intermissions, of course, and many a success in discovering other fine
things. But Mr. Ericksson despaired at last. In one of his expeditions
to Sumatra he climbed a mountain--it has been observed before that one
must not ask details of locality when collecting orchid legends. So well
known is this mountain, however, that the Government, Dutch I presume,
has built a shelter for travellers upon it. There Mr. Ericksson put up
for the night. Several Europeans had inscribed their names upon the
wall, with reflections and sentiments, as is the wont of people who
climb mountains. Among these, by the morning light, Mr. Ericksson
perceived the sketch of a Cypripedium, as he lay upon his rugs. It
represented a green flower, white tipped, veined and spotted with
purple, purple of lip. "_Curtisi_, by Jove!" he cried, in his native
Swedish, and jumped up. No doubt of it! Beneath the drawing ran: "C.C.'s
contribution to the adornment of this house." Whipping out his pencil,
Mr. Ericksson wrote: "Contribution accepted. Cypripedium
collected!--C.E." But day by day he sought the plant in vain. His cases
filled with other treasures. But for the hope that sketch conveyed, long
since he would have left the spot. After all, Mr. Curtis might have
chosen the flower by mere chance to decorate the wall. The natives did
not know it. So orders were given to pack, and next day Mr. Ericksson
would have withdrawn. On the very evening, however, one of his men
brought in the flower. A curious story, if one think, but I am in a
position to guarantee its truth.

Of another class, but not less renowned in its way, was the sale of
March 11th last year. It had been heavily advertised. A leading
continental importer announced the discovery of a new Odontoglossum. No
less than six varieties of type were employed to call public attention
to its merits, and this was really no extravagant allowance under the
circumstances alleged. It was a "grand new species," destined to be a