4 Dog-Trotting for OrcHids 



with the other sisters of this genus in New England, 

 this species usually reaches its prime about June 20th. 



On the east side of the garden towered an ambitious 

 row of ferns, some twenty root clusters or more, includ- 

 ing many rare species. Here was an especially queer 

 little strap-like leaf, which one would scarcely call a 

 fern unless one were a professed fern-hunter. It is 

 the rare Walking Leaf {Camptosorus rhizophyllus), the 

 scientific name meaning a bent heap, and the appear- 

 ance of the plant indeed is suggestive of the name. 

 The frond is from four to twelve inches long, springing 

 from a heart-shaped base and reaching out a long, nar- 

 row runner, which readily roots at the end again, and 

 thence takes a step onward, and so on, until three or 

 four steps are taken, often in this way forming a beauti- 

 ful carpet for the cold gray lime rocks, which it prefers 

 in its native haunts. 



The Walking Fern is shy in its habitat, seeking the 

 most hidden crevices in ledges along our mountain 

 sides. I have collected it in many dark ravines, as 

 well as along dry, rocky ridges in the Hoosac High- 

 lands. It takes kindly to cultivation for a season or 

 two, and then dies out for want of its natural soil of 

 limestone. 



A short walk toward West Rock, New Haven, 

 showed me how far advanced the season really was. 

 Here were crowds of children playing in fields covered 

 with violets and bluets, and farther down in the damp 

 meadows were long, serpentine lines of gold, where 

 the Marsh Marigolds {Caltha palnstris), known com- 



