In the cold and dreary country of Lapland there are not so many flowers to be found as in England, but moss is very plentiful, and the Laplanders use it for a great number of purposes.

They line their babies' cradles with it, and stuff it into their boots and gloves to keep the cold out; and when they want to make themselves a bed, they cut a large piece of moss from the ground, and separate it carefully from the mould. The roots are so interwoven with each other, that they do not separate, and the Laplander can roll it up like a carpet, and carry it under his arm. This mossy bed is very soft and light; and if a piece of it be used as a coverlet, nothing can be more warm and comfortable. If after a time it gets too dry and withered, they have only to dip it into water, and it becomes as fresh and elastic as before.

The Laplanders are also very much indebted to another little plant, called the " reindeer moss," but which is in reality a lichen.* It grows in the utmost profusion, covering vast plains, hundreds of miles in extent; and being of a whitish color, it looks like snow upon the

* Cladonia rangiferina.

ground. These plains would appear to us, who live in a brighter land, to be mere dry and barren wastes, but to the Laplanders they are rich and fertile fields; for when the cold of winter has frozen up every herb and blade of grass, and driven man and beasts to the shelter of the vallies and the woods, this moss becomes the sole food of the herds of reindeer, which form the chief wealth of the Laplanders.

Nor is this all. During the rainy season when the moss is very soft and easily separated from the ground, the Laplanders rake it together in heaps, and use it as fodder for their cows. In these cold regions, I must tell you that the cows are no larger than calves, but their milk is almost all cream, and more sweet and delicious than you can imagine. The reason is that they feed so much upon the reindeer

moss.

*

There is another little plant, called the "Iceland moss," which is also a lichen, and is used as food by the inhabitants of Iceland.

These poor people rarely obtain corn bread, and their stock of provisions is so scanty, that they are obliged to have recourse to every kind of vegetable they can procure. The Iceland

*Cetraria Islandica.

moss consists of upright leaves, nearly two inches high, soft and pliant when they are moist; but hard and rigid when dry. They are smooth and shining, of a red color towards the root, and the outer surface is sprinkled with very small black warts.

The plant is collected by the Icelanders, and after being washed and dried in the sun, it is put into a bag and well beaten. Last of all it is worked into a powder by being trampled upon, and then it is ready to be used for making bread.

Small as the mosses are, they are of so much use to man, that they have been called his servants or workmen, and I will tell you in what way they serve him best.

They will often sow themselves on the surface of a bog, or piece of loose wet ground, where it is dangerous to tread; but in course of time, they will hold the soil together, and make it quite firm and safe.

Another use of the mosses is more striking still.

Picture to yourself a barren rock, on which nothing has ever grown, and to look at it, you would not suppose that either trees or flowers could ever flourish upon it. But bye and bye

some seeds of moss are wafted thither by the
winds. They do not require any soil to grow
in, for they draw their nourishment from the air;
so they strike root, and soon cover the rock
with verdure. When summer comes, they wither
and die, but they leave behind a thin layer of
soil, ready for more seeds to sow themselves
in. Ages pass away, and every year
the mosses
come, and make the soil a little deeper.
other plants begin to grow, flowers spring up
and blossom, and the rock does not look desolate
any longer. Men begin to sow corn upon it;
there are meadows for cattle to feed in; woods
and forests clothe it with beauty; and thus by
the labours of a little moss, mankind is benefit-
ted, and barren places made rich and fruitful.

"At first a bleak and dangerous waste;
Until the wind bear on its wandering wings
The fertilizing seeds; the salt sea tide
Leaves shells and weeds behind, to vegetate.
The birds will come o'er ocean, and delight
To find a tranquil home remote from men.

Flowers will spring up, and trees, and last some ship
Will penetrate the waste of waters round,

And marvel at the lovely solitude.”

Then

Chapter the Ninth.

THE FERNS.

WHEN the little mosses have produced a soil upon the barren rock, next come the ferns, and find sustenance where other plants would perish for want of food. On this account they have been called colonists, or new settlers; and no name can be found more suitable for them.

Now, because the ferns are intended to fill up vacant places, and to grow wherever vegetation is needed, nature has provided them with seeds, so exceedingly small and light, that they can be blown about like dust by the winds. In this manner they cross both land and sea, and find their way to barren heaths, and new-made islands, or to any spot where they are wanted. No matter how poor the soil, nor how little of it, they strike root and spread themselves until they have covered it over with their pretty graceful fronds. They do so with the greatest rapidity, for each fern has several leaves or