The Farm Journal, of Philadelphia, is the centre of a wonderful set of correspondents, who are very much alarmed about the editor of the Gardener's Monthly. Every once in a while some one writes to it about him, seeming to prefer the Farm Journal to any other for making the inquiry. Sometimes a correspondent wants to know about "the State Botanist," or the "editor of a bogus paper;" and then, again, it may be "a botanist of Ger-mantown," or "a nurseryman of Germantown," whose doings worry the correspondents' souls. The most interesting feature of this literature is the answers. They fit the questions wonderfully. Indeed, if the answers had been on file, waiting for the correspondence to come along, they could not be more timely, seasonable and fresh.

The latest is from a correspondent who is troubled about an article written by a "high authority" in Germantown for the Germantown Telegraph. The editor gives solace to this anxious heart by assuring it, that there are lots of persons who love to write "in order to hear themselves talk." The editor, it must be said to his credit, generally tells his long list of almost heart-broken correspondents that the queer fellow who " writes to hear himself talk," and who does so many other extraordinary things, cannot possibly be the editor of the Gardener's Monthly. And yet the editor of the Gardener's Monthly does not know but he might be a proud listener to the sweet sounds which it seems float in the evening breeze from some one's pen, and is almost sorry the Farm Journal cannot assure its disconsolate friends that they have actually identified the right man.