ting vegetable that one of his boyish Madagascan friends had
given him to eat, the edible root of the lace-leaf plant, the missionary
had determined to make a careful search for the plant so prized by
naturalists. And now at last he had found it, bobbing backward and
forward in a fantastic dance just above the eddying waters of the
beautiful forest river. As soon as they recognized it, both Mr. Steedman
and his son were on the ground in an instant, and bending eagerly above
the clear stream. The water was so pure and limpid that every pebble
could be counted, and in the cool, bright current they saw, to their
delight, a perfect labyrinth of lace-work. Dozens of lace-leaves, green,
gold, olive, and brown, were floating just beneath the surface of the
water.

"Oh, Papa! did you ever see anything so lovely?" said Harry, excitedly.

Mr. Steedman could take but a one-sided view of those wonderful leaves,
as one glass from his spectacles had been lost during their rough
journey; but the remaining glass fairly sparkled with satisfaction.

"Ah, my son, this plant is both lovely and rare. See, the young leaves
are light green and yellow; the older leaves are darker,--shades of
green and olive. A few are even black, and all growing from the same
root. How perfect is every leaf, in spite of its delicate texture! Some
of those larger leaves must be ten or twelve inches long. The strong
midrib in each serves as a support for the fragile threads forming the
meshes on each side."

Harry now plunged his hand into the lace-like web, half expecting it to
dissolve in his grasp. But no! The wiry little yellow leaf which he
raised from the water, was perfect in form, and a gleam of sunlight,
falling upon the shining meshes, transformed them into threads of
glistening gold.

He now discovered, as he examined them carefully, that the under
surfaces of the leaves, were glistening with little pearly bubbles of
air.

[Illustration: RAHEH, THE GUIDE.]

"Oh, Papa," he cried, joyously holding the glistening meshes aloft, "the
lace-leaves are jeweled!"

"Yes, Harry," said his father, "those diamond drops are made by the
breathing of the plant."

Mr. Steedman attempted to detach a root of one of the plants from its
bed of mud, but the little tendrils branching from it on every side held
the root firmly in its place. At last he succeeded in extricating the
little white threads, one by one, and removed the entire plant to the
bank. Its root