People often speak of flowers going to sleep at night, and it is perfectly true that many of them do close up their petals when it is dark. Some, indeed, sleep very early—our British wild plant, the goat's beard, is also called 'Jack go to bed at noon,' because the tops close about mid-day. We have other plants, such as the daisy and the dandelion, which shut their flowers early in the evening. But numerous are the blossoms that are open all night, both wild and garden kinds, affording food to night-flying insects. Then, again, we have flowers which are usually closed by daylight, but open after sunset, and which we should call 'flowers of the night.' Most of these are garden species, though there are a few wild ones. Often we are drawn to them by a fragrance which is wafted upon the evening air.

Perhaps the best known of all, a flower which seems to be at home even in a city garden, is the evening primrose, an American plant, which does not belong to the family of the true primroses. But the flowers have a primrose tint, and they are slightly fragrant, opening usually about six or seven in the evening, though an occasional bud may expand during the day. The flower has little hooks upon what is called the calyx, and when the petals open they burst the hooks with a snapping noise. One of the garden varieties has snow-white flowers. Another name for the plant is 'evening star.'

The most splendid of all the flowers of darkness is the cereus, the blossoms of which begin to open at seven or eight o'clock in the evening, and are fully out when midnight comes. Before daylight arrives the flowers have generally decayed, so rapid is their progress. So huge are these that they quite surpass the largest blooms found on the sun-flower, being nearly three feet in circumference. The outer portion is dark brown; the inner shades range from yellow to a pure white. When a dozen or so happen to expand at the same time the effect is startling. They also give out a fine scent.

One of these plants of the night caused such wonder when it arrived in England, that folks called it the 'marvel of Peru.' It is not at all uncommon now amongst the choice garden plants of other lands. The flowers are of several colours and open when the sun has set; the most conspicuous kind has long, dull, white flowers, which have a scent like the orange blossom or the heliotrope. One kind, however, opens earlier in the afternoon, and so that is known as the 'four-o'clock flower.' They are plants fond of warmth, but they do well out of doors during a hot summer.

One of the jessamines is named the night-flower, because it opens towards evening; and that grand species of lily called the Victoria Regina comes amongst the flowers that prefer night to-day.

We have in Britain a family of wild plants named the 'catch-flies.' They do not catch flies or other insects by their flowers, as some plants can, but they take them by the stems, which are sticky, and insects coming against these are entangled. The Latin name of Silena arose from an old legend that it belonged first to a young man whom the goddess Minerva employed to catch flies for her owls. She found him one day idling about, and in her anger turned him into a plant which should be always catching flies. Yorkshire has a night-flowering plant of this kind, with pale flowers and a forked stem. Then there is the white or evening campion of our hedgerows, which opens generally in the twilight, sending forth a perfume. Another, rather rarer, is the 'dame's rocket,' also a night flower. Yet another well-known evening flower in gardens is the tobacco plant, which has a white flower and a very strong, sweet scent.