RECOLLECTIONS TO 1890. 83 



rent of iny spinning phrases that I am afraid will wear 

 out the patience of those who may try to read them. 

 I have given the diagnosis of several of the members 

 of our Orchid Club, but I have forgotten one of 

 Mr. Dinsmore of Staatsburgh on the Hudson, a great 

 lover of all kinds of vegetation, trees, shrubs, orchids, 

 roses, foliage, plants, and above all jokes in which he 

 was a specialist. One day he came with two friends ; 



one was a Mr. Wells, of Buffalo. I believe the 



other one a Trojan, not of the ancient city of Asia 

 Minor, but Troy, K Y., named Virgil, not Yirgil the 

 Latin poet, but an expressman living in Troy. Mr. 

 Dinsmore with his cheerful and dignified manner told 

 me, Mr. Menand I have the pleasure to introduce these 



two gentlemen friends of mine, one is Mr. Wells 



belonging to an express association of Buffalo, who 

 does not care much for plants except the fermented 

 juice of the grape vine or the distilled seeds of rye or 

 wheat. The other one is Mr. Yirgil to whom you can 

 tell all your jaw-breaking names of plants ; he under- 

 stands Latin as the author of the Bucolics, etc., then 

 burst into an inextinguishable laughing, in which the 

 four of us participated, Mr. Dinsmore and I par- 

 ticularly. I did not know if Mr. Wells understood the 

 joke, but Mr. Yirgil' s laugh was bitter sweety for I do 

 not think he knew what was Virgil the poet. I thought 

 from his look that he had an idea he was the laughing 



