Page 45 - 1916 February - To Dragma

1 2 4 TO DRAGMA OF ALPHA OMICRON PI

" I ' m so glad i t is lovely and warm today," began the Youngest
Teacher to the most flattering audience I have ever witnessed, "be-
cause I can illustrate my story r i g h t out here under the cottonwoods
where it is happening this minute. Look closely, and every time the
w i n d blows you w i l l see tiny grains of pollen flying through the air
among the trees. You know f r o m our cottonwood story yesterday
what the pollen is, and where i t comes f r o m . N o w I am going to tell
you the most beautiful part of the story."

The children were listening intently. One little girl was smooth-
ing the catkins in her hand.

" I want you to look carefully at the catkins," went on the Youngest
Teacher. "See how tired the red ones l o o k — a l l w o r n out and quite
withered away. I picked them up f r o m the sidewalks this morning,
but the green ones—why, I had to find a boy who could climb a
cottonwood to pick those f o r me. Y o u see the red ones have worked
hard, and now that their work is done, they are f a l l i n g f r o m the trees.
A n d you know what they have been doing a l l these weeks?"

" M a k i n g pollen i n the little pollen sacs," one little g i r l whispered.
I t was the real reverence with which these children listened that
amazed me.

"Yes, making pollen ever since they burst f r o m those fat, shiny
buds which we watched last A p r i l . A n d now f o r two days the pollen
has been ready to go away f r o m the father trees over to the mother
trees, and it is that which is blowing through the air now—that fine
yellow dust. There is some on your sweater, V i r g i n i a , " she added,
designating some tiny grains which had b l o w n against Virginia's
red sweater.

"But on the mother trees the catkins are d i f f e r e n t , " she continued.
" T h e y are like the green ones you are h o l d i n g i n your hands. I n -
stead of making pollen they take care of the l i t t l e green seed-sacs
like those which you see there, f o r away down i n the heart of those
l i t t l e sacs live some tiny, t i n y seeds, which by and by w i l l grow
larger, and at last burst the sacs, and fly away on soft, cottony
wings.

" A n d now comes the most w o n d e r f u l part of a l l . Those tiny
seeds i n the sacs of the mother catkins w o u l d never grow and be able
to become little cottonwood shoots and afterwards big cottonwood
trees, i f it were not f o r the pollen-bearing catkins on the father trees.
Those tiny grains of pollen must find their way to the mother cat-
kins, and that is what the wind is helping them do this minute.
There are millions and millions of them, and some of them w i l l
never reach the mother catkins, like those which have fallen on
Virginia's sweater, but many w i l l reach the mother trees, and some