[It is doubtless as difficult for Mr. Druery to understand our position in this matter as it is to understand his. How a _student_ of ferns can care for what might be termed abnormal variations is beyond our comprehension. The student is always interested in normal variations, if we may so describe the common, slight variations in form and texture due principally to ecological factors; in fact, it is necessary that we take all such into account in order to get a correct average of the species; but to give serious attention to forked, crested, plumed, tasselled and befrizzled specimens of ferns, which are manifestly due to the slipping of a cog somewhere in Nature’s machinery, is quite out of the question. We grant that some of these attain forms that merit admiration for their beauty, or oddity, as showing what Nature can do in the way of leaves, but we maintain that were these forms animal, instead of vegetable, they would excite only feelings of repulsion. Now, the student of fern species is quite inclined to think of these “freaks,” as he calls them, much as others would if they _were_ animal. The botanist may admire the form, hue and perfume of the gardener’s rose, but this is not the rose he cares to study. In the early numbers of The Fern Bulletin, upward of sixty American ferns have been put on record as bearing forked or tasselled fronds, and so far as the editor is aware, not one of these has been taken into cultivation and only a very few have been given names. This fact will probably explain our position to some extent. When the editor has leisure, he is going to dig up every one of these variants in his own locality and send them to Mr. Druery, in anticipation of which it would be well for the latter to consult his gardener and glazier about an extension to his ferneries.—Ed.] FERNS IN BOTTLES. A correspondent sends us the following clipping from the _Westminster Gazette_. We are unable to vouch for its accuracy, but as it may give some cultivator a hint we reprint it in full. In a beautiful garden at Crouch End, belonging to one of the few old world bowers which have withstood the tempting offers of the building speculator, may be seen one of the queerest freaks that Nature has ever played in park or garden. About three years ago a long row of glass ginger bottles were placed neck downward in the ground, with a few inches of the other end projecting to form a border for the kitchen garden paths. Each of these bottles now contains a fairy-like resident in the shape of a dainty little fern, perfect in form and color, and of many varieties, the ribbon fern and hart’s-tongue predominating. As no ferns had at any time been planted in that part of the garden it is amazing how they got there. Perhaps Nature thought it foolish to waste so many little natural hothouses, and put in each a pinch of the stuff she makes ferns of. If so, she must view with much pride the result of her experiment.