A correspondent sends us the following clipping from the Westminster Gazette. We are unable to vouch for its accuracy, but as it may give some cultivator a hint we reprint it in full.

In a beautiful garden at Crouch End, belonging to one of the few old world bowers which have withstood the tempting offers of the building speculator, may be seen one of the queerest freaks that Nature has ever played in park or garden. About three years ago a long row of glass ginger bottles were placed neck downward in the ground, with a few inches of the other end projecting to form a border for the kitchen garden paths. Each of these bottles now contains a fairy-like resident in the shape of a dainty little fern, perfect in form and color, and of many varieties, the ribbon fern and hart’s-tongue predominating. As no ferns had at any time been planted in that part of the garden it is amazing how they got there. Perhaps Nature thought it foolish to waste so many little natural hothouses, and put in each a pinch of the stuff she makes ferns of. If so, she must view with much pride the result of her experiment.

Miss Angie M. Ryon, Niantic, Conn., reports finding fine plants of Ophioglossum vulgatum upon a very rocky hillside, the roots crowding themselves between the bits of rock that had been broken up by loads of heavy timber passing over them the previous year. The plants were exposed to the full rays of the sun for most of the day.