A Wild Iris A plant very beautiful in the wild
but neglected by gardeners is now reaching the first stage of its excellence in the South-West of England. It has been ruined perhaps by its name, the stinking iris. Neither the Latin nor the English attribute, foetid or stinking, is a tribute. The plant abounds in sandy places near the sea. The flower is of a pleasant hue and comes out at a valuable season, and later in the year this iris has a virtue all to itself. Its seeds when the outer case splits are as gorgeous as those of the spindle tree. The not uncommon ambition to see an iris bloom in every month of the year would be more easily obtainable by the encouragement of this despised native Iris Foetida.