After patient waiting we are so glad to see the Wood Anemone once more that we are hardly inclined to discuss the origin of the name, Wind-flower, sometimes applied to the plant. Our artist evidently approves of the term, for he shows us the star-like blossoms driven by the breeze. Prior, a scholar as well as a botanist, accepts the derivation of Anemone from anemos - wind, and narrates how the flower originated from the tears shed by Venus over the dead body of Adonis; but we are so skeptical now-a-days that all the writers, from Bion to Prior inclusive, would not induce us to believe that except as a fairy tale. Nor are we more inclined to believe that Pliny was right when he said the flower was so named because it never opens but when the wind is blowing. All we know is that the wind has been blowing pretty hard in our garden lately, but it is only to day (April 20) when the wind has abated, that we have noticed both single and double Wood Anemones in flower. We return to Messrs. Britten and Holland's Dictionary of Plant Names, in the hope of getting information; and so we do, for we find our elegant little friend has no fewer than eighteen synonyms! We feel a grim satisfaction at this, for profane Philistines, who like popular names, are apt to poke fun at the botanists, not only for the uncouthness of their nomenclature, but also for the profusion of their synonyms.

Well, let us see how these things are managed by the profane. Here is, first, the botanical name - Anemone nemorosa, L. - two words known and accepted all over the world, and capable of being referred to in the books of all countries. That is the one botanical name - now for the profane: - " Bow Bells, Cowslip, Crowfoot (wood), Cuckoo flower, Cuckoo-spit, Darn-grass, Drops of Snow, Enemy, Granny's Nightcap, Jessamine (wild), Moon-flower, Neminies, Smell Foxes, Smell Smock, Soldiers, Underground (?), Wind-flower and Wind-plant." Utrum horum mavis accipe, we are inclined to say, but don't bewilder us with any. - The Garden.