The reference to seven-toed kittens and two-headed rabbits, as fair parallels to the finest fern varieties in the mind of the average student, is a poor compliment to the student who would certainly benefit by a better acquaintance with the plumose section of varieties at any rate. With the many botanists stated to exist in the States who “prefer a wild rose to all the gardeners’ many-petalled creations” I have more sympathy, but here comes in the old botanical mistake embodied in the term “garden forms” of ferns as applied to all varieties, with the wild finds of which the gardeners have had nothing whatever to do. What would such a botanist do if in his rambles among the wild roses he came across a Marechal Niel as a wild sport? That is a fair parallel to some of our best wild finds as compared with the normal types, and he would be a singular man, I opine, in more senses than one, if he turned up his nose at it as a mere variant and held his tongue for ten years without describing it. I am gratified to the editor for holding all his abnormal specimens at my disposal, but, reading between the lines, I fear they would embrace no acquisitions from my point of view, or he would not be so ready to part with them. I hope sooner or later he will come across a thoroughbred and become thereby a convert to my theory, that constant and symmetrical variations are fully as much, if not more, entitled to both lay and scientific attention than the normal specific forms from which, by some occult process, they arise under natural conditions.