THE AMERICAN BOTANIST 



Tarquinius Supurbus when he was in power on the banks of 

 the Tiber. We are still willing to sell a complete set to date for 

 $11.00 but we have not many to sell. We have also sold all the 

 back numbers of the Fern Bulletin. . The latter magazine ran 

 through twenty volumes and at its demise, in 1912, there were 

 only thirty-two complete sets in existence. These sets have 

 since rapidly advanced in price and the sets of the American 

 Botanist are bound to do the same. Those who lack complete 

 files w^ould do well to complete them at once — but do not ask 

 us to sell the odd volumes. 



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In a recent issue we commented upon a horrendous story 

 relative to an ant's head walking about by itself, in which w^e 

 took the ground that the author of the story must be a nature 

 faker of the deepest dye, inasmuch as an ant's legs are attached 

 to its thorax and not to its head. The feat is clearly impossible 

 for lack of feet. The Guide to Naiure, however, reprinted the 

 article and immediately got into hot water, for the author of the 

 story happened to see it and indignantly aserted that ants' heads 

 do walk about without bodies and suggested that w^e adopt as 

 our motto the time honored phrase, "Be sure you are right and 

 then go ahead." A careful survey of the matter how^ever, con- 

 vinces us that we need not hesitate to put on the accelerator. 

 The facts are that a certain parasite lays its eggs in the ant's 

 back hair and when the egg hatches the larva gnaws off the 

 ant's head, and makes himself a cunning little domicile where 

 the ant's brains used to be, thereafter dragging or pushing the 

 empty head about as a hermit crab drags its shell. But what 

 this has to do with an ant's head walking around by itself, is 

 more than w^e can fathom. Possibly we are expected to play 

 the game according to the rules, but in that case we can tell 

 much more remarkable tales than any that relate to an automo- 

 bile ant's head. We know of a dinner pail that walks two miles 

 to work every morning and at noon visits a saloon and comes 



