sandstone you everywhere find the Erie shale underneath it. Indeed, on going up the Cuyahoga Valley towards Akron, you can everywhere see the sandstone overlying the shale. On going still farther from the lake, you find overlying this sandstone a much coarser variety, containing numerous hard quartz pebbles, an inch or more in diameter. Everyone who has visited the Glens at Cuyahoga Falls, must have noticed this conglomerate there. It covers the northeastern part of Medina county, and a large part of Geauga county. Little Mountain is an outlier of it. On going still farther back from the lake, you encounter the "coal measures," extending as far north as Mantua in Portage county, and Talmadge in Summit county. The coal measures contain various kinds of rock, of which strata of limestone and slatestone are pretty continuous. The meaning of this state of things just described is, that in geologic phrase the strata of rock in Northeastern Ohio "dip" toward the southeast, and if in any place where the coal appears near the surface an artesian well should be sunk, you will find underneath the coal measures conglomerate like that at Little Mountain and Cuyahoga Falls, and underneath the conglomerate finer sandstone, like that at Berea, and underneath the sandstone Erie shale. Now the productive oil wells are usually found in this conglomerate, underneath the coal measures and above the shale, and immense quantities of gas almost always escape when these oil sands are penetrated. Professor Newberry's theory is, that the gas which is constantly forming in the shales below is slowly condensed wherever an impenetrable rock overlies it, and that in such situations the porous sandstones become saturated with oil. It certainly is remarkable that the oil should be so uniformly connected with this sand formation. In the oil region this sand formation is reached by boring from one to two thousand feet. The flow of oil is not increased by going below this sandstone. The oil men, however, have a very interesting way of increasing the flow of a well after it has reached the oil-sand. They dynamite the well;-a process which consists of lowering a great quantity of dynamite or nitro-glycerine to the depth required to reach the oil-sands, and there exploding it. shatters the rocks at that great depth, and permits what oil there is absorbed in the rock to find its way rapidly to the well. The accuracy with which geologists can calculate the depth to which one must go to find a certain kind of rock is one of the greatest wonders of geology. This WONDERS OF BOTANY. BY PROF. G. FREDERICK WRIGHT. EVERYTHING about trees and plants is really wonderful. the marvel it is because we have not observed closely. I. THE SEED. If we fail to see There is no end to the interest with which we may study the seeds of plants. The power of the seed is marvelous. A grain of mustard seed is no larger than a grain of sand, and might easily be mistaken for one; yet it has concealed within it a power of life sufficient to clothe a continent with verdure. A kernel of wheat when chemically analyzed seems identical with a morsel of dough made from Graham flour; but the form was as important as the substance. Unlike the truth, a grain of wheat when crushed to the earth does not rise again. It is easy to destroy the life of a seed, but impossible to restore it. The seed is composed of two parts, one of which consists of the germ, or "embryo," from which growth begins; the other part is called the albumen and contains the nutriment upon which the germ feeds until its power of drawing sustenance from the earth and air is fully developed. The great bulk of wheat and corn upon which man depends for food was originally prepared to supply temporary nutriment to the germ. For us to appropriate this to our own use might look like robbery upon our part, and as if we were defeating the ends of nature, were it not for the fact that seeds are produced in such enormous numbers. The waste of seeds in nature is impressive and startling. of trees comes into possession of a territory, it comes to stay. occupying the ground will occupy it for a hundred years to come; and yet they continue to produce seeds, and to scatter them thickly over the pre-occupied ground. The larger portion of these are perhaps utilized by various animals; but thousands and tens of thousands sprout and grow for a season, only to die, because there is no room for their development. The wonder in all this is, perhaps, not so great in respect to the seed itself as in the adaptation of the seed to When a forest the wants of the higher forms of life. Considering the history of the majority of seeds, it cannot be said that their chief purpose is to perpetuate their species, and to produce other plants and seeds. With great plausibility we may urge that God's chief design in having plants produce seeds is to provide for the animal creation. What would the squirrels do without nuts and acorns, and various other dry seeds, which they may store away for winter's use? What would the little birds do in winter without the dry stalks of seed which rise above the bleak fields of snow? What could man himself do without wheat and rice, and corn and beans, and oats and barley, and other civilized grains? The various appendages to seeds, equally with the seed itself, are interesting and valuable. One class of appendages aid the seed in traveling, and it is important that seeds should be able to travel. Since the plant itself is usually fixed to the ground, if it is to occupy adjoining spaces, the seed must be provided with means of locomotion. Many seeds, like those of the maple and the ash, are provided with wing-like projections, which, as the seeds fall, strike against the air and make them sail away some distance from the foot of the tree. Other seeds, like those of the dandelion, the thistle, and the fireweed, are attached to downy tufts which bear them up like balloons, and permit the winds to carry them long distances. Other seeds come into the world prepared to attach themselves to the fleece or fur of animals, and thus secure transportation wherever the animal or his clothing goes. All troublesome burrs are of this class, and they fix themselves to various kinds of birds and animals. By this means, also, human commerce becomes an agent for distributing seeds. The fur of northern animals and the fleece of sheep from America and Australia convey a variety of seeds to Europe. Near the woolen factories in Montpelier, France, where foreign wools are received and cleansed, the vegetation of Buenos Ayres, La Plata, and Mexico has been introduced in such abundance and variety, that all the great botanists of France have been accustomed to resort thither, as to a botanical garden, to carry on their studies of foreign plants. Indeed, weeds are among the first things to avail themselves of improved means of travel. Most of the troublesome weeds in America obtained free passage in the ships that brought the early emigrants to our shores. They were attached to the clothing, or were within the bedding, or mingled with the useful seeds brought over by the early settlers; or they were attached to the dogs and cats; or, perhaps, were undigested in the stomachs of the domesticated animals which accompanied the early settlers. Many of the noxious weeds of this country were introduced for their beauty as flowers. Weeds are also the first to patronize new railroads, and are always found to distribute themselves rapidly over new regions when penetrated by these essential instruments of modern civilization. Civilization distributes evil as well as good, and is not in anything an unmixed blessing. The weeds of Europe are stronger then the weeds of New Zealand, and have, in that far-off land, usurped authority over the native weeds, and well nigh driven them out of existence. The attractiveness of seeds to animals for food is likewise an important means of distribution. Birds sometimes eat the fruit enveloping the seed, while the seed itself passes through the stomach undigested, and is ready to germinate. The digestive organs of the horse and the cow likewise suffer many seeds to pass through them uninjured. The squirrel frequently lays up greater store of nuts than he needs, or perhaps forgets where he has stored them, and thus becomes an important distributor. Many seeds are likewise so perfectly protected that they can remain even in salt water for a long period, and thus are carried by rivers and ocean currents to far distant places. Pieces of wood to which seeds are attached may be carried by the Gulf Stream from the West Indies to Northern Europe, and by currents in the Pacific Ocean from Oregon to the Micronesian Islands. The length of time through which seeds preserve their vitality is various. It was once reported that wheat found in some of the tombs of Ancient Egypt had germinated upon being planted. But this story is now discredited, along with several others of a like character. There are, however, well authenticated cases of seeds growing a century or more after they were gathered. But in order to do this they must be carefully protected from the air and from moisture. The rapidity with which seeds germinate after they are planted also varies; as, indeed, is necessary. The seeds of the peach, the almond, and of nut trees very properly need to pass through the rigors of a winter; so that they may begin their growth in the early spring; while others, like the poppy, wheat, and corn will germinate a few days after planting. III. THE FRUIT. Fruit is another important appendage of the seed, and gives the principal value to many trees and plants. In some cases, as we have seen, the seed itself furnishes man with food; but in a still larger number of cases we eat not the seed, but its envelope. The most familiar cases are the apple, plum, peach, grape, cherry, cucumber, squash, strawberry, lemon, orange, etc. In all these cases, if we eat the seed at all, it is because of the difficulty of separating it from its envelope. An interesting thing, in connection with fruit, is that the variety of trees or plants which produce the most valuable fruits cannot always be propagated from the seed, but have to be obtained by grafting, or budding. If you plant the seed of a nice variety of apple, or the stone of a delicious peach, the trees that spring from them will not produce the valuable varieties of fruit from which the seed came. Plant a seed, and it will grow. The mystery of growth is unfathomable. The germ of the seed contains the miniature plant already formed. The tree is but the unfolding of the embryo. From one side of the germ the root penetrates the earth, seeking moisture and darkness; from the other side, the stalk lifts its head above the earth and unfolds its leaflets in the sunlight. If obstacles intervene to prevent either the root or the stalk from attaining its end, it will, as if animated by an instinct, push its way through the obstructions or work around them. The expanding force of a germ is no insignificant item. A friend of ours enclosed a quart of moistened peas in an iron cylinder, and adjusted them to scales so that he could estimate the force exerted by them in growth. As the germs expanded, they exerted a collective pressure sufficient to move a ton's weight; and how much more it would have moved, the scales failed to tell. Plants draw their food from two sources, viz.: from the soil and from the air. The root is the organ for collecting material from the earth, and the manner of its growth is interesting. It does not grow by making additions to the very end, but the end of the root or filament is composed of a hard substance which is pushed along by the expansive forces immediately behind. The amount of material absorbed by the root from the soil and entering into the constitution of the plant, is comparatively small; but, small as it is, it is absolutely essential to the full development of the plant, and especially of the seed. The mineral elements of a plant are all absorbed from the earth by the roots, and can all be separated and obtained in concentrated form by burning the vegetable tissue in the fire, when the entire product furnished by the roots will appear in the ashes. If now, the roots of a grain of wheat or a kernel of corn be allowed to penetrate a jar of water, holding in solution just the elements contained in the ashes of a stalk and its grain that have been burned, the plant, under proper precautions, will flourish and come to maturity as if growing in the soil. The ashes of the plant consist of small quantities of lime, potash, soda, and various other elements, among which one of the most important is |