own here by the name of lamb's quarter, that grows in great profusion
about our garden, and in rich soil rises to two feet, and is very
luxuriant in its foliage; the leaves are covered with a white rough
powder. The top shoots and tender parts of this vegetable are boiled
with pork, and, in place of a more delicate pot-herb, is very useful.

Then we have the Indian turnip; this is a very handsome arum, the root
of which resembles the capava, I am told, when boiled: the leaves of
this arum are handsome, slightly tinged with purple. The spathe is of a
lively green, striped with purple: the Indians use the root as a
medicine, and also as an esculent; it is often eaten by the settlers as
a vegetable, but I never tasted it myself. Pursh calls this species
_Arum atropurpureum_.

I must not pass over one of our greatest ornaments, the strawberry
blite, strawberry-bearing spinach, or Indian strawberry, as it is
variously named. This singular plant throws out many branches from one
stem, these are garnished with handsome leaves, resembling in appearance
our long-leaved garden spinach; the finest of this plant is of a bright
crimson, pulpy like the strawberry, and containing a number of purple
seeds, partially embedded in the surface, after the same manner as the
strawberry. The fruit grows close to the stalk, completely surrounding
it, and forming a long spike of the richest crimson berries. I have
gathered branches a foot in length, closely covered with the beautiful
looking fruit, and have regretted that it was so insipid in its flavour
as to make it uneatable. On the banks of creeks and in rich ground, it
grows most luxuriantly, one root sending up twenty or thirty branches,
drooping with the weight of their magnificent burden. As the middle and
superior stems ripen and decay, the lateral ones come on, presenting a
constant succession of fruit from July till the frosts nip them off in
September.

The Indians use the juice of this plant as a dye, and are said to eat
the berries: it is often made use of as a substitute for red ink, but it
is liable to fade unless mingled with alum. A friend of mine told me she
had been induced to cross a letter she was sending to a relative in
England with this strawberry ink, but not having taken the precaution to
fix the colour, when the anxiously expected epistle arrived, one-half of
it proved quite unintelligible, the colours having faded nearly to
white; so that instead of affording sati