Part 1

HOW TO KNOW THE FERNS

How to Know the Ferns

A GUIDE

TO THE NAMES, HAUNTS, AND HABITS OF OUR COMMON FERNS

By Frances Theodora Parsons _Author of "How to Know the Wild Flowers," "According to Season," etc._

Illustrated by Marion Satterlee and Alice Josephine Smith

NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1915

_Copyright, 1899, by Charles Scribner's Sons_

TO

J. R. P.

"_If it were required to know the position of the fruit-dots or the character of the indusium, nothing could be easier than to ascertain it; but if it is required that you be affected by ferns, that they amount to anything, signify anything to you, that they be another sacred scripture and revelation to you, helping to redeem your life, this end is not so easily accomplished._"

--THOREAU

PREFACE

Since the publication, six years ago, of "How to Know the Wild Flowers," I have received such convincing testimony of the eagerness of nature-lovers of all ages and conditions to familiarize themselves with the inhabitants of our woods and fields, and so many assurances of the joy which such a familiarity affords, that I have prepared this companion volume on "How to Know the Ferns." It has been my experience that the world of delight which opens before us when we are admitted into some sort of intimacy with our companions other than human is enlarged with each new society into which we win our way.

It seems strange that the abundance of ferns everywhere has not aroused more curiosity as to their names, haunts, and habits. Add to this abundance the incentive to their study afforded by the fact that owing to the comparatively small number of species we can familiarize ourselves with a large proportion of our native ferns during a single summer, and it is still more surprising that so few efforts have been made to bring them within easy reach of the public.

I wish to acknowledge my indebtedness to the many books on our native ferns which I have consulted, but more especially to Gray's "Manual," to Eaton's "Ferns of North America," to the "Illustrated Flora" of Messrs. Britton and Brown, to Mr. Underwood's "Our Native Ferns," to Mr. Williamson's "Ferns of Kentucky," to Mr. Dodge's "Ferns and Fern Allies of New England," and to that excellent little quarterly, which I recommend heartily to all fern-lovers, the "Fern Bulletin," edited by Mr. Willard Clute, of Binghamton, N. Y.

To the State Botanist, Dr. Charles H. Peck, who has kindly read the proof-sheets of this book, I am indebted for many suggestions; also to Mr. Arthur G. Clement, of the University of the State of New York.

To Miss Marion Satterlee thanks are due not only for many suggestions, but also for the descriptions of the Woodwardias.

The pen-and-ink illustrations are all from original drawings by Miss Satterlee and Miss Alice Josephine Smith. The photographs have been furnished by Miss Murray Ledyard, Miss Madeline Smith, and Mr. Augustus Pruyn.

In almost all cases I have followed the nomenclature of Gray's "Manual" as being the one which would be familiar to the majority of my readers, giving in parentheses that used in the "Illustrated Flora" of Messrs. Britton and Brown.

FRANCES THEODORA PARSONS

ALBANY, March 6, 1899

"_The more thou learnest to know and to enjoy, the more full and complete will be for thee the delight of living._"

CONTENTS

_Page_

_Preface_ v

_Ferns as a Hobby_ _1_

_When and Where to Find Ferns_ _15_

_Explanation of Terms_ _28_

_Fertilization, Development, and Fructification of Ferns_ _32_

_Notable Fern Families_ _36_

_How to Use the Book_ _38_

_Guide_ _40_

_Fern Descriptions:_

_Group I_ _54_

_Group II_ _67_

_Group III_ _87_

_Group IV_ _105_

_Group V_ _120_

_Group VI_ _159_

_Index to Latin Names_ _211_

_Index to English Names_ _213_

_Index to Technical Terms_ _215_

LIST OF PLATES

⁂ _The actual sizes of ferns are not given in the illustrations. For this information see the corresponding description._

PLATE PAGE

I. SENSITIVE FERN, _Onoclea sensibilis_, 57

II. OSTRICH FERN, _Onoclea Struthiopteris_, 59

III. CINNAMON FERN, _Osmunda cinnamomea_, 61

IV. CURLY GRASS, _Schizæa pusilla_, 65

V. ROYAL FERN, _Osmunda regalis_, 69

VI. INTERRUPTED FERN, _Osmunda Claytoniana_, 73

VII. ADDER'S TONGUE, _Ophioglossum vulgatum_, 79

VIII. TERNATE GRAPE FERN, _Botrychium ternatum_, 83

IX. MOONWORT, _Botrychium Lunaria_, 85 LANCE-LEAVED GRAPE FERN, _Botrychium lanceolatum_, 85

X. PURPLE CLIFF BRAKE, _Pellæa atropurpurea_, 91

XI. NARROW-LEAVED SPLEENWORT, _Asplenium angustifolium_, 99

XII. NET-VEINED CHAIN FERN, _Woodwardia angustifolia_, 103

XIII. HAIRY LIP FERN, _Cheilanthes vestita_, 113

XIV. HAY-SCENTED FERN, _Dicksonia pilosiuscula_, 115

XV. LADY FERN, _Asplenium Filix-fœmina_, 121

XVI. SILVERY SPLEENWORT, _Asplenium thelypteroides_, 125

XVII. RUE SPLEENWORT, _Asplenium Ruta-muraria_ 127

XVIII. MOUNTAIN SPLEENWORT, _Asplenium montanum_, 131

XIX. EBONY SPLEENWORT, _Asplenium ebeneum_, 135

XX. GREEN SPLEENWORT, _Asplenium viride_, 139

XXI. SCOTT'S SPLEENWORT, _Asplenium ebenoides_, 141

XXII. PINNATIFID SPLEENWORT, _Asplenium pinnatifidum_, 143

XXIII. BRADLEY'S SPLEENWORT, _Asplenium Bradleyi_, 145

XXIV. VIRGINIA CHAIN FERN, _Woodwardia Virginica_, 157

XXV. NEW YORK FERN, _Aspidium Noveboracense_, 161

XXVI. MARSH FERN, _Aspidium Thelypteris_, 163

XXVII. SPINULOSE WOOD FERN, _Aspidium spinulosum_, _var. intermedium_, 165

XXVIII. BOOTT'S SHIELD FERN, _Aspidium Boottii_, 167

XXIX. CRESTED SHIELD FERN, _Aspidium cristatum_, 169

XXX. CLINTON'S WOOD FERN, _Aspidium cristatum_, _var. Clintonianum_, 171

XXXI. GOLDIE'S FERN, _Aspidium Goldianum_, 173

XXXII. EVERGREEN WOOD FERN, _Aspidium marginale_, 175

XXXIII. FRAGRANT SHIELD FERN, _Aspidium fragrans_, 179

XXXIV. BRAUN'S HOLLY FERN, _Aspidium aculeatum_, _var. Braunii_, 183

XXXV. BROAD BEECH FERN, _Phegopteris hexagonoptera_, 189

XXXVI. OAK FERN, _Phegopteris Dryopteris_, 191

XXXVII. BULBLET BLADDER FERN, _Cystopteris bulbifera_, 195

XXXVIII. FRAGILE BLADDER FERN, _Cystopteris fragilis_, 197

XXXIX. RUSTY WOODSIA, _Woodsia Ilvensis_, 199

XL. BLUNT-LOBED WOODSIA, _Woodsia obtusa_, 201

XLI. NORTHERN WOODSIA, _Woodsia hyperborea_, 205

XLII. SMOOTH WOODSIA, _Woodsia glabella_, 207

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"_The cheerful community of the polypody_" _Frontispiece_ _From a photograph by Miss Madeline Smith._

_Page_

_New York Fern_ xvi

_"The greatest charm the ferns possess is that of their surroundings"_ _12_ _From a photograph by Mr. Augustus Pruyn._

_Fiddleheads_ _18_

_Fragile Bladder Fern_ _19_

_Crested Shield Fern_ _20_

_Purple Cliff Brake_ _22_

_Ternate Grape Fern_ _24_

_Evergreen Wood Fern_ _27_

_Sensitive Fern_ _55_

_Cinnamon Fern_ _60_

_Royal Fern_ _68_

_Interrupted Fern_ _74_

_Climbing Fern_ _75_

_Rattlesnake Fern_ _80_

_Slender Cliff Brake_ _89_

"_The unpromising wall of rock which rose beside us_" _94_ _From a photograph by Miss Ledyard._

_More compound frond of Purple Cliff Brake_ _95_

_Christmas Fern_ _97_

_Narrow-leaved Spleenwort_ _98_

_Brake_ _106_

_Maidenhair_ _110_

_Mountain Spleenwort_ _130_

_Mountain Spleenwort_ _132_

"_In the shaded crevices of a cliff_" _132_ _From a photograph by Miss Madeline Smith._

_Maidenhair Spleenwort_ _137_

_Walking Leaf_ _146_

"_We fairly gloated over the quaint little plants_" _148_ _From a photograph by Miss Ledyard._

_Hart's Tongue_ _151_

_Marsh Fern_ _162_

"_Like the plumes of departing Summer_" _178_ _From a photograph by Miss Madeline Smith._

_Common Polypody_ _184_

_Long Beech Fern_ _187_

_Oak Fern_ _191_

_Bulblet Bladder Fern_ _194_

How to Know the Ferns

FERNS AS A HOBBY

I think it is Charles Lamb who says that every man should have a hobby, if it be nothing better than collecting strings. A man with a hobby turns to account the spare moments. A holiday is a delight instead of a bore to a man with a hobby. Thrown out of his usual occupations on a holiday, the average man is at a loss for employment. Provided his neighbors are in the same fix, he can play cards. But there are hobbies and hobbies. As an occasional relaxation, for example, nothing can be said against card-playing. But as a hobby it is not much better than "collecting strings." It is neither broadening mentally nor invigorating physically, and it closes the door upon other interests which are both. I remember that once, on a long sea-voyage, I envied certain of my fellow-passengers who found amusement in cards when the conditions were such as to make almost any other occupation out of the question. But when finally the ship's course lay along a strange coast, winding among unfamiliar islands, by shores luxuriant with tropical vegetation and sprinkled with strange settlements, all affording delight to the eye and interest to the mind, these players who had come abroad solely for instruction and pleasure could not be enticed from their tables, and I thanked my stars that I had not fallen under the stultifying sway of cards. Much the same gratitude is aroused when I see men and women spending precious summer days indoors over the card-table when they might be breathing the fragrant, life-giving air, and rejoicing in the beauty and interest of the woods and fields.

All things considered, a hobby that takes us out of doors is the best. The different open-air sports may be classed under this head. The chief lack in the artificial sports, such as polo, golf, baseball, etc., as opposed to the natural sports, hunting and fishing, is that while they are invaluable as a means of health and relaxation, they do not lead to other and broader interests, while many a boy-hunter has developed into a naturalist as a result of long days in the woods. Hunting and fishing would seem almost perfect recreations were it not for the life-taking element, which may become brutalizing. I wish that every mother who believes in the value of natural sport for her young boys would set her face sternly against any taking of life that cannot be justified on the ground of man's needs, either in the way of protection or support.

The ideal hobby, it seems to me, is one that keeps us in the open air among inspiring surroundings, with the knowledge of natural objects as the end in view. The study of plants, of animals, of the earth itself, botany, zoölogy, or geology, any one of these will answer the varied requirements of an ideal hobby. Potentially they possess all the elements of sport. Often they require not only perseverance and skill but courage and daring. They are a means of health, a relaxation to the mind from ordinary cares, and an absorbing interest. Any one of them may be used as a doorway to the others.

If parents realized the value to their childrens' minds and bodies of a love for plants and animals, of any such hobby as birds or butterflies or trees or flowers, I am sure they would take more pains to encourage the interest which instinctively a child feels in these things. It must be because such realization is lacking that we see parents apparently either too indolent or too ignorant to share the enthusiasm and to satisfy the curiosity awakened in the child's active mind by natural objects.

Of course it is possible that owing to the strange reticence of many children, parents may be unconscious of the existence of any enthusiasm or curiosity of this sort. As a little child I was so eager to know the names of the wild flowers that I went through my grandfather's library, examining book after book on flowers in the vain hope of acquiring the desired information. Always after more or less tedious reading, for I was too young to master tables of contents and introductions, I would discover that the volume under examination was devoted to garden flowers. But I do not remember that it occurred to me to tell anyone what I wanted or to ask for help. Finally I learned that a book on the subject, written "for young people," was in existence, and I asked my mother to buy it for me. The request was gratified promptly and I plodded through the preliminary matter of "How Plants Grow" to find that I was quite unable to master the key, and that any knowledge of the flowers that could appeal to my child-mind was locked away from me as hopelessly as before. Even though my one expressed wish had been so gladly met, I did not confide to others my perplexity, but surrendered sadly a cherished dream. Owing largely, I believe, to the reaction from this disappointment, it was many years before I attempted again to wrestle with a botanical key, or to learn the names of the flowers.

How much was lost by yielding too easily to discouragement I not only realize now, but I realized it partially during the long period when the plants were nameless. Among the flowers whose faces were familiar though their names were unknown, I felt that I was not making the most of my opportunities. And when I met plants which were both new and nameless, I was a stranger indeed. In the English woods and along the lovely English rivers, by the rushing torrents and in the Alpine meadows of Switzerland, on the mountains of Brazil, I should have felt myself less an alien had I been able then as now to detect the kinship between foreign and North American plants, and to call the strangers by names that were at least partially familiar.

To the man or woman who is somewhat at home in the plant-world, travel is quite a different thing from what it is to one who does not know a mint from a mustard. The shortest journey to a new locality is full of interest to the traveller who is striving to lengthen his list of plant acquaintances. The tedious waits around the railway station are welcomed as opportunities for fresh discoveries. The slow local train receives blessings instead of anathemas because of the superiority of its windows as posts of observation. The long stage ride is too short to satisfy the plant-lover who is keeping count of the different species by the roadside.

While crossing the continent on the Canadian Pacific Railway a few years ago, the days spent in traversing the vast plains east of the Rockies were days of keen enjoyment on account of the new plants seen from my window and gathered breathlessly for identification during the brief stops. But to most of my fellow-passengers they were days of unmitigated boredom. They could not comprehend the reluctance with which I met each nightfall as an interruption to my watch.

When, finally, one cold June morning we climbed the glorious Canadian Rockies and were driven to the hotel at Banff, where we were to rest for twenty-four hours, the enjoyment of the previous week was crowned by seeing the dining-room tables decorated with a flower which I had never succeeded in finding in the woods at home. It was the lovely little orchid, _Calypso borealis_, a shy, wild creature which had been brought to me from the mountains of Vermont. It seemed almost desecration to force this little aristocrat to consort with the pepper-pots and pickles of a hotel dining-room. In my eagerness to see Calypso in her forest-home I could scarcely wait to eat the breakfast for which a few moments before I had been painfully hungry.

Unfortunately the waiters at Banff were proved as ruthless as vandals in other parts of the world. Among the pines that clothed the lower mountain-sides I found many plants of Calypso, but only one or two of the delicate blossoms had been left to gladden the eyes of those who love to see a flower in the wild beauty of its natural surroundings.

That same eventful day had in store for me another delight as the result of my love for plants. For a long time I had wished to know the shooting-star, a flower with whose general appearance from pictures or from descriptions I was familiar. I knew that it grew in this part of the world, but during a careful search of the woods and meadows and of the banks of the rushing streams the only shooting-star I discovered was a faded blossom which someone had picked and flung upon the mountain-path. Late in the afternoon, having given up the hope of any fresh find, I went for a swim in the warm sulphur pool. While paddling about the clear water, revelling in the beauty of the surroundings and the sheer physical joy of the moment, my eyes fell suddenly on a cluster of pink, cyclamen-like blossoms springing from the opposite rocks. I recognized at once the pretty shooting-star.

Two days later, at Glacier, I had another pleasure from the same source in the discovery of great beds of nodding golden lilies, the western species of adder's tongue, growing close to white fields of snow.

"Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance."

The enjoyment of the entire trip to the Pacific coast, of the voyage among the islands and glaciers of Alaska, and of the journey home through the Yellowstone and across our Western prairies, was increased indescribably by the new plants I learned to know.

The pleasure we take in literature, as in travel, is enhanced by a knowledge of nature. Not only are we able better to appreciate writers on nature so original and inspiring as Thoreau, or so charming as John Burroughs, but such nature-loving poets as Wordsworth, Lowell, Bryant, and countless others, mean infinitely more to the man or woman who with a love of poetry combines a knowledge of the plants and birds mentioned in the poems.

Books of travel are usually far more interesting if we have some knowledge of botany and zoölogy. This is also true of biographies which deal with men or women who find either their work or their recreation--and how many men and women who have been powers for good may be counted in one class or the other--in some department of natural science.

One fascinating department of nature-study, that of ferns, has received but little attention in this country. Within the last few years we have been supplied with excellent and inexpensive hand-books to our birds, butterflies, trees, and flowers. But so far as I know, with the exception of Mr. Williamson's little volume on the "Ferns of Kentucky," we have no book with sufficient text and illustrations within the reach of the brains and purse of the average fern-lover. In England one finds books of all sizes and prices on the English ferns, while our beautiful American ferns are almost unknown, owing probably to the lack of attractive and inexpensive fern literature. Eaton's finely illustrated work on the "Ferns of North America" is entirely out of the question on account of its expense; and the "Illustrated Flora" of Britton & Brown is also beyond the reach of the ordinary plant-lover. Miss Price's "Fern Collectors' Hand-book" is helpful, but it is without descriptive text. "Our Native Ferns and their Allies," by Mr. Underwood, is exhaustive and authoritative, but it is extremely technical and the different species are not illustrated. Mr. Dodge's pamphlet on the "Ferns and Fern Allies of New England" is excellent so far as it goes, the descriptions not being so technical as to confuse the beginner. But this also is not illustrated, while Mr. Knobel's pamphlet, "The Ferns and Evergreens of New England," has clear black-and-white illustrations of many species, but it has no text of importance.

In view of the singular grace and charm of the fern tribe, patent to the most careless observer, this lack of fern literature is surprising. It is possible that Thoreau is right in claiming that "we all feel the ferns to be farther from us essentially and sympathetically than the phenogamous plants, the roses and weeds for instance." This may be true in spite of the fact that to some of us the charm of ferns is as great, their beauty more subtle, than that of the flowering plants, and to learn to know them by name, to trace them to their homes, and to observe their habits is attended with an interest as keen, perhaps keener, than that which attends the study of the names, haunts, and habits of the flowers.

That ferns possess a peculiar power of blinding their votaries to the actual position they occupy in the minds of people in general seems to me evidenced by the following quotations, taken respectively from Mr. Underwood's and Mr. Williamson's introductions.

So competent and coldly scientific an authority as Mr. Underwood opens his book with these words:

"In the entire vegetable world there are probably no forms of growth that attract more general notice than the Ferns."