I sympathize deeply with our Florist friend, who recently sent to our genial Editor to help him out, the list of plants bearing such names as Lizzard's Back, Dutchman's Breeches, etc. When I have found a particularly beautiful and desirable native plant, I meet with just such names. Recently I have turned my attention to our native Flora, which has so much worthy of introduction into our gardens; and last winter, fall and spring I have been tantalized almost to distraction when I appealed to the natives for names - local, I mean - I never dare hope to gain the botanical cognomen. I found in one ramble a low-growing shrub (never over 10 feet) with the most brilliant glowing blood-red twigs, and found it so beautiful, denuded as it was of foliage, that I collected a dozen specimens and carried to my kitchen garden and planted; all now growing beautifully. I asked several persons its name, and one and all replied, Swamp Dogwood (Cornus), and I at once jumped to the conclusion, woman-like, (Who is it says, "a woman arrives at her conclusions intuitively, a man by reasoning?") that it was Cornus sanguinea, until our long-suffering, patient, forbearing Editor set me right again. How many more stupid mistakes will I make, I wonder ? But he did not tell me what it was.

The plant is now in full flower, has flat panicles (like Laurustinus) of very fragrant pure white flowers, four petaled, quite attractive, and a profuse bloomer. If this had no other attraction it would be desirable; but its brilliant red twigs, glistening as if freshly varnished, would add much to our lawns when stern winter holds high carnival with us. I would much like to have the real name. In gathering huge clusters this A. M„ I met a native, and asked him the name. He replied, Possum-fruit - meaning an opossum - a wild four-footed native here, which is much relished by Southerners, dressed as a three-months' old pig or shoat is, stuffed and roasted whole, served with sugary-backed sweet potatoes. Our beautiful South land is rich, bountifully so, in native plants; vines, tubers, bulbs and shrubbery amongst them. Azaleas and Rhododendrons, that fairly rival the exotic ones, in buff, white and rose; Gelsemium sempervirens (Carolina Yellow Jasmine), that puts to the blush the highly-lauded and overrated Clematis; Yucca filamentosa (or pen-dula) in June, with clusters of flowers, stalk full 4 feet high, with hundreds of its creamy white tulip-shaped, fragrant blossoms loading the air with a subtle perfume. No wonder Southerners are indolent.

Our flower-perfumed atmosphere is enough to intoxicate one, as hashish does the Oriental. I love to write of this beauteous South, where my home is, and where my grave I hope will be.

Spartansburg, South Carolina. [The common name of this plant in the South is "Red Osier," though some will contend that it is a pity osier is not wholly kept for willows. But if we must have popular names, we must take what the people give us. Just so some will argue that the Carolina Jasmine is not a Jasmine, or the Tulip poplar not a poplar at all.

But to return to the Dogwood. Botanically it is Cornus stolonifera. It bears white fruit, and hence is often called in nurseries White-fruited Dogwood. It is not safe to call it Red Dogwood, because there are a number of Dogwoods with red twigs. Cornus sericea has red twigs, and so has the European species, Cornus sanguinea, which is usually called English Dogwood in nurseries.

The great beauty of the Red Osier in landscape gardening is well known, and it is very popular with the profession for making ornamental winter groups. - Ed. G. M].