t class of holdfasts
from either of those which we have examined. The blossom of the cobea
is formed of a curious and elegantly-formed calyx of five angles,
exquisitely veined, and of a tender green--itself a flower, or, at
least, when divested of its one bell-shaped petal, _looking_ like one.
From this calyx slowly unfolds a noble bell, at first of a soft,
creamy green; but the second day of its existence it becomes tinged
and veined with a delicate plum colour, which on the third day is its
prevailing hue. The blossom is then in its full perfection; the
vigorous green filaments supporting the anthers curve outwards; the
long anthers, in the same manner as those of the white lily, open
lengthways, and disclose rich masses of yellow pollen; whilst the
single pistil stands gracefully between its five supporters, crowned
with a globular purple style. On the last day or two of its existence,
the bell is of a full, deep puce colour, and then drops, leaving the
calyx bare, from which in due time is developed a handsome fruit,
something like that of the passion-flower. The flower-stalk is from
four to six inches long, and stands finely out from the wall, many
blossoms being exhibited at the same time in different stages of
development.

But now of the holdfast, which is our special subject. And this needs
to be of a strong kind, for the branches of this plant have been
known, in an English conservatory, to run to the length of 200 feet in
one summer; and no doubt, in its native Mexico, where it has nothing
to impede its growth, its shoots run even more freely. Behold, then,
at distances of from three to four inches, all up the main stem; and
also, on every shoot and branch which that stem throws out, grows a
leaf, composed of three pair of leaflets, beautifully veined, and
tinted with reddish purple, from between the last pair of which
springs a tendril of extreme elegance. Indeed, noble as is this plant
in every part, I think this tendril is the crowning grace of the
whole: it is exceedingly slender, throwing off side-branches, which,
again, repeatedly fork off at acute angles in pairs, and each
extremity of each branch is furnished with a minute and delicate hook,
so small as to be scarcely perceptible, but so strong and
sharp-pointed as to lay hold of every object in its way--which hold it
retains, when once well fixed, in spite of wind or weather. If this
tendril remains long unattached, it becomes elongated to ten or tw