PLANT AND INSECT ASSOCIATION OF THE MEADOW IN SEPTEMBER A field thistle, Carduus species, with some of its insect I will recall some personal observations bearing on this subject. I once entered an uncultivated meadow to find a strong wind blowing from the southwest, which came in almost steady wilting blasts. It was seed distributing day par excellence. The air was flecked with the fluffy seeds of the field thistles, which were accompanied with tops of grasses. These seeds were flying as far as the eye could see and were being distributed broadcast. Many of the flower heads of the thistles in some clumps of these plants were swelling to overflowing with seeds, and the wind was in the act of carrying untold thousands away to distant places. Again, here in a marshy swale, I also came upon some cat-tails in the act of seed distribution. Stored within the magazines were sufficient seeds to populate the marsh for acres. Simply starting the seeds at one point was sufficient for the wind to release showers of the little parachutes, which sprang into the air and were carried away to distant points. Who can look upon the seed carriers of the milkweed or dandelion without the thought at once arising of the marvellousness of the physical adaptation for aerial travel displayed? Did it take eons of time to perfect these structures? Or on the basis of some remarkable mutations were these structures hurried along in their evolution? It is obvious that these questions cannot be explained in the indoor laboratory alone. The pollen of many trees, such as the elm, poplar, and some grasses, maize, and hazel, in which the stigmas are small and inconspicuous, is carried by the aid of the wind and they are thus pollinated. The sudden changes of temperature, as a control over life processes, are all too apparent on every hand to ignore. The destruction of small migratory birds that are caught in the trend of a cold wave in the spring has been noticed from time to time and is now common knowledge. The destruction of insects that appear early in the spring, along with the injury to flower buds by delayed frosts, are some of the physical effects commonly noticed during certain seasons. Finally, elevation of temperature so as to produce the other extreme of drought is also productive in destruction of many 1 South of Jackson Park, Chicago, August 21, 1903. forms of animal life. From the foregoing remarks one may note that the temperature, degree of humidity, and the wind are some of the physical agencies at work exercising an influence over the life of animals and plants, and in other chapters I have shown the reciprocal relation that some of the insects bear to plants. In nature's laboratory will be found an endless chain of circumstances that show the intricate adaptations wrought during the evolution of organic life. ANIMAL LIFE IN RAINY WEATHER HILE the pouring rain is often destructive to many forms of insect life, on the other hand it is really favorable to the existence of many other animals. For instance, it is the gala time for snails and slugs, as may be found by observation in the woods. On humid days in the beech forest I have noticed that each one of the old stumps has its slow moving inhabitants. In the holes made by the woodboring insects, a good opportunity is presented of becoming acquainted with the large grayish slug, Phylomyus carolienensis. On my approach I found that some of these slugs had drawn themselves up into robust oval bodies and were hiding just within the holes. Others were welcoming the rain and crawl 1 Diary Notes, Lakeside, Michigan, August. ing about on the old reddish wood. These slugs were very sensitive to the finger touch, and, when disturbed, secreted a milky mucus over their bodies which was probably in selfdefence. Not far away other worm-like slugs were taking excursions about; these also thrust out two tentacles on the front of the body, showing at once that they were not real worms, which they quite closely resembled. Furthermore, a little study reveals the presence of a very small rudimentary shell on their backs, identifying them as the slug-like snail, Agriolimax campestris. During wet weather these little snails pass up the trunk and branches many yards from the earth. The land snails are everywhere in evidence, from tiny specks to those with circular shells of half an inch in diameter. The ungainly harvestmen, or daddy-long-legs, are seen travelling about and now and then entering into seeming play. In the wood interior on rainy days I have always found them in great abundance. In the wind and rain the hickory nuts are falling prematurely and here at my feet I gather some only to find, after sectioning with my pocket knife, that they are infested by the nut weevil, Balaninus nasicus. These are so numerous in some years that the crops of sound hickory nuts are appreciably reduced. Here and there on the trunks of the trees, usually only a few feet from the ground, are found the singular empty cases of the cicada that have become a familiar sight. The wet weather has favored the exit of the pupæ from the ground. One before me is just about ready to emerge from the pupa case, while another is in the act of escaping; but I have already treated this subject at some length in another chapter entitled, "The Hunted Cicada." In hollow scars on the beech trunks the tree-toad appears, colored like the surrounding bark. He is especially favored by the wet weather. Now, turning my footsteps towards the open country, I have come upon an unexpected view. A wire fence behind the farmyard supports an assemblage of barn and eave swallows. About two hundred are lined up on the wire, covering a distance of fifty or more feet. Now and again one leaves his perch to brave the rain, flying into the open meadow, skimming along just over the weed tops. It is needless to say that this |