72 THE PLANT WOKLD 



I have a distinct remembrance of stepping into one of these holes and 

 coming down on one knee with force enough to break it, it seemed to 

 me. The Aneimia develops best when growing around the mouths of 

 these openings. But neither it nor the Pteris want shade, only a little 

 protection from high winds. Tourists sometimes report finding an 

 Adiantum in this region. It is this Aneimia, whose sterile fronds some- 

 what resemble Adiantum CapiUns- Veneris, though much thicker. 



Two other ferns which become associated in the mind are Aspleniwn 

 serratum and Polypodiwn pliyUitidis. They both grow on the ground in 

 hammocks, the clustered thick fronds being about two feet long, narrow 

 and undivided. Almost any one but a botanist would take them to be 

 one and the same species. The Asplenium, is the handsomer of the two, 

 but it is very rare. The Polypodium is frequently met with as far north 

 as Cape Canaveral. Those who have my last specimens of this fern may 

 be interested in an amusing incident that followed this collection. I 

 was traveling in a sail boat on one of the lagoons which makeup the so- 

 called Indian River and had stopped at Sewell's Point to explore a 

 neighboring hammock. Returning with a big bunch of the Polypodium 

 clasped in one hand I found my boat lying outside of a small row boat. 

 I carelessly stepped into the latter with the intention of swinging myself 

 across to the sail boat, but in doing so gave the little boat a momentum 

 exceeding my own and in an instant found myself hanging to it by the 

 heels, with my head near the bottom of the river. My boatman, hear- 

 ing the splash, rushed to my assistance, and, seeing my feet, readily 

 judged where the rest of me was to be found and pulled me out. My 

 hat had to be fished in, but I did not let go the ferns till I was in my 

 own boat. I had to sit in water-soaked clothes for an hour, but had the 

 consolation of having dry feet. The only damage sustained was the 

 stoppage of my watch and a $5 job on it later. The only danger escaped 

 was a stunning blow on the head in my fall backward toward the wharf 

 steps, which I may have missed by a hair's breath. 



I will now conclude these desultory notes with a story of the float- 

 ing fern, Ceratopteris thalictroides, which seems to me the most interest- 

 ing of all ferns. In October, 1879, after a five months' cruise on the East 

 Coast lagoons, I arrived at Titusville, where there is a portage of seven 

 miles to the headwaters of St. Johns. In June, I had deposited my first 

 month's collections with an acquaintance of that place, and in August 

 had sent tAvice as many more of my bundles to his care. I expected to 

 find all stored in a dry and safe place. What my astonishment to find 

 that they had all been deposited in a frail boat house at the end of a 

 wharf ! And I was warned that with the high water and violent weather 

 then prevailing the house was likely to be washed away any day. 



[Continued in Next Issue.] 



