118 AMERICAN FERN JOURNAL 
Baltimore gets its water from the river, and a few 
years ago it became necessary to erect a new and much 
higher dam. This improvement was bad enough, be- 
cause the higher water covered my only colonies of 
fringed gentian, of Lycopodium clavatum and of a curious 
depauperate form of Dennstedtia punctilobula which B. 
D. Gilbert, against my protest, named var. nana. 
Drowned also are two patches of ostrich fern, one’ of 
them the first reported south of Pennsylvania. 
Now that the Water Board has put several square 
miles of land under the protection of the State Conserv- 
ation Commission, many other plants are safe even from 
botanists. No doubt it is all for the best, but it is cold 
comfort to think so. And it is hard to think so when If 
remember the fox grape vine more than five inches in 
diameter, which it was a pleasure just to look at. Near 
by was a group of papaw trees, the only ones on which 
fruit could be found every year, and one of three colon- 
ies of Filix fragilis. The other two are farther down the 
river, one in a rocky ravine and the other on a steep 
grassy bank. Judging by the shape and habit of the 
fronds, and having no knowledge of intermediate forms, 
one would be almost justified in calling them distinet 
species. : 
Across the river, on rocks that lie in the full blaze o 
the sun, is the only Selaginella rupestris known near 
Baltimore. This moss-like plant was identified for me 
by a professor of mathematics in the University of Bonn, 
then lecturing in Baltimore. That was on Thanksgiv- 
ing Day, 1893. He was rather disgusted to find that 
the countryside was not dotted with inns, because he 
had brought no lunch with him, and mine was not 
enough for two. We stopped at a farmhouse where 
they gave us bread and preserved tomatoes. These 
were eaten on the doorstep while a flock of turkeys 
looked on. I never learned whether or not he had 
turkey that evening for a late dinner. 
