Almost thou persuadest me to have been “a hairy quadruped, of arboreal habits, furnished with a tail and pointed ears,” etc. But I have read only the first part of the book and the closing chapters; have left all the Sexual Selection till I can read it leisurely next summer, and have lent it to a judicious friend, who has just returned it. I have been besought to write notices of the book, but I decline. You don’t know how distracted I am in these days,--doing the work of professor, gardener, builder, financier, and what not, all at once. But I must not let this mail pass without sending you the little I could get as to Laura Bridgman. Through Dr. Jarvis, a medical man, etc., I got the queries put to the woman who has now the personal charge of Laura, and he brought me the inclosed, which I think I should not much rely on. When Dr. Howe is on hand, some day, I will see if I can get anything authentic and particular,--not, I fear, in time for you. TO CHARLES WRIGHT. CAMBRIDGE, June 28, 1871. ... Well, I say the same as then, only I feel sad about the chance of the “Flora of North America.” What is my bête noire, as I said before, is the care of the Garden; and till I can get rid of that, by some complete reorganization, which shall result in the Garden’s being much better seen to than it has been,--better taken care of and better named up and superintended,--I shall not be comfortable nor of much use in writing “Flora of North America.” I am going to try if I cannot find or make some sort of superintendent, and pay him out of what I pay for rent of house, and have succeeded in getting credited to Botanic Garden fund. This will leave me to pay for work in the herbarium (which is the work you prefer) out of the only $800 a year yielded by herbarium fund, which has first of all to pay for books, paper, fuel, and freights,--in short, most of it, and some years all,--must come out of my own pocket, until I can find somebody who will endow a curatorship. Or else I must put this work in the herbarium on to my assistant, Farlow, who, however, will have his hands full enough without it. As to the way you are doing up Cuban botany, I do not find fault with it. I think, with you, that you are doing about the best possible thing under the circumstances. The only thing that you may justly complain of me for, I think, is my sensitiveness and pooh-poohing new-species-making in families where old species are yet all in a jumble, and where I have thought that you could not yet tell what were new and what old. I dare say I have been too impatient about it, and I see I have hurt your feelings somewhat, which I am sorry for. I only meant, take time and pains to clear up the old ones in the books, and get a better assurance, if you can, about the proposed new ones. But, after all, it is wrong and foolish in me to worry myself, or you, about them.