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“She will be here soon,” said Mary, “for it is churning day, and she always comes to help exactly at noon.”

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of this phenomenon; the newspapers and magazines re-echo “Race Suicide,” but there is no sign whatever in the statistical curves of the smallest decimal per cent. of response to these exhortations.

I am gratefully sensible of the honourable distinction implied in the determination of the Delegates of the Clarendon Press to have my History of Botany translated into the world-wide language of the British Empire. Fourteen years have elapsed since the first appearance of the work in Germany, from fifteen to eighteen years since it was composed,—a period of time usually long enough in our age of rapid progress for a scientific work to become obsolete. But if the preparation of an English translation shows that competent judges do not regard the book as obsolete, I should be inclined to refer this to two causes. First of all, no other work of a similar kind has appeared, as far as I know, since 1875, so that mine may still be considered to be, in spite of its age, the latest history of Botany; secondly, it has been my endeavour to ascertain the historical facts by careful and critical study of the older botanical literature in the original works, at the cost indeed of some years of working-power and of considerable detriment to my health, and facts never lose their value,—a truth which England especially has always recognised.

"Have no fear, you dog! I am not going to put murder on my soul for a wretch such as you! But I will mark you so that you will be a by-word amongst men for the rest of your days!"

He took wry pleasure in imagining what was going on aboard Jodrell Bank at that moment. At least not all the bewilderment was his own. They would be utterly baffled. As far as they were concerned, their navigator had been on the bridge at one moment and the next moment gone, tracelessly. That in itself was a major puzzle; the only way off an FTL ship in flight was in the direction called "suicide." That would have been their assumption, all right, as soon as they realized he was gone and checked the ship to make sure he was not for some reason wandering about in a cargo hold or unconscious in a closet after some hard-to-imagine attack from another crewman. They would have thought that somehow, crazily, he had got into a suit—there was the suit—and jumped out of a lock. But there would have been no question of going back to look for him. True, they could have tracked his subspace radio if he had used it. But what would have been the good of that? The first question, an all but unanswerable one, would be how long ago he had jumped. Even if they knew that, Jodrell Bank, making more than five hundred times light-speed, could not be stopped in fewer than a dozen light-years. They could hardly hope to return to even approximately the location in space where he might have jumped; and there was no hope of reaching a position, stopping, casting about, starting again—the accelerations were too enormous, a man too tiny a dust-mote.

names of botanists and of their writings, no mere list of the dates of botanical discoveries and theories; such was not at all my plan when I designed it. On the contrary I purposed to present to the reader a picture of the way in which the first beginnings of scientific study of the vegetable world in the sixteenth century made their appearance in alliance with the culture prevailing at the time, and how gradually by the intellectual efforts of gifted men, who at first did not even bear the name of botanists, an ever deepening insight was obtained into the relationship of all plants one to another, into their outer form and inner organisation, and into the vital phenomena or physiological processes dependent on these conditions.

"You could find a girl," Piacentelli said.

Jorgenson listened grimly. The new Grand Panjandrum had made him—Jorgenson—a provincial governor.

1."Excellent color, don't you agree?" He turned his eyes on Georges.

2.I have pushed it away from the pebbly strand,

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