The latter-day history of water-lilies-the last hundred years or so-is somewhat clearer. It begins early in the last century with a white man's discovery of a strange and wondrous flower in the deep, wide lagoons of the South American jungles. The natives gave the strange plant many names-Yrupe or Irupe, Dachocho, Marura, Morinqua. Yrupe, literally water platter, seemed the most suitable. The rich purplish-green leaves, deeply veined on the underside, floated on the surface of the water in a magnificent expanse, often covering an area 7 to 8 feet wide. The edges of the leaves, upturned to form a 2- to 8-inch watertight rim, made the "platters" quite buoyant.

The flowers, up to 15 inches wide, opened at dusk, remained open all night, and closed again after sunrise. They released a delicious, powerful, and far-reaching fragrance somewhat like that of crushed pineapple.

The flowers changed color, almost perceptibly, as the amazed white man watched. The bud, when it first spread itself, was creamy white, which gradually gave way to a pink blush, then to a definite pink, and on through the shades of deeper pink until, on the second night of its life, the bloom appeared a deep purplish-red hue.

The pod like fruit, as large as a baby's head, as well as the stems and bloom, was protected by strong, sharp spines which the natives believed to be venomous. A few of the hardier bushmen, however, dared to collect the fruit and break it open for the cluster of hard, shiny seeds, soft and mealy within. They called the seeds, which were considered a great delicacy, water corn or water maize.

The plant had many "discoverers." Haenke, who found it in Bolivia in 1801, was probably the first; then Bonpland in Argentina in 1819; Poeppig on the Amazon River in 1832; and D'Orbigny in Bolivia a year later. Robert H. Schomburgk, who discovered it in the Berbice River in British Guiana in 1836, sent specimens back to England, and two years later a description of the plant was given to the world. Dr. Lindley, who drew up the first account, named it Victoria regia in honor of the then reigning queen.

Practically every time Victoria regia was found in a new locality after that, travelers brought seeds back to England, where horticulturists made every attempt to grow them. Only a few were able to make the seeds germinate, and none of the plants survived. It was not until 1849 that Victoria regia was nursed to blooming maturity in England. Seeds were then distributed through England and Europe. They grew, and their descendants are growing today.

In fact, the cultivation of this exotic flower named for the Queen of England soon became a fad. And the fad became a part of contemporary culture. Is there a portfolio of Victorian illustration anywhere in the world that does not include a picture of a child standing or sitting in the middle of a formal water garden, supported by a giant leaf of Victoria regia?

But this was a hobby for the wealthy only. Seeds were expensive, and the tremendous spread of the plant required extensive pond space. Furthermore, a pond had to be heated artificially through much of the growing season because the plant was tropical.

So Victorias were grown and enjoyed by the wealthy. Other flower lovers adopted a less expensive version of the hobby-the culture of hardy and tropical water-lilies. Soon side and back yards were adorned with ponds much like those that water gardeners are building and enjoying today.