86 
NATURE NOTES 
nocturnal lepidoptera that pollinate the primrose, it is certainly 
difficult to trace any causal relationship between its heterostylism 
and wind-pollination. I do not believe that the method of 
fertilisation in any one species is necessarily the same in all 
parts of its distributional area ; in other words, it is not improb- 
able that an insect-fertilised species may extend beyond the 
limits of its insect fertilisers. The careful observations of Pro- 
fessor Weiss and others have shown that, even in the cold and 
often sunless season when the primrose flowers in England, 
there are insects of several species that do visit its blossoms. It 
is, however, a question whether these are sufficiently numerous 
to account for a large proportion of the seed set. 
Mr. Bell objects that the exclusion of all but a few insects 
is an ill adaptation for insect visitors ; but, on the contrary, I 
would urge, from the analogy of other cases, such as orchids, 
that this represents a specially high order of adaptation, more 
specialised than that of such a flower as the buttercup, whose 
honey is accessible to any chance visitor. The matter is now 
pre-eminently one for observation and not for mere speculation. 
I do not for a moment believe that Darwin ever meant to 
affirm that “ illegitimate ” or even self-pollination was altogether 
excluded. 
It is important that the question should not be confused by 
any errors in mere nomenclature; so that I much regret Mr. 
Bell’s citation of Linnaeus and Bentham as to specific identity 
between P. veris, acaulis, and elatior. Such a view makes the word 
species absolutely meaningless. Three forms, constant under 
cultivation, differing in foliage, perfume, colour, floral markings 
and habitat are assuredly as well entitled to rank as species as 
any forms belonging to one genus can be. The hybrids, which 
it is a pity to call oxlips, are markedly distinct from P. elatior 
and have all those intermediate characters which generally 
pertain to hybrids. 
RAIN. 
From the Danish Jacobsen's “ Siren Voices." 
VERYTHING gleamed, sparkled, sprouted. Leaves, 
branches, trunks, everything glistened with wet ; 
every little drop that fell on the earth, on the grass, 
on the stile, or wherever it might be, was spluttered 
and sparkled about in thousands of fine pearls. Small drops 
hung a little while, then became large drops, dropped down 
here, joined other drops, became small streams, were lost in 
small furrows, ran into large and out of small holes, sailed 
away with dust, with splinters and bits of leaves, ran them 
aground, set them afloat, whirled them round and set them 
