stem may be cut through and the crown
replanted, with leaves perfect; but it will be so much shorter, of
course. The finest specimen I ever heard of is the _V. Lowii_ at
Ferrieres, seat of Baron Alphonse de Rothschild, near Paris. It fills
the upper part of a large greenhouse, and year by year its twelve stems
produce an indefinite number of spikes, eight to ten feet long, covered
with thousands of yellow and brown blooms.[6] Vandas inhabit all the
Malayan Archipelago; some are found even in India. The superb _V. teres_
comes from Sylhet; from Burmah also. This might be called the floral
cognizance of the house of Rothschild. At Frankfort, Vienna, Ferrieres,
and Gunnersbury little meadows of it are grown--that is, the plants
flourish at their own sweet will, uncumbered with pots, in houses
devoted to them. Rising from a carpet of palms and maidenhair, each
crowned with its drooping garland of rose and crimson and
cinnamon-brown, they make a glorious show indeed. A pretty little
coincidence was remarked when the Queen paid a visit to Waddesdon the
other day. _V. teres_ first bloomed in Europe at Syon House, and a small
spray was sent to the young Princess, unmarried then and uncrowned. The
incident recurred to memory when Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild chose
this same flower for the bouquet presented to Her Majesty; he adorned
the luncheon table therewith besides. This story bears a moral. The
plant of which one spray was a royal gift less than sixty years ago has
become so far common that it may be used in masses to decorate a room.
Thousands of unconsidered subjects of Her Majesty enjoy the pleasure
which one great duke monopolized before her reign began. There is matter
for an essay here. I hasten back to my theme.

_V. teres_ is not such a common object that description would be
superfluous. It belongs to the small class of climbing orchids,
delighting to sun itself upon the rafters of the hottest stove. If this
habit be duly regarded, it is not difficult to flower by any means,
though gardeners who do not keep pace with their age still pronounce it
a hopeless rebel. Sir Hugh Low tells me that he clothed all the trees
round Government House at Pahang with _Vanda teres_, planting its near
relative, _V. Hookeri_, more exquisite still, if that were possible, in
a swampy hollow. His servants might gather a basket of these flowers
daily in the season. So the memory of the first President for Pahang
will be kept green. A pl