a very little," said Daisy; "but I never should have
thought this little green moss--or what did you say it was?"

"Liverwort. Its name is Marchantia."

"This liverwort; I never should have supposed it was anything but
pretty, and of course good for something; but now I never heard anything
so wonderful."

"More than the sun?" said Dr. Sandford smiling.

"It is more surprising, I think," said Daisy.

"Pray, what makes you conclude so securely that this little Marchantia
is _good for something_?"

Daisy gave him a quick look of wisdom and suspicion mingled. The doctor
was getting a very good amusement himself, and quite entered into the
matter. He waited for Daisy's answer. It came diplomatically.

"_Isn't_ everything good for something, sir?"

"'Pon my word, I don't know," said the doctor. "My enquiry was for the
grounds of your opinion, Daisy."

"It was not an opinion. I do not think I am old enough to have an
opinion."

"What was it, Daisy?"

The doctor was still crouching down by the side of the rock examining
carelessly whatever he found there. Daisy looked at him and waited, and
felt at last that good manners required her to speak.

"You said, sir, that baskets were made to hold something."

"So your remark was an inference from mine?"

"No, sir."

"Go on, Daisy."

"I only said it, sir, because I knew it was true."

There was an odd contrast between the extreme modesty of Daisy's manner
and the positiveness of her words.

"It is said to be a great phil