and the purple-fringed orchis (H. fimbriata, R. Br.), and three of the lady's slippers, the stemless (Cypripedium acaule, Ait.), the large yellow (C. pubescens, Willd.) and the small yellow (C. parviflorum, Salisb.). These form a very interesting group, both in themselves and in their relation to a great family. They are much sought and are highly prized. They hold the same rank among our wild flowers that the scarlet tanager, the rose-breasted grosbeak, the bobolink, the Baltimore oriole, the redstart and the goldfinch hold among the birds. The development of ferns is an interesting sight connected with our native flora. Each genus has its own manner. This shepherd's crook will develop by and by into a tall osmunda, of which we have three species. The name of this genus has given rise to some speculation as to its derivation. Some suppose it to be from Osmunder, the Celtic name of the god Thor of the Scandinavian mythology. Moore in his "Popular History of British Ferns" gives another, to which I refer the reader curious in such matters. In Hooker and Baker's "Synopsis Filicum" six species of this genus are described, three of which, the cinnamon fern (Osmunda cinnamomea, L.), the interrupted fern (O. Claytoniana, L.) and the flowering fern (O. regalis, L.), are cosmopolitan. The first is found from Newfoundland and Canada to Mexico, in the West Indies, Guatemala, the United States of Colombia, and on the Organ Mountains of Brazil, also in Japan, Mantchooria and the Amur country; the second is found in Canada, Newfoundland, throughout the United States, and on the Himalayas to the height of ten thousand feet; the third is accredited to Sweden, Russia, Siberia, Japan, the Azores Islands, the Barbary States, the Himalayas, Bombay, Cochin China, Hong Kong, Zambesi-land, Natal, Cape Colony, and from Canada to Rio Janeiro; and yet the three species may often all be found here in a space less than ten feet square. The other three species of osmunda. are all found on the eastern side of Asia. We have representatives of at least a dozen other genera, all of which are crowding forward in June. One of our plants, akin to the ferns, and formerly counted. with them, is the moonwort (Botrychium Virginianum, Swartz). This has a very remarkable geographical range. In Europe it is found only in Norway (fide Macmillan); but it abounds in the United States, on the mountains in Mexico, on the Raklang Pass of the Himalayas, and is abundant on the mountains of Australia and New Zealand, where it is boiled and eaten by the natives. The distribution of this plant over such widely-separated areas is a very puzzling problem. There are some humbler plants which are no less interesting though they may be considered as weeds. One of the smallest of these grows on the edge of gravel walks and opens its pink-red corolla during the middle of the day when the sun is shining. In the morning. and in the late afternoon we might pass it unnoticed, but at midday when its many blossoms are open, small though they are, we should be attracted to it. I learned to know it under the name Spergularia rubra, Presl. but it is known also as Buda rubra, Dumort., and Tissa rubra, Britton. Whichever name may be finally accepted, the little plant will be not a jot the less interesting, nor bloom a whit the less profusely. The ox-eye daisy (Chrysanthemum Leucanthemum, L.) and the cone-flower (Rudbeckia hirta, L.) are two of the June flowers conspicuous by their great numbers. Though they may be regarded as pestiferous weeds when encroaching upon cultivated lands, there is plenty of room for them in the waste lands everywhere; and the golden-yellow disks with the crown of silver-white rays of the former, and the dark brown disks with the crown of golden-yellow rays of the latter will not fail of admirers. Both of them are immigrants. The ox-eye daisy has followed the course of empire and comes to us from the old world; the cone-flower has reversed this course and comes to us from the prairies of the Mississippi Valley. Both of them have come to stay. They thrive in this land, and, if they could speak, would, no doubt, say "Our lot is cast in pleasant places: here will we abide." No one who has seen a meadow full of the scarlet painted-cup (Castilleia coccinea, Spreng.) can forget the charm which such a scene casts over his sense of the beautiful. I know only one such meadow. It is a Mecca toward which I turn my face annually, and not alone. My friends may share the pleasure with me without diminishing my own. These scarlet tufts, glowing in the green of the grass, are almost like flashes of fire, and suggest the scarlet tanager and the Baltimore oriole as fit occupants of the orchard and woodlands The name of Castillejo, a Spanish botanist, cannot be forgotten as long as it is associated with this favorite flower. Like Linnæus, he has gained a sort of immortality. near. Close by the painted-cup I find the pink azalea (Rhododendron nudiflorum, Torr.), a member of a great family whose homes are chiefly in temperate North America and among the mountains of India. When seen in the wildwood, with the surroundings in which Nature has placed them, our native species seem in no way inferior to the most highly prized exotics; when transplanted to the garden they sometimes lose that attractiveness by comparisons for which they were. evidently not intended. Fortunate are we if we can |