The Christmas Fern

Teacher’s Story

“No shivering frond that shuns the blast sways on its slender chaffy stem;
Full veined and lusty green it stands, of all the wintry woods the gem.”

—W. N. Clute.

The rootstock of the fern is an humble example of “rising on stepping stones of our dead selves,” this being almost literally true of the tree-ferns. The rootstock which is a stem and not a root—has, like other stems, a growing tip from which, each year, it sends up into the world several beautiful green fronds, and numerous rootlets down into the earth. These graceful fronds rejoice the world and our eyes for the summer, and make glad the one who, in winter, loves to wander often in the woods to inquire after the welfare of his many friends during their period of sleeping and waking. These fronds, after giving their message of winter cheer, and after the following summer has made the whole woodland green and the young fronds are growing thriftily from the tip of the rootstock, die down, and in midsummer we can find the old fronds lying sere and brown, with broken stipes, just back of the new fern clump; if we examine the rootstock we can detect behind them, remains of the stems of the fronds of year before last; and still farther behind we may trace all the stems of fronds which gladdened the world three years ago. Thus we learn that this rootstock may have been creeping on an inch or so each season for many years, always busy with the present and giving no heed to its dead past. One of the chief differences between our ferns and the tree-ferns of the tropics, which we often see in greenhouses, is that in the tree-fern the rootstock rises in the air instead of creeping on, or below, the surface of the ground. This upright rootstock of the tree-fern also bears fronds at its tip, and its old fronds gradually die down, leaving it rough below its crown of green plumes.

The Christmas fern has its green stipe, or petiole, and its rachis, or midrib, more or less covered with ragged, brownish scales, which give it an unkempt appearance. Its pinnæ, or leaflets, are individually very pretty; in color they are dark, shining green, lance-shaped, with a pointed lobe or ear at the base projecting upward. The edges of the pinnæ are delicately toothed, each point armed with a little spine, and the veins are fine, straight and free to the margin; the lower pinnæ often have the earlike lobe completely severed.

In studying a fertile fern from above, we notice that about a dozen pairs of the pinnæ near the tip are narrowed and roughened and are more distinctly toothed on the margins. Examining them underneath, we find on each a double row of circular raised dots which are the fruit-dots, or sori; there is a row between the midrib and margin on each side, and also a double row extending up into the point at the base. Early in the season these spots look like pale blisters, later they turn pale brown, each blister having a depression at its center; by the middle of June, masses of tiny globules, not larger than pin points, push out from beneath the margin of these dots. The blisterlike membrane is simply a cover for the growing spores, and is called the indusium; by July it shrivels into an irregular scroll, still clinging to the pinnule by its depressed center; and by this time the profusion of tiny globules covers the entire under side of the pinna like a brown fuzz. If we scrape off some of this fuzz and examine it with a lens, we can see that it consists of numberless little globules, each with a stem to attach it to the leaf; these are the spore-cases, or sporangia, each globule being packed full of spores which, even through the lens, look like yellowish powder. But each particle of this dust has its own structure and contains in its heart the living fern-substance.

Not all the fronds of the fern clump bear these fruit-dots. The ones we select for decoration are usually the sterile fronds, for the fertile ones are not so graceful, and many ignorant people think the brown spore-cases are a fungus. The Christmas fern being evergreen and very firm in texture, is much used in holiday decoration, hence its common name, which is more easily remembered than Polystichum acrostichoides, which is its real name. It loves to grow in well-shaded woodlands, liking better the trees which shed their leaves than the evergreens; it is indeed well-adapted to thrive in damp, cold shade; it is rarely found on slopes which face the south, and sunshine kills it.