Metamorphosis Of A Plant

A curious incident of tlie power of plants to adapt themselves to circumstances eanie under my notice recently iu the shape of a pontedria crassipes, Last fall, says a writer in Meehan's Monthly, I obtained a slip of poutedria, which I placed in a bowl in my sittingroom window. By spring it was a thrifty plant, with beautiful waxen leaves. When it was time to set my plant out of doors I looked about for something in which to place my lily. For want of something better I put it in an old dinner boiler of g-enerous proportions. By midsummer it had outgrown the boiler. Again I looked about, and this time I found a crock, quite deep, but not very wide. I divided my plant, putting half in the croek and the other half in the boiler. ïhis latter I kept thinned out by giving slips to friends; the other plant was left to grow at its own sweet will, and, being a thrifty plant, very much bent on growing, and iinding it could not spread according to its natural mode, it changed its tactics and took to growing upward. The air bulbs developed into long sterns, and at the end of each grew a very large leaf twice the size of an ordinary leaf. And here I would like to say that, as a house plant, there is nothing more attractive than a healthy pontedria, with its glassy, waxen leaves, and, moreover, it requires so little attention, merely keeping it replenished with water.