Even now they begin life in an honest kind of way with
roots of their own that go forth as roots should, seeking food where it
is to be found in the soil. But if we pull up one of these little
club-shaped roots we shall see that it has gone to work feebly and
doubtfully; it seems to have a skulking expectation of dinner without
having to dig and delve for it in the rough dirty ground. Nor is this
expectation unfounded. Watch the stem of a sister dodder as it rises
from the earth day by day, and it will be observed to clasp a stalk of
flax very tightly; so tightly that its suckers will absorb the juices of
its unhappy host. When, so very easily, it can regale itself with food
ready to hand why should it take the trouble to drudge for a living?

Like many another pauper demoralized by being fed in idleness, the plant
now abandons honest toil, its roots from lack of exercise wither away,
and for good and all it ceases to claim any independence whatever.
Indeed, so deep is the dodder's degradation that if it cannot find a
stem of flax, or hop, or other plant whereon to climb and thrive, it
will simply shrivel and die rather than resume habits of industry so
long renounced as to be at last forgotten.

Like the lowly dodder the mistletoe is a climber that has discovered
large opportunities of theft in ascending the stem of a supporting
plant. On this continent the mistletoe scales a wide variety of trees
and shrubs, preferring poplars and apple trees, where these are to be
had. Its extremely slender stem, its meagre leaves, its small flowers,
greenish and leathery, are all eloquent as to the loss of strength and
beauty inevitable to a parasite. Rising as this singular plant does out
of the branches of another with a distinct life all its own, it is no
other than a natural graft, and it is very probable that from the hint
it so unmistakably gives the first gardeners were not slow to adopt
grafts artificial--among the resources which have most enriched and
diversified both flowers and fruits. The dodders and mistletoes rob
juices from the stem and branches of their unfortunate hosts; more
numerous still are the unbidden guests that fasten themselves upon the
roots of their prey. The broom-rape, a comparatively recent immigrant
from Europe, lays hold of the roots of thyme in preference to other
place of entertainment; the Yellow Rattle, the Lousewort, and many more
attach themselves to the roots of grasses--frequently with a se