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part of every week. Under his wizard touch, this little country home lot became a botanical museum. Month by month he added to his treasures until he was nearing the consummation of his ambition to possess a healthy growing specimen of every variety of flowering plant that could be induced to take root in the latitude and longitude of New York City. There were oriental poppies of all colours, by the thousands, iris from March to July, rock plants from all over the world covering the cliffs and ledges, tulips in profusion of species. The 'Matilija' poppy from lower California and Japanese anemones running wild were only two of the attractions which drew to this little garden on every Sunday a steadily widening group of friends. The flowering shrubs were overshadowed by conifers from the far corners of the globe; Sequoia gigantea from the slopes of the Pacific coast ranges, Torreyas from Florida, Banksian pines from Hudson's Bay, deodars from India. The parting from that garden within sight of the reflected lights of Broadway was not least among the tragedies of Livingston's last year.
When the members of the firm of Dodd, Mead & Company, in 1910, decided to devote their ener-
