a great number of Cypripedium insigne received at St. Albans, and “established,” Mr. Sander noted one presently of which the flower-stalk was yellow instead of brown, as is usual.  Sharp eyes are a valuable item of the orchid-grower’s stock-in-trade, for the smallest peculiarity among such “sportive” objects should not be neglected.  Carefully he put the yellow stalk aside—­the only one among thousands, one might say myriads, since C. insigne is one of our oldest and commonest orchids, and it never showed this phenomenon before.  In due course the flower opened, and proved to be all golden!  Mr. Sander cut his plant in two, sold half for seventy-five pounds to a favoured customer, and the other half, publicly, for one hundred guineas.  One of the purchasers has divided his plant now and sold two bits at 100 guineas.  Another piece was bought back by Mr. Sander, who wanted it for hybridizing, at 250 guineas—­not a bad profit for the buyer, who has still two plants left.  Another instance occurs to me while I write—­such legends of shrewdness worthily rewarded fascinate a poor journalist who has the audacity to grow orchids.  Mr. Harvey, solicitor, of Liverpool, strolling through the houses at St. Albans on July 24, 1883, remarked a plant of Loelia anceps, which had the ring-mark on its pseudo-bulb much higher up than is usual.  There might be some meaning in that eccentricity, he thought, paid two guineas for the little thing, and on December 1, 1888, sold it back to Mr. Sander for 200l.  It proved to be L. a.  Amesiana, the grandest form of L. anceps yet discovered—­rosy white, with petals deeply splashed; thus named after F.L.  Ames, an American amateur.  Such pleasing opportunities might arise for you or me any day.

The first name that arises to most people in thinking of warm orchids is Cattleya, and naturally.  The genus Odontoglossum alone has more representatives under cultivation.  Sixty species of Cattleya are grown by amateurs who pay special attention to these plants; as for the number of “varieties” in a single species, one boasts forty, another thirty, several pass the round dozen.  They are exclusively American, but they flourish over all the enormous space between Mexico and the Argentine Republic.  The genus is not a favourite of my own, for somewhat of the same reason which qualifies my regard for O. vexillarium.  Cattleyas are so obtrusively beautiful, they have such great flowers, which they thrust upon the eye with such assurance of admiration!  Theirs is a style of effect—­I refer to the majority—­which may be called infantine; such as an intelligent and tasteful child might conceive if he had no fine sense of colour, and were too young to distinguish a showy from a charming form.  But I say no more.