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THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM. 


The Natural History 
of the Farm 


A Guide to the Practical Study of the Sources 
of Our Living in Wild Nature. 


By JAMES G. NEEDHAM 


PROFESSOR OF LIMNOLOGY, GENERAL BIOLOGY AND NATURE STUDY 
IN CORNELL UNIVERSITY 


TrHACA, N, ¥. 
THE COMSTOCK PUBLISHING COMPANY 
1913 


CYBELE 


Spirit of th’ raw and gravid earth 
Whenceforth all things have breed and birth, 
From palaces and cities great 
From pomp and pageantry and state 
Back I come with empty hands 
Back unto your naked lands. 
—L.H. Baitry. 


COPYRIGHT. I9I4 
RY THE 
COMSTOCK PUSLISHING COMPANY 


PRESS OF W. F. HUMPHREY, GENEVA, N.Y. 


PREFACE. 


This is a book on the sources of agriculture. Some there 
may be who, deeply immersed in the technicalities of modern 
agricultural theory and practice, have forgotten what the 
sources are; but they are very plain. Food and shelter and 
clothing are obtained now, in the main, as in the days of the 
patriarchs. Few materials of livelihood have been either 
added or eliminated. The same great groups of animals 
furnish us flesh and milk and wool; the same plant groups 
furnish us cereals, fruits and roots, cordage and fibres and 
staves. The beasts browsed and bred and played, the 
plants sprang up and flowered and fruited, thenasnow. We 
have destroyed many to make room for a chosen few. We 
have selected the best of these, and by tillage and care of them 
we have enlarged their product and greatly increased our 
sustenance, but we have not changed the nature or the 
sources of it. Tosee, as well as we may, what these things 
were like as they came to us from the hand of nature is the 
chief object of this course. 

A series of studies for the entire year is offered in the 
following pages. Each deals with a different phase of the 
life of the farm. In order to make each one pedagogically 
practical, a definite program of work is outlined. In order 
to insure that the student shall have something to show for 
his time, a definite form of record is suggested for each 
practical exercise. In order to encourage spontaneity, -a 
number of individual exercises are included which the student 
may pursue independently. The studies here offered are 
those that have proved most useful, or that aremost typical, 
or that best illustrate field-work methods. There may be 
enough work in some of them for more than a single field trip: 


6 HISTORY OF FARM 


many of them will bear repetition with new materials, or in 
new situations. Each one includes a brief introductory 
statement to be read, and an outline of work to be performed. 
In all of them, it is the doing of the work outlined—not the 
mere reading of the text—that will yield satisfactory educa- 
tional results. 

The work of this course is not new. Much work of this 
sort has been done, and well done, as nature-study, in various 
institutions at home and abroad. But here is an attempt to 
integrate it all, and to show its relation to the sources of our 
living. So it is the natural history, not of the whole range of 
things curious and interesting in the world, but of those things 
that humankind has elected to deal with as a meansof liveli- 
hood and of personal satisfaction in all ages. 

These are the things we have to live with: they are the 
things we have to live by. They feed us and shelter us and 
clothe us and warm us. They equip us with implements for 
manifold tasks. They endow us with a thousand delicacies 
and wholesome comforts. They unfold before us the cease~ 
less drama of the ever-changing seasons—the informing 
drama of life, of which we are a part. And when, in our rude 
farming operations, we scar the face of nature to make fields 
and houses and stock pens, they offer us the means whereby, 
though changed, to make it green and golden again—a fit 
environment wherein to dwell at peace. 

In the belief that an acquaintance with these things would 
contribute to greater contentment in and enjoyment of the 
farm surroundings and to a better rural life, this course was 
prepared. The original suggestion of it came from Director 
L. H. Bailey of the New York State College of Agriculture. 
It was first given in that college by me in codperation with 
Mrs. J. H. Comstock. To both these good naturalists, and 
to all those who have helped me as assistants, I am greatly 
indebted for valuable suggestions. 

James G. NEEDHAM. 


CONTENTS 


PHOEACE® Boi sic silane d avchaild and Hens Whe Moe Aad pS aa eS AES ES page 5 
eed 


PART I. STUDIES FOR THE FALL TERM: 


5 October—January 
1. Mother Earth................. page 2 with Study I on page 15 
2. The wild fruits of thefarm....... 2 
3. The wild nuts of thefarm........ “ a bh na, 40 
4. Thefarm stream ............... dee ae OO ae, EE a 
5. The fishes of the farm stream..... i 46 are) “48 
6,. Pasture plants:< 0.7433 eee08 O83 i ep AO) 56 
7. The wild roots of thefarm ....... “58 Oe ae AS G2 
8. The November seed-crop ....... 66: 68 90 
9. Thedecidioustreesin winter .... ‘ 71 “ Pe age, (SS 2G 
10. Thefarm wood lot.............. an ae “to ' 79 
11. Thefuel woods of thefarm....... ie) Sa eee 86 
12. Winter verdure of thefarm...... “go * AO 92 
13. Thewild mammalsofthefarm... ‘' 96 “ “13. «‘' «-r00 
14. The domesticated mammals..... “tos “aq ‘ TIT 
15. Thefowlsofthefarm........... ie ee i as  TI9 
16. Farmlandscapes .............. “yar "16; 124 
Individual exercises for the Fall Term (Optionals) 
1. Astudent’s record of farm operations............. page 126 
2. Noteworthy views of thefarm..................- 128 
3. Noteworthy trees of thefarm ..... ee ee eee “728 
4. Autumnal coloration and leaffall................ 132 
5. Acalendar of seed dispersal..............--0000- 33 
PART II. STUDIES FOR THE SPRING TERM: 
February—May. 
17. The lay of the land............ page 137, with study a on page 141 
18. The deciduous shrubs ofthefarm “ 143 147 
19. Winter activities of wild animals...“ 150 “ ie : “154 
20. Fiber products of the farm...... "55" 20 “162 
21. A Coating of1Ce s.s42isg0sseaces N64: ees “166 
22. Maple sap andsugar ........... 68" Wee: SEO ID 
23. Nature’s soil conserving operations 175 “23 “179 
24. The passing of the trees ......... 180 “ mw 24. ras 
25. The fence row .............005: “786 “ “25° ‘ 190 
26. Aspring brook..............54. Tor 3 “26 193 


Index 


NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


. Wild spring flowers of the farm . 1368 
. What goes on in the apple eee * 213 
. Thesong birdsofthefarm ...... * 219 
. Theearly summer landscape .... “ 223 


Individual Exercises for the Spring Term (Optionals) 
6. Acalendar of bird return ...............00.-000- page 228 


7. Acalendar of spring growth...................5. 
8. A calendar of spring flowers................00005 
9. Noteworthy wild flower beds of the farm 
10. Noteworthy flowering shrubs of the farm 


. Nature’s offerings for spring anaes Pp. 395 with study a on page 202 
. Acut-over wood-land thicket . 


207 
a ' 212 
300“ 216 
31 221 
32 «4 «226 
‘229 
“ 229 
4h 230 
ab 230 


PART III. STUDIES FOR THE SUMMER TERM: 


June—October. 
. The progress of the season . 
2 Phe clovers. av.rs0s seendedae s 4 237 
. Wild aromatic herbs of thefarm... “ 243 
. The treesinsummer............ 252 
. Weeds of the field.............. " 257 
. Summer wild flowers............ * 264 


. Some insects at work on farm crops ‘‘ 268 


. Insects molesting farm animals .. ‘ 274 
; Outiin the tain ce.sweciaxereass “ 281 
The vines of the farm .......... 285 
FEO: SWAG ic cst tine 3 defeat doe. ssieticeta Gs 291 
The brambles of the farm........ se ‘ 296 
. The population of an old apple tree ‘‘ 302 
. The little brook gonedry........ “ 307 
. Swimming holes ............... 312 
» Winding roadscs o< sane ces a 2a He “316 


Individual Exercises for the Summer Term (Optionals) 


Ti, Argrasscalendar’ ¢ o.gacee cA oacuhewg nace vedo oe 
12. Acalendar of summer wild flowers,............... 
13. Acalendar of bird nesting ..................000. 
14... Bést crops of thefarnt 3.2 ajsccccaws aaa anaes eae 
15. Acorn record Pe ey eit Wore ken re Tero 


- page 233, with Study 33 on page 236 


34 ea 
33. 290 
36 254 
37 263 
38 “267 
39 272 
40 279 
41 283 
42 * 290 
43 ‘295 
44 |, 300 
45 306 
46 “ 31k 
47. 315 
48 319 

page 321 

oS B23 

i‘ 323 

4a 324 

325 
page 326 


333 


I. MOTHER EARTH 


“Brother, listen to what we say. There was a time when our forefathers 
owned this great land. Their seats extended from the rising to the setting 
sun. The Great Spirit had made it for the use of the Indians. He had 
created the buffalo and the deer and other animals for food. He had made 
the bear and the beaver. Their skins served us for clothing. He had 
scattered them over the country and had taught us how to take them. He 
had caused the earth to produce corn for bread. All this he had done for 
his red children because he loved them.” 


—From the great oration of ‘‘Red Jacket,'’ the Seneca Indian, on The Religion of 
the White Man and the Red. 


If you ever read the letters of the pioneers who first settled 
in your locality when it was all a wilderness (and how recent 
was thetime!), you will find them filled with discussion of the 
possibilities of getting a living and establishing a home there. 
Were there springs of good water there? Was there native 
pasturage for the animals? Was there fruit? Was there 
fish? Was there game? Was there timber of good quality 
for building? Was the soil fertile? Was the climate health- 
ful? Was the outlook good? Has it ever occurred to you 
how, in absence of real-estate and immigration agencies, they 
found out about all these things? 

They sought this information at its source. They followed 
up the streams. They foraged: they fished: they hunted. 
They measured the boles of the trees with eyes experienced in 
woodcraft. They judged of what nature would do with their 
sowings by what they saw her doing with her own native 
crops. And having found a sheltered place with a pleasant 
outlook and with springs and grass and forage near at hand, 
they built a dwelling and planted a garden. Thus, a new era 
of agriculture was ushered in. 

Your aricestors were white men who came from another 
continent and brought with them tools and products and 
traditions of another civilization. Their tools, though 
simple, were efficient. Their axes and spades and needles 


9 


10 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


and shears were of steel. Their chief dependence for food 
was placed in cereals and vegetables whose seeds they brought 
with them from across the seas. Their social habits were 
those of a people that had long known the arts of tillage and 
husbandry: their civilization was based on settled homes. 
But they brought with them into the wilderness only a few 
weapons, a few tools, a few seeds and a few animals, and for 
the balance and continuance of their living they relied upon 
the bounty of the woods, the waters and the soil. 

A little earlier there lived in your locality a race of red men 
whose cruder tools and weapons were made of flint, of bone 
and of copper; who planted native seeds (among them the 
maize, the squash, and the potato), and whose traditions were 
mainly of war and of the chase. These were indeed children 
of nature, dependent upon their own hands for obtaining from 
mother earth all their sustenance. There was little division 
oflabor among them. Each must know (at least, each family 
must know) how to gather and how to prepare as well as how 
to use. 

Today you live largely on the products: of the labors of 
others. You get your food, not with sickle and flail and 
spear, but with a can-opener, and you eat it without even an 
inkling of where it grew. So many hands have intervened 
between the getting and the using of all things needful, that 
some factory is thought of as the source of them instead of 
mother earth. Suppose that in order to realize how you have 
lost connection, you step out into the wildwood empty- 
handed, and look about you. Choose and say what you will 
have of all you see before you for your next meal? Where 
will you find your next suit of clothes and what will it be like? 
Ah, could you even improvise a wrapping, and a.string with 
which to tie it, from what wild nature offers you? 

These are degenerate days. One had to know things in 
order to live in the days of the pioneer and the Indian. But 


MOTHER EARTH II 


now one may live without knowing anything useful, ifheonly 
possess a few coins of the realm and have access to a depart- 
ment store. 7 

“Back to nature’ has therefore become the popular cry, 
and vacations are devoted to camping out, and to “foraging 
off to the country” as a means of restoration. But for- 
tunately it is not necessary to go to the mountains or to the 
frontier in order to get back to nature; for nature is ever with 
us at home. She raises our crops with her sunshine and soil 
and air and rain, and turns not aside the while from raising 
her own. While we are engrossed with ‘“‘developing’”’ our 
clearings and are planting farms and cities and shops, she 
goes on serenely raising her ancient products in the bits of 
land left over: in swamp and bog, in gulch and dune, on the 
rocky hillside, by the stream and in the fence row. There 
she plants and tends her cereals and fruits and roots, and 
there she feeds her flocks. Wherever we leave her an opening, 
she slips ‘in a few seeds of her own choosing,:and when we 
abandon a field, she quickly populates it again with wild 
things. They begin again the same old lusty struggle for 
place and food, and of our feeble and transient interference, 
soon there is hardly a sign. 

As forthe wild things, therefore,—the things that so largely 
made up the environment of the pioneer and the red man— 
we need but step out to the borders of our clearing to find most 
ofthem. Ifany one would sharein the experience of prime- 
val times, he must work at these things with his own hands. 
To gain an acquaintance he must apply first his senses and 
then his wits. He must test them to find out what they are 
good for, and try them to find out what they are like: he 
must sense the qualities that have made them factors in the 
struggle for a place in the world of life. Thus, one may get 
back to nature. Thus, one may re-acquire some of that 
ancient fund of real knowledge that was once necessary to 


12 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


our race, and that is still fundamental to a 
good education, and that contributes largely 
to one’s enjoyment of his own environment. 
The best placetobeginisnearhome. Any 
large farm will furnish opportunities. It is 
the object of the lessons that follow to 
help you find the wild things of the farm 
that are most nearly related to your perma- 
nent interests, and to get on speaking terms 
with them. You will be helped by these 
studies in proportion as your own eyes see 
and your own hands handle these wild 
things. The records you make will be of 
value to you only as you write into them 
your own experience: write nothing else. 


Suggestions to students: Theregular field 
work contemplated in this course makes 
certain demands with which indoor labora- 
‘tory students may be unfamiliar. A few 
suggestions may therefore be helpful: 


1. As to weather: Allweather is good 
weather toa naturalist. It is all on nature’s 
program. Each kind has its use in her 
eternal processes, and each kind brings its 
own peculiar opportunities for learning 
her ways. Nothing is more futile than 
complaint of the weather, for it is ever with 
us. It were far better, therefore, to enter 
into the spirit of it, to make the most of it 
and to enjoy it. 


2. As to clothes: Wear such as are 
strong, plain and comfortable. There are 
thorns in nature’s garden that will tear thin 
stuffs and reach out after anything detach- 
able; and there are burs, that will cling 
persistently to loose-woven fabrics. Kid 
gloves in cold weather and high heels at all 


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= oO” 
i id 
J F 
—s w 
a zg 
eal Ld] 
ar) 
tee wu 
4 E 
ae ry 
alr 
= ® 
—lm 
Ae & 
ai © 
Pees i | Ty 
pam) bt < 
emai C2) 
—+ v 
=F £ 
—— 2s @ 
=1 8 
| s 
te §= 
st = 
— or 

. 
So 


Fic.1. Metric and 
English linear measure. 


MOTHER EARTH 13 


times are an utter abomination. Clothing suited to the 
weather will have very much to do with your enjoyment of it 
and with the efficiency of your work. 


3. As to tools: A pocket lens and a pocket knife you 
should own, and have always with you. A rule for linear 
measurements is printed herewith (fig. 1). Farm tools, fur- 
nished for common use, will supply all other needs. 


4. As to the use of the 
blanks provided: Blanks, 
such as appear in the studies 
outlined on subsequent pages, 
are provided for use in this 
course. Take rough copies of 
them with you for use in the 
field, where writing and sketch- 
ing in a notebook held in one’s 
hand is difficult; then make 
permanent copies at home. 
When out in the rain, write 
with soft pencil and not with 
ink. 

5. As to poison ivy (fig. 2): 
Unless you are immune, look 
out for it: a vine climbing by 
aerial rootson trees and fences, 
or creeping over the ground. 
Its compound leaves resemble Fic. 2. Poison Ivy. 
those of the woodbine, but 
there are five leaflets in the woodbine, and but three in 
poisonivy. Lead acetate (sugar of lead) is a specific antidote 
for the poison; a saturated solution in 50% alcohol: should 
be kept available in the laboratory. It is rubbed on the 
affected parts—not taken internally, for it also is a poison. 
If used assoon as infection is discoverable, little injury 
results to the skin of even those most sensitive to ivy poison. 
After lesions of the skin have occurred, through neglect to 
use it promptly, it is an unsafe and ineffective remedy; a 
physician should then be consulted. 


6. As to pockets: Some people don’t have any. But 
containers of some sort for the lesser things, such as twigs and 


I4 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


seeds, studied in the field, will be very desirable. You will 
want to take another look at them after you get back; so 
prepare to take them home, where you can sit at a table and 
work with them. A bag ora basket will hold, besides tools, a 
lot of stout envelopes, for keeping things apart, with labels 
and necessary data written on the outside. 


+7. As to reference books: ‘Study nature, not books’, 
said the great naturalist and teacher, Louis Agassiz. By all 
means, get the answers to the questions involved in your 
records of these studies direct from natureand notfrom books. 
But while you are in the field, you will meet with many things 
about which you will wish to know. Ask your instructors 
freely. Get acquainted, also, with some of the standard 
reference books, which will help you when instructors fail. 
Only a few of the more generally useful can be mentioned 
here. 

There are three classical manuals for use in the eastern 
United States and Canada, that have helped the naturalists 
of several generations. These are Gray’s Manual of Botany, 
Jordan’s Manual of the Vertebrates and Comstock’s Manual 
for the Study of Insects. There are two great cyclopedias, 
both edited by Professor L. H. Bailey—The American 
Cyclopedias of Horticulture and of Agriculture. There are 
many books of nature-study, but most useful of them all is 
Mrs. Comstock’s Handbook of Nature-Study. The best 
single bird book is Chapman’s Handbook of North American 
Birds. A new book that will help toward acquaintance 
with aquatic plants and animals is. Needham and Lloyd’s 
Life of Inland Waters. All these should be accessible on 
reference shelves. 


Note—At Cornell University the field tool that is fur- 
nished to classes for individual use is a sharp brick-layer’s 
hammer weighing about a pound. It is not heavy enough 
to be burdensome, and it is adaptable to a great variety of 
uses, such as digging roots, cracking nuts, stripping bark, 
splitting and splintering kindling, planting seedlings, etc. A 
light hatchet will serve many, but not all of these uses. 


MOTHER EARTH Is 


Study 1. A General Survey of the Farm 


The program of this study should consist of a trip over the 
farm with a good map in hand, showing the streams, the 
roads, the buildings and the outlines of all the fields and 
woods. 


The record. The student should record directly on this 
map, the sort and condition of crops found in all the fields and 
the character of all the larger areas not used as fields. He 
should put down the names of all prominent topographic 
features, hills, streams, glens, etc., that bear names. The 
amount of additional data to be required—dwellings and their 
inhabitants, barns and their uses, etc.—will be determined 
by the area to be covered and the time available. If crops 
are few, colors may be used to make their distribution more 
graphic. If inhabitants are to be recorded, the dwellings 
may be numbered upon the map and the names of their 
occupants written down in a correspondingly numbered list. 
The object is a preliminary survey of the whole area that is to 
be subsequently examined in detail. 


II. THE WILD FRUITS OF THE FARM 


“The mandrakes give a smell, and at our gates are all manner of pleasant 
fruits, new and old, which I have laid up for thee, O my beloved.”’ 

—The Song of Solomon, 7:13. 

The bounty of nature is never more fully appreciated than 
when we see a tree bearing a load of luscious fruit. A tree 
that has been green, like its fellows, suddenly bursts into a 
glow of color, and begins to exhale a new and pleasant fra- 
grance as its product ripens. The bending boughs disclose 
the richness and abundance of its gift to us. 

Among nature’s delicacies there are none so generally 
agreeable and refreshing as her fruits. They possess an 
infinite variety of flavors. Before the days of sugar-making, 
they were the chief store of sweets. They everywhere fulfill 
an important dietary function, both for man and for many of 
his animal associates. 

All fruits were once wild fruits. Most of them exist today 
quite as they came to usfromthehandofnature. Afewhave 
been considerably improved by selection and care. But none 
of them has been altered inits habits. They grow and bloom 
and bear and die as they did in the wildwood. 

They have their seasons, the same seasons that the market 
observes. First come the strawberries, breaking the fast of 
winter’s long barrenness. What wonder that our Iroquois 
Indians celebrated the ripening of the fragrant wild straw- 
berries by a great annual festival! Then come the currants 
and the raspberries and the cherries and the buffalo-berries 
and the mulberries and the plums and many others in a long 
succession, the season ending with the grapes, the apples, the 
cranberries and the persimmons. 

The wild fruits have their requirements also as to climate, 
soil, moisture, etc., and these we must observe if we cultivate 


16 


WILD FRUITS OF FARM 17 


them. Cranberries and some blueberries demand bog con- 
ditions which strawberries and apples will not endure. 

The wild fruits in a state of nature, have their enemiesalso, 
which are ever with them when cultivated. The fruit-fly of 
the cherry, the codling moth of the apple, the plum-curculio 
and all the other insect pests of the fruit garden, have merely 
moved into the garden from the wildwood. And they 
flourish equally in the wildwood still. When, for example, 
an orchardist has rid his trees of codling moths, a fresh stock 
soon arrives from the unnoticed wild apples of the adjacent 
woods, and infests his. trees again. 

So, we must go back to nature to find the sources of our 
benefits and of their attendant ills. 

The wild fruits of the farm all grow in out-of-the way places 
that escape the plow. They grow in the fence-row, by the 
brookside, on the stony slope. If in the forest, they grow 
only in the openings or in the edges; for fruit trees do not 
grow so tall as the trees of the forest cover, and cannot endure 
much shading. The bush fruits especially are wont to spring 
up in thefence-row, where birds have perched and have 
dropped seeds from ripe fruit they have eaten. They area 
lusty lot of berry-bearing shrubs and vines that tend to form 
thickets, and when cut down by the tidy farmer, they spring 
up again with cheerful promptness from uninjured roots. In 
a few years they are in bearing again. The neglected fence- 
row is, therefore, one of the best places to search for the lesser 
wild fruits. 

Of nature’s fruits there is endless variety. They grow on 
tree, shrub, herb and vine. They are large and small, sweet 
and sour, pleasant and bitter, wholesome and poisonous. 
They mellow in the sun like apples, or sweeten with the frosts 
like persimmons. They hang exposed like plums, or are 
hidden in husks like ground-cherries. The edible ones that 
remain growing wild in the autumn are a rather poor lot of 


18 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


small and seedy kinds, that have been hardy enough to hold 
their own, in spite of mowing and grazing and clearing. 
They compare poorly with the selected andcultivated prod- 
ucts of the fruit farm. Yet many of them once served our 
ancestors for food. Collectively they were the sole fruit 
supply of the aboriginal inhabitants of our country. The 
Indians ate them raw, stewed them, made jam, and even 
jellies. They dried the wild strawberries, blueberries, rasp- 
berries and blackberries, and kept them for winter use. They 
expressed the juice of the elderberry for a beverage: indeed, 
the black-berried elder they used in many ways; it was one 
of their favorite fruits. And even 
as the crows eat sumach berries 
“#e in the winter when better fruits 
are scarce, so the Indians boiled 
them to make a winter beverage. 

The cultivated fruits are but a 
few of those that naturehas offered 
us. We have chosen these few on 
account of their size, their quality, and their productive- 
ness. We demand them in quantity, hence they must either 
be large or else be easily gathered. Some, like the June- 
berry, are sweet and palatable, but too small and scattered 
and hard to pick. The wild gooseberry isa rich and luscious 
fruit, but needs shearing before it can be handled. The 
quantitative demands of our appetite, the qualitative de- 
mands of our palate and the mechanical limitations of our 
fingers have restricted us to a few, and having learned how to 
successfully manage these few, we have neglected all the 
others for them. 

Our management has consisted, in the main, of propagating 
from the best varieties that nature offered, and giving culture. 
Any of the wild fruits would probably yield improved varie- 
ties under like treatment. All the wild fruits show natural 


Fic. 3. The Wild Gooseberry. 


WILD FRUITS OF FARM 19 


varieties, the best of which offer proper 
materials for selection. 

Wild fruits, like the cultivated, fall chiefly 
in three categories: core fruits (pomes), 
stone fruits (drupes), and berries. The 
structural differences between pome and 
drupe are indicated in the accompanying 
diagram. The apple is the typical core 
fruit (pomus=apple; whence, pomology). 
The seeds are contained in five hardened 
capsules (ripened carpels), together forming | 
the core, surrounded by the pulp or flesh of 
the apple, which is mostly developed from ‘3 
the base of the calyx. The calyx lobes 3.04 piacramsof 
persist at the apex of the apple, closed pome Sota and 
together above the withered stamens and 
style tips. The plum is a typical stone fruit: the single 
seed is enclosed in a stony covering that occupies the 
center of the fruit and is surrounded by the pulp. The 
term berry is used to cover a number of structural types 
which agree in little else than that they are small fruits with 
a number of scattered seeds embedded in the pulp. 

If, with the coming of improved varieties of cultivated 
fruits, the wild ones have ceased to be of much importance in 
our diet, they still are of importance to us as food for our 
servants, the birds. The birds like them. Nothing will do 
more to attract and retaia a good population of useful birds, 

than a plentiful supply of wild 

BEB See fruits through the summer 

2 Va season. Who that has seen 

SP fey CK orioles pecking wild straw- 

} rE ee berries or robins gormandizing 
on buffalo-berries or waxwings 

aoe ie ee bmmimlenss? stripping a mountain ash, can 


20 


EDIBLE WILD FRUITS 


NAME 


No. 


Kind of Plant? Type of Fruit? Cluster of Fruit3 Size4 


Seeds 


. Crab Apple 


. Hawthorn 


. Mountain Ash 


. Wild Cherry 


. Chokecherry 


. Nannyberry 


. Spicebush 


. Hackberry 


. Wild Grape 


. Elderberry 


. Barberry 


. Yewberry 


1Tree, shrub, vine, etc. 2Pome, drupe, berry, etc. sDiagram, ; 


4Dimensions in millimeters. 


OF THE FARM 


2I 


Proportion of 
Pulp 


Used for What® 


Taste 


Animals 
eating it® 


Remarks 


5Leave blank unless you have personal knowledge. 
6Specify whether foraging on it or living within it. 


22. NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


doubtit? Their tastes have a wider range than ours. Wax- 
wings like cedar berries, and crows eat freely the fruit of 
poison ivy. The close-growing habit of wild bush fruits 
gives congenial shelter and nesting sites, also, to many of 
the smaller birds. 

From all the foregoing it should appear that a little study 
of the natural history of the wild fruits in any locality will 
reveal much concerning the origin and the environing condi- 

tions of one of our valuable resources. 


Study 2. Edible Wild Fruits 


Program—The first part of this 
study is a comparative examination 
of the wild fruits of the farm. The 
fruits.are to be sought in nature, ex- 
3 amined carefully one at a time, and 
their characters are to be written in 
the columns of a table prepared with 
headings as indicated in pp. 20 and 

c 21. The fruits named in the first 
Fic. 6. | The larvae of three column are those commonly found 


common fruit insects: (¢) the 
plum-curculio; (b) the codling about Ithaca, N. Y., in autumn. 


moth; (c) the cherry fruit-fly. 
Earlier in the season, or in another 
region, the list would be very different. 

The second part of this study is a comparison of individuals 
of one kind of wild fruit, such as hawthorns, wild grape, orany 
other that is abundant, with a view to discovering natural 
varieties. Half a dozen or more selected trees, bearing 
number-labels, 1, 2, 3, etc., should have their fruits carefully 
compared as to (1) quality of flesh (as tested by palatability 
at this date); (2) proportion of edible pulp (as compared 
with seeds, skin and other waste); (3) earliness; (4) size and 
form; (5) productiveness; (6) immunity from fungus and 
insects, as evidenced by the cleanness of the fruit inside and 


WILD FRUITS OF FARM 23 


outside. (Immunity from birds and mammals is not desired, 
since these are attracted by the qualities we like). These 
qualities may be set down as column headings to a table, the 
first column being reserved for tree numbers, and then it will 
suffice if the order of excellence be written in each column in 
numerals. For example, in the column for palatability, if 
tree No. 3 be the best flavored, write 1 in line 3 in that 
column; if tree No. 4 be the worst flavored (of 6 trees), write 6 
inline 4 of that column. Arrange the others likewise accord- 
ing to your judgment of their flavor. 


The record of this study will consist of the two tables com- 
pleted, so far as data are available. 


Ill. THE NUTS OF THE FARM 


“The auld guidwife’s weel-hoordet nits 
Are round an’ round divided.” 
—Robert Burns (Hallow-e'en). 

Nature puts up some of her products in neat packages for 
keeping. Among the choicest of them, preserved in the 
neatest andmost sanitary of containers, are the nuts. Richin 
proteins and fats, finely flavored, and with a soft appetizing 
fragrance, these strongly appeal to the palate of man and 
many of his animal associates. Squirrels and other rodents 
and a few birds gather and store them for winter use. In 
pioneer days hogs were fattened on them. It was a simple 
process: the hogs roamed the woods and fed on the nuts 
where they fell. And it is credibly claimed that bacon of 
surpassing flavor was obtained from nut-fed hogs. In earlier 
days the Indian, who had no butter, found an excellent sub- 
stitute for it in the oil of the hickories. He crushed the nuts 
with a stone and then boiled them in a kettle of water. The 
shells sank to the bottom; the oil floated, and was skimmed 
from the surface. 

Most nuts mature in autumn. A heavy, early frost, and 
then a high wind, and then—it is time to go nutting; for so 
choice a stock of food, clattering down out of the tree-tops 
onto the lap of earth, will not lie long unclaimed. It is real 
trees that most nuts grow on—not underlings, like fruit trees, 
but the great trees of the forest cover; trees that are of value, 
also, for the fine quality of their woods. Theyarelong-lived 
and slow-maturing. So, in our farming, we have neglected 
them for quicker-growing crops. 

Practically all the nuts found growing about us are wild 
nuts, that persist in spite of us rather than with our care. 
Hereand there a valued chestnut or walnut tree is allowed to 


24 


NUTS OF THE FARM 25 


Fic. 7. The pig-nut hickory (Hickoria glabra); the whole nut, a cross section of the 
same, and the nut in its hulls (after Mayo). 
occupy space in the corner of the barnyard or in the fencerow, 
and there, relieved of competition, shows what it can do in the 
way of producing large and regular crops. But the nuts are 
wild. There has been but little selection for improved varie- 
ties and little scientific culture of nut-bearing trees. When 
we consider the abundance and value of their product, the 
permanence of their occupation of the ground, the slight cost 
in labor of their maintenance, and the conservation of the soil 
which they promote, this neglect of nut crops among us seems 
unfortunate. 

Two families of plants furnish most of our 
valuable nuts: the hickory family and the 
oak family. The former includes the more 
valuable kinds of nuts; besides true hickories, 
these are pecans, butter-nuts and walnuts. 
In all these there is a bony shell, enclosing 
the four-lobed and wrinkled edible seed. 
The oak family includes besides the acorns 
(few of which are valuable as human food) 
the chestnuts, the filberts, the hazels and the 
beech nuts. In these there is a horny shell 
Fic. 8._ Cross sec enclosing the smooth but compact seed. 


tions of two types of 


nuts in their hulls: (4) 1 1 
nuts in oth neaepye. Certain other members of the oak family, as 


ting hull; (6) hickory the hornbeams, produce nuts that are too 


nut with four-valved i : 
sa small to be worthy of our consideration as 


é 


26 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Fic. 9. The hazel nut (Corylus americanus); nuts in the hull, 
and a kernel in the half-shell (after Mayo). 


food. A few stray members of other families produce 
edible nuts. Those of the linden are very well flavored, 
although minute. Those of the wild lotus of the swamps are 
very palatable and were regularly gathered by the Indians 
for food. They resemble small acorns in size and shape. 
Then there are nuts of large size and promising appearance 
that are wholly inedible. Such are the horse-chestnut and 
the buckeye, which contain a bitter and narcotic principle. 
Certain nuts of large size and fine quality, like the king 
hickory, have not found much popular favor, because their 
shells are thick and close-fitting. They are hard to crack and 
the kernels are freed with much difficulty. Such selection as 
has been practiced with Persian walnuts and pecans is in the 
direction of thin, loose-fitting shells. 
Nuts are unusually well protected dur- 
ing development by hard shells and thick 
hulls of acrid flavor; yet they have not 
escaped enemies. Wormy nuts are fre- 
quent. The most important of the 
“worms” living inside the hulls and feed- 
ing on the kernels are the larve of the 
; _ nut-weevils. These are snout-beetles 
Fig. 10. Leaf outline ‘i ° 
andnutlets of thelinden. that live exclusively upon nuts and are 


NUTS OF THE FARM 27 


very finely adapted for such a life. The snout or rostrum 
of the beetle is excessively elongated, especially in the female 


Fic. 11. The chestnut-weevil (Balaninus proboscideus): 
a, adult; b, same, from side-female; c, head of male, with 
its shorter beak; d, eggs; e, larva: f and _g, pupa from front 
and from the side (from Bureau of Entomology of the 
U.S. Department of Agriculture). 


beetle. The jaws are at its tip. It is used for boring 
deep holes through the thick hulls, down to the kernel. The 
egg is then inserted into the hole, and the larva hatching 


28 


PLANTS PRODUCING 


NAME 


Kind of Plant! 


Height 


LEAVES 


in feet? 
Form? 


Size4 


Margin? 


Shellbark Hickory 
Pignut ~ 
Bitternut “ 
Butternut 
Walnut 
Chestnut 
Beechnut 
Hazelnut 
White Oak 
Chestnut Oak 
Red Oak 


Linden 


Buckeye 


* Tree, shrub, or herb. 


‘Width by length in inches; of a single leaflet, if compound. 


? Full, approximate. 


3 Diagram, 


WILD NUTS AND ACORNS. 


29 


NUTS: 


Character of 


Hulls 


Shells 


Kernel 


Animals 
eating it® 


Quality® 


>’ Specify whether foraging on it or living within 
6 Palatability, oiliness, starchiness, acridity, etc. 


30 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


from the egg finds there a ready-made passage down to 
its food. The larve have done their destructive work when 
the nuts fall. They are full-grown and are ready to leave the 
nuts and enter the ground, there to complete their trans- 
formations. An easy way to get the larve, and at the same 
time to learn the extent of their infestation, would be to 
gather a few quarts of chestnuts or acorns freshly fallen from 
the trees, and put them in glass jars to stand awhile. The 
larvee ‘eaving the nuts (emerging through remarkably 
small holes which they gnaw through the shell) will descend 
to the bottoms of the jars and remain there, where readily 
seen. They will begin to emerge at once, and in less thana 
fortnight all will be out, and may be counted. These, and 
twig-pruners and bark-beetles, etc., all have to be reckoned 
with in the orchard where nuts are cultivated. In thisstudy 
we will give our attention to the nuts, noting the infesting 
animals only incidentally. 


Study 3. The Nuts of the Farm 


There is but a short period of a week to ten days about the 
time of the first hard frost, when the work here outlined can 
best be done. Take advantage of it, shifting the date of 
other studies, if need be. The tools needed will be hammers 
for cracking the shells, and pocket knives for cutting the soft 
parts of the nuts; also, containers for taking specimens 
home. The use of lineman’s climbers and of beating-sticks in 
the tree-tops is permissible to a careful and experienced per- 
son; but the use of hooks on light poles for drawing down 
horizontal boughs within reach from the ground is safer, 
and has the advantage that all members of the class can see 
what is going on- 


The program of the work will include a visit to the nut- 
bearing trees and an examination of their crop, first on the 


NUTS OF THE FARM 31 


tree,then in the hulls, then shelled, then cracked; then an 
examination of the quality of the kernels. 


The record of this study will consist in: 

1. A table prepared with column headings as indicated on 
pages 28 and 20, and filled out from the study of the speci- 
mens. 

2. Simple sectional diagrams, showing the structure of 
such diverse forms as the following: 

(a) A butternut or walnut. 

(b) A hickory nut or pecan. 

(c) An acorn. 

(d) A beechnut or chestnut. 

(e) Alinden nutlet. 


IV. THE FARM STREAM 


‘All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place 

from whence the rivers come, thither they return again.” 
—Ecclesiastes 1:7. 

There was a time when the streams of our ‘‘well-watered 
country’? were more highly prized than now. They were 
storehouses of food. They were highways of travel. They 
were channels of transportation. Several things happened to 
divert interest landward. The good timber along the valleys 
was all cut and there were no more logs to be floated down- 
stream to mill. The American plow was invented, making 
possible the tillage of vastly increased areas of ground. 
More cereals could be grown and more forage for cattle. The 
fishes of the streams became less necessary for food; and 
with the phenomenally rapid increase of population which 
followed, the fishing failed. It became easier and cheaper to 
raise cattle for food than to get it by fishing. Then came the 
railroads, providing more direct and speedy transportation 
and travel; and the streams were abandoned. Indeed, 
what happened to them was worse than neglect. The regu- 
larity of their supply of water was interfered with asthe water- 
holding forest cover was destroyed and springs dried up. 
They became dumping places for the refuse of all sorts of 
establishments along their banks. Not even their beauty was 
cared for—their singular beauty of mirroring surfaces and 
sinuous banks of broad bordering meadows, backed by 
wooded headlands. The pioneer was not so blind to the 
grander beauties of nature. Go through the country and 
mark where the first settlements were made. You will find 
them not far from the waterside, but situated where the ample 
beauties of land and water, hill and vale, are spread out to. 
view. Our predecessors would not have been satisfied with a 


32 


THE FARM STREAM 33 


seven-by-nine lot, a bit of lawn with a peony in the front 
yard, and a view of an asphalt pavement. 

Before the surveyor came along, lines were laid down 
according to the law of gravity. The land was divided and 
subdivided, not by fences, but by streams. 

Chief among the agencies that have shaped our farms is the 
power of moving water. By it the soils have been mixed and 
sifted and spread out. Water runs down hill, and the soils 
move ever with it. With every flood, a portion is carried a 
little way, to be dropped again as the current slackens, and 
another portion is carried farther, to mix with soils from 
various distant sources and form new fields at lower levels. 
Small fields are forming now in the beds and borders of every 
stream. And there, even as on land, some of them are ex- 
posed, shifting and barren, and others are sheltered and set- 
tled and productive. 

The rain descends upon the fields and starts down every 
slope, gathering the loosened soil particles, collecting in rills, 
increasing in volume, and cutting gullies and picking up 
loosened stones, and pouring its mixture of mud and stones 
into the creek at the foot of the slope. Then what does the 
creek do with this flood-time burden? Go down to its banks 
and see. See where it has dropped the stones in tumbled 
heaps at the foot of the rapids; the gravel, in loose beds just 
below; the sand, in bars where the current slackens; the 
mud in broad beds where the water is still; for its carrying 
power lessens as its flow slackens, and it holds the finest 
particles longest in suspension. 

It will be evident that, of all these deposits, the mud flats 
are least subject to further disturbance by later floods. Here, 
then, plants may grow, least endangered by the impact of 
stones and gravel and sand in later floods or by the out-going 
ice in spring. So here are the creek’s pleasant fields of green, 
its submerged meadows, whereas the beds where the current 
runs swiftly appear comparatively barren. 


34 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


THE PLANT LIFE OF THE STREAM 


The rapids 
are by no means 
destitute of life. 
Given natural 
waters, a tem- 
perature above 
freezing, light 
and air, plants 
will grow any- 
where: here, 
they must be 
such plants as 
can withstand 
the shower of 
stones that every 

; ; flood brings 
Fic. 12. Spray of riverweed (Potamogeton crispus). 
From a drawing by Miss Emmeline Moore. downupon them. 
They must be 
simply organized plants, that are not killed when their cell 
masses are broken asunder. Such plants are the algae; and 
these abound in the swiftest waters. They form a thin 
stratum of vegetation covering the surfaces of rocks and tim- 
bers. Its prevailing color isbrown, not green. Itsdominant 
plants are diatoms. These form a soft, gelatinous, and very 
slippery coating over the stones. Individually they are too 
small to be recognized without a microscope, but collec- 
tively, by reason of their nutritive value and their rapid 
rate of increase, they constitute the fundamental forage 
supply for a host of animals dwelling in the stream bed with 
them. 

There are green algee also in the rapids. The most con- 
spicuous of these is Cladophora, which grows in soft trailing 
masses of microscopic filaments, fringing the edges of stonesin 


THE FARM STREAM 


the swiftest current, or trailing down the 
ledges in the waterfall, or encircling the 
piling where the waves wash it constantly. 
It is of a bright green color. There are apt 
to be various other algze also, some forming 
spots and blotches of blue-green color on the 
surfaces of rocks, where partly exposed at low 
water, and others forming little brownish 
gelatinous lumps like peas lying on the 
stream bed. Of the higher plants there will 
be hardly any present in the rapids: per- 
haps, a few trailing mosses or other creepers 
rooted in the crevices at the edge of the cur- 
rent, and just escaping annihilation at every 
flood. 

In quiet waters covering muddy shoals 
the vegetation is richer and more varied. 
The dominant plants are seed plants. 


Some of these (such as are shown in Figs. 12 


and 13) grow wholly submerged. Afewgrow 
rooted to the bottom,.but have broad 
leaves (Fig. 14) that rest upon the surface. 


35 


> 


Fic. 13. Leaf-form 
in three common sub- 
merged plants whose 
leaves grow in whorls 
surrounding the stem 
at the nodes: a, the 
common water-weed 
(Elodea canadensis or 
Philotria canadensis); 
, the water horn- 
wort (Ceratophyllum 
demersum); c, the 
water milfoil (Myrio- 
phyllum). 


A few small plants (Fig. 15) float free upon the surface in the 


more sheltered openings. 


And there are many rooted in the 


Fic. 14. Outlines of four common kinds of floating leaves: a, the floating river- 
weed (Potamogeton natans); b, the spatter-dock (Nymphea advena); c, the white water- 


lily (Castaillia odorata); d, the water shield (Brasenia peltata). 


mud atthe bottom, that 


36 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 
stand erect and emer- 
gent with their tops 


et 's 
D above the water. A 


Fic. 15. Floating plants: a, duckweeds; few of the more strik- 

b, the floating liverwort (Ricciocarpus natans). ing and characteristic 

of these are shown in Figure 16. Alge are common 

enough here also. Brown coatings of diatom ooze over- 

spread the submerged stems, and flocculent green mats 

of ‘blanket algae” lie in sheltered openings, often buoyed to 
the surface on bubbles of oxygen. 


THE ANIMAL LIFE OF THE STREAM 


The animals that live in the rapids are small in size, but 
most interesting in the adaptations by means of which they 
are enabled to withstand the on-rush of the waters. One of 
them at least, the black-fly larva, occurs in such numbers as 
to form conspicuous black patches in most exposed places— 
on the very edge of the stones that form the brink of waterfalls 
and on the sides of obstructions in the current. Individually 
these larvae are small (half an inch long), with bag-shaped 
bodies, swollen toward the rear end, where attached by a 
single sucking disc to the supporting surface. Attached in 
thousands side by side, 
they often thickly cover 
and blacken several 
square feet of surface. 
They sway gently in the 
current as they hang with 
heads down stream. 

These ‘larvae spin at- 
tachment threads by Fic. 16. Aquatics that rise from saa tiag 
means of which th ey may water: a, the great bullrush (Scirpus lacustris); 


b, a sweet flag (Acorus calamus); c, the bur- 
ch ange location. Th e ee perth eurycarpum);d, the cat-tail 


THE FARM STREAM 37 


thread is exuded at the mouth (as a a 

liquid which hardens on contact with the aos 
water), attached to the stone and spun 

out tothe desired length. Thelarva, with tne Gicdeay em. 
disc loosened, swings free upon the thread, 

reversed in position and hanging with head upstream. 
After a time it will fasten itself by its sucker again. By 
using a very short thread and its sucker alternately, the 
larva may move short distances over the supporting surface 
in a series of loopings, its position being reversed at each 
attachment in a new place. Black-fly larvae are excellent 
food for fishes, but they live for the most part in places that 
are to fishes wholly inaccessible. They feed upon micro- 
scopic organisms and refuse adrift in the stream, and they 
gather their food out of the passing current by means of a pair 
of fan-like strainers, located on the front of the head near the 
mouth. Adult black-flies of certain species bite fiercely in 
northern forests. Other species, known as ‘“‘buffalo-gnats”’ 
and ‘‘turkey-gnats’’, are important pests of livestock. Other 
species are harmless. 

In the same situations with the 
black-fly larvae, the neat little food- 
traps of the seine-making caddis-worms 
may always be found. Each is a little, 
é transparent, funnel-shaped net, half an 
Fic. 18. Diagram of a inch wide, opening always upstream, 


ine-making caddis-worm’s : : : 
fhe ae “nd his and tapering downward into a silken 


zB a eee ; : : 
Ore A enone ceereak tube, lodged in some sheltering crevice, 
t: d;a,the - : 5 S 2 
front edge ofthe distended in which the greenish, gill-bearing 
1 i t “ . 
ae eee Oe “%, the caddis-worm that makes it dwells. 


i fi A 7 r 
eg ee the Lhen there is a group of diverse in- 


th : : 
seine and adjacent to te sect larvae found habitually in the 


he ee Soe ne rapids clinging to stones, that agree 


ee ’Y in being flattened and more or less 


38 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


limpet-shaped. Two of these are shown in 
Figure 19. In all of them flaring margins 
of the body fit down closely to the stone and 
deflect the water, so that it presses them 
against their support. 

Fic. 19. Two 2 Still water the deep pools are the 
insect larvae that special home of the larger fishes. We shall 


stick to stones in 


rapid water: ¢, the return to them in the next study. In the 
at riffle- beetle 


(Feephenus tecon~ shoaler parts and in the midst of the aquatic 
vanes anidee (Ble- vegetation are the lesser fishesand many other 
familiar vertebrates, frogs and their tadpoles, 
salamanders, turtles, etc., of uncertain occurrence. Much 
more generally distributed and constantly present are a 
few molluscs and crustaceans, such as are shown in Figure 
20. There are a few adult insects (fig. 21) and many insects 
in immature stages (figs. 22, 23) and 24. Some help toward 
the recognition of these may be had from the table on pages 
40 and 41, which contains brief hints, also, of the situation 
they occupy in the water and the role they play in thefood 
consumption. 
There are leeches, and fresh-water sponges and bryozoans, 
and a host of lesser forms of many groups, mostly too small to 


CRUSTACEANS MOLLUSCS 


massed 


Fic. 20. Some common crustaceans and molluscs: crawfish, with the asellus at 
the left and the scud (Gammarus) at the right;—also, a mussel and two snails; 
(Limnea, on the left, and Planorbis on the right). 


THE FARM STREAM 39 


be seen without a 
lens and too num- 
erous even to be 
mentioned here. 
The water is like 
another world of 
life, containing a 
few forms that are 


directly useful to Gre a feulk anaes insects: be the oy ee 
otonecta); b, the water-boatman orixa); c, a diving- 

us and Heatly more beetle (Dytiscus); d, a giant water-bug (Benacus). 

that furnish for- 


age for these; containing a few that are noxious when 
adults, such as black-flies, horse-flies and mosquitoes, anda 
host of other forms, all of interest to the naturalist, but not 
known to be of practical importance. They are all a part 
of the native population of the stream, and each has a share 
in carrying on its natural social functions. 

In the water as on land, green plants represent the great 
producing class, while animals and parasitic plants are the con- 
sumers. And among 
the animals there 
are herbivores and 
carnivores, parasites 
and scavengers. 

One who but casu- 
ally examines the 
animal life of the 
stream is apt to see 
chiefly carnivorous 
forms; for these are 
most in evidence: 

Fic. 22, Aquatic insect larvae: @, a diving-beetle, and here, as else- 
Coptotomus (after Helen Williamson Lyman); }, a 


dobson larva, or hellgrammite, Corydalis cornuta (after where 3 herbivores, 


Lintner); c,an orl-fly larva, Sialis (after Maude H. : 
Anthony). being poorly 


40 


Recognition characters of some of the commoner 


Single distinctive characters 


1. Forms in which the immature stages (commonly known as nymphs) 

and are plainly visible upon the back. 
Common NAME ORDER Form TAILS 
Stone-flies Plecoptera depressed 2, long 
May-flies Ephemerida elongate, variable 3, long: (rarely 2) 
Damsel-flies Odonata slender, tapering rear-} see gills 
ward 

Dragon-flies Odonata stout, variable very short, spinelike 
Water-bugs Hemiptera short, stout, very like| variable 


adults 


2. Forms in which the immature stages differ very greatly from the adults 
visible from the outside, and having the legs shorter, rudi- 


internally and not 


Common NAME ORDER LeGs GILLs 
Water-moths Lepidoptera 3 pairs of minute| of numerous soft white 
jointed legs followed| filaments, or entirely 
by a number of pairs) wanting 
of fleshy prolegs 
Caddis-worms Trichoptera 3 pairs rather long variable or wanting 
Orl-flies Neuroptera 3 pairs shorter 7 pairs of long, lateral 
filaments 
Dobsons Neuroptera 3 pairs tufted at base of lateral 
filaments, or want- 
ing 
Water-beetles Coleoptera 3 pairs usually wanting 
True flies Diptera wanting usually only a bunch 


of retractile anal gills 


3. Further characters of some common dipterous larvae. 


These are distin- 


Common NAME FaMILy HEAD TAIL 

Crane-flies Tipulidae retracted and invisible] a respiratory disc bord- 
ered with fleshy ap- 
pendages 

Net-veined midges Blepharoceridae tapering into body wanting 

Mosquitoes Culicidae free with swimming fin of 
fringed hairs 

Black-flies Simuliidae free with caudal ventral 
attachment disk 

True midges Chironomidae free tufts of hairs 

Soldier-flies Stratiomyiidae small, free floating hairs 

Horse-flies Tabanidae acutely tapering tapering body 

Snipe-flies Leptidae tapering, retractile with two short taper- 
ing tails 

Syrphus-flies Syrphidae | minute extensile process as 
long as the body 

Muscid flies _Muscoidea rudimentary _ truncated 


forms of aquatic insects in their immature stages. 


are printed in italics. 


are not remarkably different from the adults. 


4I 


The wings develop externally 


GILLS OTHER PECULIARITIES HABITAT Foop-HABITS 
many, minute, around] .................... rapids mainly carnivorous 
bases of the legs 
Ppairsioniback |) ha sens adimaacnawsed all waters mainly herbivorous 


3 leaflike 
plates 


internal gill chamber 
at end of body 


wanting 


caudal gill- 


immense grasping lower 
lip 

immense grasping lower 
1p 

Jointed beak for punc- 
turing and sucking 


slow and stagnant 
waters 


slow and stagnant 
waters 


all waters 


carnivorous 
carnivorous 


carnivorous 


of the same species, being more or less wormlike, having wings developed 
mentary, or even wanting (larvae proper). 


Rear Enp oF Bopy 


OTHER PECULIARITIZS 


HABItTaT 


Foop Hasits 


a pair of fleshy pro- 
legs with numerous 
claws on them 


do., with paired larger 
hooks at tip 

@ long tapering tail 

paired hooked claws 


variable 
see next table 


mostly living in port- 
able cases 


head small, often ap- 
parently wanting 


still waters 


“all waters 
gravelly beds 
all waters 


slow or stagnant waters 
all waters 


herbivorous 


mostly herbivorous 
carnivorous 
carnivorous 


carnivorous 
see next table 


guished from aquatic larvae of other groups by the absence of true legs. 


FrLesHy LEGS, oR PRo- 
LEGS 


OrsEeR PEcULIARITIES' 


HasitaT 


Foop Hasits 


variable 


wanting 

wanting 

one beneath the mouth 

I in front, 2 at rear 
end of body 


wanting 
wanting 


stout paired beneath 


wanting 


usually wanting 


flat lobed body with 
row of ventral suckers 


swollen thoracic  seg- 
ments 

“fans on head for 
food-gathering 

live mostly in soft 
tubes 


depressed form 


tubercle covered spin- 
dle-shaped tody 


shoals 


rocks in falls 
pools (at surface) 
rocks in rapids 
all waters 


still water (at surface) 
beds in pools 


rapids under stones 


shallow pools 


herbivorous mostly 


diatoms, etc. 
. 

herbivorous 

herbivorous 


herbivorous 


herbivorous 
carnivorous 


carnivorous 


42 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


equipped for fighting, cannot afford to 
be conspicuous. Butif one will reflect 
that carnivores can not maintain 
themselves indefinitely by eating one 
another, and will look a little more 
closely, he will find plenty of the 
herbivorous forms. These are they 
whose economic function is that of 
“turning grass into flesh, in order that 
carnivorous Goths and Vandals may 
subsist also, and in their turn pro- 
claim ‘ATl flesh is grass’’’ (Coues). 
The most widespread, abundant, 
Fic. 23. Immature stages and important of the herbivores of the 


of four common neuropterous 


insects: a, adragon-fly (Anax 4 
insects: a, @ dragon-fy (ange stream are apt to be the scuds (Fig. 


(Amphiagrion amphion); ¢,a 20), the may-fly nymphs (Fig. 23, d), 


stone-fly (Acroneuria sp?); 
d,amay-fly (Callibetis sp?). and the larvee of midges (Fig. 24,d). 


Study 4. The Farm Stream 


This study assumes that there is accessible some creek, or 
large brook or small river, having rapids and shoals and pools 
and reed-grown bays in it, all easy of access. If the banks 
where the work is to be done are too soft, rubber boots for 
wading, or temporary walks that will make wading unneces- 
sary, will have to be provided. Each student should be pro- 
vided with a dip-net for catching specimens, a shallow dish in 
which to examine them, a lifter with which to transfer them, 
and a few vials in which small specimens may be examined 
with a lens. 

A normal condition of the stream is necessary; high water 
and great turbidity will render the work unsatisfactory. 


Program—Go over the area marked for examination, begin- 
ning with the pools having mud bottom, and proceeding to 


THE FARM STREAM 


the rapids. Note the 
extent of mud, sand, 
gravel, rubble, and flat- 
stone bottom, and their 
relation to slope and cur- 
rent. Note also the 
physical conditions that 
organisms have to meet 
in each situation. 
Collect and examine 
the commoner plants 
and animals, first of the 


43 


Fic. 24. Thelarvae of four two-winged 
flies (Diplera): a, the swale-fly (Sepedon), 
withdrawing beneath the surface film of the 
water; 6, the punkie (Ceratopogon); c, the 
phantom midge larva (Corethra); and d, the 
common midge (Chironomus). 


rapids and then of the still water, omitting the fishes, 
(except to note where they are seen.) 


The Record of this study will consist of: 
I. A map, on which are indicated as clearly as possible: 


Bw NH 


The fish pools. 


Waterfalls and riffles. 
The extent of each sort of bottom. 
The principal plant beds. 


II. List of all the water plants observed, arranged in a 
table with column headings as follows: 

Name (this will be supplied by the instructor). 

Grows where (thatis, in which of the situations examined). 


Depth of water (approximate). 
Growth-habit (simpleor branched, erect or trailing, stem- 


less, leafless, etc.). 


Remarks. 


III. List of all the water animals observed, arranged in a 
table with column headings as follows: 
Name (this will be supplied by instructor, if needed). 
Lives where (in which of the situations examined). 


44 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


At what depth (approximate). 

Eats what (your own specific observations rather than 
general data taken from table). 

Habits of locomotion (walking, swimming, looping, etc.). 

Remarks. 


IV. A summary and comparison of the chief differences 
between the several situations, and of the differences in 
abundance and kind of plant and animal inhabitants. 


Fic. 25. A-stream map, such as 
will serve as a basis for the work 
herewith outlined. 


Cascaditla 


Pond 
0% 


Arboretum 


taataur vaterpales ft 
scale 1 image ft 


and animals 


List the plants 
studied on a separate sheet, with 
data as indicated on pp. 43 and 44. 


Indicate diagrammatically on this 


map: 


1. The waterfalls and riffles. 
rubble, 


2. The areas of rock, 
gravel and mud bottom. 
water-plant ~ 


3. The principal 
formations. 
The haunts of the commoner 


4. 
fishes, 


V. THE FISHES OF THE FARM STREAM 


“To dangle your legs where the fishing is good 
Can't you arrange to come down?” 
—Riley (To the Judge). 

Before the days of husbandry, man’s supply of animal food 
consisted of fish and game. Edible things found running on 
land were game: if found in the water, they were fish. So 
we have the names shellfish, crawfish, cuttlefish, etc., still 
applied to things that are not fishes at all. The true fishes 
were, and probably always will be, the chief staple crop of the 
water. 

While waters were plenty and men were few, fishes fur- 
nished the most constant and dependable supply of animal 
food. The streams teemed with them. There were many 
kinds. They were easily procured. Before there were 
utensils, fishes were spitted over an open fire, or roasted in 
the coals. But ancient and important as the fish supply has 
been to us, we have not taken measures adequate to its 
preservation. We have cared for the crops of the field and the 


s Per torad 
iN 
\ 


ANY 


Fic. 26. Diagram of a fish (the black bass) with the fins named on the diagram: 
ventral fin is also called pelvic. Drawing by Miss Dorothy Curtis. 


46 


FISHES OF THE FARM STREAM 47 


Fic. 27. The common bullhead. A race of short-horned bullheads 
is much to be desired. 

garden, and have neglected most of the others. The back- 
ward state of fish culture among us may be expressed by 
saying that we have developed no means of growing natural 
forage for fishes or of managing them in ordinary waters in 
pure cultures under control, and we have hardly any valuable 
cultural varieties. 

Many of our wild fishes, however, are excellent: the 
basses, and the perches, and the catfishes, forexample. And 
for the most part they are very hardy and are widely distrib- 
uted in our inland waters. If the fish fauna of any con- 
siderable stream be carefully explored, doubtless a number 
‘of good, bad, and indifferent kinds of fishes will be found. 
Bullheads and sunfishes are nearly everywhere in permanent 
fresh water; and what excellent materials for selection they 
offer! True, the bullheads are nearly all head and horns, but 
what flesh they have is excellent quality. What we need is 
to develop a race of shorthorns among them. If such im- 
provement of them were made by selection and care as has 
been made with cattle and hogs, what fine table fishes we 
should have; and everybody might have them in his own 
water garden. 

Fishes are the dominant animal forms in all fresh waters: 
in powers of locomotion they surpass all other aquatic 
creatures. Their fighting powers are good. Consequently 
we find them in full possession of the open waters, while most 


48 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Fic. 28. The pike. 


other dwellers in the stream are restricted to the shoals and 
to the shelter of rocks or of vegetation. Certain of them like 
the pike (fig. 28) are specialized for feeding at the surface: 
others, like the sucker (fig. 29), for feeding at the bottom; 
and the mouth is turned up or down accordingly. The best 
of them are carnivorous and eat habitually other smaller 
fishes. The rock bass seems to prefer crawfishes as food. 
Most of them eat the larve of may-flies and midges, though 
the pikes demand bigger game. The sheepshead eats mol- 
luscs, crushing the shells with its flat-topped molarlike teeth. 

Fishes are among the most beautiful of living things. 
Their colors are splendid. Their motions are all easy and 
graceful. Their habits are most interesting and varied. 
Nearly all the common forms are included in six or seven 
families: the catfishes, the trouts, the pikes (including the 
pickerel), the suckers, the minnows (including the huge carp), 
the perches, and the sunfishes (including the basses). It is the 
purpose of the following study to promote acquaintance with 
some of these. 


Study 5. Creek Fishes 


A representative lot of a dozen or more of the larger com- 
mon fishes should be available for this exercise. It were 
better to have most of them collected in advance and kept 
alive for examination. A seine may be drawn, or traps taken 
up, as a part of the exercise, but often there are uncertainties 


FISHES OF THE FARM STREAM 49 


as to the catch, which are to be avoided. The living fishes 
may be displayed in aquaria set up on high benches, or the 
fishes may be strung singly to stakes in the shore and drawn 
forth for examination. 

The program will consist (1) in whatever fishing is made a 
part of the class exercise; (2) then in a careful examination of 
the fishes of each species and a writing of their recognition 
characters in a table prepared after the manner indicated on 
pages 50 and 51. 

The record of this study will consist in the completed table, 
together with notes on the places where each species was 
taken and the method of its capture. 


Fig. 29. The sucker. 


59 


RECOGNITION CHARACTERS 


Size 
NAME 
Length! 


Ratio? 


Form? 


Scales4 Mouth® 


*Length (when grown) in inches. 
3 Cylindrical, depressed, or compressed, 
3 Large or small, terminal or inferior. 


? Ratio of depth to length. 
4Large or small or wanting. 


OF CASCADILLA FISHES 


51 


FINS 


Dorsalé 


Caudal 


Pelvic” 


REMARKS 


6 Diagram side view. 


7 Thoracic or abdominal. 


VI. PASTURE PLANTS 


“Thou crownest the year with thy goodness; and thy paths drop fatness. 
They drop upon the pastures of the wilderness: and the little hills 
rejoice on every side. : 
The pastures are clothed with flocks; the valleys also are covered over 
with corn; they shout for joy, they also sing.” 
—A Psalm of David (Psalm 65:11-13). 


Before there were tilled fields, there were green pastures. 
The grazing animals made them. They cropped the tall 
vegetation and trampled the succulent herbage, and pasture 
grasses sprang up and flourished in their stead. Wherever 
there were pieces of level ground frequented by wild cattle, 
there pastures developed. 

Pasture plants have seeds that are readily carried about and 
distributed by the muddy feet of cattle. They also have 
good staying qualities: once rooted in the soil, they will live 
long even where they can grow but little. So we find them 
growing everywhere, flourishing in the light, hanging on in the 
shadow, as if waiting for a chance—even in the deep shadow 
of the woods. Cut down the trees, and the grasses appear. 
Keep all the taller plants cut down, and the grasses spread and 
form a meadow. Brush-covered hills are sometimes changed 
into pastures simply by cutting them clean and turning in 

~sheep. More sheep are kept on them than can find good 
forage; so, they are reduced to eating every green thing. It 
is hard on the sheep, but the grasses, relieved of the competi- 
tion of the taller plants, spread in spite of very close cropping. 
After two or three seasons, the hills are turf-covered: the 
woody plants are gone. This is a crude method of pasture 
making, and one that is coming to be practiced in our day 
more often with goats than with sheep, goats having a wider 
range of diet; but it illustrates some fundamental condi- 


52 


PASTURE PLANTS 53 


tions. Keep almost any weed patch mown, and it soon 
will be grass-covered. 

The valuable pasture plants are all low-growing perennials, 
that spread over or through the soil and take root widely, 
and that are uninjured by the removal of their tops. Where- 
fore, an amount of browsing and trampling thatis sufficient to 
destroy their competitors, leaves them uninjured and in 
possession of the soil. We raise some of these pasture grasses 
on our lawns.. We crop them with a lawn mower to make 
them spread, and we compress the soil about them with a 
heavy roller, and a turf results. But these operations are 
performed in nature by means of muzzles and hoofs. 

If you would understand the conditions pasture plants have 
to meet you can hardly do better than to cultivate friendly 
relations with some gentle old cow, and follow her awhile 
about the pasture watching the action of her muzzle and 
hoofs. Watch her crop the grass. See how she closes on it, 
and swings forward and upward, drawing it taut across the 
edges of her incisors (these being in her lower jaw). Hear 
the grass break at the joints, and tear and squeak as inter- 
nodes are withdrawn from their sheaths. Then pull some 
grass by hand, and observe that while single leaves may break 
anywhere, the stems for the most part break at the joints, 
which are so formed that little injury to the plant results. 
The parts necessary for re-growth remain attached to the 
soil and uninjured. Then try the tops of any common garden 
weeds, and observe that, for the most part, they pull bodily, 
out of the ground. Herein appears one of the characteristics 
of good pasture plants: they must be able to withstand 
cropping—even close cropping. 

Then watch the old cow’s hoofs as she walks about over the 
turf. See how they spread when she steps in a soft place. 
Look at her tracks and see how the sharp edges of her hoofs 
have divided the turf and spread the roots and underground 


54 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


stems of the grass asunder. If broken, take up the pieces and 
observe that each is provided with its own roots. Thus, a 
moderate amount of trampling only serves to push the grasses 
into new territory. Think how disastrous in comparison 
would be the descent of this bovine’s hoofs upon the balsams 
and cabbages of the garden. 

So, the chief perils to plants 
in the pasture are of three sorts. 
The danger of death from being 
eaten, from being pulled up and 
from being trampled. To be sure, 
both browsing and trampling may 
easily be overdone, and the hardi- 
est of plants may be exterminated. 
This occurs in the places where 
the herds habitually stand in the 
shade of trees. Furthermore, 
mere hardiness will not qualify a 
plant to be a good member of 
the pasture society. The first 
requisite of all is that it shall be 
palatable and nutritious. The 
little wire rush (Fig. 30) is among 
the hardiest of pasture plants, 
growing habitually in the very 
edges of the path, but it is 
well nigh worthless as forage. 

Siar iyi ele laa The most valuable plants for 
permanent pastures are all grasses. 

Indeed, the very best of them are native grasses that exist 
today just as they came to us from the hand. of nature. 
The only selection that has been practiced on them is the 
natural selection that through long ages has eliminated such 
sorts as are not equipped to meet the requirements set. 


PASTURE PLANTS 55 


Under certain conditions white clover and some other 
plants are useful members of permanent sod. 

There are many other plants in the pasture, which wecon- 
sider undesirable there, and hence call weeds. They mostly 
produce abundant seed and have excellent means of giving it 
wide dispersal. Many seeds find openings among the grasses. 


Fic. 31. Blue-grass (a) and timothy (6): flowering spikes and roots; 
Me the two modes of producing new shoots underground shown 
at (c). 


A few of these plants survive by virtue of the same qualities 
that save the grasses. Some like the thistles and the teasel 
are spiny, and able to ward off destroyers. Many, like the 
mullein, the buttercup, the daisy and the yarrow, are un- 
palatable and are not sought by the cattle. Many grow well 
underground with only their leaves exposed to danger of 
trampling. If someleaves are cut off, new ones will promptly 
grow. Then, after a long season of growth, they suddenly 
shoot up flower stalks into the air, and quickly mature fruit. 
They do this, too, at the season of abundant grasses, when 
their exposed shoots are least endangered by close cropping. 
Some, like the dandelions and the plantains, produce so many 
flower stalks that they can survive the loss of some of them. 
Finally there are some, like the speedwells and the chick- 
weeds, so small that they are inconsequential. They merely 
fillthe chinks between the others. 


56 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


There is one tree that regularly invades our neglected 
pastures. Itis the hawthorn. The cattle browse on it, but 
they leave a remnant of new growth every year. So its 
increase is very slow until it gets beyond their reach—slow 
but sure. All the while its dense cone of stubs is shaped 
smoothly as ina lathe. But once emancipated from their 
browsing, it suddenly expands upward into the normal 
form of the spreading hawthorn tree. 


Study 6. Pasture Plants 


Any old pasture will do for this: the more neglected, the 
more interesting its population is likely to be. The equip- 
ment needed is merely something to dig with. Let all the 
work be done individually. 

The program of work will consist in digging up one by one, 
first the forage plants andthen the weeds, andexamining them, 
root and branch. Give special study to the forage plants— 
the grasses and the clovers. Dig them up and pull them up. 
Find their predetermined breaking points. Observe their 
mode of spreading through the soil. Trample them, espec- 
ially with the heels of your shoes. Observe their preparedness 
for the rooting of dismembered parts. Observe in the weeds 
also the various waysin which they avoid being pulled up or 
eaten or trampled out of existence. Also stake out a square 
yard of typical pasture and take a census of its plant popula- 
tion. 

The record of this study will consist in: 

1. Annotated lists of: 

(a) Forage plants. 

(b) Weeds (further classified if desired), with indica- 
tions of size, duration (whether annual, bien- 
nial, or perennial), mode of seed dispersal 
(whether by wind or water or carried by ani- 
mals on their feet or in their wool). Vegetative 


~ 


PASTURE PLANTS 57 


modes of increase, such as stolons, runners, off- 
sets, suckers, etc.; noting also special fitness 
for pasture conditions, as indicated above. 


2. Diagram a vertical section of the soil and on it show 
form and growth-habit of half a dozen of the more typical 
pasture plants, such as the following: 

(a) A grass that spreads by underground branches, 
like a bluegrass. 

(b) A bulbous grass, like timothy. 

(c) A creeping plant, rooting along the branches, like 
white clover. 

(d) A rosette-forming, tall, single-stemmed biennial, 
like teasel or dock. 

(e) A rosette-forming, tap-rooted dwarf, like dande- 
lion. 

(f) A fibrous-rooted perennial, like the daisy, or but- 
tercup, or yarrow. 


3. A complete census of the plant population of a single 
square yard of old pasture: names of plants and numbers of 
individuals. It will be necessary to state how you have 
counted individuals of the multiple-rooted forms. 


THE EDIBLE WILD ROOTS OF THE FARM 


“The sunshine floods the fertile fields 

Where shining seeds are sown, 

And lo, a miracle is wrought; 
For plants with leaves wind-blown, 

By magic of the sunbeam’s touch 
Take from the rain and dew 

And earth and air, the things of life 
To mingle them anew, 

And store them safe in guarding earth 
To meet man’s hunger-need. 


VII. 


Then lo, the wonder grows complete; 
The germ within the seed 
Becomes a sermon or a song, 
A kiss or kindly deed.”’ 
—Dean Albert W. Smith. 


Nature sometimes caches her stores of provisions—hides 
them underground. She puts them up in mold-proof 
packages, and stows them away in the earth, where, protected 
from sudden changes of temperature, they keep for along 
time. It is chiefly a few of the mammals that are the reci- 
-pients of this bounty—those that can 

burrow in the soil and those that can 
root. The burrowers are numerous, 
and of very different sorts. They all 
have stout claws on their fore feet. 
£ The rooters are few: only the pigs and 
their nearest allies. These have a most. 


Fic. 32. Nature’s most 


efficient implement of 
tillage. But, alas! a 
little bit of metal ring 
thrust into the sensitive 
base of the “rooter’’ 
renders this beautiful 
contrivanceinoperative, 
reduces the efficiency of 
his pigship to the com- 
mon level of mamma- 
lian kind, and leaves 

. him endowed only with 
his appetite. 


unique and beautiful digging apparatus, 
happily placed on the end of the nose, 
where it is backed by all the pushing 
power of a stout body, and where it is 
directed in its operations by the aid of 
very keen olfactories. This is a most 
efficient equipment for digging. If any- 
58 


THE EDIBLE WILD ROOTS OF THE FARM 59 


thing good to eat is buried in the earth, trust to a normal 
pig to find it. The wild ruminants also dig to a certain 
extent with the hoofs of their fore feet. 

Digging for roots has been in all ages an important and 
necessary occupation of mankind. Once it was done by 
everybody. For ages it was the work of women, while men, 
in the division of labor, assumed themore dangerousand more 
exciting tasks of hunting and fighting. Now it is coming to 
be the work of machinery, handled by men. Once all the 
roots were wild roots, and they were used in very great 
variety. Nowcomparatively few, which have been selected 
and improved, are cultivated. The majority of those that 
have served as human food are neglected. But they may 
still be found in the wildwood. Nature made them hardy and 
fit. They are still with us unimproved—and unsubdued. 

These roots, which are nature’s underground food stores, 
are, many of them, botanically speaking, not true roots at all: 
they are merely the underground parts of plants, that have 
been developed as food reserves: and they are primarily for 
the benefit of the plant species producing them. They are 
the products of the growth of one season, stored up to be used 
in promoting the growth of new individuals the next season. 
Some, like the potato and other tubers, are modified under- 
ground stems; others, like the onion, are bulbs. They con- 
tain food products far more watery and less concentrated 
than the nuts and the grains. Their flavors are less choice 
than those of the fruits; they are of the earth, earthy. There 
are few of them that we consider palatable without cooking. 
Many abound in starch, like the potato, and some, in sugar, 
like certain beets. 

Of true roots that are fleshy, there are many to be found 
wild, but few of these are edible. The wild carrots and 
parsnips are insignificant as compared with cultivated 
varieties: the fleshy roots of weeds like the docks are 


60 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


inedible, and a few like the water 
hemlock (Fig. 33) are very poison- 
ous. All the cultivated sorts, radishes, 
beets, turnips, carrots, parsnips, chicory, 
etc., are natives of the old world. The 
last named, where cultivated, is chiefly 
used to make an adulterant for coffee, 
and has scarcely any nutritive 
value. 

American tubers are much more 
valuable. Indeed, the most valuable 
root crop in the world is the potato. rFic.33. The poison hem- 
The potato crop stands among our (ck. Portions pr Riwer 
crops second only to the wheat crop 
in cash value. And an acre of potatoes may produce as 
much human food as ten acres of wheat. The only other 
native tuber that is extensively cultivated is that of the arti- 
choke (Helianthus tuberosus) which maintains itself 
wild in great patches in many a rich bottomland thicket. 
The artichoke is able to win out over the other herbaceous 
perennials by reason of its sheer vegetative vigor: it over- 
tops them all and gets the sunlight. And when it blooms, it 
overspreads the thicket with a blaze of yellow sunflowers in 
late summer. There is another native tuber, however, of 
great promise: it has higher nutritive value than the potato 
and is very palatable; it is the so-calledgroundnut (Apios 
tuberosa). The plant is a vine, that grows in moist thickets 
and clambers over low bushes. It bears brownish purple, 
violet-scented, papilionaceous flowers in dense clustersin mid- 
summer. The tubers are borne on slender underground 
stems, often a number in a row, and are roundish or pear- 
shaped, very solid, and when cut, exude a milky juice, like a 
sweet potato. Doubtless, this valuable plant, which furnished 
the Indians with a dependable part of their living, 


THE EDIBLE WILD ROOTS OF THE FARM 61 


would have received more attention among us had it been 
adapted by nature to ordinary field conditions. But it grows 
in moist or even wet soil and in partial shade. The 
Indian cucumber-root (Fig. 34) bears another sort of tuber 
that might well qualify it for a place among our salad 
plants, were the plant adapted to fields; but it grows in 
leaf mold in the shade of dense thickets. 

The wild bulbs of the scaly sort that are edible, are the wild 
onion and a few of its relatives, the wild leeks and garlics. 
These are valued not for nutritive value, but for flavoring. 
Here, again, the cultivated exotic varieties are superior to 
the wild native ones. 

There are a number of interesting 
wild aroids, producing solid bulbs or 
corms, which were food for the red 
man, but which we do not use. They 
grow mostly in wet soil. They are the 
arrow arum, the skunk cabbage, the 
Jack-in-the-pulpit, etc. The related 
taro is a valuable food plant in the 
Hawaiian Islands and throughout the 
South Seas. Like these, it is somewhat 
coarse, and does not keep well after 
gathering. So it gets into our markets 
only after being dried and ground into 
flour. The fierce acridity of the Jack-in- 
the-pulpit, which renders it inedible 
when raw, is entirely removed by cook- 

\\ ing. 
: Among the aroids is another that is 
Oe oe Mitedeots), aa worthy to be mentioned not as a food 
excellent salad plant. —_Jant, but as one that has been valued 
for its pungency, and for the magic powers widely believed to 
inhere in its root. It is the sweet flag (Acorus calamus, 


62 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Fig. 16,0); its charmed product, “‘calamus root.”’ Dried it is 
often nibbled by school children, and it is candied by their 
mothers, especially in New England, and served as a condi- 
ment. 

There area number of other native ‘‘roots’’ of semi-aquatic 
plants that were eaten by the aborigines. The biggest “‘root”’ 
of all was the rhizome of the 
spatter-dock—-several feet long 
and often six inches thick, 
coarse and spongy, and full 
of starch. The rootstocks of 
the lotus and of several other 
members of the water-lily fam- 
ily are edible; also, the sub- 
terranean offsets of the cat- 
tail. These were and are fa- 
Fic. 35. A portion of a vine of the VOrite foods of the muskrat, 

Hoe peagus, Deseing boik Hower en vag. ‘The ged man ate also 

the rootstocks of the arrow- 
head and the underground stems of the false Solomon’s 
seal. Then if we count the exotic, cultivated peanut in its 
pod a root crop, we shall have to count the native hog 
peanut (Amphicarpea monoica, Fig. 36), with its more 
fleshy and root-like subterranean pod, also as one. 

Itisamost interesting plant. It grows as a slender twining 
vine on low bushes in the edges of thickets. It produces pale 
blue flowers in racemes along the upper part of the stem, 
followed by small, beanlike pods. It de- 
velops also scattered, colorless, self-fertil- 
zing flowers on short branches at the sur- 
face of the soil. These are very fertile. 
They push into the soil and produce there 
mostly one-seeded, roundish, fleshy pods Fic. 36. The root 
about half an inch in diameter. These cobaed nate Of 

the hog peanut. 
are the hog peanuts. 


THE EDIBLE WILD ROOTS OF THE FARM 63 


So, if we go out to examine the plants producing nature’s 
root crops, we shall find them a mixed lot of solanums, 
legumes, aroids, etc., growing in all kinds of situations, wet 
and dry, in sun and in shade, and producing food reserves 
that have little in common either in character or in content. 


Study 7. Wild Root Crops of the Farm 


This study will consist in an examination of the edible 
and the poisonous roots found growing wild on the farm. 
Such exotics as parsnip, carrot and chicory will oe found 
growing as weeds in the field. The native root crops will 
have to be sought in the woods and thickets and in swampy 
places. , 

The equipment needed will be a knife, a bag and a stout 
digging tool of some sort. 

The program of work will consist of a trip to selected places 
where the wild roots may be foundin abundance, the examina- 
tion of them one by one as to all their parts, measuring of the 
roots, slicing of them, tasting of them, testing of them, etc., 
_and recording their characters. 


The record will consist of: 

1. A table prepared with headings as indicated on pages 
64 and 65 and carefully filled out for about a dozen species. 

2. Simple sectional diagrams representing the structure of 
(1) some wild tuber; (2) a scaly bulb; (3) a solid bulb or 
corm; (4) a fleshy rhizome; and (5) a true fleshy root. 


— uta io rey Hora 


Fic. 37. Apios Tuberosa. (Drawn by C. P. Alexander) 


64 


EDIBLE WILD ROOTS 


NAME Kind of Plant? 


Grows 
Where 


Nature of 
“Root”? 


*Tree, shrub, herb. vine, etc., aquatic, climbing, etc. 


?Root, tuber, bulb, corm, rhizome, offset, etc. 


OF THE FARM 


65 


Form? and 
Size 


Qualities 


Uses Remarks 


3 Diagram. 


4Length X width in mm. 


VIII. THE NOVEMBER SEED-CROP 


“Tis all a myth that Autumn grieves 
For, list the wind among the sheaves; 
Far sweeter than the breath of May.” 


—Samuel M. Peck (Autumn's Mirth). 


November, in our latitude, is nature’s season of plenty. 
Her work of crop production is done. Living is easy for all 
her creatures. The improvident may have their choice of 
fruits, or may eat only of the seeds that are best liked and 
most easily gathered. The frugal and foresighted may 
gather winter stores. It was no mere arbitrary impulse of 
our Puritan pioneers that settled upon November as the 
season of special Thanksgiving. 

Nature’s prodigality of seed production is for the benefit of 
her animal population. She gives them the excess. They in 
their turn are very wasteful in their handling of the seed. 
They never eat all that they gather, but scatter andlose some 
of it in places favorable for growth next season. Thus they 
aid in distributing and in planting theseed. Thesleek and 
surfeited meadow mice scatter grains along their runways 
and never find them again, and these lost seeds are favorably 
situated for growth at the proper season. It is only a 
remnant of them that will escape the more careful search 
of the beasts when the hunger of the lean season is on, but so 
great is the excess of production, that this remnant is, in the 
nice balance of nature, sufficient to keep the species going. 

It is a long, lean season that follows on November in our 
latitude, and the seed-crop, though abundant, isnot sufficient 
to feed all the wild animal population. So nature takes 
various measures to eke it out. She puts to sleep in hiberna- 
tion the great majority of animals. These include nearly all 

66 


THE NOVEMBER SEED-CROP 67 


of the lesser animals and a few even of the larger ones, like 
the woodchuck, now fat and drowsy. She removes the greater 
number of the birds by migration to feed in summer climes. 
There remain to be fed through the winter only a small pro- 
portion of the birds and a larger proportion of the mammals, 
including ourselves. All these are by nature improvident— 
given to eating to excess when there is plenty,. forgetting 
future needs. So, she makes it impossible that any lusty 
foragers, or all of them put together, shall be able to dissipate 
and waste her patrimony. She keeps it in a considerable part 
from them against the hour of need. If she grows luscious 
fruits which, when ripe, will fall into their mouths she, also 
grows roots underground, and imposes the labor of digging to 
get them. If some of her seeds ripen all at once and fall 
readily, others ripen at intervals, and are held tightly in their 
husks. It takes labor to get them. The animals that eat in 
winter have to work their way. 

Nature’s population is suited to her 
: y, > products. Her seed-eating rodents 
Bolan, -are all armed with stout chisellike 

=P teeth, adapted for cutting anything, 

é es from the nutshells to chaff. Her seed- 

i eating birds are armed with stout, 

@ < seed-cracking, husk-opening beaks. 

: << Her little birds are agile, and can 

: cling with their feet to swaying twigs, 

rie ching apparatus; 2, and ravage the loaded seed-cones 

pe feos Horupine: pendent upon them. The beaks of 

£: the Deak tease. the crossbills are especially adapted to 

ing the seeds of pine extracting the seeds from the cones of 
our evergreen trees. 

The seeds we cultivate for food are cereals and lentils. 

With the exception of maize they came with our ancestors 

from other climes. Some of the native cereals have heavier 


68 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


seeds, but we have not learned their culture. We have been 
satisfied with the grains and pulse of ouragricultural tradition. 
Wild rice is marketed locally at fancy prices; but it is still 
wild rice, gathered where nature produces it in the old way. 
There is no culture of it worthy of the name. 

The cereals are mainly the edible seeds of grasses (Grami- 
neae): the seeds of sedges (Cyperaceae), if edible, should 
perhaps be included; and there is one seed of very different 
botanical character, the buckwheat, a member of the joint- 
weed family (Polygonaceae), commonly rated a cereal. We 
can find wild seeds of all these groups growing about us, some 
of them of good size and quality, but most of them far too 
small to be of possible value to us. The lentils are all mem- 
bers of the pulse family (Leguminosae), and their more or 
less beanlike seeds grow in two-valved pods. A few sorts of 
these protein-rich seeds will be found hanging in autumn. So 
great is the diversity according to climate, situation, and 
locality, that it is not possible to indicate what sorts of seeds 
are to -be expected. 

Besides the cereals and lentils there are other wild seeds, 
allied to those we cultivate, for minor uses: for their flavors, 
for the oils they contain, for their medicinal properties, etc. 
And there are many others that are of interest to us solely on 
account of the very special ways in which they contribute to 
the preservation of the species, by providing for their own 
dispersal. Some are armed with hooksor barbs that catchin 
the wool of animals (as indeed they do also in our own cloth- 
ing), and thus they steal a ride, which may end in some new 
and unoccupied locality. These grow at low elevations—not 
higher than the backs of the larger quadrupeds. Some light- 
weight seeds develop soaring hairs, which catch the wind and 
by it are carried about. Some of the larger dry seeds of trees 
develop parachutes by means of which they are able to glide 
to a considerable distance from the place in which they grow. 


THE NOVEMBER SEED-CROP 69 


Some take aride by water, and to aid their 
navigation, develop water-repellant seed- 
coats, boat-shaped forms, corky floats, etc. 
Finally, some develop automatic ejectors 
like the capsules of the touch-me-not or 
jewel-weed, which collapse with explosive 
violence; or like the close-pinching hulls 
Fic. 89. Two''seeds’ Of witch-hazel, which shoot out the seeds 

that often steal a a 

ride with us: a, toadistanceof several yards. But most 

chaale b piteutoris seeds are featureless, as regards means of 

iia dispersal. They merely fall, singly or in 
clusters, and are moved about only with the chance 
removal of the soil with which they mix. 

Among the curious devices for securing the aid of amimals 
in seed-distribution none are more curious and interesting 
than those shown by the common umbelwort known as 
sweet cicely. The seeds (in their containers) are suspended 
in pairs at the end of two slender stalks, their sharp points 
directed downward, close to the stem. There are blunter 
points directed outward, but the barbs all over the surface 
appear to be directed the wrong way, as if to prevent getting 
caught in wool. But when a furry coat pushes against 
the outer end of a pair of these seeds, the blunt ends aided 
by the opposing barbs catch just deeply enough to turn the 
seeds end for end: in such position the long points enter 
deeply, the barbs hold securely and the attachment at the 
tip of the slender stalks is readily broken. This device needs, 
but to be seen in use to be appreciated. 

Of wild seeds there is no end. It should be the object of 
the following study to survey a small area to find the wild 
allies of our cultivated seed crops, to observe the differences 
in size and containers, and, form the means of dispersal of 
as many as possible of the others. 


< 


‘a 
LOX = 


LL, 
SS 


SS 


PRES 


79 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


NoteE:—In this book we speak of seeds not in the botanical sense 
of the term, but in the sense of it as used by the seedsman, and as 
understood by the general public. What we call seeds may, therefore, 
be true seeds (ripened ovules) like beans, or dry fruits (ripened pistils) 
like pitchforks (fig. 39), or dry fruits in their husks like oats. 


Study 8. The November Seed-Crop 


The program of this study will cover the exploration of a 
small area well overgrown with herbage. The variety of 
forms found will be greater if diverse situations, wet and dry, 
in sun and in shade, are included. Collect seeds of all kinds 
as encountered (omitting fleshy fruits and nuts), and note 
what sort of plant produces each kind. It will be well to 
take specimens of the seeds in their containers for closer 
examination at home. 

The apparatus needed, besides knife and lens, will be a 
supply of envelopes, large and small, to hold the specimens 
collected, with names and data. 

The record of this study will consist of annotated and illus- 
trated lists of the seeds examined, arranged under as many 
categories as desired, such as: Cereals, Lentils, Seeds with 
hairs for air-drifting, etc. Let the list include such data as, 
kind of plant, size of seed (give measurements in millimeters: 
if very small, lay enough seeds, in line and touching each 
other, upon a metric rule—such as Fig. 1 on p. 12—to reach 
one centimeter, and divide for average diameter), characters 
affecting dispersal, characters of hull affecting its release, 
animals observed to feed upon it or to live within it, etc. 
Let the illustrations be simple outline sketches. As to 
names, if you do not know them, save time by asking an 
instructor or someone who does know them. 


Ix. THE DECIDUOUS TREES IN WINTER 


“Yet lower bows the storm. The leafless trees 
Lash their lithe limbs, and with majestic voice 
Call to each other through the deepening gloom.” 
—J. G. Holland (Bitter-sweet). 


Largest of living things, and longest of life are the trees. 
They have dominated the life of the greater part of the 
habitable earth by the sheer vigor of their growth. They 
have gone far toward making the world a fit place for us to 
live in. Our ancestors were woodsmen. The forests pro- 
vided them homes and shelter and food. The plants we now 
raise in fields, and the animals we keep in stock pens, they 
found growing or running wild in and about the borders of 
the woods. The pioneers of our race in America were 
woodsmen. When they entered the states of the upper 
Mississippi Valley, they passed by the rich prairies and 
settled in the less fertile lands of the wooded hills. They 
wanted fuel and shelter and water. They sought for trees 
and springs: finding these, they trusted to find with them 
all else needful for a living. 

The trees themselves contributed largely of the materials 
needed for the beginnings of human culture. A club for a 
weapon, a sharpened stick for an instrument of tillage, a 
hollowed log for a boat, and a sheet of bark for a roof—these 
were among the earliest of the agencies employed by man in 
mollifying and bettering his environment. It is a far cry 
from these few crude tree products to the numberless manu- 
factured products of the present day. Our need of tree 
products has multiplied inordinately, but our ways of getting 
these have become circuitous. When an implement or a 
utensil of wood is placed in our hand, all shaped and polished 
and varnished, we scarcely think of the trees as its source. 


71 


72 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


The trees have not changed, but our relations with them have 
become remote. Let us renew acquaintance with a few at 
least of those that are native to our soil. Let us go out and 
stand among them, and feel, as our ancestors felt, their vigor, 
their majestic stature and their venerable age. To the 
ancients they stood as symbols of strength, of longevity, and 
of peace. Our poets love to celebrate the grace of the birch, 
the beauty of the beech, the lofty bearing of the pine and the 
rugged strength of the oak. 

In winter, when the boughs are bare and stand out sharply 
against the background of the sky, the structural character- 
istics that best distin- 
guish tree species are 
most readily seen. The 
forking and the taper 
and the grouping of the 
branches, the size and 
Fic. 40. Diagram illustrating thecharacteristics stoutness and position 

of form in some common trees: @, Lombardy a 
Beniey Us wrnibe, Tress ¢, sugar maple; d, of the twigs, that are 
obscured by summer 
foliage, are now evident. By noting such characters as these 
we may learn to recognize the trees. The woodsman, who 
learns them unconsciously, knows them as wholes, and 
knows them without analysis by the complex of characters 
they present. But most of us will have to make their 
acquaintance by careful comparison of their characters 
separately. A few suggestions to that end here follow. 

There are a few deciduous trees that are instantly recogniz- 
able in winter by their color. Such are the white birch and 
the sycamore. The former is pure white on the trunk and 
larger branches: the latter is flecked with greenish white on 
the boughs, where the outer bark is shed in patches. The 
light satiny gray of the smooth beech trunks, and the mat 
gray of the rough white oak trunks, also help, although less’ 


THE DECIDUOUS TREES IN. WINTER 73 


distinctive to an unpracticed eye. Then there are tints of 
yellow in the twigs of certain willows, and of red in the twigs 
of the red maple and in the swollen buds of the linden. 

Trees grown in the open develop a characteristic form and 
are recognizable by their general outline. Most strict and 
cylindric is the Lombardy poplar; most inclined and spread 
out upward into vaselike form is the beautiful and stately 
American elm. Most smoothly oval is the sugar maple and 
most nearly hemispherical is the apple. The soft maple and 
the hickories and many others take on an irregular 
and ragged outline. It is to be noted at once that in their 
youth these trees are all much more alike in 
form; also, that in the forest, close crowding 
reduces every kind of tree to a tall and 
slender trunk holding aloft as a crown the 
few branches that have been able to reach 
the light. 

Much more dependable recognition char- 
acters are found in the structure of the tree- 
top. The trunk may tend to form a single 
axis as in the birch, or to split up early 
into long main branches asin theelms. The 
boughs may be short and stocky asin an old 
chestnut, or long and slender as in a beech. 
The twigs may be long or short stout or slen- 
der, and in position ascending, horizontal, or 
drooping. The bark may present many 

characteristic differences on trunk and bough 
ea ro and twigs, all of which need to be seen to 


of 5 det cat: be appreciated. But most positive of all 


of buns the structural differences by which we may 


catalpa;.biack distinguish trees are some of the lesser 


chestnuti@ characters in bud and leaf scar, a few of 


kory; ¢, black Which are indicated in figure 41. The size. 


gSSPIS 


walnut. 


74 


RECOGNITION CHARACTERS OF 


NAME 


Growth 
Habit 


Bark (mature) 


Color 


Fissures? 


Surface 
Layers? 


Diam.* 


Oak, White 
Oak, Red 
Hickory? 
Chestnut 


Butternut 
Beech 
Birch? 
Maple? 
Elm» 

Ash? 
Basswood 
Sycamore 
Tulip Tree 
x 


4 


* Vertical or horizontal, simple or forking, deep or shallow, narrow or wide, etc. 
? Hard or soft, adherent or loose, shedding in strips or in bits, etc. 
3 Smallest diameter of an average twig in mm. 
9 Specify which kind. 


~ Another kind of tree of your own selection. 


75 
DECIDUOUS TREES IN WINTER 


Twigs Buds 
Other Peculiarities® 
Misc.* Color Form matase Leaf Scars” 


4 Peculiarities of form and color, lenticels, pith, etc. 

5 Sketch in simple outline. 

° Opposite or alternate. 

7 Diagram, including bundle scars and stipule scars. 

® Taste and smell, persistent leaves, nuts, fruit, stalks, ete.; also, flower, buds, 


etc. for next season. 


76 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


and structure and color of the pith will often furnish good 
characters. 

One who is learning them should employ his senses of 
touch, taste and smell as well as his sight. The toughness 
and pliancy of hickory twigs are revealed to our fingers. By 
biting twigs, distinctive flavors may be discerned in most 
twigs. Tulip tree is bitter, and sweet birch is deliciously 
aromatic. The buds of linden are mucilaginous when 
chewed. The twigs of walnut and sassafras have a smell that 
is instantly recognizable. There is no difficulty at all about 
knowing the principal kinds of trees if one will take the 
trouble to note their characteristics. 


Study 9. Recognition Characters of Deciduous Trees in 
Winter 


The object of this study is to learn to recognize a dozen or 
more common native trees. The apparatus needed by the 
student is only a lens and a knife: collective use may per- 
haps be made of an axe or a hooked pole. 


The program of work should consist of a short excursion 
among the trees, first where growing in the open, to observe 
their outlines, and later, into the woods. The species 
selected for examination will be studied as to the characters 
indicated by the column headings of the table on pages 74 
and 75. 


The record of this study will consist in: 

1. The completed tabulation. 

2. Simple outline sketches of twigs: 
(a) Of ash and birch or elm. 
(b) Longitudinal sections of walnut or butternut. 
(c) Cross sections of oak and linden. 


xX. THE FARM WOOD-LOT 


Much can they praise the trees so straight and high, 

The sailing pine; the cedar proud and tall; 

The vine-prop elm; the poplar never dry; 

The builder oak, sole king of forests all; 

The aspen good for staves; the cypress funeral; 

The laurel, meed of mighty conquerors 

And poets sage; the fir that weepeth still; 

The willow, worn of forlorn paramours; 

The yew, obedient to the bender’s will; 

The birch for shafts; the sallow for the mill; 

The myrrh sweet-bleeding in the bitter wound;- 

The warlike beech, the ash for nothing ill; 

The fruitful olive; and the platane round; 

The carver holme; the maple, seldom inward sound. 

—Spenser (Faery Queen). 
When we know the trees by sight, then we may profit by 
an inquiry as to what kind of associations they form with one 
another. The farm wood-lot will be a good place for this, 
especially if it be, as it usually is, a remnant of the original 
forest cover. We will assume a small piece of wildwood not 
too closely or too recently cut over, with small areas, at least, 
of forest cover, and with a goodly remnant of brushwood. 
There are openings even in primeval forest, where giant trees 
have fallen, letting in a flood of light. In such places the 
trees of the undergrowth lift their heads and bushes flourish 
for a few years, rearing a generation and sending forth their 
seeds before a new growth of trees of the forest cover over- 
takes and overtops them. All about the borders of the 
wood-lot will be found such a growth of lesser trees and 
shrubs, massed against the light, and backed up against the 
wall of the forest. 
Within the wood, where the larger trees are growing closely, 

their crowns touching each other, there will be found but a 
scanty growth beneath them of spindling small trees and of 


straggling shrubs. These will often show a fairly distinct 
77 


78 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


stratification of their crowns at two levels, with scattering 
low shrubs nearer to the ground. This is the way in which, 
left to themselves, each ‘‘finds its level’ and its proper 
situation. Too much interference of the axe may keep down 
some of them and may make unusual opportunities for 
others; but it does not change the nature or needs of any 
of them. 

The groupings of the trees of different kinds will be seen 
to differ obviously, according to their several modes of 
reproduction. Copses of young trees, clustered about old 
ones, will be found springing up as “‘suckers’” from the 
spreading roots of beech and choke-cherry and nanny-berry. 
Thickets composed of a mixture of tree-species spring up as 
seedlings in the place where a giant of the woods has fallen, 
leaving a good site temporarily unoccupied. In such a place 
the struggle for existence is apt to be severe. Groups of a 
few trees on a common root result from the growth of sprouts 
from stumps. Some trees, like the chestnut, when cut will 
come again unfailingly, and replanting is unnecessary for 
their maintenance. Others, like the white pine, rarely sprout 
from the base when cut down, and are renewed only from 
seed. Most trees sprout more freely if cut (or burned) 
when young. Dozens of sprouts will promptly spring from 
a healthy stump of oak or elm, but only a few of them— 
two or three or four as a rule—can grow to full stature: 
the others are gradually eliminated in the competition for 
light and standing room. The changes in composition of 
the wood-lot that follow in the wake of the ax are not so great 
as one would at first suppose; for nature, if unhindered by 
fires or by grazing, has her own ways of keeping a place for 
each of her wild species. 

Let us study the wood-lot first to see what nature is trying 
to do with it, and to find out what kinds of woody plants she 
is endeavoring to maintain there. There will be time enough 


THE FARM WOOD-LOT 79 


later to find out which of them are the best producers of 
fuels, posts and timbers, and which are the “‘weed species.” 


Study 10. An Examination of the Farm Wood-Lot 


This study presupposes sufficient acquaintance with the 
superficial characters of trees, so that the principal kinds 
may readily be recognized. A small piece of woodland not 
more than a few acres in extent, with both forest cover and 
brushwood undergrowth remaining, should be mapped out 
and the map subdivided into a number of plots. The 
boundaries of the lot andof its subdivisions should be plainly 
marked out. The accompanying diagram indicates such 
preparation for a wood-lot study made on the Cornell Univer- 
sity farm. There, the boundaries of the plots were made 
plain by white twine strung across the area at shoulder height. 
The tools needed will be a lens and a pocketknife. 


The program of this study will consist in a slow trip over 
the wood-lot, and a careful examination of its population of 
woody plants: 


1. Tosee what they are. 

2. Tosee their relative abundance. (and) 

3. Tosee what relations they bear to one another in the 
adjustment of the place. 


The record of this study will consist in: 

1. An annotated list of all the woody plants present, with 
notes on their size, relative abundance, and manner and place 
of growth. 

2. Indications on the map of the dominant kinds of trees 
and shrubs in each plat. 

3. A diagram of a vertical section of the forest cover (in 
some place to be designated by the instructor) showing a few 
characteristic plants of the several foliage strata present. 


*q] OOF = YOU! % “BOG 


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Fic. 42. A simple outline map with instructions for use in this study. 


XI. THE FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM 


“We piled with care our nightly stack 
Of wood against the chimney back,— 
The oaken log, green, huge, and thick, 
And on tts top the stout back-stick; 
The knotty fore-stick laid apart 
And filled between with curious art 
The ragged brush; then hovering near 
We watched the first red blaze appear, 
Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam 
On whitewashed wall and sagging beam, 
Until the old rude-fashioned room 


Burst flower-like into rosy bloom.” 
—Whittier (Snow-Bound). 


One of the first of the resources of nature to be brought into 
human service was fire. Lightning and other causes set wild 
fires going, and the savage following in their wake, found that 
they had done certain useful work for him. They had cut 
pieces of timber into lengths and shapes that were convenient 
to his hand. They had roasted wild roots and green fruits, 
and the flesh of wild animals overtaken, and had made them 
much more palatable. They had left piles of glowing embers 
beside which on a chill day he warmed himself. So he tooka 
hint from nature, added a few sticks to the live embers, and 
kept the fire going. Strange that no other animal has done 
this simple thing! Afterwards he found out how to start a 
fire by rubbing wooden sticks, later by striking flint on steel, 
and still later by friction matches. The wonder of the savage 
has become commonplace. 

Since cooking began, the word fireside has been synony- 
mous with home. Fire has been the indispensable agent of 
many comforts, and womankind have been the keepers of it. 
The wildwood has furnished the fuel. In the wood there is 
great variety ofit: fine twigs and coarse, and bark and splin- 
ters, all ready for use; and dead trees down, and green trees 

81 


82 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


standing, needing cutting. Fire was the cutting agent first 
employed. Trees were burned down by building fires about 
their bases, and then by similar process they were cut in 
sections. It was only for long-keeping fires that such fuel 
was needed: there was always excess of kindling-stuffs 
available for making quick fires. 

All wood will burn and give forth heat, but one who knows 
woods will not use all kinds: it is only the degenerate 


Fic. 43. Western yellow pine dismantled and ignited by lightning (U. S. 
Bureau of Forestry). 


modern, who will do that—who will go to the telephone and 
order a cord of wood without further specifications. Heavy, 
close-grained, hard woods as a rule burn more slowly and 
yield more heat than the lighter, more open-textured soft 
woods. Combustible resins vary the rate of burning, and the 
amount of heat produced: but the greatest differences in 
burning qualities are due to the amount of water present. A 
punky old log that when dry will burn like tinder, will soak up 
water like a sponge and, becoming ‘“‘water-logged,”’ will not 


FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM 83 


burn at all. The modern householder, who keeps his fuels 
under cover, can get along without knowing about woods, 
much that it was essential the savage should know. 

Building a camp fire in the rain is a task that takes one back 
again to the point where he needs to know wood fuels as 
nature furnishes them. Certain trees, like the yellow birch, 
produce the needed kindling material. Strip the loose 
“curl” from the outside bark, resin-filled and waterproof; 
shake the adherent water from it, and you can ignite it with a 
match. Go to the birch also or to the hemlock for dry 
kindling wood: the dead branches remaining on the trunks 
make the best of fagots, and are enclosedin waterproof bark. 
Splinter them and put them on the hot flame from the 
* “birch curl’’, increase their size as the heat rises, and soon you 
have a fire that will defy a moderate rain. If you want to 
get much heat out of a little fire, feed it with thick strips of 
resinous hemlock bark, or with pine knots. 

These are special materials, the presence of which often 
determines camp sites; though excellent, they are not essen- 
tial. Any ready-burning dry wood may be kindled if splin- 
tered fine enough. Skill in fire-making consists not alone in 
the selection of suitable materials. They must be gradually 
increased in size as the heat increases, but not fed larger than 
can be quickly brought to the igniting point. Air must be 
admitted to combustion as well as wood; and as the heated 
air rises, the sticks must be so placed as to admit fresh air 
freely below. It is easy to smother a nascent fire. The 
sticks must be so placed that as the centers are burned, the 
remaining portions will be fed automatically into the coals. 
It is easy to so pile the fuel that a big central flame will be 
quickly followed bya black hollow central cavity, walled in 
by excellent but unavailable fuel. A well built fire does not 
suffer sudden relapses. The qualities of a good fire are: 
(1) a rapid increase to the desired size, and (2) steady burning 
(with no great excess of heat) thereafter. 


84 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Dan Beard’s famous 
camp-fire of four pine 
knots illustrates well 
the principles of fire 
making. Each knot is 
cleft in tapering shav- 
ings, which, ignited at 
: their tips, gradually 
Fig. 14. Dan Beard’s famous fire of fou pine increase in size as the 

b, the placing and igniting of them. fire runs along them 
and the heat increases. They are set with thick ends 
upward and bases outspread, admitting air freely below. 
They are leaned against one another, and as they burn, 
they automatically come closer together. 

The ‘“‘top-fire’’ of the Adirondack woodsmen illustrates 
excellently a long-keeping fire, that is based on a discriminat- 
ing knowledge of fuel values. Figure 45a, illustrates its con- 
struction at the start. Two water-logged chunks of hemlock 
that will not burn out, serve as “‘andirons’”’ to hold up the 
sides and insure a con- 
tinuous air supply 
frombelow. A smooth 
platform of freshly cut 
yellow birch polesis laid 
upon these. The yellow 
birch, even when green, 
has good fire-keeping 
qualities. Hickory 
would serve the pur- 
pose. An ordinary fire 
is then built upon the 
top of the birch plat- { 
form by means of kind- Fic. 45. A woodsman's long-keeping ‘‘top-fire” 


: a, beginning; b, well under way and ready for 
ling and fagots and the rolling on of the side logs. 


a 


FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM 85 


rungs. As live coals form, the birch poles are burned _ 
through in the middle and fall in the midst of the coals 
and keep on burning. The extension of the fire outward 
is promoted by the upward inclination of their ends. A 
fire of this sort, properly begun, will continue to burn steadily 
through the greater part of the night, without excess of heat 
at the beginning, and without any further attention. 

A woodsman knows there are certain fuels that burn well 
enough but must be avoided in camp: hemlock, for 
example, whose confined combustion-gases explode noisily, 
throwing live coals in all directions. One does not want his 
blankets burned full of holes. And even the householder 
who sits by his fireplace should know that there are woods 
like hickory and sassafras that burn with the fragrance of 
incense; woods like sumach that crackle and sing; woods 
like knotty pitch pine that flare and sputter and run low, 
and give off flames with tints as variable and as delightful as 
their shapes are fantastic. One who has burned knots 
observantly, will never order from his fuel-dealer for an open 
fire ‘‘clear straight-grained wood,” even though he have to 
split it himself. 

It has been the wasteful American way to pile and burn the 
tree-tops in the woods for riddance of them, and then to split 
kindlingat home. Witha woodfamineat hand we ought to be 
less wasteful. Half the wood produced by a tree is in its 
branches. Some trees hold their branches long after they are 
killed by overhead shading. Others, with less resistant bark, 
drop them early and in an advanced stage of decay. Fagots 
gathered in the forest are, therefore, quite as different in their 
burning qualities as is the wood of the trunks. It should be 
the object of the following study to learn at first hand what 
these differences are. 


86 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Study 11. Fuel-woods of the Farm 


The work of this study should be conducted in the wood-lot 
or in a bit of native forest, where there is a great variety of 
woody plants, big and little, living and dead. There should 
be found a few trees fallen and rotting; a few, broken by 
storms or shattered by lightning; some, diseased by fungi or 
eaten by beetles or ants; dead snags, tunneled by wood- 
peckers; old boles tattooed by sapsuckers; sprouting 
stumps; and scattered weaklings smothered by lustier com- 
petitors—in short, the usual wildwood mixture of sorts and 
conditions. 

The tools needed will be a pocket knife and a hatchet or a 
brick-hammer to split and splinter with. The modern con- 
venience of matches will be allowed to all. A few axes and 
cross-cut saws may be taken for common use. To save the 
axes from certain abuse, chopping blocks should be provided 
in advance. 

The program of work will consist of: (1) a gathering of 
fuel stuffs from the wood-lot; and (2) a testing of them in 
fire-making. 

1. The wood-lot should first be explored for fire-making 
materials. Quick-kindling stuff will be wanted chiefly for 
this brief exercise. These are of several categories: (a) ‘dead 
and down” stuffs in the woods, the result of nature’s pruning 
and thinning. Nature has placed good fire-making materials 
handy. As you collect, observe what kinds of trees hold their 
dead branches longest and preserve them most free from 
decay. If there are shattered trunks within reach, knock off 
the shattered ends and try them for kindling. Compare 
splintering with chopping as a means of preparing kindling- 
stuff from dry softwood. : 

(b) Resinous stuffs, such as the ‘‘curl” of the outer bark of 
the yellow birch, the bark strips from hemlock and other 
conifers, pine knots from rotted logs, etc. These will be the 


FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM 87 


more needed in the rain. If there be many kinds of materials 
available, some sort of division of labor may be arranged for 
the collecting of it. 

2. The materials gathered should be carried out to an 
open space on the lee side of the woods, and tried out in fire- 
making. Let the fires be so arranged as to secure a minimum 
of inconvenience from smoke. Each student should make a 
small fire (not over 18 inches in diameter), using one kind of 
material only. Let those more experienced at fire-making ‘ 
try more difficult materials—say green elm, for aclimax. Let 
each effort result in a fire and not asmudge: it should catch 
quickly and burn up steadily and clearly with little smoke. 
To this end materials 
should be selected of proper (pes aas) 
kind and proper size for a 
ready ignition, must be so "Site‘tor the Hockionion Oona oan 
arranged as to admit air ““%™ 
below, must “feed” inward as the center burns out and 
must not be increased in size faster than the increasing heat 
warrants. 

With the individual fires burning steadily, let observations 
be made on the readiness of ignition of other woods, green and 
dead, wet and dry, sound and punk. Different kinds of bark 
will show interesting differences in readiness of ignition. 

Demonstrations: At a common fire of larger size a num- 
ber of demonstrations may be made. 

x. The long-burning qualities of different kinds of wood 
may be roughly shown by placing pieces cut to like size and 
form on a wire rack such as is shown in figure 46, setting 
the rack upon a broad uniform bed of coals, and noting the 
time at which each piece is completely consumed. 

2. The fire-holding qualities of the same kinds of wood may 
be shown by like treatment of a similar lot up to the point of 
their complete ignition—then removing them from the fire 


88 NATURAL 


Fic. 47. Rubbing sticks for 
fire-making: a, drill-socket, 
to which pressure is applied 
with the left hand (a pine 
knot with a shallow hole in 
it will do for this); b, the 
drill, an octagonal hardwood 
stick about fifteen inches 
long; the top should work 
smoothly in the drill socket; 
¢, inelastic bow for rotating 
drill. It is moved horizont- 
ally back and forth with the 
right hand; itscord, d,isa 
leather thong with enough 
slack to tightly encircle the 
drill once; e, fire board of 
dry balsam fir, or of cotton- 
wood root, or even of bass- 
wood. Observe how the 
notches are cut with sides 
flaring downward; a little pit 
to receive the point of the 
fire drill is at the apex of 
each one; IZ is a used-out 
notch; 2 is yet in use; jisa 
new unused notch. The 
rotating of the drill with 
pressure from above rubs off 
a brownish wood powder 
which falls beneath the 
notch and smokes, and then, 
with gentle fanning, ignites: 
A dry piece of punk should 
be placed beneath the notch 
to catch it, and some fine 
tinder (such as may be 
readily made by scraping 
fine, dry cedar wood) should 
be added to catch the first 
flames, 


HISTORY OF THE FARM 


and timing the disappearance first 
of flame, and then of red glow. 

3. The burning quality of the 
same kind of wood in different con- 
ditions, green'and dead, sapwood 
and heartwood; dead wood wet and 
dry, sound and punk; pieces from 
knot and from straight-grained por- 
tions, etc., may be tested as in 
paragraph 1. 

4. Ancient methods of starting a 
fire may be demonstrated in the inter- 
vals while waiting for the pieces used 
ni, 2, and 3 to burn out. With the 
apparatus shown in figure 47 any- 
one can start a fire by friction of one 
piece of wood upon another and care- 
fully nursing the first resulting spark. 
Flint and steel and tinder may also 
be tried. 

5. Some interesting peculiarities 
of certain woods may be shown at a 
common fire: 

(a) By having green chunks 
burning at one end, the liquids in 
the wood may be made visible. 
Green elm will exude water at the 
other end; red maple will froth; 
hickory will exude a very limited 
quantity of delicious “hickory honey.” 


(b) By burning pieces of chestnut, sumach, etc., the crack- 
ling of woods may be demonstrated; also the ember-throw- 


ing habit of hemlock. 


A shower of sparks may be had by 


throwing on green and leafy boughs of hemlock and balsam. 


FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM 89 


The record of this study will consist in: 


1. An annotated list of the kindling woods found, with 
notes on their occurrence, natural characters, and burning 
qualities. Names, if needed, will be furnished by instruc- 
tors. 

2. Asketch showing your own preferred construction of a 
fire, with pieces properly graded in size for ready ignition, and 
properly placed for admission of air. 

3. A brief statement of the results of the demonstrations 
made at the common fire. 


XII. WINTER VERDURE OF THE FARM 


“The damsel donned her kirtle sheen; 
The hall was dressed with holly green; 
Forth to the wood did merry-men go 
To gather in the mistletoe.” 


—Walter Scott (Marmion). 

In winter when the fields are brown, the pastures deserted, 
the birds flown, and the deciduous trees stark as though dead, 
the evergreens preserve for us the chief signs of life in the 
out-of-doors. They mollify the bleakness of the landscape. 
So we cover with them the bleakest slopes, we line them up 
for windbreaks, and we plant them cosily about our homes. 

Nature has used the larger coniferous evergreens on a 
grand scale, covering vast areas of the earth with them and 
developing a whole population to dwell among them. Two 
species of pine have been among the most important of our 
country’s natural resources: the white pine at the North 
and the pitch pine at the South; and these two have con- 
ditioned the settlement of the regions in which they occur. 
Both have been ruthlessly sacrificed, and we have but a 
poor and shabby remnant of them left. At the North the 
white pine was cut first; then the spruce, and then the hem- 
lock. This was the order of their usefulness to us. Old 
fences made of enduring pine stumps surround fields where 
there are no living pine trees to be seen, bearing silent testi- 
mony to their size and their aforetime abundance. 

Our evergreens, broadly considered, fall into two groups of 
very different character. These are the narrow-leaved 
evergreens (the leaves we call ‘‘needles’’), mostly conifers, 
and the broad-leaved evergreens. The former are mostly 
trees of the forest cover; the latter are mostly underlings. 
The former are mostly valuable timber trees; the latter have 
little practical importance. The former are plants of an 


go 


WINTER VERDURE OF THE FARM QI 


archaic type that bear naked seeds in cones and have incon- 
spicuous flowers. The latter are of more recent origin and 
have mostly very showy flowers. So great are these differen- 
ces that we may better consider the two groups separately. 

The larger conifers all have one habit of growth: they 
shoot upward straight as an arrow. Most of them have their 
branches arranged in whorls about the slender tapering trunk, 
and extended horizontally. Thus, under their winter 
burden of ice and snow, they may bend down uninjured until 
they rest on branches below, or on the ground. Given plenty 
of room, the pines grow in ragged outlines; the spruces, 
hemlock and balsam are beautifully tapering and conical; the 
arborvite and the taller cedars approach cylindric form. In 
color the white pine is the darkest green; the pitch pine is 
yellowish green. The balsams and certain spruces and 
cedars have a bluish cast. Arborvite is a chameleon, that 
changes its color with the season, being rather dull and un- 
attractive in midwinter, but making upforit by the liveliness 
of its tints a little later. In texture the pines are loosest, 
their long needles being arranged in bundles. The balsams 
and spruces have a sleek, furry aspect. The hemlock is soft 
and fine: indeed, of all foliage masses, there are none more 
beautiful than those of well-grown hemlock. And the 
closest textures of all are wrought out of the minute, close-laid 
leaves of the cedars and the arborvite. The red cedar is not 
among the largest of the conifers, but it is a valuable one, 
because of the fine aromatic fragrance and the enduring 
quality of its wood. The yews and the junipers are the 
underlings of this group: they are low, sprawling shrubs 
that grow on the forest floor in the shade, or on stony and 
barren slopes. 

This exceedingly important group of trees furnishes us 
with a great variety of products: timber, fuel, tannin, tur- 
pentine, rosin, etc.; but it furnished the red man with many 


g2 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


additional, not the least important of which was cordage. 
The Indian made binding thongs from the tough roots of 
hemlock, cedar and yew. 

Our broad-leaved evergreens are mostly low shrubs, and 
trailing ground-covér herbs. One of the finest of them, in the 
freshness of its winter greenery and in beauty of its summer 
flowers, is the mountain laurel. In the woods on the ground 
there are clumps of evergreen ferns, and partridge berry and 
wintergreen, and tufts of perennial mosses, and considerable 
areas are oftef overspread with the bright and shining ver- 
dure of the blue myrtle, or, in dry places, with the gray-green 
of the moss-pink. Many of our scattered herbs like alum- 
root and wild strawberry remain green over winter if not too 
much exposed. . Even the grasses of our lawns remain green, 
with a little protection. 


Study 12. Evergreens of the Farm 


An examination of all the commoner and more interesting 
evergreens of the farm, with a view to learning their earmarks, 
is the object of this study. The apparatus needed will be a 
lens and a pocket knife. 


The program of the work will include a trip about the lawns 
where specimen trees grown in the open may be found,* and 
a visit to the woods to see the evergreens of the forest cover 
and the forest floor. The species are to be examined care- 
fully, one by one, and their salient characters noted. The 
conifers are to be written up in a table prepared with headings 
as indicated on pages 94 andgos5. The more heterogeneous 
broad-leaved evergreens are to be listed, with brief notes as 
to their characters and habits. 


*Often the most available living collection of evergreens will be 
found in a neighboring cemetery or park. 


WINTER VERDURE OF THE FARM 93 


The record of this study will consist in: 

1. The table of conifers above mentioned filled out so far 
as data are available. 

2. Anannotated list ofthe broad-leaved evergreens, with 


notes on size, growth-habits, situation preferred, character of 
foliage, etc. 


RECOGNITION CHARACTERS OF 


NAME 


Leaves 


Growth Kind of 
Habit? Bark? Sipe Form4 


* Diagram, 


? Note color, content, manner of shedding, etc. 


? Length & width in mm. 


4Cylindric, flat, keeled, grooved, etc. 


95 
EVERGREEN TREES AND SHRUBS 


Fruit 


Miscellaneous 
Position® Arrangement® Kind? Form?’ 


5 Appressed or divergent, etc. 

6 Solitary or in bundles: if solitary, are they opposite or alternate, 2-ranked 
or scattered: if in bundles, how many leaves per bundle. 

7Cone, berry, drupe, etc. 

® Diagram of distinctive features, 


XII. THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM 


“I'm truly sorry man’s dominion 
Has broken Nature’s social union, 
An’ justifies that 1ll opinion, 
Which makes thee startle, 
At me, thy poor earth-born companion 
An’ fellow-mortall 
—Robert Burns (To @ mouse, on turning her up in her nest with the plough). 

Aboriginal society in America was largely based on the 
native wild beasts. They were more essential to the red 
man than our flocks and herds are to us. His dependence 
upon them was more direct and absolute. They furnished 
him food and clothing and shelter and tools. His clothing 
was made of skins; his eating and drinking vessels were of 
horn and hide and bone. His knife was a beaver tooth. 
Sinews, teeth, hair, hide, hoofs, intestines and bones 
all served him. Out of them he got hammers and wedges 
and drills and scrapers and clamps; threads and thongs and 
boxes and bags; tools and supplies for all purposes. He 
made textiles of hair and of quills, and in them-wrought the 
expression of his esthetic ideals. 

The Indian was conquered and driven out in part by direct 
assault, but in a far larger part by the destruction of his 
resources in furs and game. Losing these, he became 
dependent. Armed resistance by the eastern Indians ceased 
with the passing of the beaver; by the Plains Indians, with 
the passing of the buffalo. 

The earliest white settlements in America were supported 
mainly by hunting and trapping and the sale of furs. Mis- 
sionary zeal and desire for extension of empire promoted the 
founding of colonies, but peltries provided the necessary 
revenues for their maintenance. The fur trade was inti- 
mately associated with our early colonial development and 


96 


THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM 97 


even with early social affairs and military enterprises. The 
beaver and the badger and the wolverine and the bison rightly 
occupy a place on the seals of certain of our states. 

These fine quadrupeds, once so abundant, are gone from 
our settled country. Save for a remnant, preserved in 
reservations, largely as a result of private enterprise, the 
bison is entirely gone. The others are crowded to the far 
northern frontier. We have fur-bearers still, and also a fur 
trade: indeed, more money is spent for furs nowadays than 
ever before in the country’s history. But our furs are now 
derived from animals which but a generation ago were mainly 
considered hardly worth skinning. The four native mammals 
which now chiefly supply ‘the market are, in their respective 
order, muskrat, skunk, opossum and raccoon, with the mink 
still furnishing a lesser proportion of much more valuable 
skins. These are obtained in considerable numbers from all 
parts of the country still, but the getting of them is no longer 
aman’s work. It is rather the recreation of the enterprising 
farm boy. 

The white man brought with him to America all the differ- 
ent kinds of mammals that he now uses. He found none 
domesticated here. The Indian was a hunter, not a 
husbandman. The white man was a more ruthless hunter, 
equipped with better weapons. The Indian would no more 
kill off allthe beaver and otter on his range, than the stock- 
man would dispose of all his herd. He kept a portion to 
breed and renew the supply. But the white man, having his 
domesticated animals to fall back on, slaughtered the wild 
ones ruthlessly without regard for the future. Indeed, the 
wantonness of the slaughter of some of them—notably of the 
bison—is a disgraceful chapter in our country’s history. 

The mammals that are of great importance to man fall in 
three groups: hoofed animals, beasts of prey and rodents. 
There were some fine native hoofed animals in North America. 


98 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Besides the bison, ‘“‘noblest of American quadrupeds,” there 
were deer and elk and moose, of wide distribution; in the 
Rockies were mountain sheep and goats; and in their foot- 
hills, the graceful pronghorn. Of these, the red deer remains 
where given protection; indeed, though never domesticated, 
it seems to thrive on the borders of 
civilization. Recently in New Eng- 
land, farmers have had tokill off wild 
deer in order to save their crops. 

Of the beasts of prey, all the lar- 
ger species, bears and pumas and 
lynxes and wolves, have been killed 
or driven out; and probably most of 
us would be well enough satisfied to 
have all those that remain, confined 
in zoological parks. Foxes linger in 
the larger wooded tracts. Skunks 
are probably more abundant than in 
primeval times; for there ismorefood 
available and they are not hunted 
very eagerly by most of us. Minks 
and weasels and raccoons haunt the 
swamps and marshes, and being both small and alert, main- 
tain themselves very well. 

The rodents have fared better under agricultural conditions 
than the two preceding groups. The destruction of the beasts 
of prey removed their most dangerous natural enemies, and 
the growing of crops in the fields increased their available 
food. Itis altogether probable, therefore, that where special 
measures are not taken by man to destroy them, such rodents 
as the woodchucks, gophers, meadow mice and rabbits are 
more abundant now than in primeval times. At any 
rate, we can, by taking proper measures, find plenty of 
them. 


Fic. 48. A pronghorn buck. 


THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM 99 


Then there area few little insect-eating mammals, like the 
moles and the shrews in their burrows in the soil, and the bats 
in the air, that perhaps are not greatly affected by the 
changed conditions. Southward, there is the interesting 
marsupial, the opossum, nocturnal, wary and elusive, holding 
its own. 

The group of mammals includes those animals that are 
most like us in structure and habits and mode of develop- 
ment. Among them are our best servants, our best pro- 
ducers of bodily comforts, our most direct competitors and 
our most dangerous enemies. We have gathered the more 
docile of those useful to us about our homes, and have made 
them our more immediate servants. We have exploited their 
untamable allies to the limit of our powers. So long as there 
remained a toothsome body or a prized pelt, we spared not. 
Our enemies and competitors we killed. At first it was done 
in self-defense: of late, it has been done in sheer and wanton 
love of slaughter. Improved weapons of destruction have 
placed the larger beasts completely at our mercy, and we have 
had no mercy. There remain with us one that we avoid, a 
few that are too small to be deemed worthy of pursuit, and a 
few that are able to elude us. At our approach the squirrels 
hide from us in the trees; the gophers and their kind drop’ 
into their burrows, the swamp-dwellers slip into the water, 
and the wily foxes watch us from the thickets. Eternal 
vigilance is the price of their safety. We may see little of 
them when we walk in the woods or by the streamside, but 
there are many pairs of sharp little eyes always watching us. 

Before the final disappearance of the larger species, it is 
well that we are taking measures to keep a remnant of them 
in game preserves: our descendants will want to know what, 
the native fauna of their native land was like. Wedo well,\ 
also, to consider that each species we destroyisa final product 
of the evolution of the ages. It is the outcome of the toil and 


100° NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


pains of countless generations; and when once swept away 
it can never be recovered. 7 

By the care of our flocks we have become more sympathetic 
towards tame animals. By taking thought for the welfare 
of the remnant of our wild animals, we shall become more 
sympathetic toward them, more appreciative of their fine 
powers and their esthetic values. We shall become more 
civilized; for, as the late Professor Shaler assured us, ‘‘The 
sense of duty which mastery of the earth gives, is to be one 
of the moral gifts of modern learning.” 


Study 13. The Wild Mammals of the Farm 


This study includes a little trapping expedition, and some 
examination of captured wild animals and observations of 
their haunts and habits. The tools needed will be pocket 
knives, an individual supply of small mouse traps and bait 
(rolled oats will do for bait), and some cord and fine wire for 
snares. Since members of the class will be able to capture 
only a few of the over-abundant little rodents, others should 
be available in captivity. Woodchucks, chipmunks, etc., 
may be kept buried in a box in hibernation, if obtained in 
autumn. Raccoons, opossums, etc., may be purchased from 
‘dealers. They may often be borrowed from persons in the 
neighborhood who keep them as pets. 

The program of work will consist of: 

1. A trip along some meadow fence-row and about the 
grassy borders of a wood, taking up a line of traps (that should 
have been set the day before and marked as to location), 
removing the catch and again baiting them. They should be 
set in the runways of meadow mice, wood mice, shrews, moles, 
etc. Little “Zip” traps, or others of the guillotine type, are 
lightest and cheapest (three cents or less apiece in quantities), 
and are quite efficient. They are baited by sprinkling some 
flakes of oats about the trigger. They are best covered by a 


THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM 


Iort 


sheltering piece of bark or a flat stone, supported an inch or 


more, allowing easy access. 


T 


HL, 


Fic. 49. Spring pole and snare: 


A, its setting; the pole is a 
lithe sapling, trimmed and 
bent, its top held down 


by a line, 1, attached to a 
trigger ina hole in the post, p. 
Fast to the line is the slip- 
noose, 2 (most quickly made 
of small annealed brass wire), 
which is set across the rab- 
bit’s path in such _a position 
that the rabbit will push his 
head through it when reach- 
ing the bait, B. T illustrates 
how the trigger ¢ is set in a 
54 inch hole in the post. The 
slightest movement of the 
bait-stick rolls the ball, re- 
leases the line, 1, and liberates 
the pole to draw the noose. 


A few snares of the simple sort 
illustrated in fig. 49 (or of some 
better sort known to any member 
of the class) may be set in the 
briar patch in the runways of rab- 
bits or in the mouths of their bur- 
rows. 

2. Such animals as the traps 
contain, together with such others 
as are provided, living or dead or 
represented by tanned skins, are to 
be compared and their characters 
are to be written in a table pre- 
pared with headings as indicated 
on pages 102 and 103. Fill out the 
table in full, but distinguish in it 
between original observations and 
borrowed data. 

The record of this study will 
consist in: 

1. The completed table, as indi- 
cated above. 


2. Amap of the farm, with the location of typical haunts 
of the different species studied indicated upon it, 


THE WILD MAMMALS 


RODENTIA 
oo 


© 


CARNIVORA 
am 
Oo 


_ 
_ 


12. 


. Red squirrel 


Deer mouse 


. Meadow mouse 


. Short-tailed shrew 


. Mole 


Skunk 


Mink 


. Weasel 


. Raccoon 


Bat 


Length 
NAME Weight Color and Markings? 
Body Tail 
f 1. Woodchuck 
2. Chipmunk 


1In brief. 


OF THE FARM 


103 


Fur 


Quality! |Market Price 


Feeding Habits? 


Economy? 


Miscellaneous 


2 How does it affect our interests. 


XIV. THE DOMESTICATED MAMMALS OF 
THE FARM 


“One of the best features of agricultural life consists in the great amount 
of care-iaking which it imposes upon its followers. The ordinary farmer 
has to enter into more or less sympathetic relations with half a score of 
animal species and many kinds of plants. His life, indeed, is devoted to 
ceaseless friendly relations with these creatures, which live or die at his will. 
In this task ancient savage impulses are slowly worn away and in their 
place comes the enduring kindliness of cultivated men. . . To this 
perhaps more than to any other one cause, we must attribute the civilizable 
and the civilized state of mind.” 

—Shaler (Domesticated Animals, p. 222). 

Our chief needs in life are things to eat, things to wear, and 
things to have fun with. Our mammalian allies provide all 
these things to a remarkable degree. Agriculture tends to 
increase the things that minister to our bodily comforts; but 
it is probable that animals were first domesticated to serve 
the needs of our minds; for the first animal to be domesti- 
cated appears to have been the dog, and he, to furnish, not 
food, nor raiment, but companionship. The dog was docile 
and friendly and cheerful and in every way responsive to his 
master’s moods. His mind was of a singularly human-like 
quality. He could interpret his master’s commands, and was 
eager to obey them. He could appreciate praise or blame. 
He could profit by instruction; and he lent to primitive man 
the inestimable aid of his sharp teeth, his swift feet, his keen 
ears and nose, and, above all, his courage and his fealty. He 
shared his master’s hovel and ate of the leavings from his 
table until he came to prefer his master’s society to that of his 
own kind, staying with him through poverty and want, often 
indeed, in the face of penury and abuse. Hebecameawill- 
ing slave, and the ‘‘completest conquest man has made in 
all the animal kingdom.”’ In all this he was a companion and 
a helper. Rarely among the tribes of men has the dog 


104 


DOMESTICATED MAMMALS OF THE FARM _ 105 


been considered a source of food supply, except in times 
of famine. 

And our dealings with the other domesticated beasts, that 
nowadays seem so utilitarian, were not in the beginning so 
very different. It is probable that the first of them to be 
brought into human association were captured young and 
kept at home as pets. The desire of their captors was 
probably not to eat them, nor to wear their skins, but to see 
more of their interesting ways. The frisking calf or colt or 
lamb was a new playmate for the children of the household. 
So, all sorts of wild animals are gathered about the homes of 
primitive people everywhere, even today. So, they are 
played with: and tamed, and such as prove harmless and 
docile are allowed increasing liberty about the place. There 
are few of them indeed, that, when free andfully grown, will 
not desert the homes of their captors for their native wilds. 
Some such have been found in times long past, and from these 
have descended our domesticated animals. Doubtlessthesav- 
age youth whofirst captured a few wild calves, and tamed and 
reared and bred them and started a herd, little realized the 
far-reaching influence of his venture upon the development of 
human civilization. 

In attaching the more useful’ wild animals to his home, 
savage man attached himself there. It became easier to 
raise food and clothing than to get them by the uncertainties 
of the chase. Asa keeper of flocks and herds his substance 
increased; his living became better assured; his sympathies 
and interests were broadened; his forethought grew. 

The dog has been of chief value to the hunter and the 
husbandman. He was by nature a superb scout; vigilant, 
keen, able to take care of himself, and quick to learn ways of 
coéperating with hismaster. Hecould be taught what to do, 
and—yet more remarkable—what not to do, even to the 
curbing of his natural appetites. From eating sheep and 


106 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


fowls he came with education to be the protector and shep- 
herd of them. He could be taught to work also, tho too 
small to be of value where large beasts of burden are available; 
yet that stocky dog, the turnspit, was developed to operate 
the treadmill. Heisa draft animal in arcticlands; there his 
flesh also serves to tide over many a famine, and his furry 
coat is used for clothing. It is only in our cities, where 
removed from the ways of nature, and subject to too much 
coddling, and developed in freak varieties, that he has become 
a stupid and useless nuisance. 

Dogs are subservient to their masters in both sexes; while 
the males of the larger domesticated beasts, after centuries of 
care and training, remain dangerous beasts still. 

One of the greatest advances in agri- 
culture came with the domestication of 
the cattle-kind, and their use as draft 

Fic. 50. Ox yoke: our animals. Turning the soil with a 

a as sharpened stick was, to the early 
planter, a sore task, and a slow one. When the stick was 
exchanged for a plow, and the great strength of the ox 
was set to draw it, then tillage began on a larger scale. 
Then settled homes, and property in land, began to be 
developed. Nature equipped the cattle kind to serve us in 
many ways. She made them excellent producers of flesh and 
of milk, of hides and of horn. She made them hardy, and 
adaptable to a great variety of climate and of artificial condi- 
tions of life. She made them to live on such herbage as any 
meadow, wild or tame, offers. In no other beasts has she so 
combined usefulness in labor, docility, and productiveness. 

The horse has been one of man’s chief helpers along the 
road of progress. Next to the dog he has been man’s most 
intimate associate. He was admirably adapted by nature to 
supplement man’s physical powers. He was of the right size: 
not too small to carry a rider and not too large nor too 


DOMESTICATED MAMMALS OF THE FARM 107 


obstinate to be manageable. His back was a natural saddle, 
behind the sloping shoulder blades, and his well-knit frame 
was well braced and fitted for carrying a rider easily His 
rounded muscular hams gave power to his hind legs and made 
them efficient organs of propulsion. His lengthened foot 
bones gave length of stride. His solid hoofs were well 
cushioned and admirably adapted for 
travel over solid ground. His gait was 
more easy and graceful than that of any 
other beast of burden. The structure of 
his mouth would seem to have invited the 
use of a bridle-bit for his guidance and 
control. The whole horse invited a rider; 
and doubtless many a savage youth, who 
had captured an orphaned colt and reared 
it by hand, felt moved to accept the invi- FG; 51,, The pleasure 
tation. At first he doubtless rode bare- 

back, and with only a cord halter for control. Later, 
he invented a saddle and a bridle. To a strong horse, 
the weight of grown man is a lightsome burden. The 
saddle is not a symbol of labor, but of a pleasure that 
is mutual. The two participants seem complemental. 
The trained horse and the skilful rider make a unit in 
action: they make up such a powerful creature as the 
mythical Centaur was intended to portray. In the long 
struggles of past centuries during which incessant wars were 
waged in hand to hand encounter, the mounted soldier had a 
tremendous advantage. The horse lent him swiftness 
and strength and momentum in attack, and advantage of 
position _in the fray. The mounted soldiery of the Aryan 
and Semitic peoples enabled them to overrun the earth. 
* As the wealth of a people was measured of old by its herds 
of cattle, so its power was measured by its multitudes of war 
horses. All ancient art and literature testify abundantly to 


108 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


this. The horse was kept for use in war mainly. Some 
peculiarities of his mental make-up seem to fit him for the 
parade ground. He seems to love excitement. He enters 
into a race with great zest. He steps high in public and 
wears the trappings of war with all the proud disdainfulness 
of a Cavalier. He has given his name to one ostentatious 
period of our history, the Age of Chivalry. 

To the Greeks we probably owe an invention of the first 
order, that has adapted the horse more fully to our needs: 
the iron shoe, to fit his foot for continuous travel over hard 
roads. The cloven foot of the ox could not be so equipped. 
It was adapted for soft ground and could not endure hard 
roads. The horse gradually took the place of the ox, first on 
the roads and later in the furrow. The horse was both 
swifter of foot and stronger. Do we not still measure the 
energy used for heavy work in horse-power? 

To our welfare sheep have contributed of their flesh and 
their wool. The latter is their unique gift to us. Man’s 
earlier clothing of skins was heavy and unadaptable and 
unhygienic. Sheep’s wool is finely adapted to be spun into 
threads and woven into cloth; and, so treated, it makes the 
strongest and best of clothing. The discovery of this art 
wrought one of the greatest advances in the comforts of life 
for people in temperate climes. Sheep do not belong to the 
tropics. They are adapted to life in rough, hilly, semi- 
agricultural districts. They are less exacting as to forage 
than are cattle, and being strictly gregarious, the flocks 
are more easily herded and guarded from the attack of wild 
beasts. They are quicker of growth than cattle, and more 
prolific, and less capital is required to make a beginning at 
sheep-raising. 

The pig has served us mainly as a supplementary food 
supply. He puts on flesh quickly and is very prolific. 
Hence, the meat supply can be more quickly increased by 


DOMESTICATED MAMMALS OF THE FARM 10g 


raising pigs than by raising sheep or cattle. In our late Civil 
War, hogs early became the main reliance for meat supply for 
the soldiers on both sides. 
The quantity of pork in the 
country at any given time may, 
(= =by raising hogs, be doubled in 
eighteen months. Hogs are 
well nigh omnivorous and are 
gifted by nature with a keen sense of smell, with the aid of 
which they are able to find food that cattle and horses waste. 
So they are usually allowed to run after cattle to convert the 
waste into pork. The pig isnot naturally a very dirty animal, 
when given a chance to be clean, nor is he hopelessly stupid. 
He can be taught more tricks than many animals that have a 
higher reputation for cleverness. His manners, however, are 
bad. 

These five animals, dog, horse, ox, sheep and pig are as yet 
our main dependence. There are others more or less widely 
kept, like the cat and the ass and the goat and the rabbit; 
but these five are most necessary tous. These illustrate well 
the phenomena of domestication: the many different pur- 
poses served by different beasts, the great differences among 
them in size, in strength, in speed, in habits, in disposition, 
and in products. We do not treat any two kinds of them 
alike, nor in speaking to them, do we use the same words. 

They have affected our sympathies and our habits, enriched 
our language, and conditioned our progress. How individual 
they are: how well known and characteristic are their 
voices. Dogs bark and whine and howl: cats purr and 
mew and yowl: horses whinny and neigh: bulls bellow 
and cows bawl: pigs grunt and squeal: sheep bleat: don- 
keys bray. How characteristic their actions are, also. They 
furnish our most graphic figures of speech. Often in politics 
or in business we hear men accused of shying, of balking, of 


Fic. 52. A quick-growing meat supply. 


IIo NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


getting their bristles up, or of having the fur rubbed the 
wrong way; of barking up the wrong tree. Ethnologists tell 
us that half the words in any primitive language are derived 
from association with animals. 

They have been long and intimately associated with man- 
kind. They have learned some things from us, but we have 
learned vastly more from them. We have learned fidelity 
from the dog, chivalry from the horse, gentleness from the 
cow, parental affection and coéperation and sympathy from 
all of them. To our minds, the dog stands for fealty; he 
represents many private virtues. The horse stands for 
courage; he represents rather the public virtues. The ox 
stands for docility. The sheep represents our commonest 
social, the pig, our commonest personal shortcomings. 

How much we have been influenced in our’ dealings with 
them by their mental characteristics is well shown by the 
horse: his flesh is excellent, but the thought of eating it is 
repugnant tous. The milk of maresis good, but who would 
drink it? In lands wherecertain cattleare regarded as sacred, 
their flesh is not considered good toeat. Their availability as 
food is not determined by our judgment, but by our sympa- 
thies. Furthermore, the mule, considered from a purely utili- 
tarian standpoint, has much to commend him to our favor. 
Though he is a hybrid between the horse and the ass, he is 
stronger than either parent. He will live on coarser food 
than the horse, and needs less careful handling. But heis 
a sterile hybrid; his voice is a bray, his ears are long, he is 
inelegant in outline and in his bearing, and his manners lack 
all the pleasing little playful capers of the horse. He has 
taken no hold on our affections. 

The domestication of all our important live stock antedates 
history. Of the five most important mammals discussed in 
the preceding pages, the ancestor of only the pig is known. 
It is the wild boar of Europe. Selection has done its proper 


DOMESTICATED MAMMALS OF THE FARM Tit 


work on all of them, and as many types of each of them have 
been evolved as there were purposes to be served. Selection 
began with dogs, and has proceeded farthest with them. 
They have served the greatest variety of purposes. There 
are sledging dogs for the arctic fields, and turnspits for the 
tread mills, and bulldogs to guard the door, and shepherd dogs 
to guard the flocks, and besides these, and more numerous 
than all these, are the hunting dogs: for hunting was the 
occupation that dogs could best aid. There were developed, 
to meet the various conditions of the chase, harriers and 
beagles and pointers and setters and terriers, etc., and, to 
follow particular kinds of game, bloodhounds and foxhounds 
to run by smell, and greyhounds and staghounds to run by 
sight; and so on, dogs without end. The case is much 
simpler with the other mammals. Horses are bred mainly 
for speed or for draft, thothere are many kindsof horses, and 
ponies for children’s use besides. Cattle are bred mainly for 
beef or for milk production; sheep for mutton or for wool; 
pigs for lard or for bacon, etc. In the following study we 
shall have opportunity to study a number of the important 
breeds. Let us do it without forgetting that the reasons for 
their value to us have lain and yet lie in their natural history. 


Study 14. The Domesticated Mammals of the Farm 


The object of this study is an acquaintance with the live 
stock of the farm: their number, location, characteristics 
and uses. 

The program of work will consist of a trip to all the barns 
where domesticated mammals are kept: (1) a preliminary 
examination will be made of a typical representative of 
each species, and then (2) a more detailed examination of the 
varieties of a few species. 


112 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


The record of this study will be in two parts: 


1. Thestudent will write up brief notes on the dog, horse, 
cow, sheep, pig, etc., concerning those points in their natural 
history determining their availability for purposes of domesti- 
cation as follows: their size and weight (average); rate of 
growth; reproductive capacity; foods and feeding habits; 
voice and social habits; weapons and fighting habits; for 
what use fit; and general attractiveness or unattractiveness 
of make-up and behavior. These notes should include only 
personal observations. 

2. The record of the second part of this study, the com- 
parison of breeds, may conveniently be incorporated into 
tables, one for each species studied, with column headings 
indicating the more obvious points of structure and of pro- 
ductiveness and habits in which the breeds differ from one 
another. For example. a table for the breeds of cattle might 
have the column headings as follows: 

Name of breed (as Holstein, Ayrshire, etc.). 

Average weight (adult) 

Average milk production (get data from dairy record). 

Color and markings. 

Horns. 

Muzzle. 

Feet. 

Other peculiarities. 

Number kept. 

Kept where. 

Average market value. 


2 » 


XV. THE FOWLS OF THE FARM 


“No longer now the winged habitants, 
That in the woods their sweet lives sing away, 
Flee from the form of man; but gather round, 
And prune their sunny feathers on the hands 
Which little children stretch in friendly sport 
Towards these dreadless partners of their play.” 
—Shelley (Daemon of the World). 

In that day, not so long gone in America, when ali men 
were huntsmen, and when game was all-important animal 
food, wild fowls were abundant everywhere. The feathered 
game was the most toothsome and wholesome of animal 
foods. The waterfowl], fattened on wild rice and on wild 
celery, and the turkeys and pigeons, fattened on mast, acquired 
a flavor that is a tradition among our epicures. Eggs, also, 
and feathers were their further contribution to human needs. 

These wild fow], altho mainly different species from those 
we have domesticated, represent the same bird groups that 
are used by mankind the world over: land fowl, and water- 
fowl, and pigeons. There were also a good many lesser 
edible birds of no great importance, such as the snipe of the 
shores, the woodcock of the swamps, and the rails of the 
marshes. Comparatively few birds were big enough to be 
worthy of consideration as food forman. Of large land fowl 
the most noteworthy were wild turkeys and grouse and quail. 
Of large waterfowl there were swans and geese and ducks. 
Of tree-dwelling fowl there were wild pigeons. 

To learn how abundant these were we need go back only a 
little to the records of the pioneers. Father Raffeix, the 
Jesuit missionary who was one of the first white men to dwell 
beside “‘Cayuga’s waters,” wrote thus of the abundance of 
game in the Cayuga basin: “Every year in the vicinity of 
Cayuga more than a thousand deers are Killed. Four 

113 


II4 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


leagues distant from here on the brink of the river (the 
Seneca) are eight or ten fine salt fountains in a small space. 
Itis there that nets are spread for pigeons, and from seven to 
eight hundred are often taken at a single stroke of the net. 
Lake Tiohero (Cayuga), one of the two which joins our can- 
ton, is fully fourteen leagues long and one or two broad. It 
abounds in swans and geese all winter, and in spring one sees 
a continuous cloud of all sorts of game. The river which 
rises in the lake soon divides into different channels enclosed 
by prairies, with here and there fine attractive bays of con- 
siderable extent, excellent places for hunting.” (Jesuit 
Relations for 1671-72). 

Of our fine native fowl, one, the 
turkey, has been domesticated; one, 
the wild pigeon has been wholly exter- 
minated; and most of the others have 
been hunted almost to the point of 
extinction. Game laws have served 
in the past merely to prolong a lit- 
tle their slaughter. If there be any 
hope of preserving unto future gener- 
ations the remnant of those game birds 
that still survive, it would seem to lie 
in the permanent reservations that are 
being established north and south, 
for their protection. 

The wild pigeon was the first of our 
fine game birds to disappear. Its 
social habits were its undoing, when 
once guns were brought to its pursuit. 
It flew in great flocks which were 
conspicuous and noisy, and which the 

hunter could follow by eye and ear, 
Pro; 53. The wild passenger and mow down with shot at every 


THE FOWLS OF THE FARM II5 


resting place. One generation of Americans found the 
pigeons in “inexhaustible supply: the next saw them 
vanish—vanish, so quickly that few museums even sought 
to keep specimens of their skins or their nests or their eggs; 
the third generation (which we represent) marvels at the true 
tales of their aforetime abundance, and at the swiftness of 
their passing; and it allows the process of extermination to go 
ononly a little more slowly, with other fine native species. 

The waterfowl have fared a little better. Their migratory 
habits have kept most of them, except at the season of their 
coming and going, out of the way of the pot-hunter. In their 
summer breeding grounds in the far north, andin their winter 
feeding grounds in the far south they have been exposed mainly 
to those natural enemies with which they were fitted to cope. 
Yet, before the fusillade of lead that has followed their every 
flight across our borders their ranks have steadily thinned. 
Their size and conspicuousness (and consequent ability to 
gratify the hunter’s zeal for big game) seem to be determining 
the order of their passing. The swans have disappeared: 
the geese are nearly gone: rarely do we hear their honk, 
honk overhead in springtime; and the wild ducks appear in 
our Cayuga skies in ever-lessening numbers. Who that 
has grown up in a land of abundant wild fowl, has known 
them as heralds of summer and winter, has seen them coming 
out of the north and disappearing into the south, has not 
marvelled at the swiftness, strength and endurance of their 
flight, and been uplifted with enthusiasm as he watched their 
well-drilled V-shaped companies, cleaving the sky in lines of 
perfect alignment and spacing. Our literature testifies 
abundantly to the inspiration of this phenomenon. How 
much poorer will our posterity be if these signs are to dis- 
appear from our zodiac! 

The terrestrial wild fowl have vanished also; especially 
those that, like the wild turkey, were large enough to be 


116 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


trophies to the hunter; or 
those, like the bob-white, 
that were social in habits; or 
those, like the prairie hen, 
that flew in the open and 
could be followed by the eye 
to cover. Our woods-loving 
ruffed grouse has fared a 
- little better. Wherever suff- 
cient forest cover remains, 
it has been able to maintain 
itself in spite of well-armed 
pursuers. It is alert. It is 
solitary. Its protective 
coloration is well nigh perfection. Its flight is swift;. 
and when flushed from cover, it goes off with a startling 
suddenness and whirring of wings that disconcerts the 
average hunter and delays his fire until a safe escape 
has been made. Moreover, the hunter, by killing off 
some of its worst enemies among the beasts of prey, has 
unwittingly helped the grouse to hold its place. So it 
remains with us, by virtue of its superb natural endowment, 
notwithstanding it is truly a hunter’s prize. Fattenedon the 
wild cereals of the woodland swales, 
and flavored with the aromatic buds 
of the sweet birch, there is no more 
toothsome game bird in the world 
than this one. 

Among the curious sounds made 
by male birds, the calls of our native 
land birds are most unique. The 
ludicrous gobble of the turkey, the 
thrilling whistle of the bob-white, Y 
the muffled drumming of the ruffed 7'C:,33, The male ruffed 


Fic. 54. Bob-white (after Seton). 


THE FOWLS OF THE FARM 117 


grouse, are sounds unmatched in nature and inimitable; 
so also are the antics that accompany their utterance. 

The day of abundance of wild 
fowl in this country is forever 
past. The most that may be 
hoped for by the bird-lover is 
that a few may be saved here 
and there, wherever fit homes 
for them remain. The pigeon is 
gone; the turkey is a captive; 
but let us hope that a few wild 
places will be preserved where 
those who come after us may 
hear the call of the bob-white 

ae and the grouse in our vales: 
Fic, 56. The sora rail (Porsana tet us hope they may be uplifted 
with the sight of some of our 

fine wild waterfowl, traversing the equinoctial skies. 

Our ancestors brought with them to America fowls that 
had been domesticated in earlier times and in far distant 
lands: chickens, ducks, geese, pigeons, guineafowl, pea- 
fowl, etc. These, doubtless, came into domestication largely 
by way of the barnyard. Are they not called barnyard 
fowl, and so distinguished from wild fowl? They may have 
lingered about the stalls of the cattle and horses in primeval 
times to find the grain wasted by these animals, and to feed 
upon it. It is a noteworthy fact that ofall birds, the onesmost 
useful to us are those that are best equipped by nature for 
working-over the barnyard litter and securing the grain left 
init; the gallinaceous birds by scratching with their feet; the 
waterfowl by dabbling with their beaks. They consumed 
what would otherwise have been wasted, andturneditintoa 
reserve meat supply; so they were encouraged to remain. 
With growing familiarity they made their nests in the hay- 


118 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


mow and among the fodder, where their eggs could be more 
easily found than in the woods. Here was another reason for 
encouraging intimacy. Nests were made for them; at first, 
as nearly as might be, after their own models. Then shelters 
were erected over their roosts; then pens were built to keep 
them from their enemies. So, by some such easy stages, 
poultry husbandry probably began. 

The most valuable fowls are those that furnish eggs as well 
asmeat. Eggs are pure food, containing no refuse. Among 
animal foods they are nature’s choicest product. They are 
edible without cooking and are at their best when most 
simply prepared for the table. All the world eats eggs; and 
in any land to which one may travel, whatever its culinary 
offerings, one may eat eggs, and live. 

Among domesticated fowls, chickens hold first place. The 
obvious practical reasons for this are the excellent quality of 
their flesh, the rapidity of their growth, their productivity of 
eggs, and their hardiness and ready adaptability to the 
artificial conditions under which we keep them. The less 
obvious, but none the less real reason, is that we like chick- 
ens for their interesting ways. They are eminently social 
creatures, endowed witha wonderful variety of voice and signs 
for social converse. Their beauty strongly appeals to us. 
We are interested in the arrogant complacency of the cock, in 
his cheerful pugnacity, his lusty crowing, his watchfulness 
over his flock, his warning call when a hawk appearsin the sky, 
and his great gallantry toward the hens. How ostenta- 
tiously he calls them when he finds a choice morsel of food 
(tho he may absent-mindedly swallow it himself). We like 
the hen for her gentle demeanor, her cheerful, tho unmelo- 
dious song; her diligence and capability in all her daily 
tasks; her fine maternal instincts and self-sacrificing devotion 
to her brood. The chicks also appeal to us by their downy 
plumpness of form, their cheerful sociability and their soft 


THE FOWLS OF THE FARM 11g 


conversation, and playfulness. Contrast with this the pea- 
fowl: itis of good quality and large size and effulgent showi- 
ness, but it has a raucous voice and bad social manners, 
and it has never taken any hold on the affections of human 
kind. There can be no doubt that in the beginning—in those 
prehistoric days during which all our important conquests of 
animated nature were made—when association with domestic 
animals was much more intimate than now, animals were 
selected, as other associates are selected, on the basis of 
pleasing personal characteristics. 


Study 15. The Fowls of the Farm 


Few observations by a class on wild fowl are possible: 
hence, this study assumes a few such forms as grouse, bob- 
whites and pheasants in pens, and available domesticated 
breeds of the various kinds of poultry. The information 
obtainable in the pens may be supplemented by exhibits of 
skins, nests, and eggs, by photographs and lantern slides. 
Two things are here proposed to be undertaken: 

1. A general comparison of fowl species, wild and tame, 
as to those qualities that determine availability for domestica- 
tion; and 

2. A comparison and census of the breeds of the more 
important kinds of poultry maintained on the farm. 

The program of work will include a visit to atleast one pen 
of each kind (species, not breed) of fowl, with note-taking as 
indicated below, followed by a more careful examination of 
the breeds of one or more kinds. 

The record of the first part may consist of an annotated list 
of all the kinds of fowls studied, with notes on such points as 
relative size and weight, rate of growth, reproductive capacity, 
foods and feeding habits, eggs and nesting habits, broods and 
breeding habits, voice and social habits, weapons and fighting 
habits, and their general attractiveness or unattractiveness of 


120 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


make-up and behavior. In these notes distinguish between 
original observations and secondhand information. 

The record of the second part of this study, the comparison 
of breeds, may conveniently be made in the form of a table, 
provided with column headings as follows: 

Name of breed (Plymouth Rock, bantam, etc., if a table 
of common fowl). 

Average weight. 

Average egg production (get data from poultry-yard 
records). 

General color. 

Special ornamentation. 

Comb (make a simple diagram of it). 

Feet (size, color, spurs, feathering, etc.). 

Peculiarities of behavior. 

Other peculiarities. 

Number males kept. 

Number females. 

Kept where. 


XVI. FARM LANDSCAPES 


“T do not own an inch of land— 
But all I see is mine— 
The orchard and the mowing-fields, 
The lawns and gardens fine. 
The winds my tax collectors are, 
They bring me tithes divine.” 
—Lucy Larcom (A Strip of Blue). 


Agriculture is the one great branch of human industry that 
does not necessarily spoil the face of nature. It does not 
‘leave the land covered with slash, or heaped with culm, or 
smeared with sludge, or buried in smoke. It alters and 
rearranges, but it keeps the world green and beautiful. It 
changes wild pastures into tame ones, and substitutes 
orchards for woodlands. Its crops and its herds are good to 
look upon. The beautiful plant or animal is the one that is 
well grown; and farm plants and animals must be well grown 
to be profitable; otherwise there is no goodfarming. Nature 
nourishes impartially wild and tame, and crowns them 
equally with her opulent graces of form and color. The 
farmer has at hand all the materials that nature uses to make 
on the earth an Eden. 

Fortunately, there are some features of the beauty of the 
country that may not be misused. The blue sky overhead, 
and the incomparable beauty of the clouds, are out of reach 
and cannot be marred. Hills and vales, also, and lakes and 
streams, and uplands and lowlands, have all been shaped by 
the titanic forces of nature, and are beyond man’s puny 
power tochange. These are the major features of the land- 
scape. It is only the minor features that are, to any appre- 
ciable extent, within our control: mainly, the living things 
that are the finishings and furnishings of one’s immediate 
environment. These, however, always fill the foreground, 


Tat 


122 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


giving it life and interest. With these one may do much to 
alter the setting of his labors. 

Besides furnishing the farmer with all the materials used 
in her landscape compositions, nature surrounds him with 
good models, from the study of which he may learn their use. 
If he looks to the wildwood about him he will be able to find 
scenes that disclose the elements of landscape beauty. He 
will find sheltering nooks that invite him to come and rest in 
their seclusion; sinuous streams and ctrving paths whose 
gracefully sweeping lines invite his imagination to wander; 
broad levels, whereon his eye rests with pleasure, bordered by 
cumulous masses of shrubbery; tree-covered slopes, with the 
leafage climbing to the summits, here advancing, there 
retreating, everywhere varied with infinite tuftings, full of 
lights and shadows; irregular skylines, punctuated by not 
too many nor too prominent forms of individuality; and all 
organized and unified and harmonizing as component parts 
of the border of the valley of some stream or lake. 

Now the farm is not a natural unit of this larger landscape, 
but only a small section arbitrarily marked out by the sur- 
veyor. With the larger landscape the best one can do is to 
locate, if he may, where the prospect is good. Moreover, the 
curving lines of nature’s pictures and the merging masses of 
her plantings, are not practically applicable to the growing of 
crops. The beauty of the fields must be that of an exhibit, 
the beauty of things isolated, and well grown. 

The unity of the farm plan should center about the place 
where the farmer dwells and where others come and go. It 
will be better for him if the outlook from his window is 
pleasing; it will be better for his community if the inlook 
toward his door from the public road is pleasing. 

About the house the suggestions from nature’s models may 
be freely applied. The lawn may furnish the broad, restful, 
level stretch of green verdure; over its recesses shapely trees 


FARM LANDSCAPES 123 


may cast their inviting shadows; a border of gracefully 
merging masses of shrubbery may inclose the sides and give it 
an aspect of privacy; evergreens may be planted to shut out 
the view of unsightly objects; and the wood-lot may be left 
to cover the distant rocky slope. Fruit trees may be used 
for ornament as well as service; they will grow and bloom and 
bear fruit just as well where they contribute to the beauty of 
the place as where they block the view. And if the roadsand 
fences be not made too conspicuous where they transgress 
natural contour lines, and if buildings be not set up where 
they hide the more pleasing distant prospects, nor painted in 
alarming hues—then one may look at the place without 
lamenting that it has been ‘“‘improved.’’ The most pleasing 
of homesteads usually are not those that have the greatest 
advantage of location, or that have had the most money 
lavished upon them. But they are the places that fit their 
environment most perfectly, and that are planned and 
planted most simply. 

Much bad taste has been imported into our country houses 
from the cities of late. In almost any locality in the eastern 
United States, it is the older houses that have the most 
pleasing setting. They are not exposed on bare hilltops, but 
nestle among great trees with always an outlook across levels 
of green toward distant hills or valleys or strips of blue water. 
They are sequestered a bit from the winds and from the 
public; and as Wordsworth said concerning the older homes 
of the lake country of England (Guide, p. 43), “‘Cottages so 
placed, by seeming to withdraw from the eye, are the more en- 
deared to the feelings.”’ Their decorative plantings are not 
sickly ‘novelties,’ leading a nursling existence, but the hardi- 
est of the hardy plants, that grow and, in their season, bloom 
lustily. The houses are not tall and spindling, but low and 
contented and comfortable-looking. Their roofs are not cut 
up in figures to make an alarming sky line, but, broadly 


124 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


descending, they seem to have but the one simple function of 
keeping out the rain. Their colors are not—at least they 
were not—all the rainbow hues. Sir Joshua Reynolds used 
to say, “If you would fix upon the best color for your house, 
turn up a stone, or pluck up a handful of grass by the roots, 
and see what is the color of the soil where the house is to 
stand, and let that be your choice.” 

The trouble with many homesteads is that no thought has 
ever been taken of the gifts of nature near at hand; how rich 
they are, and how available for use in beautifying the home, is 
little realized. Vistas that would warm an artist’s soul are 
shut out by sheds, unnoticed. The choicest of native plants 
are cut away as “brush.” Buildings are set down helter- 
skelter, facing all ways, at all levels, up and down. The 
boundaries of fields are accidental. Roadshappen. Efficiency 
and beauty are sacrificed together. Both demand that a 
homestead shall fit its environment. Both efficiency and 
beauty need a little planning and forethought. For both, 
a little study of what nature offers in materials and in 
models lies near the beginning of wisdom. 


Study 16. A Comparison of the Outlook of Local Farm 
Homesteads 


The program of work includes a visit to the front approach 
of half a dozen or more near-by farmsteads to see how they fit 
their environment; to see how their builders have treated the 
beauties of the larger landscape, and how they have used 
decorative materials in planting. 

The record of this study may consist of notes on each one 
of the homesteads visited, arranged for each one as follows: 

No. (If the name of the owner be not set down, it will 
matter less whether the remarks be always complimentary.) 

Location. (Thismay, perhaps, best be shown by making a 
little sketch-map of the route, whereon all the places studied 


FARM LANDSCAPES 125 


are shown in relation to the public highways and to the main 
-hills and valleys). 


1. The natural setting; note: 
a) The pleasing views that have been preserved or lost 
in the planning. 
b) The use of nature’s materials to add beauty or hide 
ugliness, or to accomplish the converse. 


2. The artificial arrangements; Note (in so far as visible 
from the approach) : 

c) Concerning buildings, whether they fit the situation, 
look comfortable, bespeak shelter and privacy, 
etc., and whether they are arranged with unity 
and harmony. 

d) Concerning fields and stock-pens, whether they seem 
to belong to the place, and are harmonious with 
each other and convenient in location. 

e) Concerning roads and fences, whether they are made 
to add to or to detract from the beauty of the 
place; whether harmonious or discordant in 
arrangement; etc. 

A general summary and comparison of the places visited 
as to their attractiveness or unattractiveness, and the 
reasons therefor, should, in conclusion, be added. 


Individual Exercises for the Fall Term 


Five studies follow, which are intended to be used by the 
student, individually, andat his own convenience. The data 
called for may be picked up during the course of walks afield 
for air and exercise; but serial or extended observations, 
that cannot all be made in the course of a single class exercise, 
are in all cases demanded. Personal initiative is desired. 
An instructor may be asked to name plants or animals, but 
the student should learn by these exercises to consult nature 
independently. He should work alone, or with not more 
than one or two companions. A good idea of the continuity 
of nature’s processes and of her limitless perseverence in 
carrying them forward can be gained only by oft-repeated 
serial observations. 


Optional Study 1. A Student’s Record of Farm Operations 


It is the object of this study to discover how the farmer as 
an organism fits his environment. The student may learn 
that there is a natural history of the farmer as well as of the 
farm. He may see that the farmer’s affairs, commercial, 
civic, social, and religious, all have their seasons, even as 
leaves have their time to fall; that light and temperature and 
rainfall condition his activities, as they do the growth and the 
labors of his plant and animal associates. 

The work of this study will consist of weekly observations 
extending through the term or year. In such a table as is 
indicated on the next page, there is to be provided one column 
for the observations of each week. The student will need to 
be so situated that he may readily observe week by week 
what the farmers are doing; else he would better omit this 
study, for secondhand information is not desired. 

126 


127 
A STUDENT'S RECORD OF FARM OPERATIONS 


Observed during the week be- 
ginning Sept. 28th Oct. 5th, etc. 


Place of observation 
Relevant weather conditions 
Cereals 

Forage Crops 
Root Crops 
Fruits 

Timber crops 
Other crops 

Live stock 
Poultry 

Other animals 
Soils 


Roads and fences 


Farmers observed doing what with 


Domicile 
Business 
Other Cisse 
activities 
Social 
Misc. 


Footnotes: 


128 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Optional Study 2. Noteworthy Views of the Farm 


The object of this study is merely to set the student to 
observing the beauties of his immediate environment. Let 
him not be troubled about artistic standards. Nature 
furnishes the artist with his models. Art grows, like agricul- 
ture, by the selection and intensifying of the best that nature 
offers. Let the student merely select and locate what appeals 
to him as being good tolook upon. Let him record his choice 
in some such table as is outlined on pages 130 and 131, each 
view after its kind. 


Optional Study 3. Noteworthy Trees of the Farm 


One does not know trees until he knows individual trees; 
until he has compared them, and has noted their personal 
characteristics; has observed the superior crown of this one, 
the symmetrical branching of that one, the straight bole of 
the other one. There are trees that each of us know 
because accidental planting has placed them where we have 
found it convenient to rest in their grateful shade. 
There are fine trees made famous by their historical asso- 
ciations, and endeared thereby’ to a whole people; such 
is the Washington Elm at Cambridge, Massachusetts, the 
tree under which George Washington took charge of the 
colonial armies at the beginning of our war for independence. 
But there are yet finer trees remote from human abode and 
unknown to fame, standing in almost any original forest, that 
appeal as individuals to a naturalist. They are tree per- 
sonages worth knowing. The work outlined in the table on 
page 129 will lead to acquaintance of this desirable 
kind. If the student does not already know the different 
kinds of trees by sight, this study should not be undertaken 
until after the work outlined in class exercise 9 on page 76 has 
been completed. A few subsequent rambles among the trees 
of the farm will then give opportunity for locating and getting 
acquainted with the fine specimens of each species. 


NOTEWORTHY TREES OF THE FARM 


129 


Best specimen I have seen 


NAME 


Location 


Map |Situation 


Chosen fort 


Best viewed 
from 


White Pine 
Hemlock 
Cedar 
Larch 


Conifers 


Oak* 
Hickory* 
Chestnut 
Butternut 
Beech 


Nut-bearing trees 


Birch* 
Maple* 
Elm* 
Ash* 


|/Basswood 


Other trees 


Sycamore 


Tulip tree 


Hornbeam* 


Flowering Dog- 
wood 


REMARKS 


Best bit of woods 


Pine Woods 
Oak Woods 
Elm Woods 
Beech Woods 


General Forest 


Cover 


*Any species, but specify which species. : 
+Symmetry, columnar trunk, type of branching, color, etc. 


130 
NOTEWORTHY VIEWS 


Kind of view For what selected 


1 (|A wide panorama 
2 |A long vista 
3 |A woodland aisle 
4 |Undulating fields 
5 |A small sheltered valley 
6 |A crop in the field 
7 |A meandering brook 
8 |A pond scene 
9 |A waterfall 
10 |Rocky cliffs 
11 |A foliage picture 
12 |A scene withfarm animals 


13 {A snow scene 


14 |A homestead 


Prints, sketches, or diagrams of the views selected 


ON THE FARM 


131 


Location 


Best seen from 


At what time 


may be added to the record, but are not required. 


132 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Optional Study 4. Autumnal Coloration and Leaf Fall 


Probably the grandest phenomenon of nature that is pecu- 
liar to our northern latitude, is the coloration of the woods 
in autumn. All marvel at the display. Few observe it 
carefully. It is the object of this study to direct attention to 
some of the external features of it: the mechanical prepara- 
tion of the leaf for its fall, the changing pigments of the 
residual leaf contents, and the relation of these changes to 
temperature and rainfall, etc. The whole process is a 
wonderful adaptation to meet winter conditions, and how 
admirably nature manages it! She first withdraws all food 
materials from the leaves into the stem and branches. Then 
she starts her wonderful display by elaborating bright pig- 
ments out of the residue. Then she casts the leaves off in 
an orderly fashion, developing breaking points at proper 
places. So she diminishes to a very small percentage the 
area of exposed evaporating surfaces, and thus she conserves 
moisture in the plant body through the long cold season. 
The changing hues of autumn are more orless accidental by- 

products of this process; but they are very beautiful. 

The work of this study should include serial observations 
on a dozen or more of the more brilliantly colored species, 
continued from the first appearance of an autumn tint until 
the last of the leaves have fallen. The same trees should be 
observed day by day, account being taken of the relevant 
weather conditions. Hence, trees, shrubs and vines near at 
hand should be chosen. Those on the lawn are apt to be as 
good as any, since ornamental planting in our day takes 
careful forethought for the autumnal display. 


A CALENDAR OF SEED DISPERSAL 133 


Optional Study 5. A Calendar of Seed Dispersal 


This study is intended to follow the class work of Study 8 
(The November seed-crop, page 69), and to continue through 
the second half of the fall term. A dozen or more of the 
species of plants found at that time holding a full crop of seeds 
should be observed at least once a week during the remainder 
of the term. Thus, nature’s method of conserving the sup- 
ply, and of distributing it according to the needs of her popu- 
lation, may be seen. No great amount of time will be 
required if plants near to one’s daily route to and from work 
be chosen. A specimen of each kind of seeds, inclosed in a 
small envelope and labelled, may be handed in with the 
record of this study, if desired, for greater certainty of 
determinations. The observations may conveniently be 
recorded in a table prepared with the following column 
headings: 

Name (consult an instructor if you do not know the plant). 

Kind of plant (tall herb, low herb, vine, trailer, etc.). 

Seed cluster (illustrate by a simple diagram). 


manner (seeds lost singly, in pairs, in clusters, 
Seed etc.) 
dispersal | agency (wind, water, animals, plant auto- 
matism, etc.) 
seeds first out. 
Date of maximum, dispersal 
final dispersal. 


Remarks 


An additional optional study may be allowed to any 
student who desires to acquaint himself further with the 
local trees, by repeating Study 9 as an individual exercise 
with an entirely new list of tree species. 


AUTUMNAL COLORATION 


CoLor 
Leaf- First appearing 
Nae form? First |Mature| Fading Sete 
tint | tint ate | tints | Where | Where at 
on leaf | on tree Pont 


‘Diagram, including all leaflets if compound. 


?Wet or dry ground, sun or shade, etc. 


AND LEAF FALL 


135 


Condition of 
falling leaves? 


Date of loss of leaves 


Maximum 


Final 


Conditions‘ 
accompanying 
maximum fall 


Remarks 


3As to breakage into pieces, extent of withering, etc. 
4Of frost, wind, rain, etc. 


136 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


THE EXPOSITION 


She and I went to it, the Big Fair. 

We were the whole Attendance. 

It was all under one roof which was called The 
Sky. 

Every day this was rehued by invisible brushes, 
gloriously, 

And at night all lit by countless lights, star- 
shaped, 

And arranged curiously in the form of Dippers 
and things. 

It must have cost a fortune in some kind of rare 
coin 

To do it that way. 

By day the place was vast and very beautiful. 

The far edge of it, all around, was called the 
Horizon. 

Each morning, out of the East, 

A huge golden disk came 

And swung itself slowly up along the arch of the 
sky-roof 

And settled to the Westward, leaving numerous 
glories behind. 

There was a water-place there, a Lake, with an 
Inlet and an Outlet. 

It was not little and brown like those you see in 
Madison Square Garden, 

But big and blue and clean. 

We splashed ourselves in it and laughed, like 
children. 

The Lake had trout in it; 

I saw them leap when the water was still 

And the golden disk was falling. . 

—Richard Wightman. 


PART II 


STUDIES FOR THE SPRING TERM 


XVII. THE LAY OF THE LAND 


“The hand that built the firmament hath heaved 
And smoothed these verdant swells, and sown their slopes 
With herbage, planted them with island groves, 
And hedged them round with forests. Fitting floor 
For this magnificent temple of the sky— 
With flowers whose glory and whose multitude 
Rival the constellations.” 
—Bryant (The Prairies). 

Chief of all land laws is the law of gravity. 

The solid crust of the earth is overspread with a thin film 
of loose materials that collectively we call the soil. How 
thin a film it is as compared with the great mass of the earth! 
Yet it is the abode and the source of sustenance of all the 
life of the land. It enfolds and nourishes the roots of all the 
trees and herbage. It clothes itself with ever-renewing 
verdure. On it we live and move. From it we draw our 
sustenance. We usually mean’ this thin top layer when we 
speak of the land. 

This film of soil covers the rocky earth-crust with great 
irregularity as to distribution and depth; for its materials 
are derived in the main from the weathering of the rocks. 
Alternating frost and sun have broken them to fragments; 
attrition and chemical action have progressively reduced 
the fragments to dust; wind and flood have mixed them 
and mingled with them the products of life and decay. 
Sun and frost and rain and wind and life and decay act 
intermittently, but gravity operates all the time. Weather- 
ing and gravity are the great factors in the modeling of the 
landscape. While weathering gleans the basic soil materials 


137 


138 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


from the solid rock, gravity disposes of them: removes them 
almost as fast as formed from the vertical face of the cliff: 
lets them lie on the level summit: sweeps them down the 
slope: spreads them out over the flood plain, making level 
fields; or carries them far away with the rushing flood to 
dump them into the bottom of the sea, where, removed from 
light and air, they are lost to our use. 

Thus the rugged and geologically ancient outlines of 
topography are softened by erosion and the more level 
places are overspread by a mantle of productive soil. 
Erosion rounds off the sharp edges of the headlands; 
silting fills the low places; delta building covers the shores 
about the mouths of streams; everywhere as time runs on, 
sinuous lines replace the sharp angles, and verdure replaces 
the gray pristine desolation 

Let us go to some good point of outlook, some hill-top or 
housetop or tower, and view the topography of our own 
neighborhood, to see how the land lies. We will let our eyes 
wander slowly from the near-by fields upward to the summit 
of the distant hills, and downward to the level of the valley; 
we will follow the stream that meanders across the valley 
floor, back to its more turbulent tributaries, and on to the 
little brooks that run among the hills. Upland and lowland 
levels, and intervening slopes:—these are the natural divi- 
sions of the land; and their boundaries are all laid down by 
gravity. Water runs down hill, and loosened soil materials 
move ever with it. They may glide unnoticed as tiny films 
of sediment trickling between the clods of the fields; or they 
may move in great masses of earth and stone as a landslide, 
scarring the face of the steep slope; but ever, with the aid of 
water, they move to lower levels, and slowly the form of the 
hill is changed. Flood plains broaden: valleys are filled; 
the slope grows gentler; and the upland plains are narrowed 
by invading rills. 


THE LAY OF THE LAND 139 


Outspread before us as we look abroad over the landscape, 
with its levels of checkered fields, its patched and pie-bald 
hills, its willow-bordered streams and reedy swales, is this 
blanket of soil, which seems so permanent, yet which is 
forever shifting to lower levels. 

Water, descending, follows the lines of least resistance. 
Hence, from every high point, slopes fall away in all direc- 
tions. Some are turned southward toward the sun, and 
are outspread in fields that are warm and dry; others face 
the north, and receive the sun’s rays more obliquely, and are 
shadowy, moist, and cool. Some are exposed to the sweep of 
the prevailing wintry winds; others are sheltered therefrom. 
Some are high and dry; others are low and moist. 

Nature has her own crops, suited to each situation; sedges 
where it is wet; grasses where it is dry; spike-nard in the 
shade; clovers in the sun. None of them alone (as we raise 
plants) nor in rectangular fields, but each commingled with 
others of like requirements, and each distributed according 
to conditions of soil, moisture and exposure. One may see 
how nature disposes them by comparing the life in wet marsh 
and dry upland; or that of sunny and shaded sides of a 
wooded glen.. 

Under natural conditions the soil of the gentler slopes 
remains in comparative rest, for it is held together by a net- 
work of roots of living plants; these never (except under 
the plow) let go all at once. One dies here and there, now 
and then, and adds its contribution of humus to the topmost. 
soil layer. Under natural management, the fields are 
permanently occupied and never exhausted. The richness. 
of the soil is ever increasing. Our stirring of the top soil 
enormously accelerates erosion. Our four-square fields 
and cross-lot tillage are well enough on the upland and low-. 
land levels where conditions are fairly uniform and the 
loosened topsoil cannot slip away into the stream; but. 


140 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


among the hills, they need to be adapted to suit the condi- 
tions found on the steeper slopes. To plow a fertile slope in 
furrows that run up and down its face is to invite the storm 
waters into prepared channels that they may carry the soil 
away. Too often the surveyor’s lines take no account of the 
true boundaries of nature’s fields, and the plowman knows 
not the existence of a law of gravity. Many a green hillside, 
fit to raise permanent crops in perpetuity, has been cleared 
and plowed and wasted in hardly more time than was neces- 
sary to kill the roots of the native vegetation. Fortunate 
is our outlook if the hills round about us are not scarred with 
fields that bear silent testimony to such abuse—fields that are 
gullied and barren, with their once rich top soil, the patri- 
mony of the ages washed away,. 

It is no small part of the glory of many charming inland 
valleys that is contributed by the noble woods that climb 
the side of its bordering steeps. The clearing of such land 
should never be allowed; for rightly managed, it will go on 
raising trees forever (and probably there is no better use for 
it), and the scenic beauty, the restfulness and charm which 
it contributes to the landscape is a valuable public asset. 
Steep slopes may be tilled permanently if the tiller of the 
soil will take a hint from nature and regard the law of 
gravity—if he will run his culture lines horizontally, break 
the slope with terraces, and hold the front of these with 
permanent plantings. Some of the most beautiful land- 
scapes of the old world are found among terraced hills that 
have been cultivated for centuries. But the simpler method 
of holding the soil together by untilled crops—pastures and 
tree crops—is probably more suited to American conditions. 

Fortunate is our outlook, also, if in the midst of thriving 
farms and forested hills, there be left a little bit of land here 
and there that has not been too much ‘‘improved.”” <A bit 
of wildwood, where the brush is not cut nor the swamp 


THE LAY OF THE LAND 141 


drained—a place; preferably near the school, where the native 
life of the land may be found—a sanctuary for the wild birds 
and all the other wild things, plants and animals, to which 
the youth of the rising generations may go in order to see 
what the native life of his native land was like. The wild 
things are rapidly vanishing. Where would one find even 
now a bit of the rich unaltered wild prairie that once over- 
spread the interior of this continent, with its tall, waving 
grasses and all its wealth of wild flowers? 

The landscape belongs to all. Its smiling slopes, or their 
forlorn tatters, affect the public weal. It is good to dwell 
in a place where the environment breeds contentment; 
where peace and plenty grow out of the right use of 
nature’s resources; where smiling fields yield golden har- 
vests, and where well kept home-steads nestle amid em- 
bowering trees; where both the beauty and the bounty 
of nature are acknowledged, and wise measures are taken 
to improve her gifts, and to leave them unimpaired for the 
nurture of coming generations. Men have attained to 
profitable co-operation in many lines of enterprise. May 
the time come when they will be able to co-operate in 
organizing for their best use all features of the larger units 
of their environment; when they will preserve for public 
use the things that meet the common social needs; when 
they will begin to correct the ills that grow out of arbitrary 
and artificial boundaries, by following the lines of nature; 
when they will learn to put all fields to their best use, securing 
productiveness, convenience and beauty. 


s 


142 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Study 17. The Natural Fields of the Farm 


For the purposes of this study a somewhat diversified area 
should be selected, including bottomlands, large or small, 
bordering hills and level uplands, traversed by little streams. 
A map should be provided, showing soil types and all princi- 
pal topographic and cultural features. 

The tools needed will be a pocket compass for taking 
directions, and a 1oo-ft. line, a hand level, and a surveyor’s 
rod for measuring gradients. 


The program of work will consist in: 

1. A trip across the uplands, slopes and flood plains, 
observing their exposure and measuring their gradients. 
Natural adaptations to particular crops, and to choice sites 
for burrows for particular animals, should be noted. 

2. A comparison of the life and conditions in sunny and 
shaded slopes of a wooded ravine. 


The record of this study may consist in: 

1. The map with the natural fields roughly marked out in 
part—+.e., the areas that are much alike in soil, gradient, 
exposure, etc., and that are, therefore, adapted to one kind of 
crop. Mark direction of slope and percentage of grade 
(roughly determined by measuring the descent per hundred 
feet with level, line, and rod at some average place) in each 
field. Mark also on the map the direction of the prevailing 
wind of the season that is most trying to vegetation. 

2. A summary statement as to relative area of each ex- 
posure; also the maximum gradient found under cultivation, 
and the condition of its soil. 

3. A comparison in word or diagram of the two sides of a 
wooded ravine having an East and West direction, as to, 
(a) tall plants, (b) undergrowth plants, (c) moisture, (d) 
accumulation of humus. 


XVII. THE DECIDUOUS SHRUBS OF THE FARM 


“There the spice-bush lifts 
Her leafy lances; the virburnum there, 
Paler of foliage, to the sun holds up 
Her circlet of green berries. In and out 
The chipping sparrow, in her coat of brown, 
Steals silently, lest I should mark her nest.” 
—Bryant (The Fountains). 


The lesser woody plants of the farm have not been held in 
much favor by the farmer. They have not been very useful 
to him, and they have tended to overrun his fence-rows, to 
close up his roadways, and to fill every untilled opening in his 
woodlot with unusable and unsalable stuff. Next to the 
trees, they are, in new soils, the greatest impediment to 
tillage; and unlike the trees, they yield no valuable products 
to repay the labor of clearing the ground. What we call 
shrubs, the pioneer knew by the uncomplimentary name of 
“brush.” 

Still, shrubs have many uses, as every woodsman knows. 
An important use, once made of them by the redmen, is 
indicated by the surviving name, arrow-woods. Before the 
days of manufactured metal nicknacks, the farmer punched 
out the huge pith from pieces of elder and sumac and made 
sap-spouts for his sugar-trees; and in the same way his boys 
obtained tubes for pop-guns and squirt-guns and whistles. 
Annual shoots of willow—willow rods—have long been and 
are still the basis of a great basket industry. Many clean 
growing stems of shrubs make beautiful walking-sticks; but 
this is of no consequence, since few members of our species 
really need three legs to walk on. And there is one use, now 
almost obsolete, but once in high esteem—an educational use, 
that was supposed, by the disciplinarians of the old school, to 
be served by the straight ‘switches’ of a number of shrubs, 


143 


144 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


notably of the hazel. The writer well recalls a district school- 
room and a teacher’s desk behind which stood a bunch of 
straight hazel rods. They were always ready. Their use 
once only was figuratively described as a “‘cup of hazel tea,” 
and their continued use, as “‘a course in sprouts’’. 

A number of our native shrubs produce edible berries, as 
noted in Study 2; such are currants, gooseberries, elder- 
berries, buffalo-berries, nannyberries, blueberries, etc. Hazels 
and filberts produce fine nuts. The best of these edible 
products have been so much improved by selection and care 
that the wild ones are no longer of much importance to us. 
The roots and bark of other shrubs, ninebark, spicebush, 
prickly ash, witch-hazel, etc., are used medicinally. The 
wood of sumach and prickly ash has ornamental uses because 
of the peculiar yellow color. 

But if of no great economic value, these shrubs are very 
interesting to a naturalist. Some of them, like the wild rose 
and the azaleas, have splendid flowers, the flowers of the 
white swamp-azalea being deliciously fragrant; and the great 
clusters of minute flowers on elders, viburnums, spirzeas and 
buttonbush are strikingly handsome. Even in winter, there 
is color in the bushes. The stems of the osier dogwood are of 
a lively red color; those of moosewood and the kerrias are 
light green; and the panicled dogwood gives to any bank it 
overspreads a fine soft purple tint. The persistent fruits of 
such shrubs as snowberry and winterberry add charming 
touches of color to the landscape in winter. The latter is 
especially effective when seen forming a band of scarlet 
around the border of a meadow. 

As with the trees (Study 9), so with the shrubs, winter 
brings the characters of their stems into view. With the fall 
of the leaves, striking differences in the twigs appear. They 
are coarse and remote in sumach and elder and others that 
bear great compound leaves; they are slender and tangled in 


DECIDUOUS SHRUBS OF THE FARM 145 


spireca and blueberry and other small-leaved things. The 
twigs of azalea, witch-hazel, the hobble-bush, the spreading 
dogwood (Cornus alternifolia) and other shrubs of the shade 
tend to spread in horizontal strata; those of the New Jersey 
tea and of willow and others that grow in the sunshine, to rise 
erect. Buckthorn and prickly ash and brambles stand with 
all their naked thorniness revealed. There is the utmost 
diversity of habit, even among those near of kin. Among the 


12 1913 


1913 


Fic. 57. Diagram of the growth of shrubs, showing annual increments. a, an old 
shoot of maple-leaved viburnum, 5b, a young shoot of the same. c, a four-year-old 
shoot of sumac. d, a two-year-old shoot of black-berried elder. 


honeysuckles are arrant stragglers (Lonicera sullivantiz) and 
compactly-growing bushy shrubs (Lonicera canadensis). 
Some shrubs, like azaleas and blueberries, attain their full 
stature by slowly-added annual increments, and others, like 
elder, shoot up stems to full height in a single season. In 
several genera of shrubs, such as blueberries and sumachs, 
there are both giants and dwarfs. 

All shrubs are underlings; they cannot compete with the 
trees. Once in possession of the soil, they can keep trees out 
only by forming so dense a shade that no tree can get a start. 
Once an oak or a maple gets its head above the common level 


146 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


it has the advantage of them, and can suppress them with its 
shade. By the roadside and in the fence-row, where the 
farmer keeps the trees cut down, yet does not plow, there they 
find their best openings. And, indeed, it were better for the 
farmer to raise “brush” in his roadside than to kill the brush 
and raise weeds there to contaminate his fields; better to 
cover the bare and barren slope with soil-conserving shrub- 
bery than to have its soil slipping away into the streams; 
better to fill the border of his lawn with these plants that are 
beautiful in foliage and flower and fruit, than to be forever 
mowing the whole of it. 


Fic. 58. Diagram of buds and leaf scars; a, in black-berried elder; }, in ninebark; 
c, in red osier dogwood and d, in witch-hazel. 


The thing to do with the ‘‘brush”’ is first of all to study it a 
little, and find out what itis good for. If only by its shelter 
it provides nesting sites and keeps some useful and beautiful 
song-birds about the place, it may still be worth while. It 
may also provide food for the birds, if proper shrubs be 
chosen (see page oo). And if rightly used—if used insu 
ways and places as nature’s plantings suggest—it adds much of 
interest and value to any property, in the beauty and grace of 
its flowers and foliage. 


DECIDUOUS TREES OF THE FARM 147 


Study 18. The Deciduous Shrubs of the Farm 


The program of work will consist of a trip for shrubs to the 
places where they grow best: borders of woods, fence-rows, 
or roadside. A dozen or more of the native species found 
should be carefully compared as to characters indicated by 
the headings of the table on pages 148 and 149. 


The record of this study will consist of: 
1. The completed table. 


2. Contrasted diagrams of a few stems from clumps of 
a) a quick-growing, and b) a slow-growing shrub, the annual 
increments of growth to be marked with the years of their 
origin, as in figure 57. The end of each season’s growth 
is usually evident by reason of the clustering of buds at 
the tip, if it be wholly hardy, or, by dead tips with each 
season’s growth starting from lateral buds, if not all the 
growth be matured in any season. Untrimmed wild shrubs 
should be chosen for this. 


3. An annotated list of all the wild shrubs found, 
arranged in the order of their relative abundance in the 
several situations visited as follows: a, shrubs of the 
woodland undergrowth; 6, shrubs of the waterside; 
c, shrubs of the fencerow, and of other open sunny places, 
etc., listing thus separately the shrub-associations of the 
more typical situations visited in the course of the trip 
afield. 


148 


DECIDUOUS SHRUBS 


NAME Height | “eneel 


Growth? 
Habit 


Grows? 
Where 


Twics 


Diameter* 


Color 


Mis 


1 Maximum growth of one season in centimeters. 


2 Erect or spreading, slender, bushy, etc. 
? In sun or shade, wet or dry ground, etc. 


4 Average diameter of an average twig in millimeters. 


5 Clustering of buds, hairiness, thorns, etc. 


14 
OF THE FARM 


BUDS 
REMARKS? 


Form® Color Arrangement? Leaf-scars® 


6 Diagram. 
7 Opposite, alternate or whorled. 


® Note persistence of seed-pods, presence of flower-buds, winter-killing of tips, or other peculiarities 
t elsewhere noted. 


XIX. WINTER ACTIVITIES OF WILD ANIMALS 


“Of all beasts he learned the language, 
Learned their names and all their secrets, 
How the beavers built their lodges, 
Where the squirrels hid their acorns, 
How the reindeer ran so swiftly, 
Why the rabbit was so timid, 
Talked with them whene’er he met them, 
Called them ‘Hiawatha's brothers’.” 
—Longfellow (Hiawatha’s Childhood). 


In winter, Nature puts most of her animal population to 
sleep. In lodge and in burrow and under every sort of 
shelter, they hibernate. This saves food at the season when 
food is most scarce, and removes the less hardy, for a time, 
from the stress of competition. Numerically, it is a very 
small fraction of the total animal life that remains active 
during the winter: only a few birds and mammals. Most 
birds have gone far south, and many mammals lie, like the 
woodchucks, dormant in their burrows. But more than we 
are likely to see, unless we diligently seek them out, are active 
in our midst throughout the season. 

After every snowfall, there is a new record made of the 
winter activity of animals; and anyone, who knows the signs, 
may read it. On the snow, as on a new white page, each 
animal prints its own indisputable narrative. Its footprints 
tell where and whence and howitran. The leavings from its 
luncheon tell what and where and how it ate. The chips 
from its woodworkings, the scales from its huskings, or the 
earth from its diggings, tell how and where and why it labored. 
And if, by mischance, it fell a prey to some fierce foe, its 
blood-stained fur or feathers by the wayside tell how its little 
life ended in a tragedy. 

On the soft snow we may find the “signs” of animals that 
we rarely meet. Where we have seen no rabbits, the brush- 

150 


WINTER ACTIVITIES OF WILD ANIMALS 151 


wood may be overrun with their tracks. Where we have seen 
no snow-birds, the weed patch may be littered with the husks 
from their feeding. If we are beginners in woodcraft, we will 
need to see the animals that make the snow-records in order 
to identify them; but we may perhaps learn the difference 
between tracks of a skunk walking and of one running by 
trying out these gaits, and observing the results, with the 
family cat. Later, knowing what animals are to be expected, 


te Be ia 22 ft 
si o> Yooig 3 
ae oe e 2 
*s, LY e 
et ; ’ 8 
o9 y ae eee 
ry Tos 
3.9 ° e 1 £ Yen 
a BO Sie 2S 
K ° 2 : » a . cen Te 
es n of 
8 & ) Ze 
to FS uv a 
a 6 ‘ 2 a7 
a eg 24 
T Ry > >? 
a a 4 
a 4 
a 6 a ae 
7 
a a 
Fic. 59. Tracks on ba 
the snow of mam- : 2 
mals, walking. a, Fic. 60. The record of a morning excursion of a red 
rabbit; 6, skunk. squirrel in search of a breakfast. Arrow indicates direc- 
(Drawn from tion taken; h, hole where a nut was obtained. (Drawn 
photographs). from a photograph). 


we may identify some tracks by exclusion of the others which 
we have already learned. If the only large birds in a wood 
are grouse and crows, the tracks will differ plainly in the 
position of the foot and in the size of the print of the hind toe. 
Knowledge of number and length and freedom of toes, and 
a knowledge of gaits and postures of body, will be of great 
value in identifying all tracks. 

The “signs” of animals that a woodsman knows are very 
numerous: footprints, tail prints, wing prints (as of a 
strutting turkey gobbler; or the outspread pinions of a bird 
taking flight), dung, marks of teeth in gnawings, bark, 
scales, chips, borings, diggings, detached feathers and hair 


152 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


caught on thorns, etc. Muskrat and deermouse drag their 
tails, leaving a groove on the surface of the snow between the 
double line of footprints. The crow drags his front toe, 
leaving a narrow trailing mark between his sole-prints. 
Tracks are the signs chiefly used by the woodsman, and next 
to tracks, are the evidences of feeding. Where the quadruped 

halts, there are apt to be 
‘ : ; \ found, gnawings of bark, or 


\ ¥ digging of roots, or descents 
1 into burrows, or ascents for 
| i, scouting. The woodsman fol- 

y + lows the animal’s trail, and 

: from such signs as these reads 

his successive doings like a 


y W | book. 
¢ The trails that birds leave 
{ re are less continuous, because 
Pp y 4 q betimes the birds betake them- 
¢ selves to the trackless air; but 
i j in awood where crows feed, one 
\ y may see such diverse things as 
the wastage from their pick- 
ings of sumach and poison-ivy 
Fic. 61; pid tacks; 2. crow; @ berries, corncobs from ears 
brought from a neighboring 
field, leaves of cabbage stolen from some neighborhood garbage 
heap, and fragments of charcoal, which the crows have picked 
from a burnt stump, perhaps to use as a condiment, perhaps 
to improve their complexion. And the birds that work in 
the treetops leave the evidences of their feeding scattered 
about over the surface of the fresh snow beneath the trees. 
Much pleasure may be derived from observing the winter 
activities of wild birds near at hand if one will feed them. It 
is easy to attract them to feeding places within view from 


WINTER ACTIVITIES OF WILD ANIMALS 153 


one’s window. Some of the more familiar little birds, such 
as chickadees, nut hatches and downy woodpeckers, will 
come to the window ledge for food in time of scarcity. The 
chief points to be observed in winter feeding of wild birds are 
these: 

1. To give them food they like—things akin to their natural 
diet. Many birds like the leavings from our tables—crusts 
of bread, scraps of meat, boiled cabbage leaves, bananas, 
nuts, etc. Suet is very attractive to many arboreal birds, 
and if a piece be tacked to a convenient tree trunk under a 
piece of wide-meshed wire netting, the birds can get it a 
mouthful at a time and cannot fly away with the whole piece 
at once. A feeding shelf at one’s window should have a rim 
around it to prevent the food from blowing away, and it may 
with advantage have a roof over it to keep off the snow. 

2. To place the food where birds will go to it. Observe their 
natural feeding places. Grain for wild fowl should be scat- 
tered on the ground in covert places. Hollow ‘‘food-sticks”’ 
filled with fat and nailed up in the trees are irresistible to 
woodpeckers. Sparrows will not feed upon a swinging or an 
unstable support: hence, if they over-run a feeding shelf, 
suspend the food and they will leave it to other birds. 

3. Toavoid unnecessary alarms. The sight or smell of a cat 
will keep birds away from one’s window. So, will excess of 
noise, or undue publicity. The back yard is better than the 
front yard, especially if fruit trees be near; and the feeding 
shelf will be doubly attractive if it be partially screened and 
sheltered by evergreen boughs, and have easy approach from 
neighboring trees. 

At least one sort of winter feeding is of much practical 
importance. Rabbits and mice love to eat the green bark of 
young trees; especially, of apple trees. They girdlesuch trees 
and kill them. So the careful grower protects his trees by 
wrapping their trunks with something inedible, such as wire 


154: NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


cloth or tarred paper. Towards the end of winter, one may 
often see such gnawings on the bases of young trees and 
shrubs in the woods. In maple woods, where porcupines 
run, much bark-stripping is often seen on young trees. 

A large part of the joy of a tramp through winter woods lies 
in being able to interpret these signs and to know what is 
going on. To a naturalist, the woods never seem unin- 
habited; for every path is strewn with the evidences of the 
work and the play, the feasting and the struggles of the 
creatures that dwell therein. 


Study 19. Winter Activities of Wild Animals 


This study is for the time when snow lies an inch or two 
deep upon the ground, and one or more wild winter nights 
have intervened since its fall—such nights as tempt the 
nocturnal mammals to wander from their burrows. Soft 
snow is necessary for the making of distinctive footprints. 

The program of work will consist of a tramp through the 
woods, studying the tracks of birds and mammals, following 
up their trails, determining their direction and speed, the. 
cause or purpose of interruptions, etc.; also observing 
evidences of feeding and the nature of their food. 


The record of this study will consist of two separate lists, 
one for the birds and one for the animals of which “‘signs”’ are 
discovered, with notes on the kinds of “‘signs,’’ and the activi- 
ties indicated by them, their relative abundance, food, etc. 
Both lists should be illustrated with simple diagrams of 
tracks, with direction and gait (whether walking or running) 
indicated. 


XX. THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM 


“Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! 
Of your fibrous roots, O Larch-Treel 
My canoe to bind together, 
So to bind the ends together 
That the water may not enter, 
That the river may not wet mel” 
—Longfellow (Hiawatha’s Sailing). 


Before the days of spinning, what did one do when he 
needed a string? Just what the country boy still does when 
out in the woods. If he has to tie something and lacks a 
string, he borrows one from nature. It may be a tough root 
of tamarack or elm, a twig of leatherwood or willow, a strip of 
willow peel or of the inner bark of basswood. Best of all 
barks is that of young pawpaw trees, which may be stripped 
upward from the base in bark-strings having great length and 
strength and pliancy. 

From using single strips of plant tissues such as these (or 
of more valuable rawhide), transition is easy to the use of 
bundles of strips for tying. The harvestman binds his 
sheaves with a band of grain stems, drawn tightly, the ends 
overlapped, twisted together, and tucked under to form a 
knot. And if a mower wishes to bind up a large bundle of 
hay with short grass stems, he makes a virtue of necessity, 
and twists the short stems together, combining them into a 
**thay-rope’’ of any desired length, and binds his hay with that. 

The hay-rope illustrates a fundamental operation on which 
all textile arts are based. It is elemental spinning—the 
twisting of fibres together to combine their length and 
strength. 

“In Samoa, it is the work of women to make nets chiefly 
from the bark of the hibiscus. After the rough outer surface 
has been scraped off with a shell on a board, the remaining 


155 


156 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


fibers are twisted with the palm of the hand across the bare 
thigh. As the good lady’s cord lengthens, she fills her netting 
needle and works it into her net. . . The example of one 
of the Samoan women twisting, without the aid of a spindle, 
strips of bark into cord is as near to the invention of spinning 
as we may hope to come.’—Mason (Woman’s Share in 
Primitive Culture, p. 68). 

From the tightly twisted grass stems of the hay-rope, it is 
not a long step to binding-twine, made of long cleaned bast 
fibers; nor thence to rope, which is a compound of such 
twines; nor thence to cords and thread, made of shorter, 
softer and finer fibers of linen and of cotton. Itis the twisting 
that grips the overlapped fibers together and holds them by 


Fic. 62. Loosely twisted fibers of coarse twine. 


mutual pressure. Braiding accomplishes the same result for 
a few fibers of uniform size, but even for these it has the dis- 
advantage, as compared with spinning, that it bends the 
fibers more sharply, tending to break them, and yields a 
flat cord, having less pliancy. Both spinning and braiding 
were practised in all lands before the dawn of history. 
Everywhere man had need of strings, longer than any that 
nature offered ready-made. He gathered what he could find 
and combined them, first into coarse cordage, strong enough 
to fetter wild beasts or to bind up the poles of his primitive 
dwelling, and then into an endless variety of finer products, as 
progress was made in the art of spinning. 

Sewing threads were long unspun, and differed in kinds in 
different parts of the earth. Horsehairs served our bar- 
barian ancestors in Europe for their sewing: the shredded 
sinews of the deer served the Indians of the northeastern 
United States; and the fibers of the yucca, those of the south- 


THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM 157 


west. Each yucca fiber terminates at the surface of the leaf 
in a spine which serves as a natural needle, permanently 
threaded; both horsehair and sinew-thread were thrust 
through punctures made with a bone awl—the antecedent of 
the sewing-needle. The stiffness of these fibres was therefore 
an advantage. Every land has its own fiber products, and 
these give character and individuality to its textile arts, not- 
withstanding that braiding and spinning are the same funda- 
mental operations everywhere. 

Simple es is the process of making a cord from loose fibers, 
spinning is one of the greatest of human inventions. Weav- 
ing, the making of cloth by the interlacing of cords thus spun, 
is its complemental art. Spindle and loom are symbols of 
modern civilization; they have done more than almost any 
other mechanical aids, to change the conditions of our living 
from that of our savage ancestry. Yet spindle and loom had 
humble and far-off beginnings. The primitive spindle was a 
smooth stick that could be fastened at one end to a mass of 
loose fibers, and twisted at the other with the fingers, winding 
the fibers into a thread as they were drawn out from the mass; 
or elsewhere it was a suspended whirling bob, that could be 
set in motion with the hand. The primitive loom was a low 
horizontal bough of a tree, with threads of the warp suspended 
from it. The threads of the woof were twined in and out by 
hand. With an equipment only a little more complicated 
than this, some of the finest products of the world’s textile art 
have been produced. 

Birds weave crudely, but they do not spin. They accept 
from nature and use in their nest building a great variety of 
fibers, but they have not attained to the art of lengthening 
their cordage by twisting short fibers together. This is a 
human art. The foundation of an oriole’s nest (fig. 63), con- 
sisting of a few strands of cordage suspended from a twig, is 
not far removed, either in principle or in form, from the warp 


158 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


of a primitive loom, such as women of certain tribes use 
to-day. Into this warp the threads of the woof are woven, 
by the woman with her fingers (aided, perhaps, by a crude 
wooden shuttle), by the bird with its slender beak. If anyone 
think that the weaving of the oriole is not well done, let him 
sit down with an empty 
nest and try to unravel all 
its threads! 

The fiber products used 
by the oriole are such as 
were first used by man for 
textile work—strips of 
bark, strands of bast fibers, 
long hairs from the tails 
of horses and cattle, grass 
stems and leaves; in short, 
anything that nature 
offered, and that had 
sufficient length, strength 
and pliancy. In our day, 
this bird has adopted one 
of the products of our 
spindles, cotton-wrapping 
; twine, for the warp of its 
Ti -03 nscrile gt bis nest bringing @ nest, doubtless finding, 

just as we have found, 
that this is superior for the purpose to anything that nature 
offers ready-made. Perhaps we thus repay an unacknow- 
ledged debt we may be owing this bird-weaver; for possibly 
some poetic soul in an age long gone may have watched 
an”oriole at his labors, as Lowell did: 


“When oaken woods with buds are pink, 


Then from the honeysuckle gray 
The oriole with experienced quest 
Twitches the fibrous bark away 
The cordage of his hammock-nest,”’ 


THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM 159 


and may have taken a hint. At any rate, the earliest of 
human textile products appear to have been hammocks and 
baskets and coarse bags. 

Where did man find his first textile fibers? Doubtless, 
where the oriole found his. He saw the threads of bast flying 
in the wind from the stem of the tattered roadside reed. He 
plucked them and tested them and looked for more. He 
found such fibers were most easily separable from the stems 
that had lain rotting in the pool. So he took the hint, and 
threw other stems into the water to rot and yield their fiber. 
So he continues to do, even to this day. He immerses his 
flax stems to dissolve the plant gums that hold the fiber and 
the wood together; and after a week or two of soaking and 
softening, he removes them from the water, ‘‘breaks’’ them 
“‘scutches’’ them to remove the broken bits of woody stem, 
“hackles” them to separate (by a combing process) the 
“tow’’ from the long, clean fiber, which is then available 
for spinning into linen thread and for weaving into cloth. 

By similar treatment, bast fiber is obtained from hemp 
and jute and other plants having annual stems. Wild 
. “Indian hemp” or dogbane (Apocynum cannabinum) fur- 
nished bast fiber to the aborigines in the northeastern United 
States before the coming of the white man. Other wild 
plants having good bast fibers are swamp milkweed (Asclepias 
tncarnata), marshmallow (Hibiscus moscheutos), stamp- 
weed (Abutilon avicenne), nettle (Urtica gracilis), burdock 
(Arctium lappa), sunflower (Helianthus annuus), etc. Many 
other plants produce good bast fibers, which vary much in 
length, strength, ease of separation and adaptability to 
manufacture. We have learned how to handle profitably a 
very few products of the many that nature offers. 

This is even more true of the cottons, which grow as single- 
celled fibers upon the surfaces of seeds. One species only 
we have learned to spin, tho we know many others, such as 


160 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


cottonwood, thistle 
and milkweed, produc- 
ing fiber abundantly. 
The fiber products 
of the world’s farms 
are exceeded in value 
only by the food pro- 
ducts. The chief ani- 
mal fibers are, in the 
order of value, wool, 
silk: and hair: the 
chief plant fibers are 
cotton, flax and hemp. 
None of the plants or 
animals concerned is Vou seeds issuing from milk- 
native to our soil. 
We have not found out how to use any of the native fiber 
products with profit. In this, as in so many other fields, 
the great discoveries of nature’s material resources were 
made by our forefathers in other lands and in a far distant 
age, antedating history. . 
The chief use for fiber products is found in the making of 
textiles. After feeding people, the next sure good, accord- 
ing to Ruskin, is in clothing people; and this demands great 
quantities of textiles. The kinky fibers of wool lend them- 
selves ideally to the spinning process. They will hang 
together in simple yarns which may be knit or woven into 
warm clothing for cold climates. The soft fibers of linen 
make clothing that is cool and that may readily be kept 
clean for summer use. The shorter and finer fibers of cotton, 
being produced in greatest abundance, make the cheapest of 
clothing and are used in the greatest variety of ways, alone 
and in combination with wool, flax and silk. 


THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM 161 


Next in importance is the making of cordage. Ropes and 
the coarser twines consume the longest and strongest of the 
fiber products, such as manila and sisal; and silk fibers are 
used to make the finest fishing-lines. 

Next in importance are, probably, upholstering and 
stuffing fibers. Fibers for this use are such as do not lend 
themselves readily to the spinning process: horsehair, 
“Spanish moss”’ fiber, kapok, ‘“‘tow”’ (separated in the hack- 
ling of flag from the better fiber), etc. The long, silky cotton 
of our common milkweeds, often used for filling fancy pillows, 
is an excellent example. Its fiber is too smooth and straight 
and brittle for spinning, but its lightness and elasticity make 
it excellent for filling pillows. 

Another extensive use for fibers is found in the binding of 
plastering and mortar. Of old, straw was used in the making 
of huge bricks, to bind the clay and preserve their form while 
drying. On many cabins in the South today, there are 
stick-chimneys plastered with clay that is held together 
by “Spanish moss” fiber. The moss is fermented in heaps to 
lay bare the fiber, which is then washed clean and chopped in 
short lengths and kneaded into the clay before being applied to 
the inner walls of the chimney. The moss fiber helps to hold 
the clay in place when it is newly applied, and prevents its 
cracking later. For like reasons, cow-hair (which is too short 
and smooth for spinning) is commonly mixed with the 
“binding” coat of plaster that is first applied to the walls of 
our houses. The hair is cleansed of grease and evenly mixed 
with the mortar in such quantity that when the latter is 
lifted on a trowel, some of it will hang over the edges without 
falling off. Wood fiber is substituted for hair in some modern 
ready-mixed plasters. Short, straight and strong fibers, to 
which plaster will adhere closely, are demanded for this use. 

It is interesting to note how the birds have anticipated us 
in all these uses of fibers. The oriole uses the longest fibers 


162 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


it can find for cordage. Many birds weave shorter fibers into 
the walls of their nests. Most birds find suitable upholster- 
ing fibers for cushioning the eggs—horsehair or feathers or 
thistledown. And the robin mixes grass blades and bast 
fibers with the clay out of which he builds his mud nest. The 
birds know how to find proper raw material in great variety. 
Let us in the following study examine some of these un- 
developed fiber resources. bb 1 


Study 20. Native fiber products 


This is a study for the day when the weather is most un- 
favorable for field work; when the cold is too bitter or the 
blast too fierce for prolonged work outdoors. Then, certain 
fiber products may be gathered quickly and taken inside for 
examination; but a satisfactory range of materials for this 
work may be had only by gathering some of them in advance. 

1. Nests of birds, especially of Baltimore orioles. These 
nests are easy to find in winter, being suspended conspicu- 
ously from elm boughs high above the roads, but they are not 
easy to reach. The twigs bearing them may be clipped off 
with a long-handled pruner. 

2. Nests of mice, especially of deer mice. These are built 
in the branches of bushes in the woods. 

3. Cotton-bearing seeds of milkweed, etc., should be 
gathered in autumn at the ripening of their pods. 

4. Herbaceous stems may be gathered for their bast fiber 
at any time after maturing, and some, such as dogbane and 
milkweed, should be gathered as a part of this exercise; but 
in order to obtain the bast readily, the stems should have been 
gathered earlier and ‘“‘retted’’ for a week or more (as neces- 
sary, according to species) in water. 

5. Coarser fibrous materials in variety. The bast strips 
of linden are obtained by stripping the bark from young 
trees in midsummer, when full of sap, and drying it thor- 


THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM 163 


oughly. Thereafter, at any time after soaking in water, the 
soft inner strands separate readily. Another fiber of unique 
sort is found in the skeleton cords of the rootstock of bracken 
fern. These may be separated from freshly dug rhizomes, by 
breaking with a hammer and stripping the cords clean. 


The program of work for this study may consist of: 

1. An examination of the fibers used in the nest-building 
of birds and animals. 

‘2. An examination of the fiber products collected and 
prepared from native plants and animals, and comparisons 
with the fibers that are used in staple commercial products, 
such as ropes, yarns and twines. The actual use of some of 
these fiber products in spinning and weaving may be demon- 
strated, preferably with the simplest forms of apparatus, 
and products made therefrom may be shown. 

The record of this study may consist of: 

t. Notes on the kinds and character, and diagrams of the 
use, of fibers used by birds and animals in nest-building. 
Each species of bird or animal should be treated separately. 

2. An annotated list of all the native fibers studied. The 
notes should state the source and nature of the fibers, their 
length, strength and other qualities, their uses and limita- 
tions, etc. 


Another study on the coarse unspun materials for Plazting, 
Mat-making and Basketry, may be made on similar lines, with 
similar lists of materials for its record. The things needed 
for this will be splints, withes, rods, reeds, sweet-grass, 
rushes, corn-husks, quills, thongs, etc. Suggestions may be 
had from the study of nests of birds and animals, and of the 
primitive products of the Indians of our own region. On 
the latter, The Handbook of North American Indians edited 
by Dr. F. W. Hodge (Bull. 30, Bureau of Amer. Ethnology, 
2 vols. Washington, 1912) is a mine of information. 


XXI. THE ICE-COAT ON THE TREES 


“First there came down u thawing rain 

And its dull drops froze on the boughs again; 
Then there steamed up a freezing dew 

Which to the drops of the thaw-rain grew; 


And a northern whirlwind, wandering about 
Like a wolf that had smelt a dead child out, 
Shook the boughs thus laden and heavy and stiff, 
And snapped them off with his rigid griff.” 
—Shelley (The Sensitive Plant). 


Winter imposes some hard conditions upon tree life. In 
the ‘frozen north” there are no trees; and in our temperate 
clime there are only those that are able to withstand a long 
period of inactivity, a succession of freezings and thawings, 
and the heavy mechanical stresses imposed by high winds 
and snow and ice. The majority of our woody plants have 
met the difficulties of the situation by dropping their leaves 
on the approach of winter. Most of the tall conifers have 
adjusted themselves to bear winter’s white burden. While 
retaining their leaves, they spread their branches horizontally 
in whorls around a single axis, and when the snow bends 
them, the higher branches rest upon the lower from top to 
bottom in mutual support. As John Burroughs poetically 
puts it, ‘“The white pine and all its tribe look winter cheerily 
in the face, tossing the snow, masquerading in arctic livery, in 
fact, holding high carnival from fall to spring.” 

The severest test of the strength of a tree comes not from 
snow, but from ice; it comes not when the weather is coldest, 
but when there has been a thaw, and the thermometer is 
hovering around the freezing point. When the air is full of 
moisture, and the trees have been suddenly cooled by radia- 
tion, the water freezes to them, completely encasing them in 
ice. This usually happens toward nightfall; and if it con- 


164 


THE ICE-COAT ON THE TREES 165 


tinues long, the morning light discloses scenes of marvelous 
beauty. The orchard has become a veritable fairyland. 
Each slender stem is a column of crystal on which, at every 
bud and angle, is a prism dispensing rainbow colors. The 
drooping ice-encrusted sprays are like wreaths of sparkling 
jewels, and all the world is a-glitter with innumerable points 
of light. 

But this brilliant display is a heavy burden on the trees; 
the stout twigs of sumach and elder bear it easily, but the 
slender twigs of birch and willow are bent prone, and matted 
together in a network of ice. Boughs, rightly placed for 
mutual support, become welded together by a common 
incrustation; but unsupported boughs are often broken by 
the sheer weight of the ice. And if to this burden, there be 
added the stress of rising winds, then great havoc may be 
wrought in the woods. 

The thickness of the ice covering the stems is much affected 
by their character and position. Since the water condenses 
upon them and tends to gather in drops before it freezes, 
smooth erect stems gather less ice because the water slips 
away from them; while rough or horizontal stems acquire a 
thicker crust, and every downwardly directed point or angle 
is tipped with an icicle. Thus Roberts might write in his 
“Silver Show”’: 

“The silvered saplings bending 
Flashed in a rain of gems 


And amethysts and rubies 
Adorned the bramble stems.”’ 


Slender twigs are usually tough and pliant and not easily 
broken: moreover they grow densely, and being more or 
less interlaced, they lend each other mutual support. The 
hedge becomes one long fenestrated wall of crystal, the twigs 
being encased and conjoined with ice in all directions. So 
joined, the ice supports the twigs; and not the twigs, the ice. 


166 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Since thawing begins at the top and liberates first the upper 
branches, little damage results unless winds arise to break the 
ice-supports. Yet the smallest of the woody plants, even 
those slender supple things, that may lie prone under such a 
burden and rise again afterward unharmed, are imperiled by 
the ice; for a passing foot may snap their stems when ice 
laden, instead of brushing them aside. 

Fortunately, the ice-coat, tho it does much damage, always 
confers some benefits on the trees, It prunes them of dead 
branches. Rotting of the trunk begins wherever a dead 
branch persists too long. The ice greatly aids in their 
removal. 


Study 21. Observations on the Ice-coat and Its Effects 


This is a study to be made only when nature prepares the 
conditions. The ice-coat on the trees comes unannounced, 
and is often very transient: sometimes an hour’s sunshine 
will dispel it. Sieze the opportunity, therefore, when it 
comes, shifting other studies if need be. The equipment 
needed will be a few pocket scales (spring balances) and some 
means of melting ice quickly, preferably a blow torch. 

The program of work will consist of observations on the 
thickness, weight and distribution of the ice, and of its effects 
on trees and shrubs of different sorts. Measurements should 
be made of its thickness. Branches should be weighed, first 
laden with ice and again after the ice has been removed, to 
determine the load that the ice imposes. If a recent snow- 
fall cover the ground so that newly fallen twigs can be noted, 
gather the twigs under different kinds of trees, and note the 
relative number of dead and living, and which sorts of woody 
plants are most affected. 

The record of this study must be made up in part to suit 
the conditions obtaining. If the ice be heavy or wind arise 
while it is on, the breakage of the trees should be recorded. 


THE ICE-COAT ON THE TREES 167 


In any event, the results of the weighings and measurements 
above mentioned should be included and the beneficial effects 
in pruning of dead branches and twigs, and the harmful 
effects of breakage of twigs on trees of different sorts, should 
be recorded. 

Specific assignments of work to be done is, therefore, left to 
the instructor. 


An additional study on The Snow-Coat of the Trees may be 
made immediately after the fall of a soft heavy snew, before 
it is disturbed by either wind or sun. Many of the same 
phenomena noted in the preceding outline will be observable. 
There will be little damage to the trees observed; for the 
snow, loosely piled, is easily dislodged. It is heaped up on 
every possible support, and the differences in the aspect of 
the trees is due to the differences in the nature of the support 
for the snow that they offer. Horizontal boughs are con- 
tinuously robed in white; erect boughs bear segregated snow 
masses in their forks. Every stub and angle and bud is snow- 
capped. Little hillocks of snow rest upon the upturned fruit 
clusters of sumach and wild carrot, and equally upon 
the pendent clusters of ninebarks and mountain ash. The 
bushy crown of close-growing shrubs are wholly enveloped in 
a meshwork of white; so, also, are the interlacing sprays of 
witch-hazel and spreading dogwood. Great masses of white 
rest upon the declining boughs of hemlocks and other ever- 
greens; and each of these masses in the spruce terminates in 
blunt finger-like processes, and looks like a great clumsy glove 
backed with ermine. The color contrasts which the snow 
makes with the dark boughs of the oaks, with the red twigs 
of the osier dogwoods, and with the scarlet fruit of bar- 
berries, are charming. Observing and recording such things 
as these is a pleasant occupation for a still winter morning fol. 
lowing a snowfall, when the out-of-doors is like a fairy land, 


XXII. MAPLE SAP AND SUGAR 


“T wonder if the sap is stirring yet, 
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate, 
If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun 
And crocus fires are kindling one by one: 
Sing, robin, sing; 
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring’. 
—Christina C. Rossetti (The First Spring Day). 


When our forefathers came to America, they found one 
branch of the world’s sugar industry indigenous here. The 
making of both syrup and sugar from the sap of the maple 
tree had been practiced from time immemorial by the Indians. 
Maple sugar was the commonest delicacy in their rather plain 
and unattractive bill of fare. It appealed to the white man’s 
palate, and, after furs and corn, it became one of the common- 
est articles of barter and of commerce. It was especially 
important to the early white traders along the St. Lawrence 
river, for that stream traverses the heart of the maple sugar 
region. The white man learned to make it, and soon it was 
used in all the households of the pioneers. In the north- 
eastern part of the United States and in adjacent portions of 
Canada, maple sugar was for several generations the only 
sugar to be had. 

The aboriginal sugar-maker cut a hole through the bark of 
the maple tree, and collected the sweet sap that flowed there- 
from in vessels made of bark. Then he separated the water 
from the sugar, in part by freezing (removing the cakes of ice 
that formed on the surface of the vessel), and in part by 
evaporation. His methods were crude, and his product was 
dark colored and dirty; but it was sweet and wholesome. 
The dirt it contained was mostly clean dirt—bits of bark and 
chips and insects that fell into the sap, extracts from the bark 
containers, and decomposition products of the sugar itself. 


168 


MAPLE SAP AND SUGAR 169 


Before the Indians, there were many animals that had dis- 
covered the springtime sugar supply of the maple trees: sap- 
suckers, that tap the trunks in the neatest 
and most methodical and least injurious 
way imaginable (fig. 65); and porcupines, 
that strip the bark disastrously from young 
trees, killing them outright; and red 
squirrels, that gnaw little basins in the 
upper surface of horizontal boughs and, 
when these fill with the sap, come to the 
Fic. 65. A sap-sucker basins for a soft drink (fig. 66). And 

My lines of rerfora. When these larger creatures set the sap 

a: flowing, there are innumerable lesser 
creatures, mostly flies and beetles, that come in swarms to 
be partakers with them. 

This store of sweets is the accumulated food reserve of the 
preceding season. It is stored as starch when the leaves are 
active, to be transformed into sugar and dissolved in the 
sap in early spring. When, at the approach of warmer 
weather in February and March, the days are warm and 
bright and the nights clear and frosty, changes of pressure 
in the vessels of the trees, due to the great diurnal changes 
of temperature, 
set the sap flow- 
ing. 

The warm 
sunshine on the 
treetops ex- 
pand the air in 
the trunks and 
increases the 
internal pres- 
sure. so that 


co Fic. 66. <A squirrel drinking sap as it exudes from a maple 
from any 1ncis- bough (after Cram). 


170 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


ion made through the bark, from every wound or 
broken twig, the sap flows copiously. It flows first on 
the south side of the tree, where the sun shines, and it 
flows most copiously during the warmer part of the day. 
It ceases at night when the treetop is cooled and the 
pressure equalized. It slackens on cloudy days, and 
ceases altogether when the ground gets warmer. The longer 
the period of alternating bright sunshiny days and sharp 
frosty nights, the greater the amount of sap obtainable. 
The greater, also, is the drain of the food reserve of the 
tree: but the provident maples store more than they need, 
and they are not injured by the loss of such amounts as may 
be obtained by proper tapping. They often have to meet such 
losses through natural causes—such as the tappings of the sap- 
suckers, and the “‘bleeding”’ from the stubs of broken boughs. 

Other deciduous woody plants lose their sap in similar 
ways, Every vine-grower knows that grape vines, trimmed 
at the time of abundant sap-flow, ‘‘bleed”’ profusely from the 
base of every branch removed—so profusely, indeed, that the 
plant may be weakened by such inopportune treatment. Ash 
and elm and beech and butternut and other deciduous trees 
will yield sap in its season, but only a few of the maples yield 
a sap that is sufficient in quantity, rich enough in sugar, and 
sufficiently well flavored to be important to us. The sugar 
maple is the best maple, both in yield and in quality of 
product: a variety of it known as the black maple, is 
especially esteemed by many growers. Red and silver 
maples yield a copious, but more watery sap. The Oregon 
maple is a western species from which a little sugar is made. 
The yield of the lesser maples and of the related box-elders is 
of no consequence. Most tree-saps, on evaporation, will 
yield some sort of a sweetish treacle; but only the maples 
yield palatable syrups and sugars, whose flavor is improved 
by the non-sugary natural substances present in the sap. 


MAPLE SAP AND SUGAR 171 


The tapping of a maple tree, besides draining it of sap, 
leaves an open wound in its trunk. It is essential to the 
continued welfare of the tree that the tapping be done so as to 
expose the interior as little as need be to the attack of fungi 
and insects. A small hole, that will heal over completely in a 
single season, is usually no more injurious than are the 
perforations of the sapsuckers. Such a hole is nowadays 
bored in the trunk with a sharp bit. 
It is slanted slightly upward, for easy 
drainage. Itis bored through the sap- 
wocd only, since the sap-flow comes 
from the outer layers and not from the 
heartwood. <A galvanized iron sap- 
spout, having a hook to carry a pail, 
is driven into the hole and left there 
during the sap-gathering season. The 
sap collected is freed of its water by 

evaporation, and freed of various 
Fe OT Oe ee ite ofa tndesirable products by skimming the 
ree Snanaugurhele, surface as they are raised by boiling. 
Pie ee cor The owner of a “sugar bush” performs 
white, the heart wood is these operations in the great furnace- 
heated evaporating pans of his 
sugar house. The small boy does them on his mother’s 
kitchen range; and if he knows the traditions of the sugar- 
camp, he is sure to try pouring some of his syrup, when it is 
thickening into sugar, out in little driblets upon the surface of 
clean snow, where it will harden into that most delicious con- 
fection known to the initiated as ‘‘maple wax.” 

We live in a day of abundant sweets. Nature has always 
produced sugars in the juices of many plants, but we have 
only recently learned how to obtain them in quantity and 
how to purify them and prepare them for keeping and for use. 
New methods of manufacture and refining, and added 


172 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


sources of supply, have enormously increased and cheapened 
the product, and what was but recently a luxury in diet has 
become a necessity. The sugar increase has all come from 
herbaceous plants, that may be quickly grown—mainly sugar 
cane and sugar beets. Doubtless these have permanently 
occupied the field and maple sugar and syrup will never again 
be staple products. Once they were groceries: now they 
are confections. 

Sugar-making has gone the way of all the home industries, 
and it is hard for the youth of to-day to realize with what keen 
interest and enthusiasm, all members of the household, 
entered into the operations of the sugar camp*. We know 
the sugar maple mainly as a shade tree, long-lived, hardy, 
clean, strong-growing, with beautiful heavy foliage. But the 
pioneer and the red man knew it as the source of his chief 
delicacies. Bound up with it are many fine traditions, both 
of our own race, and of our predecessors on this continent. 
If we could realize the poverty of sweets in the Indians’ bill 
of fare, then we might understand why he counted the sugar 
maple one of the good gifts of the Great Spirit to his people; 
why he reverenced it and made it an object of his simple 
nature-worship. 


Study 22. The Sap-flow and Its Beneficiaries 


There is but a short time at the very beginning of spring, 
when nights are sharp and frosty and days bright and sun- 
shiny, that an abundant flow of sap may be obtained from the 
trees. Take advantage of it, shifting other studies if need be. 

The tools needed for the work will be a sharp half-inch bit 
and brace for tapping trees, a supply of galvanized metal sap- 
spouts to fit holes, and of pails (paraffined paper pails will do, 


*Some suggestion of it may be obtained by reading Mrs. Comstock’s 
excellent account ot maple-sugar making in her Handbook of Nature- 


Study, pp. 739-741. 


MAPLE SAP AND SUGAR 173 


if water tight) to hang on the spouts and receive the sap; 
also a cyanide bottle (see p. 218): these tools are mainly for 
common use. Also little individual tin spoons or straws 
for use in tasting sap. 


The program of work will consist of: 


1. Tapping trees. Bore the holes with inclination slightly 
upward until heartwood appears in the chips. Tap all the 
different maples available and a few other trees as well, and 
collect and taste their saps. Tap one tree on north and south 
sides and compare sap-flow. Tap other trees with one hole 
only. 

2. Observing sap-flow from natural wounds, from tap- 
pings of birds, from gnawings of animals and from broken 
green boughs and twigs. 


3. Observing the animals that take advantage of the sap- 
flow. Birds and animals may be seen feeding at their own 
tappings. If there be snow on the ground, the tracks of 
animals about the places where sap flows down the trunks to 
the ground will tell of nocturnal visitors that have a “sweet 
tooth.” Insects will be found swarming in the sunshine to 
every flowing wound: bees and flies and beetles of many 
sorts. These may be picked up in a cyanide bottle. 

The gathering of the sap from the pails difring the entire 
period of flow, and the evaporation of it, are tasks too pro- 
longed for a class exercise, and should be arranged for by the 
instructor. The making of syrup or sugar from the sap is 
accomplished by boiling to evaporate the excess water and 
skimming to remove floating impurities, and may be done 
indoors or out, and in amounts large or small by anyone. 
For syrup, the sap should boil until a thermometer immersed 
in it (not touching the sides or bottom) registers 219 degrees 
Farenheit; for sugar, until it registers 238 to 240 degrees. 
After reaching this temperature, the fluid sugar should be 


174 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


removed from the fire, stirred for a timie to secure uniformity 
of granulation, and then poured into small moulds of any sort, 
paper or tin, to harden. No suggestions as to the disposition 
of the product will be needed. 


The record of this study may consist of: 


1. A diagram of the apparatus in place in a tree that is 
properly tapped, with explanations. 


2. Notes on the sap of the various trees tested, as to its 
quality and abundance. 


3. Lists of the animals attracted by the sap-flow; with 
notes on their abundance, and their times and manner and 
place of feeding. 


“Strong as the sea and silent as the grave it ebbs and flows unseen; 
Flooding the earth,—a fragrant tidal wave, with mists of deepening 
green.’”—John B. Tabb. 


XXIII. NATURE’S SOIL-CONSERVING 
OPERATIONS 
“Behold this compost! behold it well! 
Perhaps every mite has once formed part of a sick person—yet behold! 
The grass of spring covers the prairies. 


The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all ess strata of 
sour dead. 


Now I am terrified ut the Earth! itis that calm and patient, 
It grows such sweet things out of such corruptions, 
It turns harmless and stainless on its axis, with such endless successions of 
diseased corpses, 
It distils such exquisite winds out of such infused fetor, 
It renews with such unwitting looks its prodigal annual sumptuous crops, 
It gives such divine materials to men, and accepts such leavings from them 
at the last.” 
—Walt Whitman (The Compost). 

Nature’s system of cropping is on a permanent basis. 
Her soils do not “run out.”’ She puts back into them regu- 
larly all that she takes out of them, anda little more. All the 
mineral substances go back to the soil whence they came, and 
with them, in the humus, goes carbon that was derived from 
the atmosphere. There is loss of some valuable soil material 
through leaching and floods, but the gain is greater than the 
loss, and the longer her crops are grown, the more fertile the 
soil becomes. 

Nature holds the soil together by occupying it fully. She 
grows mainly permanent crops. They are always mixed 
crops; and the mixture is so varied that there is always 
something to grow in every situation. The soil is held with 
roots, and the dead herbage i is held by the tough stems of the 
living; it is rapidly disintegrated and the mineral residue is 
fed to the roots again. Thus the food supplies of her vast 
population are used over and over, and between times of use, 
are scrupulously hoarded. 

Nature practices tillage, and on a vast scale, but it is not 
our sort of rapid and wasteful tillage. It is slow soil-mixing, 


175 


176 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


that does not extensively destroy the roots nor remove 
ground-cover. She fines the surface with the heav- 
ing of winter frosts. She 
stirs the deeper parts by 
the borings of earthworms, 
by the excavating of burrows 
for the homes of mammals, 
and by the overturn of the 
roots of windfall trees. It 
is here a little and there a 
Fic. 68. Diagram of a section of a partly little, but in the long run it 

wooded hill. /, original contour of the , 

hill slope;_m, contour assumed after 1S thoroughly done. 

tilling of the fields; x2, in-wash of soil 

above; and o, out-wash of soil below. We can see the contrast be- 

tween nature’s soil manage- 

ment and our own on almost any slope where both fields and 
woodsoccur. Wherever their boundariesrun horizontally, such 
contours as are indicated in figure 68 result from the rapid 
slipping away of the topsoil of our tilled fields. A ridge is 
formed along the edge of the wood when the bare field lies 
aboveit: the soil washed from the field is held by the ground 
cover herbage at the edge of the woodland. When the field 
lies below, a hollow is formed at the edge of the wood where 
the tree roots cease to hold the soil together. To be sure, 
gravity is always operating, and the soil of the woods is slowly 
shifting to lower levels; but it is only inthe fields, where the 
ground-cover is removed and the root-hold periodically 
broken, that the process goes on so rapidly that the soil seems 
to melt and vanish before our eyes; it is only here and with 
very bad management, that the organic products of one 
season are all taken from it before the next season comes 
around. 

Let us go into the woods and look at the soil there. The 
first thing we notice is that there is little soil to be seen—only 
a few paths kept bare by passing feet. Here and there are 


s~ 


Freep 


NATURE'S SOIL-CONSERVING OPERATIONS 177 


little patches of mosses or other low herbage, but nearly all 
the levels are overspread with leaves, and under the leaves is 
leaf-mold. Here is humus in the making. Let us examine 
the bed of leaf mold: On top, the leaves are well preserved 
and show clearly by their form on what kinds of trees they 


Fic. 69. A skeletonized leaf of cottonwood. 


grew. Some leaves, such as those of oaks, that contain much 
tannin are resistant to decay, and those of two seasons may 
remain unrotted. But other leaves, such as those of elm, 
decay so quickly that they will not outlast the first winter. 
In some, such as those of maple and cottonwood (fig. 69), the 
veins resist decay so much longer than the blade that the 
leaves become beautifully skeletonized. In the lower strata 


178 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


such leaves will be found. Commingled with the leaves are 
pieces of stems and bark and twigs. Strips of birch bark 
long persist, being rendered well-nigh moisture-proof by 
their abundant resin. 

Under the recognizable leaves and twigs is humus, formed 
from those that fell earlier. It is black and full of moisture. 
It is mingled with the top layers of the soil. As we uncover 
the floor of the leaf-beds, we see some of the agents nature 
uses in promoting the formation of humus: molds and 
mildews and other fungi of many sorts. that grow in and dis- 
integrate the plant-stuffs; snails and earthworms and mille- 
pedes and pill-bugs and spring-tails and many insect larve 
that eat them. Carnivores are here, also; ground-beetles 
and centipedes and spiders, among the lesser forms, and 
salamanders and shrews, among those of larger size. The 
beds of leaf-mold have a population of their own. All are 
hastening the restoration of the useful plant materials to the 
soil. Numberless roots are holding the humus together. 
They never let go; this is nature’s way of keeping the soil 
productive. It is only after we have dug down through the 
humus-stained top layers that we come to soil that looks 
like that in the fields. 

Not in the woods alone, but also in the wild meadow and 
on the prairie, nature practices admirable economy in the 
use of her soil-riches. Gravity aids in the enrichment of 
the lowlands, but in spite of gravity the soil of the hills 
improve as time runs on and wild crops grow upon them. 

In holding what is"gained the deep-rooting forest-cover is 
not more useful than is the turf-forming ground-cover her- 
bage. Great and small are colaborers, in nature’s plan. 
Her method is conservation with [use—the fullest possible 
use—the use that brings the greatest good to the greatest 
number, and that insures the*continued welfare of a teem- 
ing population. 


NATURE'S SOIL-CONSERVING OPERATIONS - 179 
Study 23. Observations on Leaf-mold and Woodland Soil 


For this study, digging tools of some sort for individual use 
should be provided; light brick-layers’ hammers will do. 
Vials or other containers, in which to keep specimens pending 
identification, will also be useful. 


The program of work will consist of: 

1. Uncovering the soil in a leaf-bed in the woods, noting 
the materials of its composition and their condition at differ- 
ent depths; also its population, as evidenced by the presence 
of some animals and the “‘signs’’ of others. 

2. Digging two holes down into the subsoil, one in the 
woods and the other in the open field, carefully noting the 
color condition and contents of the strata encountered. 

3. Observing the agencies concerned in the mixing of the 
soil in the woods. 


The record of this study will consist of: 

t. Notes on the leaf-bed as to: 

(a). Its components and their state of preservation. 
(b). Its population and the relative size and abun- 
dance of its resident organisms. 

2. Comparative diagrams of vertical soil-sections in woods 
and in field, with notes on such differences as the diagrams do 
not show. 

3. Diagrams of soil disturbance: 

(a). At the mouth of an animal’s burrow (section). 
(b). At the root of an overturned tree. 


XXIV. THE PASSING OF THE TREES 


“My heart is awed within me when I think 
Of the great miracle that still goes on, 
In silence, round me—the perpetual work 
Of the creation, finished, yet renewed 
Forever. Written on thy works I read 
The lesson of thy own eternity. 
Lo! all grow old and die—but see, again, 
Low on the faltering footsteps of decay 
Youth presses—ever gay and beautiful youth 
In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
Wave not less proudly that their ancestors 
Moulder beneath them. Oh, there is not lost 
One of earth’s charms: upon her bosom yet, 
After the flight of untold centuries, 
The freshness of her far beginning lies 
And yet shall lie.” 


—Bryant (Forest Hymn) 

What becomes of the giants of the forest when they fall? 
A wise man of old said, “In the place where the tree falleth 
there shall it lie.’ Yes, if it escape the woodcutter, it lies 
there; but it does not lie very long. The great oak that 
crashes to earth, crushing everything in its path, lies but one 
growing season ere the underlings are green above it: afew 
years more, and they are crowding into the upper light that it 
once monopolized. Its building up was long—centuries long; 
but a decade is ample for its decay. And well it is for the 
living that the dead do not longer encumber the ground, or 
hold locked up in their stark bodies the materials needed for 
the growth of a new generation. 

Nature makes of the dissolution of these imponderable 
trunks a lightsome task. She proceeds, as ever, without 
haste or noise, making use of frost and sun and rain and a long 
succession of living agents. From the first souring of the sap 
to the final mixing of the log-dust with the soil, she uses bac- 
teria, molds and fungi; and of the higher fungi, an interest- 
ing succession of forms appears as the dissolution of the wood 

180 


THE PASSING OF THE TREES 181 


proceeds. She uses insects, also, 
in great variety. Wood-borers 
and carpenter-worms penetrate 
to the heart of the solid trunks, 
in their feeding operations, open- 
ing passage ways. for the water 
and for fungus spores. Engraver- 
beetles, excavating their nests of 
wonderful design, loosen anc 
perforate the bark. Wire-worm 
and firefly larve perforate th 
log heaps when in a crumbling 
Fic. 70. Three insect larvae that red-rotten condition; and white 
live in logs. x, a carpenter-worm; s Fe 
y, a wire-worm; z,a snipe-fly larva grubs mix the last recognizable 
(Xylophagus). : i‘ 
remnants with the soil. So 
are the largest organic bodies on the earth reduced to 
earth again, and their masses of food materials put again into 
circulation; and in the process, generations of lesser organ- 
isms have been fed and housed. This is nature’s method. 
Of course, the population of these logs does not consist of 
herbivores alone. Wherever fungi and herbivorous animals 
flourish, their enemies are sure to find them. Stripping 
off the bark from an old log, we are pretty sure to find 
fungus-eating animals of several sorts: various beetles, 
cockroaches, millepedes, sow-bugs and the minute white 
cylindric legless larve of fungus-gnats. Also, we find true 
carnivores—centipedes, ground 
beetles, fireflies, etc., searching 
for animal prey. Even in the 
burrows of the heartwood borers, 
occur parasites that have found 
their well-sequestered victims. 
Then there are vertebrate ene- Fic. 71. Adult insects found under 


bark of logs; a, a fire-fly (Lampy- 


S ridae); b, a rove-beetle (Staphy- 
mies, also—salamanders, that  Ynidas). aiid 


182 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


squeeze in under the loose bark; woodpeckers, that cut 
deep holes to find the borers; and raccoons and bears 
that tear rotten logs to pieces with their claws, searching 
for grubs to eat. Each fallen log is a center of considerable 
resident population, and entertains numerous foreign visitors. 
A few of the more common and characteristic residents are 
shown in figures 7o and 71. 

The following brief statement of group characters may 
further aid in their recognition. Most of the resident 
insects found in logs will be: 


J. Caterpillars, having a long cylindric body, with a 
brown shield covering the first segment behind the head, and 
a tuberculate, spinous skin. These are moth larve fig. 70x; 
(Order Lepidoptera). 


II. Beetle larvae, (Order Coleoptera) having a distinct 
-head, usually small legs also, no brown shield on the first 
segment after the head, and a great variety of form and size. 
Beetles are the most important of wood-destroying insects, 
and a number of the families of beetle larvae may be recog- 
nized by the following characters: 

1. The true borers (members of the families Buprestidze 
and Cerambycide), having the long, straight body 
greatly widened and flattened toward the front 
end, the skin naked, pale and wrinkled, and the 
legs rudimentary. These perforate the hardest 
woods. 

2. The engraver-beetles (Scolytide), having short, thick, 
arcuate bodies that are usually legless, naked, 
wrinkled, and white. 

3. “Wire-worms” (Elateride), having very smooth 
cylindric, elongate bodies, small legs, shining 
yellowish or brown skin, and a horny disc ter- 
minating the abdomen above, the margin of the 
disc being toothed or sculptured fig. 7oy). 


THE PASSING OF THE TREES 183 


4. “Glow-worms” (Lampyride), having the body 
elongate tapering to the ends, flattened on the 
back, with well-developed legs and usually a pig- 
mented skin. 

5. ‘White grubs” (Scarabeide), having the short thick 
body bent double upon itself, so that the grub lies 
on its side, the legs well developed, the white skin 
bristly, and the blunt hinder end of the body 
smooth and shiny. 

6. Pyrochroid beetle larve (Pyrochroidz), having the 
body very thin and flat, its sides parallel, the legs 
well developed, the skin brown, and a pair of stout 
upturned hooks at the end of the abdomen. - 

III. Fly larve (Order Diptera), having cylindric legless 
bodies that taper from rear to front, the head being apparently 
wanting. Three families commonly are found. 

1. Fungus-gnat larvee (Mycetophilide), of minute size, 
white and soft, usually occurring gregariously 
under bark. 

2. Snipe-fly larvee (Leptidee), of similar form but larger 
and with the pointed front end of the body of a 
deep brown color, usually found in rotting wood 
(fig. 702) 

3. Crane-fly larvee (Tipulidze), less tapering, more cylin- 
dric, with the head end more bluntly pointed, and 
with a respiratory disc upon the rear end in the 
midst of which may be seen the openings of a pair 
of breathing tubes. Skin tough and more or less 
leathery. 

IV. Horn-tail larvae (Order Hymenoptera), having a 
long smoothly-cylindric white body with a prominent spine 
on the posterior end, rudimentary thoracic legs, and a 
small but distinct head placed low down at the front end; 
living in large clean-cut holes that are usually disposed in 
groups in dead or living trees. 


184 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


One observes in the woods that different kinds of logs have 
very different behavior in decay. Certain kinds, like poplar 
and willow, decay rapidly and soon disappear. Others, like 
chestnut and cypress, long persist. Some, like the oaks, lose 
the bark and sapwood quickly while the heartwood is still 
sound: others, like the yellow birch, preserve the hollow 
cylinders of bark intact, long after the wood has decayed and 
fallen from them. One finds the segments of the bark of 
birch kicked about over the forest floor, long after the 
trunks have vanished. The resinous knots of the pines 
persist far beyond all other parts of the tree. And with the 
differences in the character and content of the trunks, go 
differences in the population. The insects and fungi that 
work in pine logs are not the same species that work on logs 
of oak or willow. 

In the forest, where every inch of ground is densely filled 
with roots, the crumbling logs, as they settle into the earth, 
furnish a new place in which seedlings may get a foothold. 
Certain shrubs, like wild currant and raspberry, habitually 
spring up from seeds dropped upon fallen logs by birds; 
many trees, also, start in the same place from wind-sown 
seeds, and gradually settle with the disintegrating heap to 
the level of the ground. How often one finds in the woods 
a young birch tree or hemlock, standing astride a stump 
or fallen log with long leg-like roots reaching down either 
side into the soil. 

Gradually the moldering heap is dispersed by winds and the 
patter of raindrops and the stir of passing feet. The great tree 
has silently passed and left no sign; but the organic products 
it gathered in its lifetime have gone to the permanent enrich- 
ment of the soil. 


THE PASSING OF THE TREES 185 


Study 24. Observations on the Decay of Fallen Trees 


Any natural woods, having a variety of fallen trees, or even 
of old stumps, will do for this study. The individual equip- 
ment needed will be sharp brick hammers or hatchets for 
stripping bark and digging into logs, and vials of alcohol to 
hold insects, pending their identification. A few axes will be 
needed for common use. 


The program of work will consist of taking some logs (or 
tree-stumps) to pieces, observing their condition and rate of 
decay in various parts, and collecting specimens of their 
inhabitants. 


The record of the work may consist of: 


1. Notes on the phenomena of decay in logs of several 
species: changes in color and hardness; relative rate of 
progress in bark, sapwood, heartwood, knots, etc.; plants 
growing in the residual heaps, etc. 


2. A table of the wood-inhabiting insects found, prepared 
with column headings as follows: 
Name of insect (ask instructor, if you do not know it). 
Stage found (larva, pupa or adult). 
Kind of tree (white oak, linden, etc.). 
Part of wood (bark, sapwood, heartwood, etc.). 
Condition (sound, red-rotten, white-rotten, 
etc.). 
Burrow (depth, form, direction, etc.). 
Products (chips, borings, dust, etc.). 
Occurrence (rare, common, abundant, etc.). 
Remarks. 


Inhabits 


3. A list of the carnivorous insects found in the logs, with 
notes on their situation, occurrence, etc. 


XXV. THE FENCE-ROW 


“T wander to the zigzag-cornered fence 
Where sassafras, intrenched in brambles dense, 
Contests with stolid vehemence 
The march of culture, setting limb and thorn 
As pikes against the army of the corn.” 
—Sidney Lanier (Corn). 


In any new country, the first sign of civilization is a fence. 
It signifies control over the animal world. There is some- 
thing useful shut in, or something harmful shut out. It 
signifies personal possession of something—an advance 
beyond the stage when all that nature offers is held in com- 
mon. It signifies, also, personal insight into the ways of 
nature and initiative in making better use of her resources. 

Fences were first defenses. They were built by man to 
shut himself in and to keep enemies out. Then they became 
stockades made of posts fixed in the ground, and were extended 
to give shelter to a few domesticated beasts, as well as to man. 
In pioneer times in America our ancestors were still defending 
themselves and their possessions behind stockades. Then, 
with the growth of animal husbandry, they were expanded 
into stock-pens, whose early function was to keep wild beasts 
out, but whose function has now become that of keeping tame 
beasts in. Fences have only one agricultural function—the 
control of animals. 

The pioneer built fences for his fields of unmanufactured 
materials—of brush, of stumps, of stones. These he obtained 
in clearing the ground. The brush fence could be built 
quickly, but was a most temporary makeshift. Boughs piled 
with their tops directed outward formed a good barrier 
against approach from one side. But they covered much 
ground (a matter of more importance to us than to the 
pioneer); they might be destroyed by fire at any time after 

186 


THE FENCE-ROW 187 


becoming dry; escaping fire, they soon settled to the earth 
in decay; and during their time they harbored an abundance 

of rabbits, mice and other vermin to infest the fields. The 
stump fence was usually made of white pine, having great 
horizontal spread of roots. The roots of one side were 
chopped off, so that when the stump was laid on one side the 
other side rose erect into the air. By overlapping of roots, 
an excellent barrier was thus constructed. Tho subject, in a 
less degree, to the defects of the brush fence, the stump fence 
had the one great merit of permanence. The resinous roots 
resist decay, insomuch that there are stump fences all over 
New York and New England to-day fairly well preserved, that 
were built by the pioneers. Indeed, after the clearing of the 
land and the first cutting-over of the woods, there was no 
material left for building such fences a second time. Stone 
fences are built with greater expenditure of labor, but they 
occupy less land, and if properly built in the beginning, are 
easily maintained. Like the two preceding, they are built of 
waste material obtained in clearing the land. 

But such materials were not available everywhere in 
quantities adequate even for the first fences built. Further- 
more, the trunk of a tree, if split into rails, will build much 
more and better fence than will the brush of its tops, and the 
fence will occupy less ground, will be less easily burned, will 
harbor less vermin, and will last much longer. 

When land was being cleared of timber for which there 
was no market, the best use to which the logs could be put, 
was to split them into rails and build fences with them. 
Rails of black walnut and cherry and other valuable woods 
were used in the fencing of thousands of acres. During that 
comparatively brief period when men believed the timber 
supply of the country to be inexhaustible, rail-splitting was 
one of the most widespread forms of labor; insomuch that 
when Abraham Lincoln was introduced to the people of the 


188 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


nation as a candidate for president, in order to ally him 
with the common folks, he was presented to them as a 
rail-splitter. 

Events have moved rapidly since that day. The rail- 
splitter is well-nigh extinct. The rail fence has become 
expensive, and wire is taking its place. Another generation 
will see little of the old form of wooden fence, which in our 
day still exists side by side with modern wire and ancient stone. 

Whatever the form of a fence, if it bound a tilled field, it is 
bordered by a strip of ground, at least as wide as a whiffle- 
tree is long, that is a tension zone of wild life. On one side is 
the fence; on the other, the furrow. Between extends a strip 
of sod that the plowshare cannot reach, and this sod is full 
of lusty wild things, all struggling for a place and a living. 
If the farmer mows it con- 
stantly, grass sod develops 
asinameadow; ifhe mows 
it annually in winter, shrubs 
and vines possess it; if he 
neglects to mow it for a few 
years, treescomein. What- 
ever plants grow in it, it is 
a haven of refuge for their 
wild animal associates; if 


Fic.’ 72. Diagram of a cross-section of a 
fence-row. a, soil thrown out from a 
burrow; b, the runway of a meadow- 
mouse under the grass; c, the ‘‘form"’ of 
a rabbit; d, the furrow; and e, the 
overturned soil. 


only grass sod, meadow-mice 
and shrews will make their 
runways under its cover; if 


briers and grass grow 
together, rabbits will make their forms or dig their bur- 
rows in the midst of it. Every post or stake or high 
point in the fence is a point of outlook and a resting- 
place for the birds of the fields. Perching, they drop the 
seeds of berry-bearing shrubs and vines. So, we see dog- 
woods and elders and sumachs and chokecherries and bram- 


THE FENCE-ROW 189 


bles springing up everywhere, and wild grape, woodbine and 
poison-ivy climbing up the posts. But, however much grain 
the farmer may have spilled on the sod, we do not find grain 
growing there. Our cultivated 
grains are weaklings, requir- 
ing constant coddling. 

Just what we do for them 
when we break the sod, may be 
seen on the furrow side of the 
fence-row. If here and there 
be an overturned sod that has 
escaped subsequent tillage, we 
FIG a tinge Pe ne id herb see the wild things have been 

cut off far below the ground and 
turned upside down. Thus we kill some of them, and give 
others a bad set-back, and leave the severed roots of all of 
them (excepting such as sassafras) to rot in the ground. But 
as our plowshare cuts, our mold-board breaks the sod while 
turning it over, leaving it more open to the air, and favoring 
new growth of roots. The difference made in texture may be 
proved by probing with a stick, and the effect of subsequent 
tillage as well, if we probe both the sod, turned and un- 
turned, and the mellow root-free soil of the field. 

As time has run, and farms have multiplied and the wild 
animals, against whose incursions fences were once built, have 
disappeared, as methods have become more intensive and 
greater areas have been devoted to raising forage and less to 
the ranging of the stock, fences have become less important; 
at least, relatively fewer fences are needed; for many fields 
may now go unfenced. Yet wherever a fence is built and a 
little strip of accompanying sod remains unturned, there will 
still appear the same old denizens of the fence-row that flocked 
at the heels of the pioneer—berry-bearing bushes and 
brambles and vines. Amid the vicissitudes of tillage, the 
fence-row is as a haven of refuge for these wild things. 


190 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Study 25. Observations on Fence-rows 


The program of work for this study will consist of: 


1. A comparison of fence-rows bordering different kinds of 
fences, in different situations (upland and lowland, adjacent 
to woods, pasture and fields), and receiving different care (or 
different degrees of neglect). 


2. A detailed study of the population of selected strips of 
fence-row, as to the larger plants and animals it helps sustain. 


The record of this study may consist of: 


1. Notes as to conditions obtaining in half a dozen of the 
different fence-rows observed. 
2. Annotated lists of the population of the fence-rows 
selected for special study: 
(a) Plants, with notes on the kind, size, growth- 
habit, mode of propagation, abundance, etc. 
(b) Animals, as indicated by ‘“‘signs” of their occur- 
rence, burrows, runways, nests, borings, 
tracks, hair, feathers, etc., with notes on 
haunts, abundance, etc. 


XXVI. THE SPRING BROOK 


“Oh, for a seat in some poetic nook, 
Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook.” 
—Leigh Hunt. 


The early settlers in our country sought springs of water. 
Clear-flowing streams were good to dwell by, but springs were 
better. Their water was cooler in summer, did not freeze in 
winter and was freer at all times from possible contamination. 
Springs were the primeval water supply. These, more than 
any other single thing,.determined the home-sites of the 
pioneers. 

Springs were natural coolers for perishable food products— 
not refrigerators, but coolers; milk or melons they would cool, 
without overdoing it. A low thick-walled spring-house was 
often built over the outflowing stream to keep out the sun’s 
warmth and to increase convenience and capacity. The 
spring-house was the antecedent of the modern household 
refrigerator, and altho far less convenient, being usually 
remote from the kitchen, it was an excellent aid to keeping 
foods fresh and cool. Moreover, its equable temperature 
insured as well against their freezing in winter. 

Springs gave promise of the welfare of the fields, as well as 
of the household. They signified plenty of ground water; 
and the levels adjacent to the springs were the areas first 
cleared and cultivated. In almost any locality, if one would 
know where the first homes were built, he need only inquire 
the location of the best permanent springs, and then look for 
adjacent building-sites. 

Springs result from the water percolating through loose soil 
strata, and flowing out over outcropping impermeable strata. 
A layer of gravelly soil overlying a sheet of clay was nature’s 
primeval filtration plant. From it the water issues, clear 


191 


192 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


and sparkling, of a low and constant temperature, with a low 
oxygen content, and, owing to prolonged contact with the 
soil, with a high mineral content that varies much according 
to the character of the soil traversed. Deposits of sulphur 
and of iron are often formed about the mouths of mineral 
springs. But where the ordinary spring bubbles up, one 
usually sees only miniature deltas of clean-washed sand at the 
bottom of a limpid pool, which clears itself quickly after 
roiling. 

Spring water has a population of its own. 
Man and bird and beast are transient 
visitors who only quaff its waters; but 
there are other creatures, that permanently 
dwellinthem. They are things that cannot 
endure too great heat in summer or freezing 
in winter: things that like low equable 
temperature and partial shade. The most 
characteristic plant that grows in spring 
water is water cress (fig. 74); it was used 
by the pioneer to garnish his meat platter, 
and it is still so used. There are water- 
mosses, also suited to such a habitat, and 
many lesser alge of various kinds, both 
Fic. 74. A leaf of green and brown. 

There are animals, also, that live in 
spring water; ‘such are the salamander shown in figure 75, 
and the brook trout, which does its best in water not warmer 
than 60° F., and many other lesser creatures. Most of 
the great groups of animals are represented there, if 
by only a few forms: crustaceans; by the scuds, clamb- 
ering over and feeding upon the water-cress, and by 
asellus, wallowing in the soft bottom of the pools 
(fig. 20); molluscs, by little white clams (half an inch 
long, more or less), of the genus Spherium, furrowing the 


THE SPRING BROOK 193 


silt on the pool-beds; worms, by planarians 
gliding over the stones of the bottom, and by 
Tubtfex, in tubes in the bottom mud, waving 
their long, lithe, filamentous, red bodies in the 
water; andinsects, by a number of inhabitants 
of the submerged vegetation—caddis-worms 
(fig. 76), mayfly nymphs (fig. 23), midge larva 
(fig. 24), etc., and by a few burrowers in the 
-bottom. The spring brook does not harbor 
mosquitoes, but horse-fly larvee (fig. 77) live in 
the soft bottom and emerge in midsummer 
to annoy farm animals. 
As compared with the population of warm 
and stagnant pools, the denizens of the spring 
set ee brook are few, and many of them are so 
habiting le" restricted by conditions that, wherever they 
sia are found, they serve as an indication that the 
water is pure and cool and permanent. The spring brook 
sustains the life of 
these, and helps sus- 
tain innumerable 
others that come and 
go, or that dwell 
about its borders. Bryant has sensed this in his ‘‘Forest 
Hymn.”’: 


Fic. 76. A caddis-worm (Phryganea). 


“Yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs, 
Wells softly forth and visits the strong roots 
Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale 
Of all the good it does.” 


Fic. 77. A horse-fly larva. 


194 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Study 26. Observations at a Spring 


Any clear-flowing permanent spring will do for this study— 
wliether “improved” with a basin or a spring-house, or not. A 
time of freshet should be avoided: low water is preferable. 
The individual equipment needed will be a flat dish (like a 
white-enameled vegetable-dish) and a hand dip-net, with, 
possibly, a few vials to hold specimens pending their identi- 
fication. For common use, a pail, a garden-rake and a 
thermometer should be provided. 

The program of work will consist of: 

t. An examination of the spring itself, its water, its bed, 
its topographic situation. 

2. A survey of the inhabitants of its waters, both plants 
and animals. The plants may be raked out of the water, and 
certain animals may be picked from them by hand: other 
animals may be picked from stones in the brook-bed or sifted 
from the bottom mud with a dip-net. 

The record of this study may consist of: 

1. A map of the environs of the spring, including a bit of 
the outflowing brook, showing topography, outcropping 
strata, riffles and pools. 

2. Notes on the spring water, its temperature, color, 
taste, etc. 

3. An annotated list of the population of the water. 

(a) For plants, giving name, kind of plant, growth- 
habit, relative abundance, etc. 

(b) For animals, giving name, kind of animal, situa- 
tion in which found, relative abundance, 
economic importance, etc. 


XXVII. NATURE’S OFFERINGS FOR SPRING 
PLANTING 


“T should like to live, whether I smile or grieve, ; 
Just to watch the happy life of my green things growing"’. 
—Dinah M. Muloch (Green Things Growing.) 


Planting time! Time to get a spade and tear up the turf 
somewhere: to clear a space and stir the soil and set in it the 
roots of some lusty plant-foundlings, in hopes of seeing what 
they will do when summer comes. This is what one’s hands 
are itching to do (if there be a drop of gardening blood in his 
veins) when the snowdrops bloom, and the early buds are 
swelling, and the filmy clouds of the shadbush are whitening 
all the woodland slopes. Watching things grow, things that 
his own hands have planted, is one of the chief joys of the 
householder. 

Let us go, not to the garden to-day, but to the wildwood. 
We know the times and the seasons and ways and uses of 
radishes and peas and other things that nature lent us long 
ago, and that we have made the staples of our gardens. Let 
us seek out some of the little-used things, whose values are 
chiefly decorative; things that minister to our esthetic 
pleasure; things that nature has been keeping for us until 
we should attain to an appreciation of them; and let us begin 
to learn how to deal with them. 

Before there were nurseries, there was plenty of nursery 
stock grown in the wildwood, seedlings and plants of all sizes. 
Outside of the nurseries, there is plenty of it still grown. 
Let us go out and see what nature offers. Let us find her 
ancient nurseries. We will pass by the seeds: tho there 
are many of them still hanging on the twigs in the spring, 
they are for the most part slow to germinate. We will pass 
by the bulbs, also: tho there are many of thern shooting up 


195 


196 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


leaves and flower-stalks, this is not the season for moving 
them—they are for fall planting. We will consider only 
young stock, in condition for removal and ready for active 
growth. We need not look where there has been much 
mowing or close grazing, or where severe fires have run. 
These exterminate all the tender green things. But in 
almost any place where fairly natural conditions remain, we 
may expect to find young plants of each species commingled 
with the old. Let us make the 
old fruiting plants our guide in 
finding the less conspicuous and 
less easily recognizable younger 
generation. Under and near by 
the old flowering-dogwood tree, for 
example, we may find a few little 
dogwoods that have sprung up 


Gr 
rah from seeds. If there appear to 


be none, let us look closely, for 


Fic. 78. Seedlin: bark: th 
fawn. a the eld shrub, & the Gogwoods come on slowly. The 


Uifleseedlinpsin Whe gram vast seeds often require several years 

SOBER RBAIE AEAES: to germinate, and the seedlings 
under favorable conditions may grow but a few inches a year, 
But the puniest of the little shade-dwarfed seedlings that we 
may find, will respond wonderfully if set out in a nursery row, 
where they have plenty of room and light. They will soon 
make fine trees. 

Figure 78 is a diagram of a ninebark growing at the edge 
of alawn. From its swollen pods hundreds of thousands of 
seeds are shed every year. They are sown about over the 
grass, or tossed more widely when the wind sways the 
bushes. Sooner or later, most of them germinate and a few 
succeed in striking root in the soil and in lifting their pretty 
green leaves to the light. The mowing of the lawn clips their 
tops; but many of these seedlings have leaves that are below 


NATURE'S OFFERING FOR SPRING PLANTING _ 197 


the level of the mower, and such live on and renew each 
season their ill-fated attempts to rise in the world. The grass 
is full of them— little stubby fellows, each with only two or 
three small leaves that are put out early as if to take advan- 
tage of the leafless condition of the boughs overhead. But 
even such little unpromising stubs, if replanted in a favorable 
place, will make long leafy shoots the first season, and tall 
blossoming shrubs the second season. And if one will look 
about the borders of the lawn, he may find ready for planting 
some ninebarks of a larger growth that have escaped the 
mowing-machine. So one may find wild seedlings of many 
other sorts, such as june-berry and arrowwood and witch- 
hazel and of all the forest trees. 

Trees whose seeds employ special agencies of transporta- 
tion may spring upin anew place. Thus seedlings of plants 
whose fruits are eaten by birds are found about the open 
places where the birds perch; and those from seeds that are 
carried by water may congregate along shores and beaches. 
On sand-bars in stream or lake, one often sees thousands of 
little cottonwoods, willows, maples or sycamores, lined up 
along the shore as in a single extended nursery-row. 

It is a rough-and-tumble world into which wildwood 
seedlings enter. When one thinks how small and tender they 
are at the first, and how both earth and air are filled with 
competitors and enemies, one wonders that any of them sur- 
vive. Above them are great trees and lusty, smothering 
vines and bushes, all struggling to monopolize the light. 
Round about them are wild animals that trample and browze 
and burrow, and spread destruction. Drouth and flood and 
frost are constantly recurring perils while the seedlings are 
little and have but a tenuous hold upon the soil. “Even the 
overturn of a single dead leaf, if it falls flat upon them and 
shuts out the light, may extinguish the lives of dozens of 


them. 


198 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Yet some survive. Each wild species holds its own. In 
the nice balance of nature, enough are produced so that, after 
all the losses from casualties and enemies, a few will still be 
living on. A few will have found the chance places of security 
and of opportunity and will be carrying the race forward. 
It is nature’s method—wasteful of individuals but careful of 
the species. It necessitates that she should keep her nursery 
full. 

In nature’s nursery the number of individuals of any tree 
diminishes very rapidly as their size increases. It is only 


Fic. 79. An uprooted branch of cockle-mint; a, the old 
dead flowering stem; 0, b, two new shoots, ready for 
the coming season; ¢, ¢, buds that will produce shoots 
for the year thereafter. 


little seedlings that ordinarily are abundant; often, as in the 
case of the ninebark, just described, they are nearly all too 
small for landscape use; and those of “‘planting size’’ are apt 
to be deformed by growth in cramped quarters. But if only 
the severity of the struggle for existence be relieved a bit—as 
by transplanting these little things into good soil where they 
may have plenty of room and light—fine symmetrical bushes 
may be had in a season or two. It requires only a little fore- 
thought; it produces the finest plants, and yields, besides, 
the satisfaction of seeing things develop. 


NATURE’S OFFERINGS FOR SPRING PLANTING 199 


In all nurseries, wild and tame, plants are propagated in a 
variety of ways. Most trees are grown from seeds; the 
dominant species of our forests are increased in hardly any 
other way; but most shrubs and perennial herbs, while they 
produce seeds abundantly, have other modes of increase. 
They produce new plants by offsets, suckers, stolons, layers, 
etc. New plants thus formed are grown and nurtured under 
the shelter of the old ones. 

The cockle-mint of our brook-sides, (Physostegia virginiana.) 
(fig. 79) is a plant well habituated to this mode of increase. 
It produces annual herbaceous stems that bear four-ranked 
columns of beautiful bright pink flowers, and that are usually 
followed by a heavy crop of seeds. But the seeds are minute, 
and the seedlings are a bit slow about getting started. In 
the everywhere crowded brook-side thickets, their chance for 
completing development is indeed a very rare one. Did 
this plant depend on holding its place by new development 
from seeds every year, doubtless it would quickly disappear. 

But it has other resources. From the base of each flower- 
ing stem, a number of offsets are produced as underground. 
branches. Each of these is equipped with an abundance of 
roots, with a store of reserve food material (thickening it 
apically), with a big apical stem-bud, and with a few green 
leaves at the surface of the ground, all ready for growth when 
spring breaks. As compared with a puny seedling, it is 
already a strong and well-established plant. The provision 
it makes for future needs extends yet farther ahead. On the 
sides of each offset, there are produced a number of long 
naked buds, that will grow out into new offset branches 
another season, and rise on stems and bloom and bear and 
die the summer thereafter. 

In contrast with reproduction by means of seeds, the 
increase by this method is slow but sure. Plants of this sort 
hold their place in the world by continuous occupancy of it. 


200 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


They never let go. Slow as is this method of propagation, it 
still means a steady annual increase and results in mutual 
crowding. Each offset tends to form a clump, and each 
clump a thicket. Some plants like—cockle-mint and pearl 
achille, increase in this way so quickly that, for best results 
in flower production, they need to be dug up, divided and 
replanted every second year. Most herbaceous perennials 
need this treatment every few years. Both the number and 
the kind of offsets produced give a hint of the future behavior 
of the plants. I=ftherebe only a fewlittle offsets close against 
the base of the old stem, as in the tall lobelias (Lobelia cardt- 
nalts and L. syphilitica) one knows the plants will spread slowly 
and stay where placed; but if the underground shoots are 
both very long and numerous, as in the panicled white aster, 
one knows the plant is likely to spread. He who digs them 
should dig observantly, learning thereby how to plant them 
again in a new place. 

Excellent for planting are these offsets of herbaceous 
perennials. Nature carefully prepares them and fully equips 
them for rapid and complete development. There are no 
years of long waiting for results. They will give their full 
effect the first season. So, while we are waiting for the trees 
to attain their dignity and for the shrubs to grow to blooming 
size, we plant herbaceous perennials. Native wild perennials 
are best suited to informal planting. In using them about 
our grounds, there are just a few things that need always to be 
remembered: 

1. To plant the best of them in masses, many of a kind 
together, for too great variety is wearisome. 

2. Toplant the tallest growing forms at the back and the 
lowest at the front, so that the lowest foliage masses will 
drop gently down to the greensward. 

3. To plant each kind where its requirements of light and 
moisture will be met. 


NATURE’S OFFERINGS FOR SPRING PLANTING 201 


4. To plant the tough and thorny things in exposed places 
where people pass; the weak and brittle things where there is 
little chance of injury. 


5. To plant in such an arrangement that flowers of 
inharmonious hues will not bloom side by side. 

Such plantings will be beautiful and relatively permanent, 
and will be maintained, year after year, with a minimum of 
trouble. 

Then, we may 
plant for fra- 
grance of leaves 
or flowers, for 
succession of 
bloom through- 
out the growing 
season, for au- 
tumnal colors of 
leaves or winter 
colors of bark or 
berries, or for 
any other effect 
that suits our 
fancy; nature 
has something 
for every place 
and purpose. In 
the wildwood we may see under what conditions each 
thing thrives best. And anyone can plant successfully who 
will observe and imitate nature’s ways of using each sort. 

If we wish to attract birds, we will plant berry-bearing 
bushes and vines: such shrubs as buffalo-berry, shadbush, 
black-berried elder, viburnums, wild black currant, and’ 
blueberries: such vines as wild grape, honeysuckles and 
clematis. 


Fic. 80. Aspray of sweet-fern (Comptonia asplenifolia). 


202 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Suggestions as to the natural functions of such materials in 
the beautifying of our environment will be found in 
Chapters 16, 32,and 48. In the unmutilated wildwood one 
may see what elements of grace or of beauty each species 
may lend to a landscape. Let no one despair of having 
his place well planted for lack of means: there is little 
relation between money-cost and real beauty. Many of 
the most beautiful things require only to be planted in 
suitable places. Good taste is what is needed, and an appreci- 
ation of the requirements of the plants as to food, water and 
sunlight. Beautiful plantings consist only of plants well 
placed and well grown; and many wild things, that are to 
be had for the digging of them, will grow better and fit 
better than will any costly exotics. 


Study 27. Wild Perennials for Spring Planting 


Two alternative lines of work are suggested for this exer- 
cise. For either, individual digging tools will be needed. 


I, The program of work may consist of asearchin woods and 
fence-rows for wild things for ornamental plantings—trees and 
shrubs and herbaceous perennials. These should be dug up 
and examined, root and branch. Their soil preferences and. 
moisture and light requirements should be carefully noted. 
Their relations to parent plants and to the conditions under 
which they have grown should be observed. And then, being 
things of value, they should be replanted properly in suitable 
places; if not needed elsewhere, roadside waste places may 
be beautified with them. 


NATURE’S OFFERING FOR SPRING PLANTING — 203 


The record of this work may consist of: 
1. In the case of seedlings, such data as the following: 

a. Statistics of the number of seedlings of different 
sizes in a given area. 

b. Map showing the location of seedlings in relation 
to the parent tree. 

c. Diagrams of the form of seedlings of different 
ages and grown under different conditions. 

d. Comparative statement concerning all the differ- 
ent kinds of seedlings found and the years 
required to attain to “planting size” for land- 
scape use. 

2. Inthecase of vegetative offshoots of the various sorts, 
such data as the following: 

a. Diagram of the principle mode of new plant 
production. 

b. Records for all the forms studied, of the usual 
number of new shoots produced in one season 
from a single crown; also the length of these 
shoots (as determining the ability of the species 
to spread). 


3. Inthe case of all the forms studied, a tabular statement 

under column headings as follows: 
Name of plant. 
; moisture. 
Requirement as to sunlipht: 

Fruiting age. 
Fruiting size. 
Mode of increase. 
Time of flowering. 
Valued for what decorative quality. 
Limitations as to its use. 
Remarks. 


204 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


II. The program of work may better consist in the gather- 
of wild stuff and the setting of it in permanent plantings 
where such are needed, and where the beautiful wild things, 
so rapidly disappearing, may be preserved for future genera- 
tions. Something more educational than the ordinary “ivy 
day” and “arbor day’”’ performances is here proposed, tho it 
should have the same patriotic significance. If the school 
have a ground-plan, let some bit of ground, some bank or 
border, be, assigned to the class for planting. Let the 
teacher have a planting-plan of the usual sort, but lacking the 
names of exotic plants, with only the size and character of 
the plants indicated. Let teacher and class together seek 
out, gather and plant suitable wild things. For the sake of 
acquaintance with the plant characters, all should participate 
in the digging of the stock. The resetting may often better 
be done by division of labor. Wild plants should be obtained 
where overcrowded or where in danger of extermination, and 
those that are flourishing in suitable places should be let 
alone. Otherwise, ill-considered and unsuccessful efforts at 
transplanting may only hasten their extermination. The 
best success with trees and shrubs will lie in taking them 
when little and setting them first in a nursery and giving them 
time to grow. 


The record of this work may consist in: 

1. A diagram of the area planted, with plants named in 
the diagram. 

2. A table of characters of the plants used, such as is 
indicated under 3 above. 


XXVIII. THE CUT-OVER WOODLAND THICKET 


“For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, 
that it will sprout again, 
And that the tender branch thereof will not cease; 
Though the root thereof wax old in the ground 
Yet through the scent of water it will bud 
And put forth boughs like a plant.” 
— The book of Job, 36:14 


When the great trees are felled, and the forest cover is 
removed, if nothing more be done, no plowing or pasturing, 
then the underlings have their turn. Weakling dogwoods 
and elders and other shrubs that have been leading a lingering 
existence under the shadow of the oaks and elms, take a new 
lease on life. They flourish inordinately. They form great 
clumps, covered with bloom in summer and heavy with fruit 
in autumn. Their stems are no longer thin and scattered, 
but stout and aggressive. They spread and try to cover the 
whole of the area on which before they had such a slender 
hold. 

But there is hope of a tree—of some trees. The pine tree 
dies when cut down; but most trees sprout again. They 
send up a circle of lusty shoots, which, ere the end of the first 
season, are competing with each other for light and standing- 
room. Ere the end of the second season, the biggest sprouts 
are overtopping the competing shrubbery; and thereafter 
their real competition is with each other. They grow and 
spread, and gradually bring the underling shrubbery into 
subjection again. 

So, after the cutting of a wood, the first season it looks thin 
and bare, and the stumps stand out boldly. The second 
season, it is covered with copses of spreading bushes and 
clusters of sprouts hiding the stumps. For a few succeeding 
seasons, it is a mixture, indiscriminate and dense, of small 


205 


206 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


trees and bushes; and thereafter it is a wood again, at first 
impenetrably dense, but after many years, after time for the 
formation of a permanent forest cover and for the death and 
removal of the shaded undergrowth, it becomes open and 
shadowy again. 

The thicket is thickest at the time when the shrubs have 
reached their maximum and the young trees are beginning to 
press them back again; and at no time is a wood more 
interesting. Here one may sense the meaning of the struggle 
for existence, the peaceful, effective, uncompromising, eternal 
struggle of the battlefield of nature. Here is a forest society, 
composed of a mixture of plants, large and small, that have 
dwelt together for ages. It is temporarily upset by the 
invasion of the woodman’s ax, and is in process of readjust- 
ment—of getting its balance again. Here are stumps dead 
and rotting, and other stumps greenand sprouting. Here are 
poor standing remnants of a former forest growth. Here are 
shrubs that once struggled along in the shadow, now luxuri- 
ating in the light and crowding one another, and trying to 
smother the small trees ere they get their heads above the 
general coverlet of green. Outside, when the leaves are on, it 
all has an aspect of rich verdure, but if one look underneath, 
the abundance of dead stems there bears testimony of the 
severity of the struggle. 

Woody plants dominate the situation, but they have 
herbaceous associates, dwelling with them whether the cover 
be forest or shrubbery. In the leaf-mold are the roots of 
many little things—bloodroots and trilliums, adder’s-tongues, 
squirrel-corn, and other early blooming-flowers, that make 
the most of the spring sunshine before the upper leaves come 
out to shade them. Ferns, also, and thin wood grasses and 
sedges and slender wood asters and goldenrods keep their 
places in the intervals between the clumps, persisting through 
the great struggle for place that goes on over their heads. 


THE CUT-OVER WOODLAND THICKET 207 


Study 28. The Cut-over Woodland Thicket 


A patch of woodland that has been cut over rather closely, 
and left for some years untouched, should be selected for this 
study. Only the more typical portions will show the phe- 
nomena this study is intended to illustrate. The invading 
population of the roadways and more open places may be 
passed by. 

The program of work will consist of: 

1. A brief examination of a bit of natural uncut woodland, 
especially with a view to noting the condition and size of the 
plants of the undergrowth when a forest cover is present; this 
to serve merely as a basis for comparison. 

2. A more detailed examination of the cut-over thicket, 
as to its constituent woody plants, their size and condition as 
indicating the nature of the struggle for existence between 
them, and the progress of forest restoration. 

The record of this study may consist of: 

1. A diagram of a vertical section of a typical portion of 
the thicket, including tree-remnants, sprouting stumps, and 
shrubs, large and small, of the commoner sorts, in their 
proper relations. Possibly the growth may be such that a 
sprout thicket and a bush thicket may be better shown 
separately (Bramble thickets, being the special subject of 
Study No. 44, may be omitted here). 

2. An annotated list of the woody components of the 
thicket. The notes should include, besides name (which 
instructor will furnish if needed), kind of plant (tree, shrub 
or vine), growth-habit (erect, spreading, climbing, etc.), 
reproductive method (sprouts from stumps or from the 
ground, stolons, etc.), average present size and condition, 
relative abundance, with special indications of the valuable 
tree species present, and remarks on the chances of restora- 
tion of valuable woodland. 


XXIX. THE WILD SPRING FLOWERS OF THE 
FARM 


‘Take of my violets! I found them where 
The liquid south stole o'er them, on a bank 
That leaned to running water. There's to me 
A daintiness about these early flowers, 
That touches me like poetry. They blow 
With such a simple loveliness among 
The common herbs of pasture, and breathe out 
Their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts 
‘Whose beatings are too gentle for the world.” 
—Nathaniel Parker Willis (April). 


Warm sunshine, and the breath of a soft wind from the 
south, and rills murmuring in every glen, and—surely there 
must be wild flowers blooming in the woods. Let us go out 
and find them. Some, like the hepaticas, will be peeping 
from under the woodland carpet of sodden brown leaves— 
peeping with eyes of a soft captivating baby-blue. Some, 
like the anemones, will be lifting their leafy sprays of pearly 
white blossoms on grassy banks, in tufts of exquisite grace. 
Some, like the marsh-marigolds, will be spreading their 
shining leaves and bright golden flowers by the waterside 
in cheerful array. Each in its own way is brightening some 
unspoiled spot of earth; and every year, in spring, all are 
ready to greet and to cheer us again, like old friends. After 
the barren winter, how welcome they are! 

How different they are in their behavior! The fugitive 
flower of bloodroot shoots upward encased in a single huge 
leaf, which then spreads out its broadly scalloped border, 
making a fine background for a fine blossom. The adder’s- 
tongue shoots out on its long slender stalk from between two 
spotted leaves. The trillium flower unfolds from between 
a whorl of three green leaves, held at the top of an erect 
stem. These flowers come singly. But the flowers of the 


208 


THE WILD SPRING FLOWERS OF THE FARM 209 


hepatica come all in a troop and unattended; the leaves of 
the past season, still green, lie prone about them; those of 
the coming season will shortly rise and expand—indeed, ere 
the flowers have faded, a new crop of leaves may be seen 
lifting their fuzzy tips all together. For hepatica has the 
curious habit of producing its entire crop of leaves, as by a 
single mighty effort, all at once, and holding them until the 
next annual crop is matured. 

Most spring flowers tend to form clumps or great masses 
in the woods, and to this habit many charming effects in 
wild-wood landscapes are due. Think of the banks you 
have seen of moss-pink, or trillium, or columbine; the 
levels covered with violets or bloodroot or spring 
beauty! Mandrakes are gregarious and flock together 
like sheep. They hang their big white flowers coyly under huge 
umbrella-shaped leaves, and make a beautiful ground-cover 
of shining green domes. Wild ginger also, hides its curious 
brown-purple flowers under a beautiful leaf-mosaic at the 
very surface of the ground. The big white trillium lets its 
flowers lop over on one side and holds them until they 
turn rose-purple in fading. 

It is not flowers alone for which these plants are desir- 
able. Their foliage is often of beautiful design. Where 
can there be found stronger simple outlines than those of 
the leaves of the hepatica, bloodroot or bird’s-foot violet? 
Where, more airy, lacy effects than in the foliage of squirrel- 
corn, anemonella, and early meadow-rue? Where, softer 
leaf colorings than in adder’s-tongue, hepatica or the spathe 
of Jack-in-the-pulpit? The flower of the wild columbine is 
splendid—and worthy of having been advocated for adop- 
tion as the flower of the nation—but it is hardly more 
pleasing than the finely cut, gracefully poised, silvery 
tinted foliage, which lasts all summer long. Some bulbous- 
rooted spring flowers, to be sure, lose their foliage before 


210 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


midsummer, and disappear utterly above ground until 
spring comes around again; such are adder’s tongue and 
Dutchman’s breeches, and 
others that grow in the deep- 
est shades of the woods. But, 
on the other hand, the foliage 
of hepaticas and moss-pink 
is evergreen. 

Fine as are these wild 
flowers, they are rapidly being 
exterminated. Their value is 
esthetic, not commercial. The 
land they occupy is all being 
taken from them for fields 
and stock-pens. Long since, Breil Hepaticn, 
they were driven from our 
doors. Of late, with the pressure of men for room, with the 
extension of fields, and especially with the pasturing of every 
bit of woodland, they are being exterminated in their last 
retreats. The time is coming when, if we would save them 
for our posterity, we must get them back about our doors 
again, where we can propagate them and protect them from 
utter annihilation. They will grow there as well as in the 
woods, if planted in suitable places. Of course, they will not 
grow on a smoothly mown lawn; but possibly the present 
zeal for leveling everything and having only mown lawns 
about one’s place may yet develop into something better. 
Far more beautiful than grass as a ground-cover for the 
moist bank or for the shady place where there is no trampling, 
is a growth of common blue violets or of bloodroot or of 
wild ginger. Finer than any grass, for covering a dry sunny 
bank, is a close gray-green carpet of moss-pink. Why should 
one drain the low wet spot on his grounds, when he may, by 
properly planting it, have there, through the season, a 


THE WILD SPRING FLOWERS OF THE FARM — 2!1r 


succession of such beautiful flowers as the marsh-marigolds, 
lady’s-slippers, cardinal-flowers, and hibiscus, maintained 
with a minimum of care. Why reduce everything to this 
dead level of artificial mediocrity? 

One should not “rob the woods,’’ where wild flowers 
remain, and selfishly deprive others of the pleasure of seeing 
them there. It is better to raise them from seeds, or to buy 
from a dealer who raises them from seeds (and not from one 
who is making a business of robbing the woods). But often 
when a wood is being cleared for plowing, or a new road is 
building, the wild flowers about to be destroyed may be 
taken up and given a place of refuge in private grounds. 

Success with growing wild flowers depends on one’s 
ability to take a hint from nature. Every plant has its 
requirements of light and moisture, and one may learn what 
these are by observing under what conditions it thrives 
best when wild. It is a waste of time and labor, and an 
advertisement of stupidity, to set out wild plants where they 
cannot possibly live. They are far better suited to informal 
plantings than are expensive exotics, and once established 
in suitable places they are practically self-sustaining. 

Fortunately the wood-crop and the wild flowers grow 
well together, and flourish on rough land not suitable for 
tillage. Fortunately for the wild flowers, also, farmers are 
learning that the woodlot is more productive when not 
closely pastured. Often it has seemed to be the policy of 
the farmer to include every bit of rough woodland, however 
little forage it might afford, inside his pasture fence, on the 
general theory that every green thing his cattle might eat 
was clear gain to him. But of how much value in the diet 
of an ox is a handful of lilies? Yet if they be eaten or tramp- 
led out of existence, how much beauty is lost! On many 
farms a better spirit of enlightenment prevails. The woodlot 
is outside the pasture fence; and, protected from grazing 


212 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


and trampling and fires, the wild things again take possession 
of the banks and dells and ledges. It is at once a better 
woodlot and a wild flower reservation, and serves both use 
and beauty. Happily, the day is passing, when to help 
fill the paunch of some cattle-beast will be considered the 
chief end of every green thing growing wild on the farm. 


Study 29. Wild Spring Flowers of the Farm 


The program of the work for this study will consist of a 
visit to some native bit of woodland where the wild life has 
not been exterminated, and of an examination of the wild 
flowers, one by one, observing where they grow and what 
manner of life they lead. 


The record of this study may consist of: 


1. A map of a small woodland glade, with indications 
thereon of the distribution of the common kinds of wild 
flowers in relation to slope, moisture, shade and forest cover. 


2. A table of all the wild flowers found, prepared with 
some such column headings as the following: 

Name (ask instructor if you do not know it). - 

Stem (erect, trailing, creeping, underground, simple, 

branched, leafy, naked, etc.). 

Flower (color, odor, form, size, etc.). 

Flower-cluster (diagram). 

Foliage (leaf-form, color, texture, etc.). 

Situation (wet or dry, in sun or in shade). 

Social habit (Solitary, commingling, cover-forming, etc.). 

Remarks. 


“ *That little patch,’ said a successful flower-grower to me the other 
day, pointing to a bed of some rare daffodils about four feet by five, ‘is 
worth fifty pounds.’ I tried to look duly impressed: but I bethought 
me of a certain streamlet thickly, but not too thickly, edged with king- 
cups, which, if human delight were the measure of value, must have 
been worth fully fifty millions.”’—Hubert P. Bland. 


XXX. WHAT GOES ON IN THE APPLE BLOSSOMS 


“Around old homesteads clustering thick they shed 
Their sweets to murm'ring bees; 
And o’er hushed lanes and wayside fountains spread 
Their pictured canopies.” 
—Horatio H. Powers (Apple Blossoms) 


Sweet is the scent of the orchard in May. When the apple 
trees array themselves in pink and white it is the time of a 
great annual festival. The apple tree is host. In every one 
of its florets a place is spread for a little winged guest. The 
food is nectar and pollen, provided in lavish abundance. A 
brilliant company of bees and flies and butterflies are guests. 
The merry activity runs for days together, heightening when 
the sun shines brightly. It is held at the opening of the 
summer season, and the serious work of producing an apple 
crop is dependent on the good will and patronage of these 
visiting insects. 

For, not all the pollen is eaten by them. Some of it is 
carried on their bodies and implanted on the stigmas of the 
flowers, where its growth results in the fertilization of the 
ovules; this conditions the development of fruit. To secure 
this service. which the insects render unwittingly while satis- 
fying their own appetites, the apple tree advertises its feast 
by fringing each flower with a circlet of pink and white petals. 
hung out gaily like banners, and sets a green dish in the center 
filled with drops of fragrant nectar, which perfumes the pass- 
ing breeze. It also provides pollen greatly in excess of its 
own needs and offers great bursting anthers full of it. Then 
the bees come. 

A honey-bee alights on the edge of a flower with her hind 
feet clutching the petals and her head thrust in among the 
stamens. She would like nectar; so she unslings her long 


213 


214 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


proboscis and thrusts its tip downward between the bases of 
the stamens into the nectar dish, lapping up what she can 
reach. Then she raises her head and pushes her body 
through and over the central clump of stamens and style tips, 
and makes another downward thrust on the other side. In 
doing this, she brushes roughly against bursting anthers, 
filling the hairy coat of her body and legs with pollen; and 
she rubs stigmas, also, depositing pollen upon their moist 
tips. 

Figure 83 shows 
where the nectar is, 
and explains these 
movements of the bees. 
The nectar is in a basin, 
out of the center of 
which arise the five 
stout styles, and it is 
Fic. 83. Diagram of a section of an apple blos- fenced round about by 

cae BUREN Snes nce a, lee kes palisade of 

stamens. It can be 
reached only from above. It cannot all be reached from any 
one position (hence the successive thrusts of the bee into the 
flower). Owing to the close crowding of the stamens and 
pistils, it can only be reached by a slender proboscis. This 
feast is not to be wasted on any wandering insect that may 
come along; it is reserved for those that are endowed with 
suitable nectar-gathering apparatus. 

A little burrowing bee, Halictus by name, descends upon 
the flower and goes tip-toeing upon the top of the stamen 
cluster. She has a short proboscis that is quite unequal to 
reaching down to the nectar-cup: so she gathers pollen and 
in trampling about over the anthers tramples the stigmas as 
well and deposits pollen on them. A little green-and-gold 
bee, Augochlora by name, of size intermediate between 


WHAT GOES ON IN THE APPLE BLOSSOMS 215 


the little halictus and the honey-bee, settling upon the 
stamens, spreads them with her feet and pushes head down- 
ward between until her not very long proboscis reaches the 
nectar in the cup below. Bees are the most important pollen. 
distributors for apple blossoms: the larger ones seek both 
nectar and pollen; the lesser ones, pollen only. . Bees go 
about the work in a brisk business-like way, passing rapidly 
and directly from flower to flower, visiting many in rapid 
succession and gleaning their food products thoroly. They 
are little disturbed by a person quietly watching them. 
Perhaps the possession 
of a sting may have 
something to do with 
this assurance of man- 
ner. 

Atany rate, the sting- 
less visitors of the apple 
blossoms, true flies and 
butterflies, behave very 

differently. They flit 
aes eae are oe fly (Syrphus americanus, about nervously, mak- 

ing circuitous flights 
between visits, and manifesting great wariness. A hand- 
some banded syrphus-fly (fig. 84) settles lightly upon the 
stamens and laps up a little pollen with his proboscis and 
is away again, being gone before one has discovered that 
he is taking flight. A pretty nimble bee-fly darts up to a 
flower, makes a thrust or two at the nectar-cup with its 
exceedingly slender proboscis, and is away again. A fine 
butterfly soars overhead, and finally settles upon a flower 
cluster as if by accident, and sits there languidly dipping 
the tip of his uncoiled proboscis into such nectar cups as 
are in reach. Having greater length of proboscis than the 
apple flower demands, he swings it around like a dipping- 
crane. But he also darts away at the passing of a shadow. 


216 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


The pollen of the apple is freely exposed, and there are many 
chance visitors that nibble at it, such as house-flies and 
beetles. But the insects that can reach the nectar are 
rather few. Bumblebees and honeybees are the most 
persistent and efficient distributors of pollen. All the bees 
are equipped for carrying pollen abundantly by reason of the 
bristly plumose hairs that clothe their bodies, and that make 
veritable pollen brushes (see figs. 105 and 106). 

When rain falls constantly in blossoming time, the apple 
trees set little fruit because the bees are kept away from 
them: but when the sun shines, the busy hum of their 
prodigious activity is the sure forerunner of an apple crop. 


Study 30. Observations on Apple Blossoms and Their 
Visitors 


This study should be begun at home, where one may sit 
at a table and work carefully. With a bunch of fresh apple 
blossoms in hand, notice first the difference in condition of the 
flowers, from fresh unopened buds to spent flowers with 
falling petals. Observe especially the condition. of the tips in 
the central cluster of stamens and pistils—the yellowish 
anthers capping the numerous stamens, and the naked 
stigmatic surfaces terminating the five pistils. Note care- 
fully the changes of position and of condition during flower- 
ing. Then split several flowers of different age in halves, 
lengthwise, and look with a lens in the shallow green cup 
surrounding the pistils and encircled by the bases of the 
stamens for shining droplets of nectar. Then make a dia- 
gram of such a section, showing carefully the relative 
position of anthers, stigmas and nectar at time of full 
bloom. 

The field work of this study will require fit weather. A 
calm bright day will be best. Rain will drive the flower 
visitors away, and too much wind will interfere with observa- 


WHAT GOES ON IN THE APPLE BLOSSOMS 217 


tions on them. The tools needed will be individual insect 
nets, cyanide bottles* and lenses. 


The program of field work will consist of a visit to apple 
trees in full bloom and observations on the doings of the 
flower visitors. Trees with low-hanging boughs, having 
abundant blossoms within reach from the ground, will be best. 
If wild crab-apple trees or even haw-apples are more con- 
venient, they will serve equally well. The visitors will be 
seen, coming and going, or flitting from flower to flower, each 
kind after its own habit. The bees may be captured in a 
cyanide bottle directly, but the more wary flies and butterflies 
will require the use of the net. A quick deft stroke will 
land them in the net, and a quick turn of the handle will make 
a fold in it and keep them in the bottom until they can be 
removed in a cyanide bottle, inserted unstoppered for the 
purpose. Effort should be concentrated on watching the 
insects, not on catching them. Their comings and goings 
and how they obtain the nectar, should be observed care- 
fully. Then a specimen of each kind of visitor should be 
captured for identification. 


The record of this study should consist of: 

1. A diagram of a longitudinal section of the flower as 
mentioned above. : 

2. A similar diagram with a bee added in the position 
taken when obtaining nectar. Show position of proboscis 
and feet carefully. 


*A cyanide bottle for killing insects may be made by placing half an 
ounce, more or less, of cyanide of potassium (a deadly poison) in the 
bottom of any wide-mouthed bottle, covering it with dry sawdust or 
other good absorbent, pressing down on top of it a few discs of stiff 
blotting paper, and affixing a POISON label. The discs should fit the 
inside of the bottle tightly and will stay in place better if lightly gummed 
at their edges when inserted. Most insects are very quickly killed when 
shut inside. The nets also may be made at home but not so easily. 
Those offered by the Simplex Net Company of Ithaca, New York, are 
recommended as being light, strong and inexpensive. 


218 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


3. A list of all the apple blossom visitors observed, with 
data as far as obtainable incorporated in a table prepared 
with the following column headings: 

Name (of the insect; ask the instructor if you do not 

know it). 

Seeking (pollen or nectar. Do not guess at this; better 

leave the space blank). 

Alights where (touching what parts of the flower). 

Carries pollen on (what parts of the body). 

Touches stigmas with (what parts of the body). 

Reaches nectar with (what proportion of proboscis, or of 

whole body, inserted into the flower). 
| per minute. 

Number of flowers visited 4 between flights (i. e. between 

| the longer flights). 

Activity (relatively quick or slow, wary or approachable, 

direct or circuitous, etc.). 

Fitness (well or ill-adapted for pollinating apple blossoms). 


If there be any difficulty arising out of the crowd, conclud- 
ing observations may, with advantage, be made individually, 
at one’s own convenience. 


XXXI. THE SONG-BIRDS OF THE FARM 


“The woods were filled so full of song 
There seemed no room for sense of wrong.” 
—Tennyson. 


Nothing is more natural than that we should be interested 
in birds. Their appeal to us is manifold. Their colors are 
beautiful, and the texture and design of their garb are elegant 
beyond comparison. Their sprightliness is wonderful. They 
flit from morning till night unceasingly, and traverse the air 
with a freedom that often moves us to say, enviously, with 
Darius Green, “Birds can fly, and why can’t I?” When we 
shall have “conquered the air’’, our flying bids fair to be 
serious work rather than play, such as theirsis. Their songs 
are the finest vocal expressions of the animal world—expres- 
sions apparently of contentment, of tender sentiments and of 
exuberant joy. Their nests show fine discrimination in the 
selection and use of materials, artistic sense of decorative 
values, and in their construction they disclose the elements of 
basketry and carpentry, and of both plastic and textile art. 
Their family life is nearly ideal; the fidelity of mates to each 
other and the devotion of parents to their brood being such 
as human society aspires to, but has not yet fully attained. 

And if all these things were not enough, there would still 
remain the practical consideration that birds aid us in our 
agriculture. They feed on insect pests of field and orchard: 
and if any one were so devoid of sentiment as not to like a 
robin singing from the housetop, he might still appreciate the 
bird when found devouring cutworms in the garden. It is 
not economic, but esthetic values, however, that are to be the 
subject of this study. Let us get acquainted with the birds 
dwelling near us for the sake of the pleasure to be had from 
personally knowing creatures so beautiful, so tuneful and so 
artful. 


219 


220 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


This is the age of birds. They outnumber, in species, all 
other air-breathing vertebrates put together. Doubtless, 
their ability to fly and thereby to find food and to escape 
enemies has had much to do with this preponderence. Hardly 
any other living things have acquired such power of flight, 
and no others have established regular seasonal 
migrations between summer and winter homes. 
A hundred or more species may be found in any 
good locality in the course of a year—more than 
half of them, song-birds. A few are permanent 
residents; a few are winter visitors from the far 
north; many are transient visitors that winter 
south of us and summer north of us, and a sub- 
stantial number, including all the song-birds that 
we value most highly, are summer residents. 
These return to us every spring and settle and 
build nests and sing and rear their broods. Who 
does not feel a thrill of pleasure at the return 
of the bluebird, that soft-voiced harbinger of 

Fic. 85. apring? : 

Simple types Wild birds they are, yet they do not mind our 


of poms presence if we treat them well. And a number 


ing boxes of the most charming little birds will settle near 

us and remain with us year after year if we 

provide them suitable places for nest building, located in 
safe and congenial surroundings. 

It is a pleasant aspect of evolution to contemplate that the 
birds we like best—the birds.that sing and that fashion beauti- 
ful nests and rear their young with most parental care—are the 
ones that have been and are most successful in the race of life. 

While a number of the smaller birds look much alike on 
first approach, each species has its distinguishing peculiarities 
that a little careful observation will reveal—peculiarities of 
color and attitude, of flight and of notes, of haunts and of 


THE SONG-BIRDS OF THE FARM 221 


manners toward man and toward each other. A few, like the 
crow and the jay, are so well marked as not to be mistaken. 
The habit of running head downward along the bark of a tree 
at once marks a bird as either a nuthatch or a creeper. The 
songs are perfectly specific, and will often lead the careful 
observer to the bird he is wishing to see. There is no need of 
attempting to describe differences here; for a morning in the 
field with the birds is worth more than all the descriptions. 


Study 31. Song-birds of the Farm 


This study is intended primarily for those who do not know 
the local song-birds at sight.* An instructor who knows 
them is assumed; yet the student working alone may easily 
do what is here outlined and identify his birds with the aid 
of some of the excellent bird books now generally available. 
Field glasses (or opera glasses) while not absolutely necessary 
will be a great aid in field work on birds. Dry weather will 
be desirable, and a shift of meeting time to an early morning 
hour (when birds are most in evidence) may be advantageous. 
Prepared bird-skins may be used by the instructor in point- 
ing out recognition characters. 

The program of work will consist of a short trip made 
quietly along some woodsy lane where birds congregate, and 
across upland and lowland meadows and by a willow-bor- 
dered stream, observing the different species of song-birds, 
one by one, as opportunity offers. Careful observations will 
be needed to obtain the data called for by the table out- 
lined below. 


*For such members of the class as know the birds well, the instructor 
may assign other work, such as intensive specific observations on some 
one species of bird temporarily abundant and not too well known; 
observations on such matters as its haunts and nesting habits, food and 
feeding habits, voice and social habits, enemies and warning habits and 
mode of escape,etc. Or, better, such extended individual work as is 
outlined in Optional Study 6 on page 229. 


222 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


The record of this study may consist of a table of 
recognition characters of local song-birds, prepared with 
column headings as follows: 

Name of bird. 


Haunts (be as specific as the facts will warrant in indicating 
the kind of cover sought, and the habitual elevation, whether 
in the treetops or on the trunks, in the undergrowth or on the 
ground, whether near or far from water, etc.) 


At rest (give general color and chief 
markings with their location on the 
body—only such as can be seen at 

Recognition colors a short distance on the living bird). 

In flight (‘flash colors”; i. e., addi- 
itional markings that appear in 
outspread wings and tail). 


Perching attitude. 


Social habit (number seen together, resting or flying. 
State sex, also, when distinguishable). 


Voice (briefly characterize notes of monologue, of social 
converse and of song). 


Flight (undulating, straight or soaring: wing-strokes, 
continuous or intermittent, etc.). 


Familiarity (how close can you approach: estimate in 
yards). 


Remarks. 


XXXII. TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER 
LANDSCAPE 


“The birch tree throws a scarf of green 
Around her silver white, 
Woven of little polished leaves 
All delicate and bright, 
It sways with every passing air 
And shimmers in the light. 


Oh, like a Dryad nymph she stands, 
The birch tree, silver whitel 
And all day long that flowing veil 
Trembles for my delight. 
She stirs it as she moves in it 
As a young maiden might.” 
—Ethel Barstow Howard (The Fairy Tree). 


Out in the country, wherever we go, trees rise about us 
and bound our view. They make vistas along the road- 
ways; they fringe the streams; and they gracefully mass 
themselves about the shores of lakes and bays. In a new 
country, they cover the valley-side with a rich robe of green, 
and in an old country, they rise like oases about the homes 
that nestle among the cleared fields. In their shelter our 
race has always dwelt. When men settle upon a treeless 
prairie, they take trees with them and plant them cosily 
about for shelter, and use them to make a pleasing out- 
look by bordering the view from the windows of their homes. 

Trees furnish the chief elements of beauty in most land- 
scapes, and usually those views are the most pleasing that 
include the most trees. Near at hand, they rise about us 
like the giants that they are, and show their individual 
characters—their mighty trunks clad in bark, each with 
its own coloring and sculpturing; their great arms and 
crowns; and the elegant outlines of their leafy sprays out- 
spread against the sky. At a little distance they appear, 


223 


224 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


not as individuals, but as masses, with their architecture 
hidden, and their foliage piled in shocks of green, full of 
lights and shadows. And on the far horizon they are still 
in our view, spread out in innumerable companies in a 
long thin line where overspread with pale haze. 

The well-grown clump of trees shows us, from the out- 
side, only its leaves, with just enough of glimpses of support- 
ing framework to suggest stability. The leaves are all on 
the outside, spread out broadly to the sun. We put our 
head through the leafy cover to the inside and look up—and 
itis like looking into an attic, seeing beams and rafters in- 
stead of familiar roofs. Inside all is gray bare boughs 
forking, and forking again, and stretching up to and sup- 
porting the overshadowing leaf-cover. We examine the 
outside carefully, and we see that all the leaves are mutually 
adjusted to get the maximum benefit from the light. The 
removal of a single leaf alters and mars the adjustment; 
the overturn of a single spray sets it grotesquely awry. 

How the outside of a tree appears in the foreground of the 
landscape, depends on the size and form and number of its 
leaves, and on the way they are held up into the light. Foli- 
age masses are endlessly varied. They are cumulous masses 
in the sugar-maple—masses of broad, shade-resistant leaves 
heaped up and compound-heaped like the front of a thunder- 
cloud. They are cancellate masses in the white birch. with 
its small thin leaves in open order like latticework. They 
are frondose masses in ailanthus and sumac and other trees 
having compound leaves. They are soft and furry cylinders, 
rather symmetrically arranged, in the spruces and tamarack; 
and other trees show all grades between these types. Hick- 
ories are given to be a bit irregular, and to hold their sprays 
rather stiffly, while the beech lets the fringe of its leaf-cover 
run down in long ornate sprays, that are poised in the 
hollows of the woods with exquisite grace. The softest ef- 


TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER LANDSCAPE — 225 


fects of all are produced by the small pale leaves of the 
willow, which form fluffy cloudlike masses of green reposing 
by the stream-side. There are other, stricter-growing 
species of willow, whose shining leaves sparkle brightly in the 
sunlight. Wind changes the color of certain foliage masses, 
such as those of the white oak tribe, by overturning the 
leaves and exposing to view their paler under surfaces. It 
takes a hard wind to overturn the leaves of the speckled 
alder, but when overturned, they entirely change the aspect 
of the alder thicket. 

Endless are the tints of green, also, in the trees of the land- 
scape, ranging from the light silvery green of the white 
willow to the heavy somber green of the white pine. Nature 
uses other colors sparingly, only here and there lighting up 
the edge with a show of flowers, as with masses of Judas- 
trees, or flowering dogwood, or hawthorn. 

Nature adorns every species of tree with its own graces of 
form and color. None is like any other. Each looks best 
where it grows best; for the handsome tree is, indeed, the 
tree that is well grown. 

When we walk beneath the trees of a forest cover, the 
beauty of their foliage is lost on us, we are such pygmies, 
walking beneath it: we must climb to some point of outlook 
to see it. But when the wood is cleft, as by a stream, the 
leafage comes down softly to the ground in all its beauty. 
Viewing a steeply-rising wooded slope from the vantage 
of the opposite bank, we may see how nature uses trees. 
She plants them in masses, using a few of the best kinds in 
vast numbers, and scattering the others thickly, but not too 
thickly, about the edges. Always there is enough variety 
to maintain our interest, and enough repetition of like 
combinations to avoid weariness. Always there are vines 
about the edges for drapery; and in the openings, shrubs 
and herbage mask all the angles and cluster about well- 


226 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


grown full-leaved single trees. So, nature makes of every 
open woodland glade, a charming sylvan picture. 


Study 32. Observations on the Decorative Features of 
Tree Growth in Early Summer 


The weather, when this study is undertaken, must be such 
as will permit one to sit down out-of-doors and study for a 
time, with comfort, the details of the landscape outspread 
before him. If the student has no familiarity with the 
decorative values of foliage masses, let him read the preced- 
ing pages while sitting where illustrations of the foliage 
phenomena cited may be drawn from nature. One may 
often see many foliage types by looking out of his window 
over well-planted grounds, if native woods be absent. 

Photographic prints, (preferably blue-prints), of the scenes 
selected for special study, or maps showing outlines of tree 
masses, may be prepared in advance and supplied by the 
instructor. 


The program of work for this study may consist of: 

1. An examination of the scaffolding by means of which 
some broad-leaved tree holds its leaf masses up to the light, 
and a comparison of method in solitary and clustered trees. 
Also a comparison of inner and outer aspects of some small 
clump of trees. 

2. An examination of leaf sprays as to leaf arrangement 
and its relation to light exposure, and to the formation of 
the larger foliage masses that adorn the landscape. 


3. A detailed study of several landscapes, selected for 
the beauty and variety of tree growth within the view. 
Study the foliage masses formed by the different kinds of 
trees, comparing them as to color, form and texture, setting 
down as worthy of consideration whatever appeals to you 
as being good to look upon, and indicating the features of it 


TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER LANDSCAPE = 227 


that are to you pleasing. Also name the kinds of trees 
responsible for such effects. 
4. Comparison of well and ill-grown, fining trees of 
any species as to the decorative values of their leafage. 
The record of the work may consist of: 
1. Comparative diagrams showing framework and out- 
line of: 
(a) Asingle specimen tree, growing alone, unpruned. 
(b) A clump of several close-growing trees of the same 
kind, also unpruned, forming a unit mass of leafage. 
2. Comparative diagrams of leaf arrangement on a small 
undergrowth spray of such trees as elm, maple and larch. 
3. Indications (as footnotes to a photograph, or as 
explanations to a map, or otherwise, as preferred) of the 
character of foliage masses in the scenes studied, covering: 
(a) The kind of trees involved in each type. 
(b) Their height. 
(c) Relation of leafage to trunks, such, for example, as 
the contrast in the white birch. 
(d) Color of crowns (light or dark green, dull or shining, 
reactions to wind, etc.). 
(e) Texture (open or close, light or heavy and somber, 
etc.). 
(f) Form (mass outlines and spray relations, etc.), 
(g) Suited to a place in the foreground or in the back- 
ground; in the exposed or in the sheltered places; with 
reasons therefor. 


Individual Exercises for the Spring Term 


Five studies follow, which, like those for the Fall Term 
(pages 126 et seq.), are intended to be made by the student 
working alone. The first three may be entered upon early 
in the term (in our latitude); the other two are for the 
latter half of the term. 


Optional Study 6. A Calendar of Bird Return 


This study is available only to those who know the birds 
at sight, or who are willing to take the necessary trouble 
outside of this course to really make their acquaintance. 
Doubtful identifications will render the record quite worth- 
less. Permission to offer this record will therefore have to 
be obtained in advance of undertaking the work. 

The object of this study is to give opportunity for extend- 
ing personal acquaintance with our local migratory birds 
on the part of students who already know them by sight. 
Field observations, made at least once a week, may con- 
veniently be entered in a cross-ruled table having the left- 
hand column reserved for bird names, and each of the other 
columns devoted to one day’s observations, the date, time of 
day, and relevant weather conditions being written at the 
top. Following each bird’s name, there should be written 
in the proper date columns, the observations made upon it: 
number and sex seen at first appearance; arrival of sexes, 
and of young birds, separately; arrival of “waves” of 
migrants; etc. 


TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER LANDSCAPE = 229 


Optional Study 7. A Calendar of Spring Growth 


This study is for one’s own dooryard. It is intended to 
foster acquaintance with the plants one lives with all the 
while. These are apt to be choice things that have been 
sought out and planted, and other things that have come in 
unimvited, and that we call weeds. Nature makes no dif- 
ference in her treatment of them; the rain falls and the 
sun shines on them all alike. The following study should 
be made with like impartiality. It should continue through 
the entire term, observations of every actively growing 
species being made at least once a week. All kinds of door- 
yard or roadside plants are available, whether giant trees or 
puny herbs. 

For record, the observations may be entered in a cross- 
ruled table having the left-hand column reserved for plant 
names, and each of the other columns devoted to one day’s 
observations, the date being written at the top. Following 
the name of each plant, there should be written under proper 
date the first obvious swelling of the bud, the first leaf open 
(as determined by the exposure of its upper surface), the 
first flower open, the first fruit ripe, etc., and any other little 
idiosyncrasies of the plant that appear from time to time. 
Footnotes may be made to include observations for which 
there is not room in the table. 


Optional Study 8. A Calendar of Spring Flowers 


Observations on the blossoming of the early spring flowers 
is less work than pleasing pastime. It is worth while from 
every point of view; and this study is offered in the hope 
that more of it will be done voluntarily. 

If one would keep track of the flowers of his own locality, 
he should first know where the near-by places are in which 
the wild flowers abound, and then he should so lay out his 


230 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


walks as to cover the greatest variety of situations; for thus 
he will see the largest variety of flowers. 
For record, the field observations may be entered in a 
table prepared with the following column headings: 
Name (ask instructor if you do not know it, presenting, 
always, a specimen for identification). 
first appearance. 
maximum. 
last appearance. 


Date of 
blossoms 


Relation to leaf-unfolding (before, with, or after the leaves). 
Duration of a single flower (from first opening to withering). 
Movements of { with day and night. 

flower-parts ) with progress of flowering. 
Changes of color. 
Date of first fruit ripening. 


Remarks. 


Optional Study 9. Noteworthy Wild Flower Beds of the 
Farm 

Optional Study 10. Noteworthy Wild Shrubbery of the 
Farm 


These two studies are intended to encourage personal 
observations on the ornamental things growing wild on the 
farm; on their character, their requirements, and their avail- 
ability for making the farm more beautiful and more inter- 
esting. The data called for may easily be obtained in the 
course of walks afield for air and exercise. For record, blank 
tables, like those on pages 231 and 232 may be used. The 
flowers and shrubs therein named are such as are most 
available at Ithaca. : 


231 


9. NOTEWORTHY WILD FLOWER-BEDS OF THE FARM 


Best specimens I have 
seen of 


Location |Area covered 


Character of 
haunts 


Character 
of foliage 


Date of 
flowering 


1. Hepatica 

2. Rue Anemone 

3. Adder’s Tongue 

4. Moss-pink 

5. Trillium 

6. Columbine 

7. Bishop’s Cap 

8. Cranesbill 

9. May Apple 
1o. Iris 
Il. 

Others of your own 
selection 
12. 
BEST WILD FLOWER-GARDENS OF MIXED SORTS 
Location Components Seasenal anee of 

1. On level woodland 

2. On dry hillsides 

3. In wet swale, marsh 


or bog 


232 


10. NOTEWORTHY FLOWERING SHRUBBERY OF THE FARM 


Beet aa aaa Location |Area covered | Conditionst feces eae 


1. Azalea 


2. Maple-leaved 
arrowwood 


3. Elder* 
4. Flowering Dogwood 
5. Other Dogwood* 
6. Viburnum* 
7. Sumach* 
8. Witch Hazel 
9. Spicebush 
Io. Buttonwood 
11. Willow* 
12. Mountain Ash 
13. Juneberry 


14. Any other 


Pleasing Shrub Combinations 


1. Border plantings 
2. Cover plantings 


3. Mixed-specimen 
plantings 


*Any species, but specify which species. t Of moisture and sunlight. 


PART III 


STUDIES FOR SUMMER TERM 


XXXII. THE PROGRESS OF THE SEASON 


“Now ts the high tide of the year. : 
We sit in the warm shade and feel right well 
How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell; 
We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing 
That skies are clear and grass ts growing; 
The breeze comes whispering in our ear 
That dandelions are blossoming near, 
That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing.” 
—Lowell (A Day in June). 


Summer is here! 

The fields that were brown when overturned in the spring 
are now all green again. The desolation wrought by the 
plow was but to prepare them for a better growth. The 
cattle stand knee-deep in the grass. The butter is yellow. 
There is no bare ground in the garden of the thrifty house- 
' holder. Splendid flowers are blooming; nestlings are trying 
their wings. The earliest of the wild fruits are ripening; 
and living is easier for every creature. 

The spring rush is over and the great work of the heated 
season is on—the work of crop production. We speak 
figuratively of raising crops—that is nature’s work, not ours. 
All we can do is to arrange some of the conditions favoring 
their growth. We can remove their competitors and destroy 
their enemies and stir the soil about them, but nature makes 
them grow. 
® Most plants consume their food reserves in getting started 
in spring; then they settle down to the steady work of 
gathering new sustenance from the soil and from the air. 
Under natural conditions, they must act quickly when the 


"233 


234 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


season gets warm enough, in order to hold a place among 
aggressive competitors. To be outrun in the race for light 
is fatal. So, they put forth tender shoots with all the leaves 
they can carry, leaves being their working capital. So, 
in early summer, all the world is full of soft green tints. 
New growth is everywhere. In dark-hued evergreens, like 
hemlock and spruce, the contrast between the pale new 
shoots and the mature old ones is very striking. In the 
heat of summer the new growth will harden and new reserves 
of food will be accumulated. 

This is the ordinary routine for the larger perennial plants 
that are best suited to our temperate climate. But there 
are some little plants that avoid the strife of summer by 
making haste to finish all their work in the spring. Such 
is the narcissus, now withering on our lawns; and like it 
are the adder’s-tongue and the squirrel-corn, and many other 
early spring flowers that dwell under the heavy shade of the 
woods. Doubtless the onion grew originally where it was 
subject to late-season shading, and there acquired the habits 
which it still retains when grown in the open fields. 

Our field crops are mostly annuals, brought from various 
climes. Some, like oats, are natives of cold countries, and 
are sown early and mature early. Some, like corn, are semi- 
tropical, and are sown late and grow well only in hot weather. 
Our hottest spells are proverbial ‘‘corn weather’. Some, 
like wheat, spend a part of the season thickening up their 
“stand” by producing offsets from the bases before rising 
to full height and flowering. We plant one grain of corn for 
each stalk wanted in the field, but not so with wheat or 
timothy: seedlings of these, early in the season, produce 
at the surface of the ground a clump of buds, which later 
shoot up tall flowering stalks simultaneously. The wheat, 
after fruiting, dies, but the timothy goes on producing other 
offsets at the base, holding its ground after the manner of 
perennials, and getting ready for another season. 


t 


THE PROGRESS OF THE SEASON 235 


In nature, annual plants occupy the spaces left temporarily 
unoccupied by perennials. They fill the niches, both spatial 
and seasonal. So, when we move them into our open fields, 
they enjoy unaccustomed abundance of room and light. 
We change conditions and increase their yield, but we do 
not greatly change the nature of any of the plants. Out in 
the clover-field, we see a few stalks of rye that have sprung 
up where a seed fell and germinated. The swaying stems 
rise to thrice the height of the clover. Why this unnecessary 
length of stem, and undue exposure to the rude winds? 
We need only look at the wild rye growing among the forest 
undergrowth, to see in what conditions this growth-habit 
was acquired. There, all that length of stem in needed to 
reach effective light. 

We plant such spindling things closely for mutual sup- 
port, while to potatoes we allow plenty of ‘“elbow-room.” 
We till one crop and not another, according to their need 
of help in competition with weeds. We adjust our farming 
operations to the seasonal behavior of our very varied crops: 
for no adjustment the other way about is possible. Accord- 
ing to the temperature and time requirements of our crops, 
we make a series of plantings in spring and a succession of 
harvests in the summer. So, our ways conform to theirs. 

One who raises plants, gets pleasure out of his craft in 
proportion as he follows their idiosyncrasies, and knows 
what they are doing in root and branch or in flower and fruit, 
at every turn of the season. 


236 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Study 33. The Progress of the Season 


The program of this study includes a trip over the fields 
and gardens of the farm, map in hand, noting, inspecting 
and recording the more striking seasonal activities of the 
growing things. To determine whether vegetative increase 
of field-crop plants is going on, specimens will have to be 
dug up and examined root and branch. 


The record. 

1. On the map of the field, the principal crops may be 
recorded directly, and their stage of advancement briefly 
indicated. 


2. An annotated list may be made of all the crops ob- 
served, giving location (as by name or number of the field), 
area, stage of advancement (as germination, height, blossom- 
ing, etc.), condition (good, poor, weedy, infested with plant- 
lice, etc.). Include, besides field-crops, fruit and truck-crops 
and pastures. ‘ 


XXXIV. THE CLOVERS 


“Now, Cousin Clover, tell me in mine ear; 
Go’st thou to market with thy pink and green? 
Of what avail, this color and this grace? 
Wert thou but squat of stem and brindle-brown, 
Still careless herds would feed.” 
Sidney Lanier (Clover), 

“Knee-deep in clover” is a purely agricultural figure of 
speech. No one who has seen the pigs or the heifers turned 
out into a clover-field of a summer morning, will need to be 
told that it signifies complete and unalloyed satisfaction. 
Nor does it mean merely pleasures of the palate, even for 
the beasts; for they gaze on the clover, sniff at it and take 
deep breaths, and lie down and roll in it. Doubtless there 
was clover in Eden. 

There are many kinds of clover, and they are of varying 
utility to us. Of all groups of cultivated plants, there is 
hardly another that is intimately bound up with so many 
agricultural interests. Clovers furnish green forage, both 
for pasture and for soiling. They furnish hay—hay that 
sets a standard of quality for all other hay; hay so rich in 
proteins, it needs to be diluted with other forage for ordinary 
feeding; and that, alone, is ground and used like meal. 

The clovers also supply fertilizers to the soil, especially 
nitrogenous fertilizers: directly, when plowed under and 
decomposed; and indirectly, through the action of the 
nitrogen-gathering bacteria that live in the nodules on their 
roots. The practice of rotation of crops depends for its 
success largely on the work of the clovers in replenishing 
the supply of available nitrogen in the soil. Both by the 
deep penetration of their roots, opening up the hard subsoil 
to the ingress of air and water, and by the materials they 
contribute in their decay, they leave the soil in better condi- 


237 


238 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


tion for subsequent crops. 
Most other crops deplete 
the soil, but the clovers 
enrich it, and restore its 
fertility. 

The clovers also furnish 
®” the finest of the honey 
crop—especially white 
clover, which fills the land 
with the fragrance of its 
nectar in June. Among 
them are excellent soil- 
Bie: 86. bes eet (This and other binders for holding togeth- 

pared by Miss Olive N. Tuttle for this book. eT the surface layers of 

eroding hill ea excel- 
lent cover-crops for the orchard in the ’ 
dry season; and excellent plants for the 
lawn and the fence-row. 

And besides all these very practical 
matters, there is theirbeauty! Crimson 
clover, red clover, white clover—what 
neatness and elegance of design in the 
single sprays; what beauty of leaf form; 
what freshness of flowers! And in mass, 
also, they give fine landscape effects— 
the red outspread over the plain like a 
carpet of roses; the white sprinkled 
over the green hills like flakes of 
fugitive snow. 

All the clovers are deep-rooting herbs 
that grow in spreading tufts and bear 
trifoliate leaves, having stipules at the 
base of the leaf-stalk. They have smail 
flowers in clusters, and short, few-seeded = 4.87. Red clover. 


THE CLOVERS 


pods. The true clovers 
(members of the genus Tri- 
folium) produce their flowers 
in heads: the others (sweet 
clovers of the genus Meliz- 
lotus and the medics of the 
genus Medicago) bear them 
in more open spike-like 
racemes. Red and crimson 
clovers are the most striking 
species of the fields, but in 
northern latitudes our native 
white clover is the hardiest 
and the most widespread of 
all. It grows in fields and 
pastures and copses every- 
where, often from self-sown 
seed. Its creeping stems, 


Fic. 89. Alsike clover. 


239 


Fic. 88. White sweet-clover. 


striking root wherever they 
touch the ground, fit it for life 
in pastures andin lawns. From 
its sweet flowers, the whitest 
of all honey is gathered by the 
bees. Alsike clover is a similar 
but more robust, imported 
species, with lax stems, not 
rooting at the nodes, and with 
rose-tinted flowers. Buffalo- 
clover is another rather obscure 
native species, with piebald, 
red and white flowers. Then 
there are two other kinds of 


240 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


imported true clovers of very different 
appearance: the tall, branching, rab- 
bit’s foot clover, with its whitish corollas 
hidden among long and silky calyx 
lobes, which, combined together in the 
soft heads, suggest the name it bears; 
and two delicate little yellow-flowered 
hop-clovers. 

The sweet clovers are two species of 
tall fragrant roadside weeds, similar in 
appearance except that one bears white, 
and the other yellow flowers. The white 
sweet clover (fig. 88) is able to follow the 
road grader and take possession of and 
thrive in the 
| hardest and most 
os 

Brown). soils. 

The medics 
differ from the sweet clovers in 
having bent or spirally twisted pods, 
instead of straight ones. They also 
have shorter flower clusters. One of 
them, alfalfa, is of vast importance 
as a forage crop. It has purple 
flowers. Theothersare unimportant, 
yellow-flowered species that we find 
in waste places. 

Of all the array of clovers, only the 
white clover and a few of its nearest 
allies in the genus Trifolium are 
native American plants. But all of 
them are interesting and ‘worthy of 
a little careful study. Fic. 91. 


Yellow-hop clover. 


THE CLOVERS 241 


Study 34. The Clovers of the Farm 


The program of work for this study will consist of finding 
the clovers, wild and cultivated, growing on the farm, and 
digging them up and examining them, root and branch, 
flowers and fruit, and of making field observations on their 
habits, conditions of life, enemies and associates. 

The record of this study may consist of two tables of the 
clovers, one relating to the green plants, and the other to 
their flowers and fruits, prepared with column headings as 
indicated below: 


1. The Green Plants. 


Name (red clover, sweet clover, alfalfa, etc.). 
Duration (annual, biennial, short-lived or long-lived 
perennial). 
Height (average height in inches). 
Growth-habit (erect, trailing, creeping, etc.). 
Stem (stout or weak, cylindric or furrowed, straight or 
zigzag, etc). 
form (diagram of the compound leaf as a whole, 
including the basal stipules). 
color (light or dark green, markings, etc.). 
margin (diagram of edge of leaflet). 


Leaves 


form (diagram). 


Beer eee (relative size, form, abundance, etc.). 


Grows wild where (in what kind of soil and situation). 

Is grown with (what other cultivated plants, sown or 
associated). ; 

Is fed upon by (what animals: what insects). 

Farm uses (green forage hay, cover-crop. honey-crop, 
green manuring, lawn-cover, fence-row cover, etc.). 


Remarks. 


242 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


2. The Flower and Fruit 
Name (red clover, sweet clover, alfalfa, etc.). 


form (diagram a longitudinal section of 
it). 

No. of flowers (in an average entire 
cluster). 

No. of clusters (on a plant of average 
size). 


Flower-clusters 


corolla (color, form, etc.). 

calyx (length in relation to corolla, hairiness, etc.). 
fragrance 

visitors (insects seeking nectar). 


Flowers 


Seed-pod form (diagram). 
Size seeds (length by width in fractions of a millimeter: 
to measure, lay ten seeds, touching, on a metric rule 
(see p. 12); read, and divide by ten.) 


Remarks. 


XXXV. THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM 


“Excellent herbs had our fathers of old, 

Excellent herbs to ease their pain, 

Alexanders and Marigold, 
Eyebright, Orris and Elcampane, 

Basil, Rocket, Valerian, Rue “ 
(Almost singing themselves they run), 

Vervain, Dittany, Call-me-to-you, 
Cowslip, Melilot, Rose-of-the-Sun. 

Anything green that grew out of the mould 

Was an excellent herb to our fathers of old.” 

—Kipling (Our Fathers of Old). 


Our great demands upon the plant world are for food, 
clothing, and shelter. Given these essential things, we then 
demand other things for pleasure or adornment. To neces- 
sary plain food, we add flavorings; to textiles, we add dyes; 
to walls and roof, we add decorations; and then we enrich 
our social intercourse with garlands and wreaths and incense. 
We use these things because nature has placed them near at 
hand, and has made us to appreciate them. 

Nature has singularly commingled the bare necessities of 
our existence with the pleasant gifts of her bounty and with 
the things we may not use. They grow together out of the 
same soil, foods and sweets and poisons. Fortunately, our 
instincts guide us in a considerable measure in the choice of 
foods, for what nature has made most pleasing to our palate 
is, in general, most wholesome. There are, however, many 
wholesome plant products that are not at first pleasant to the 
taste, and there are poisonous fruits that are attractive in 
appearance. Nature has put into her plant products an 
endless variety of substances, nutritive, stimulating or 
poisonous, from which we may pick and choose. Moreover, 
she has so mingled these qualities in her products that their 
effect upon us depends upon our use of them. Foods are 


243 


244 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


stimulating if rightly used, and yet may act as poisons if used 
in exeess. Many poisons are used medicinally to stimulate 
the latent powers of the body: and most stimulants are 
poisons if too freely used. Between foods and medicines 
and poisons, no hard and fast lines can be drawn. Straw- 
berries and may-apples and other raw fruits act as poisons 
in the case of individuals. Many foods act like medicines 
on the system. Blackberries are mildly astringent: prunes 
are laxative: asparagus is diuretic: lettuce is soporific— 
these effects varying with personal idiosyncrasy. An editor 
of one of our leading agricultural journals, in an excess of 
enthusiasm, once wrote: ‘‘The virtues of the onion [in diet] 
render it a whole pharmacopeia in itself”. Truly, ‘what is 
one man’s meat may be another’s poison”’. 

It was one of the earliest tasks of mankind to explore the 
plant world and find out the source of foods and medicines 
and poisons. Primitive folk, by tasting and trying, dis- 
covered nearly all these plant resources that we know 
today. The cultivation of all our important food-plants 
antedates written history. There is hardly an American 
vegetable drug whose use was not known to the Indians 
before the coming of Columbus. 

In that day when every one garnered his living with his 
own hands, plant lore was knowledge of first importance. 
Experience was handed down by oral tradition. To what 
men knew about plants, was added much that they imagined. 
Before the days of botany, the best of this lore was published 
in herbals. These were great compilations of what was 
known or believed about the names, habits, and uses of 
plants. They included practically all known plants, and in 
the list of their “‘vertues’” nourishing and stimulating and 
curative properties are all set down together, side by side. 
The herbalists were very optimistic about plant virtues. 
Most plants were good for many of the ills of human flesh. 


THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM 245 


Fic. 92. Yellow sorrel. 


Everything was good for 
something, tho in some 
cases the good was un- 
discovered. Thus, Gerard 
says concerning ‘divers 
other wild campions”’ 
(Herbal, 2d ed. 1633, 
page 474): “The natures 
and vertues of these, as 
of many others, lie hid as 
yet, and so may con- 
tinue, if chance, or a 


more curious generation than yet is in being do not finde 


them out.” 


There is more than nourishment to be had from foods. 
The pleasures of the palate are inseparable from a good 


digestion and good 
assimilation. There are 
wholesome foods that 
cloy, and others that 
quicken. There are 
things, notin themselves 
nourishing at all, that, 
added in moderation to 
our diet, help to keep 
our nutritive machinery 
working efficiently, and 
so contribute to our 
welfare. 

Only foods proper are 
of sustaining value, but 
many harmless food ad- 
juncts, especially the 
milder flavorings of 


Fic. 93. Round-leaved mallow; the fruit (shown 
at the side) is known as ‘‘Cheese.”’ 


246 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


vegetable products, add to the zest of our eating and to the 
value of our diet. Of vegetable flavorings there is no end. 
There are acid flavors, like those of the leaves of the sorrels, 
long since supplanted in our diet by artificially prepared 
vinegars (yet what child of the field does not still nibble at 
sorrel leaves?). There are pungent flavors in the peppers 
and in many crucifers—in the leaves of the cresses, in the 
roots of radish and horse-radish, and in the seeds of pepper- 
grass and of mustard. It is flavor and not food that children 
get from chewing mallow “‘cheeses’’ (fig. 93), or slippery- 
elm bark, or linden buds. There are pleasant oleraceous 
flavors in kale and cabbage and cauliflower; and then there 
are the flavors of the savory herbs, the subject of this study. 
The beasts also desire these 
pleasant adjuncts to their diet. 
Cats like catnip and valerian. 
Dogs like certain of the goose 
foots. Cattle love to crop the 
twigs of apple and hawthorn 
Fic. 94. A pair of leaves of catnip. and even the shoots of the 
poison-ivy and other plants 
that are to us harmful. Wild deer are fond of nettles. 
Horses like their hay best when it is fragrant with the natural 
aromatic oils of certain of the grasses, well preserved by 
proper curing. It is noticeable that in these animals, as in 
ourselves, taste and smell are intimately associated. The cat 
not only bites the leaves of the catnip to taste them, but he 
sniffs of them and rolls himself upon them, so as to carry the 
aroma with him. Then he licks his fur in complete satis- 
faction. 

Savory herbs, possessing fine aromatic scents and flavors, 
have been sought out and used by all the races of men. They 
have figured in the ceremonials of all religions, serving for 
perfume, for incense, or for purification. They have served in 


THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM 247 


public gatherings in hall, chancel and theater to make 
pleasing unobtrusive appeal to the senses. ‘English litera- 
ture is redolent of all the sweetest leaves and flowers of 
English gardens” (Barbidge). 

Herbage-scents are not transient and effusive, like the odors 
of the flowers. They last through the life of the plant itself, 
and are often sweetest in the dried herb. They are faint and 
ethereal, like the delicate scent of sweetbrier leaves distilling 
into the motionless air of a summer evening after rain. Or 
they may not be noticeable at all unless the foliage producing 
them be rubbed or bruised. 

It was for this reason that our grandmothers planted 
lavender and rosemary and balm close beside the garden 
paths, where their leaves would be brushed by the clothes of a 
person passing, liberating the fragrance. They prized 
these for the garden in summer, and such sweet things as 
lemon-verbena and rose-geraniums for the window-garden in 
winter. It is because herbs yield their fragrance most 
abundantly when crushed or bruised, that they were used of 
old as ‘‘strewing herbs.’’ They were scattered in the path of 
a bridal or other procession, to raise a pleasing perfume when 
crushed by passing feet. 

Aromatic herbs are mainly such as secrete essential oils in 
leaves or seeds or roots. They belong mainly to two families 
of plants: the mints and the umbelworts. Well-known, 
often cultivated members of the mint family are sage, thyme, 
spearmint, peppermint, sweet majoram, summer savory, 
balm, basil, catnip, pennyroyal, bergamot and horehound. 
The garden umbelworts include anise, coriander, caraway, 
parsley, etc. Single representatives of other plant families 
are ginger, orris-root, sweet-flag, sweet-fern, musk-mallow, 
dill and wintergreen. 

Such names as those just mentioned at once suggest many 
uses these have served. The flavoring of foods may well have 


248 THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


been the earliest of these. Gerard reports Pliny as having 
said that ‘‘The smell of mint doth stir up the minde and the 
taste to a greedy desire of meat’’; and for himself he adds, 
‘Mint is marvellous wholesome for the stomacke’’. (Herbal, 
p. 681). To the modern cook or confectioner, the herbs 
themselves are hardly known, tho 
their essences are used to excess. 
But our great grandmothers knew 
them, grew them, cut them, cured 
them and then seasoned with them. 
The plants were gathered about the 
‘time when their first flowers were 
opening, dried rapidly to preserve 
their essential oils, and put away 
for winter use. Then they were 
used with discrimination. It was 
experience, not chemical analysis, 
that settled upon sage and summer 
savory aS proper seasoning for sau- 
sage and roasts; upon parsley and 
thyme as suitable for stews and 
soups. 
Our grandmothers made tea from 
: sage, mint, horehound, balm, catnip, 
Fic. 95. Pennyroyal. pennyroyal, ete. It was a com- 
mon practice to steep a quarter 
of an ounce of the dried leaves in a half pint of boiling 
water, and then strain and sweeten to taste. Such teas 
were at once beverages and “simple home remedies.” 
Pennyroyal tea was used to promote perspiration. Hore- 
hound was good for colds. Each herb had its virtues, and all 
of them had the great merit of being rather harmless when so 
prepared and administered. If one had a cold, a pleasant 
cup of horehound tea (happily supplemented by good hygienic 


THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM 249 


measures) gave him the pleasant feeling that he had ‘‘done 
something for it.” 

Our forefathers were making use of the antiseptic proper- 
ties of the aromatic oils, when they burned as incense the 
herbs containing them to make the air of public halls more 
wholesome. Sprigs of lavender were laid in clothes-presses, 
both to repel moths and to impart a delicate odor to the 
garments that were stored 
therein. Pulverized leaves 
of many aromatic herbs 
were putin scent-bags, and 
pillows, and extracts from 
them were used for per- 
fuming baths and lotions, 
and pomades and oint- 
ments. All these were 
ministrations to the human 
sense of smell—the most 
subtle of all our senses. 

A garden of scented 
herbs was a household 
necessity in that day, . 
before the advent of super- 
abundant bottled scents, 
when discriminating use 

Fic. 96. Watermint. of herbs was intimately 
bound up with all the 

little refinements of life. It is still a mark of household 
culture. But only a few of the many fine herbs available are 
much planted, and of these, few are indigenous. Every 
fertile country has its own fragrant herbs, and it were well if 
every householder who plants a scented garden should seek 
out the wild fragrant things native to his own locality— 
things that the gardener’s catalog knows not—and use them 


250 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


also in situations appropriate to them. By the waterside are 
marsh-mint (Blephila ciliata) and watermint (Mentha cana- 
densts), as sweet as any mints of the gardens. On the hilltops 
are fine wild bergamots and basils, sweet-fern (fig. 80), fra- 
grant everlasting (fig. 130), odorous goldenrod, and other 
sweet things, having scents in pleasing and endless variety. 
These are among the wild th’ngs that every one should 
know. 


Study 35. Aromatic Herbs of the Farm 


The program of work for this study will consist of a trip 
along fence-row, brookside, waste places, and woods, devoted 
to finding the wild aromatic herbs. Test all kinds of foliage 
by drawing it through the hands and smelling of it. Test 
barks and woods also. Certain odorous roots such as sweet 
Cicely and sarsaparilla, should be dug up and crushed and 
tested; also the seeds of any umbelworts found ripe. A few 
rank-smelling aromatics, like richweed, should be included, 
by way of contrast. A look-in upon the aromatics of an herb 
garden may conclude the work. 

The record of this study may well consist of a table of 
aromatic herbs, prepared with column headings as follows: 

Name (of plant). 

Grows where (in what sort of place, wet or dry, sun or 
shade, etc.). 

Growth-habit (erect, trailing, creeping, climbing, twining, 
etc.). 

Part aromatic (leaves, stem, root, seed, etc.). 

Character of aroma. 

Suited to what use. 

Remarks. 


THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM 251 


An additional study on 
The Fragrant Trees and Shrubs of the Farm 


may be made if desired, following the same plan, and 
using for record a table with the same column headings, 
adding one for height. More attention should then be paid 
to fragrant woods, like those of sassafras, spicebush and cedar, 
and to their products of gums, resins, and oils, like those of 
cherry, balsam and pine. Food-flavors will, of course. be less 
in evidence; flavors for manufactured products, more 
common; things for medicinal use, about as with herbs. 


XXXVI. THE TREES IN SUMMER 


“Under the greenwood tree 
Who loves to lie with me, 
And tune his merry note 
Unto the sweet bird’s throat, 
Come hither, come hither, come hither.” 
—Shakespeare (As You Like It). 


In summer we live nearest the trees. We exchange our 
solid roofs for their latticed crowns, and sit beneath them in 
the open air. They spread green canopies above us, all 
fringed with beautifully sculptured leaves. Broad-leaved 
trees with the densest crowns, like hard maples, we like best 
for shade: these best exclude the sun. 

In summer, the characters of boughs and buds, which have 
served us best for winter studies of deciduous trees (see 
Study 9 on page 71), are somewhat obscured by the foliage; 
but the leaves in themselves offer ample recognition marks 
instead. The species of tree is usually to be told from a 
single leaf; for each kind, though variable in lesser details, 
has a form and a structure and a texture of its own. The 
differences are sometimes extraordinary, as in the leaf types 
shown in figure 97: but even when the leaves of two species 
look very much alike, there are apt to be minor differ- 
ences of outline, of venation, of margin, of hairiness, of 
Tength of leaf-stalk, etc., by which the, two may be distin- 
guished. 

In summer, the trees are busy. Each one is increasing, 
as much as it can, its hold upon the earth and its spread into 
the sunlight. To every living twig it is adding new growth. 
Until full stature is attained, it adds long leafy shoots at 
each sunlit tip; and afterwards, and underneath in the 
shadow, it adds enough new growth to hold a few green leaves 


252 


THE TREES IN SUMMER 253 


every year so long as the tip remains alive. Wherever there 
is an opening in the crown, adjacent twigs tend to crowd 
into it and fill it up. 

In summer, the trees are flowering and fruiting. A few 
of them, like the tulip tree and the magnolias, have very large 
flowers. A few, like the maples and the linden or basswood, 
have smaller nectar-bearing flowers that are thronged by 
bees and other insects. Basswood, indeed, stands next to 


m 
Fic. 97. Leaf outlines; m, sycamore; n, red oak. 


white clover in the quality of the honey it yields. Most of 
the larger trees have small and inconspicuous flowers, that 
shed their pollen lavishly and depend on the wind for its 
distribution. Some trees, like the soft maples, flower early, 
and ripen and shed their fruit before the summer is well under 
way; and others, like the black oaks, hasten slowly, taking 
two years for maturing a crop of acorns. So, at any time, 
we shall find some trees bare of flower and fruit, and others 
with one or both in various stages of development. There 
is nothing more interesting about the trees than this wonder- 
ful variety of habit. How interesting they are, you may 


254 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


never know by merely reading about them: it can only 
be learned at first hand. 


Study 36. Observations on the trees in summer 


The program of work for this study will consist of an 
examination of the crowns of a dozen or more of the com- 
monter deciduous native trees, principally as to their habits 
of growth and the characters of their leaves, flowers and 
fruit. A few flowering and fruiting boughs of each tall- 
growing species should be previously pruned and brought 
down to earth for common use. 

The record of this study may consist of one or the other 
or both of the following tables, according to the needs of the 
student. Table 1, 6n recognition characters of the green 
tree, is intended for those who have not already a good 
acquaintance with these characters, such as is prerequisite 
to the work on reproductive habits that is outlined in the 
second table. The tables (to contain only original observa- 
tions) may be prepared with column headings as indicated 
below. 


1. Table of Growth-Characters of Trees 


Name. 

Height (estimated height of a mature tree, in feet or 
meters). 

Growth-habit (see page 73 and figure 4o). 

[type (simple or compound). 

arrangement (opposite, alternate, whorled, etc.). 

form (diagram a single leaflet, if compound). 

Leaves size (length by width in inches). 

surface (rough or smooth, dull or shiny, hairy or 
spiny, etc.). 

margin (diagram a bit of it). 


Shoots 3 


fe 


THE TREES IN SUMMER 255 


maximum length (length of one season’s growth 
in young trees, not crowded). 

minimum, length (length of one season’s growth 
of over-shadowed twigs). 

number of 2 date (on average new shoots). 

leaves last season (as indicated by old leaf- 

developed | scars). 

growth season (early, medium, or late, or all- 
season). 


2. Table of Characters of Flowers and Fruits 


Name. 
Date. 


Flowers 


(Fruiting height (flower and fruit 
borne at what distance from 
the ground, measured along bole 
and branch). 

of single flower (diameter in milli- 
meters). 

of cluster (length and breadth in 
millimeters). 

as to sex (perfect—z.é., stamens and pistils in the 
same flower; moncecious—.e., stamens and 
pistils in different flowers on same plant; or 
dicecious—12.é., stamens and pistils borne on 
different plants). 

of clusters(diagram; twice, if of two 
sorts). 

of flower (diagram in longitudinal 
section, showing parts). 


as to size 


as to form 


( color. 


256 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


arrangement (diagram in position on stem; in 
cluster, if it grows in one). 

Fruit jstage (proportion of growth attained to date). 

structure (diagram single fruit in section, or in 

whatever way will best convey anidea of it). 


This table should include only such facts as may be ob- 
served on the date when the study is made. Blank spaces 
in it will then be significant as indicating different seasonal 
habits on the part of different trees. 


XXXVII. WEEDS OF THE FIELD 


“In the garden more grows 
Than the gardener sows.” 
—Spanish Proverb. 

Weeds were notinvented by the Devil to plague the farmer. 
Oh, no. Weeds were here before there were farmers. They 
were here holding their own on the bits of fallow ground nature 
allowed them—on the new-made bar left by a receding flood; 
on the denuded slope laid bare by a landslide; in the ashes of 
a devastating fire: wherever there was a bit of soil left open, 
weeds were ready to enter in and possess it. 

Weeds were fewer before the days of agriculture than now; 
for nature kept most of the land occupied with more per- 
manent crops. It is due to the farmer himself that weeds 
have become so abundant. The farmer turns the soil and 
makes it ready for new occupants. He could not prepare it 
more to the liking of the weeds if he were doing it expressly 
for their benefit. They like the tilth of soil his plow and 
harrow yield; they like his tillage and his fertilizers; they 
like his dust-mulch; and, if they do not chance to be up- 
rooted, they show their appreciation by lusty growth. What 
magnificent specimens of weeds they do become in a rich 
field. The wild ones of the same species that we find in the 
woods are puny things in comparison. 

Weeds have a wonderful way—it takes a figure from the 
language of business to express it—a wonderful way of 
“getting in on the ground floor’. The field is no sooner pre- 
pared than they are found occupying it. They nearly all 
spring from seeds, and their seeds have great facility at 
getting about. Seeds of dandelion, thistle, hawkweed, etc., 
travel by air and settle in every field. Seeds of cocklebur, 
burdock, pitchforks (fig. 39), etc., travel by pack animals, 


257 


258 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


and go wherever the animals carry them. These are less 
ubiquitous. Other seeds of weeds are distributed with the 
mud that adheres to the feet of men and animals, and to the 
wheels of vehicles. This is the chief mode of distribution for 
our commonest weeds. The seeds become embedded in a 
thin layer of mud, and when dropped, find themselves well 
situated for growing. This method properly plants them. 
They travel, also, with the farmer’s cargoes; with his hay and 
straw and feed and with his imperfectly winnowed grain; and 
they are distributed along with these commodities to remote 
regions. So, in any place, we find the new and unusual 
weeds, like our western oxybaphus, and the Russian thistle, 
first appearing along the railroad track, where dropped from 
passing cars. 

Weeds are such opportunists; they make the most of small 
favors. If they can not get more, they will take less. One 
well-fed cocklebur plant in a rich cornfield may attain an 
almost treelike stature, and another, whose lot is cast on a 
barren sand-bar, may not attain a finger-height. But the 
latter does not give up because soil is barren and water scarce. 
It may develop only a few leaves and bear only one bur, but it 
ripens good seed in that bur, and is ready for the next season’s 
opportunity. Dandelions, in rich meadows, grow often knee- 
high to a man; but on the lawn, after repeated clipping, 
they will bloom so close to the ground that the mower passes 
harmlessly over their heads. Morning-glories, finding no 
trellis at hand, will cheerfully accept a cornstalk in its stead, or 
in the absence of all support, will spread over the bare ground. 

Nature sows many kinds of seeds in every field. Some of 
her sowings are welcome, like that of blue-grass in the fields 
that we are turning into pasture. Most of them come to 
nought because the seedlings cannot withstand tillage. They 
fall before the first onslaught of the cultivator. Fortunately for 
the farmer, thisis the fate of nearly all plants that spring from 


WEEDS OF THE FIELD 259 


seeds that travel by air. There are others, however, that 
have staying qualities, and they are the troublesome 
weeds. 

Obviously, there is no hard and fast line to be drawn 
between weeds and other plants. Buckwheat, when sown 
as a field crop one season, may spring up as a weed in the 
midst of the corn crop next season. Some very bad weeds, 
like mustard and wormseed, are raised as crops for their seed. 
Some, like dandelion, are eaten as 
salads. Many, indeed, of the weeds 
of the field are eaten by live stock, 
and, like pig-weed and purslane, at 
once disappear when fields are turned 
into pastures. Some weeds, like 
mallow, mullein, and yarrow, have 
beautiful foliage,’ and others, like 
morning-glory, daisy and _ thistle, 
have splendid flowers. 

Weeds, like other plants, have their 
preferences as to situations. Pitch- 
forks and the larger docks like abund- 
ant moisture, and cluster in low 
ground. Abutilon and jimson-weed 
do well only in rich soil, while rag- 
siding ee sts weeds! % Weed and foxtail flourish on poor soil. 

Pigweed and lamb’s-quarters and 
crab-grass love the garden and the edge of the manure heap. 
In dooryards and along paths where much trampling keeps 
down the tall weeds, low-growing things, like dandelion and 
plantain, or prostrate tough-stemmed things, like mallow 
(fig. 93) and doorweed, thrive. Obviously, prostrate 
plants, that cast so thin a shadow as do doorweed and spurge 
(fig. 100), are not a match for taller weeds and can flourish 
only on bare ground. 


4 


260 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Successful weeds must be able to thrive on the treatment 
accorded to the crop with which they grow. In our study of 
pasture plants (Study 6, p. 52), we found that the weeds of 


Fic. 99. Sun prints of chamomile and carrot. 


give the farmer the most trouble. 
petitors. 

The farmer gives them as bad 
planting time. He buries their 


pasture, like the forage 
plants there, are chiefly 
perennials that are able 
to withstand browsing 
and trampling. So, in 
the fields, they must be 
able to mature a crop 
within the lifetime of the 
cultivated species with 
which they are associated. 
Since good plowing puts 
an end to both alike, a 
new start must be made 
from seed. Between plow- 
ing and plowing, there- 
fore, a new crop of seed 
must be matured. Hence, 
the important weeds of 
the cornfield are annuals. 
Perennials are of little 
consequence in tilled fields. 
The weeds that in season 
and habits and require- 
ments are most like the 
crops with which they 
grow, are the ones that 

They are natural com- 


a handicap as possible at 
seed deeply by plowing, 


the soil, and at once he plants seed of his own crop at the 


WEEDS OF THE FIELD 261 


depth most favorable for quick and early growth. Certain 
plants, like buckwheat, that grow up quickly, smothering the 
weeds, are often used to clean a weedy field. Potatoes, on 
the contrary, being slow to appear above ground, are certain 
to be beaten in the occupation of the soil by many weeds. 
So they are often tilled just before they appear above the 
ground. The weed seedlings are easily killed when little. 
Tillage breaks their mooring in the soil. The weeds are thus 


t 39h 3 


Fic. 100. Sun prints of weeds, showing the extent to which they shade 
the ground. 1, paint-brush; 2, moth-mullein; 3, evening primrose; 
4, creeping spurge; 5, door-weed or goose-grass. - 


given a second setback, while the stout potato shoots come 
along uninjured. The farmer ought to be something of a 
naturalist, for his success in handling plants must needs be 
based on observations of their habits, their powers, and their 
requirements. 

The farmer might save himself much labor of exterminating 
weeds in his fields, if he was more careful not to encourage 
their growth outside the fields. He provides too many 
reserves for them in roadside and barnyard and fence-row. 
Enormous crops of weed seeds are matured in such places. 
It is not enough to keep the fields clean. The fence-row 
may be a source of reinfestation. A clean field may 


ae 
ee 


Fic. 101. 
a seed-leaves; 


m 


especially, is used with too little judgment. 


Leaves of rag-weed at all ages; 
b,c, d, e, successively older 
leaves; m,n,0,,q,7,5, leaves successively 
formed on a fruiting spray; z, a fruiting tip. 


NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


be infested with seeds in 
manure from a weedy 
‘barnyard; or with seeds 
carried in by the stock 
turned on to feed; or with 
seeds gathered from a 
weedy roadside and carried 
in on wagon wheels. 

The farmer, above all 
persons, should know that 
nature will be raising 
something on every bit of 
ground; and that if he 
destroy her more perman- 
ent crops, that something 
will be weeds. Weeds fol- 
low the ax and the scythe 
and the plow as summer 
followsspring. Thescythe, 
The altogether 


harmless and altogether beautiful goldenrods and asters 


fringing many a roadside are 


mown to extermination to 


make a place for ragweeds and mulleins to grow. The 


native shrubbery under the 
trees is cut away to make a 
place for burdocks. Such 
sort of self-inflicted vandalism 
destroys the beauty of the 
farm and increases its drud- 
gery. If the farmer is so 
ignorant that every green 
thing, that is not a crop- 
plant, is to him a weed and 


Fic. 102. Better than weeds in the fence- 
row—the maple-leaved viburnum. 


to be treated accordingly, then in increased labor and 
in thesweat of his browhe must pay the cost of his stupidity. 


WEEDS OF THE FARM 263 


Study 37. Weeds of the Field 


The program of work for this study will consist of a trip 
about the fields containing both tilled and untilled crops, 
examining all the common weeds occurring in each, and com- 
paring them and writing their characters in a table prepared 
with the following headings: 

1. Name (ask the instructor if you do not know it). 

2. Height (or length of stem, if horizontal, in inches). 

3. Growth-habit (erect, spreading, trailing, creeping, 
climbing, twining, etc.). 

4. Root (form, depth and strength of attachment to soil). 

5. Leaf (diagram, and state size, length and width inmm.; 
of a leaflet, if compound). 

6. Flower or flower-cluster (diagram). 

Size. 
7. Seeds. -} Form (diagram). 
Mode of dispersal. 
8. Preferred situation. 
Name (of crop in which weed is found). 
Stage (time elapsed since seeding). 
Spacing (average interval between plants each 
way as expressed in inches). 

The record of this study will consist of: 

1. The above table complete for at least a dozen weeds. 

2. Lists of all weeds found in corn field, wheat field, etc., 
arranged in what appears to be the order of their abundance 
and harmfulness there. Note that not numerical abun- 
dance, but bulk and aggressiveness are here intended. 

3. Comparative diagrams for half a dozen weeds, illus- 
trating peculiarities of growth-habit, or mode of increase, or 
mode of seed distribution, that make them factors in the 
competition of the fields. 

4. Amap of the farm, with the centers of possible dispersal 
of seeds of noxious weeds marked in red upon it. 


Crop. 


2 


XXXVIII. SUMMER WILD FLOWERS 


“He is happiest who hath power 
To gather wisdom from a flower, 
And wake his heart in every hour 
To pleasant gratitude.” 
—Wordsworth. 

The splendor of summer would not be complete without its 
splendid flowers. They punctuate the slopes. They adorn 
the roadsides. They mellow the air with fragrance. They 
fill the fields with the humming of bees, and with the flashing 
wings of brilliant butterflies. 

The summer flowers are not like those of spring. They 
grow more openly, and fling out their colors like banners 
by the roadsides. Spring flowers 
flash up on fragile evanescent 
stems, solitary or in little clusters 
of unstudied grace; but the summer 
flowers take their time, developing 
first strong stems and abundant 

— leafage, and then producing great 

bY | compound clusters in fine mechani- 

caladjustment. Saint John’s worts 

Fig. 103, Turtleheads (Che and campions and sunflowers and 
ne glabra) a, the flower from ise : 

the sine, 2 oe with a daisies—how lustily they crowd to 

fill the wayside with their banked- 
up foliage masses, and then how gloriously they bloom! 

Summer flowers are, mostly, rather small, and produce 
their brilliant effects by the massing of great numbers together. 
A few large ones, like wild roses, are solitary. Others of 
moderate size like gerardias and other figworts are hung 
out in open panicles; those of the common mullein are in 
long stiff erect spikes. Many of the mint flowers are in 
shorter and denser spikes, but most of the lesser flowers are 

264 


SUMMER WILD FLOWERS 265 


arranged in flat-topped clusters, 
either heads or umbels. 

The clustering of the flowers 
is directly related to visitation 
by insects, the distributors of 
their pollen. Close grouping 

greatly economizes labor on the 
‘io part of ther yuiters, A bes 
must pass from one pea flower 
to others by separate flights, but a score of flowers massed 
together into a clover head may be visited without interven- 
ing flight, and with only a slight 
turning of the body about while 
standing on the top of the cluster. 
While insects are most abundant in 
the summer season, flowers most j 
abound then, also; and there is pic. 105. side view of the ab- 
competition for.the services of the  fomfn.cf@ bee, showing pollen 
bees. 

Their patronage is desired. So the flowers in their natural 
evolution have perfected ways of drawing visitors, that 
singularly parallel the methods of the corner grocery in 

‘ drawing trade. First, they get in a stock of 
: desirable goods—nectar and pollen. Then they 

j 


advertise that they have got it and are ready 
for business. They advertise with bright colors 
and attractive odors. Their signs are showy 
corollas that often bear special ‘‘guide marks’’ 
about the entrance. Then they array their 
wares to suit their visitors’ convenience. They 
set their open corollas all out in line on a nar- 
row spike as at a common counter; or, they 
Fic. 106. Fol. spread them out flatwise in a head or corymb 


len -gathering 


ok tos or umbel, as on a common table. This last 


266 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


arrangement is doubtless most convenient for the visitors; 
it is the one most commonly adopted, and most successful. 
And as there are groceries that cater to a select and limited 
patronage, so there are flowers that put their nectar out of 
reach of common visitors, and reserve it for those that 
are epecially endowed—not with long pocketbooks, but 
with long proboscides. They secrete their nectar at the 
bottom of deep and narrow corolla tubes or spurs, or behind 
barriers of sharp offensive spines, or glandular hairs. The 
nectar of certain 
trumpet-iike con- 
volvulus flowers can 
be sucked only by 
long-tongued hum- 
ying-bird moths. 
That in the tightly- 
closed bilabiate 
corollas on the mon- 


key-flowers can be 


Fic. 107. Beard-tongue (Pentstemon pubescens) a, the 
flower; b, section of the same, showing the trigger- had only by bum- 
like bearded upper stamen, which is declined so that bleb 
The insect the stalks a the Pollen bearing, stamens. ebees 

e insect, entering where indicate y the arrow, 2 
am clutching this stamen a peuen Sect the ante strength to open 
own upon its own ack. rom the author’s 
“General Biology."’) the mouth of the 


having 


corolla and enter. 

So, when we watch the flower-clumps in the fields, we shall 
see but few visitors about such specialized flowers as turtle- 
heads (fig. 103), and butter-and-eggs, while the’ outspread 
tables of open corollas of such as meadowsweet (fig. 104) 
and wild carrot are thronged with visitors of many sorts. 
The colors of summer flowers are in themselves very 
beautiful and satisfying. Their forms are wonderfully varied 
and interesting. But colors and forms are alike increasingly 
instructive when we learn what roll they fill in the drama of 
life. And we shall enjoy our contact with nature better 


SUMMER WILD FLOWERS 267 


when we have grasped the fact that in the world of flowers 
or elsewhere, “there is no beauty apart from use.” 


Study 38. Summer Wild Flowers 


The program of work for this study should include a trip 
to the field for collecting wild flowers and studying their 
characters and habits. All the showier sorts of wild flowers 
of one small locality should be observed, gathered and 
compared. They will be found in uncultivated places by 
the roadside and streamside and in the woods. They will 
show great differences in color and form and attractions to 
insect visitors. Many of their characters will appear curious 
and inexplicable if studied only indoors and apart from their 
environment; but in the field, when the day is bright and 
calm and insects are abundant, one may see exactly what 
the most puzzling of floral structures are good for, by seeing 
their mechanism in action. 

The record of this study may consist of an annotated list 
of the flowers studied, illustrated with a few simple diagrams 
of flowers or clusters, etc., where possible. 

The notes should cover: kind of plant, manner and place 
of growth, sort of flower-clusters, of flower, its color, odor, and 
general attractiveness to visitors and means of attracting 
them. 


XXXIX. SOME INSECTS AT WORK ON FARM 
CROPS 


“That which the palmerworm hath left hath the locust eaten; and that 
which the locust hath left hath the cankerworm eaten; and that which the 
cankerworm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten. 

Awake, ye drunkard, and weep; and howl, all ye drinkers of wine, 
because of the new wine; for it is cut off from your mouth. 

For a nation 1s come up upon my land, strong, and without number, 
whose teeth are the teeth of a lion, and he hath the cheek-teeth of a great lion. 

He hath laid my vine waste, and barked my fig-tree: he hath made it 
clean bare; and cast it away; the branches thereof are made white.” 

—The Book of Joel, 1:4-7. 


Before there were farms, the plants we cultivate all had 
their insect enemies. They developed together in the wild- 
wood. The primitive farmer sought out the valuable crop- 
plants and brought them into his fields. The insects came 
along with them, uninvited. 

The making of fields disturbed the nice balance of nature. 
The massing together of plants that grew sparingly in the 
wildwood, made it possible for their insect enemies to find 
unusual food supplies, and to develop in extraordinary 
numbers. Potato beetles, hatched in the garden, find food 
plants waiting for them in abundance; they do not have to 
search the mountain-side for a few straggling wild plants on 
which to lay their eggs. Thus the farmer has made easier 
conditions for them, and: is himself responsible for their 
unusual increase. It is because he has aided their increase 
that he now must take measures for their destruction. 

Each kind of plant has its own insect enemies. Different 
ones work in its leaf, its stem, its root or its fruit. No part is 
exempt from attack. Some insects feed openly upon the 
plant; others are concealed, as stem-borers and leaf-miners. 
Some, like the aphids, feed in great companies; others are 
solitary. A few scale insects attach themselves to the bark 


268 


SOME INSECTS AT WORK ON FARM CROPS 269 


Fic. 108. A leaf-devouring caterpillar 
(Acronycta) on button-bush. 


and remain in one position. 
Most insects appear during 
only a portion of the season, 
and often several different 
insects follow one another 
in a regular succession of 
depredations. 

Ofinsects that feed openly 
upon the crops of our fields, 
there are two classes that 
affect the plant tissues diff- 
erently, and that we have 
to deal with differently. 
These are biting insects and 
sucking insects. The former 


are armed with jaws, and consume the tissues of the plant: 
the latter are armed with sharp puncturing beaks, and they 
merely perforate the tissues and suck up the fluid contents. 
Biting insects are beetles and grasshoppers and cutworms 
and many large caterpillars that consume parts of plants 


bodily, and many lesser leaf-skele- 
tonizers of various groups that eat 
the soft superficial tissues, leaving 
the more solid framework of the 
leaves intact. All these are con- 
trolled by spraying or dusting suit- 
able poisons (arsenate of lead, Paris 
green, etc.) upon the surface of the 
plant, to be eaten along with the 
plant tissues. The puncturing 
insects are bugs of various sorts and 
aphids and scale insects. These 
penetrate the epidermis with their 
beaks and suck out the plant juices 


Fic. 109. A sucking insect: the 
ted milk-weed bug (Oncopeltus 
fasciatus). 


270 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


from within. These thus escape poisons deposited upon the 
surface of the plant, and are killed by spraying only when 
some contact in- 
secticide (like kero- 
sene emulsion, or 
various prepara- 
tions of nicotine, 
etc.) is thrown upon 
their bodies. 
Both types of 
feeders we often find 
: side by side. We go 
ee aie Shae teed. eas eget intoa cabbage-field, 
eae oa Naa the colony; k, an aphid parasitized here tittle satit os 
butterflies flutter 
above the rows, and we find their green larvae, “‘cabbage- 
worms,” stretched at length upon the surfaces of the leaves, 
placidly eating out scallops in the margins. On loose cab- 
bage leaves we find whole colonies of 
minute gray-green aphids, ‘‘cabbage- 
lice’, sucking the sap out of the 
leaves and making them buckle and 
curl. : 
Most herbivorous insects are very ; 
limited in the range of their diet. "avuia “beetle “and its 
They will feed upon the plants of but = ““"™ 
a few species—usually closely related species. The common 
potato-beetle eats other things besides potato, but only a 
few other species of the same genus—other solanums. This 
is, for the husbandman, a very fortu- 
nate limitation. 
The worst of our field and garden 
: pests are species of insects from 
PE dutle fy tafe Maat, other lands. They have been brought 


SOME INSECTS AT WORK ON FARM CROPS 271 


to our shores along with imports of plant materials of various 
sorts. They have become established in our fields; but 
fortunately they attack only a few of our 
plants that are closely related to their own 
native food-plants. Pests like the brown-tail 
moth, having an unusually wide range of diet 
(including in this example the leaves of most 
of our deciduous trees), are unusually difficult 


Fic. 113. An aphid 
skin with a hole tO control. 


eros et Under natural conditions, there is an occa- 


emerged a pata- sional excessive increase of foraging insects. 
Hordes of them suddenly appear, and 

destroy the foliage of one or two species of plants. For 
this evil, nature has her own methods of control. She 
uses carnivores and parasites to keep each species in check. 
In the midst of the : 
aphid colony ona 
cabbage leaf, or on 
the curled tip of 
an aphid-infested 
apple spray, one 
may often see both 
predatory and 
parasitic foes of 
the aphids work- 
ing side by side to 
keep down the 
colony. Ladybird 
beetles and their 
larvae (fig. 111) 
consume the 


ap hids bodil Y- Fic. ate A pee moth ae ona Bieter 
H some of its parasites have spun their cocoons beside it, 
Lacewing fly lar- others, on be epi gs eis b, oe oe 
method of hatching out the adult parasites from the 

vae (fig. It 2) and cocoons. (From the author’s ‘‘General Biology’’). 


272 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


syrphus-fly larvae impale them and suck their blood. This 
destruction is wrought openly. But greater destruction is 
often wrought by minute parasites that feed unobserved 
on the internal tissues of the aphids. Their work is evident 
mainly in the dead and empty aphid skins, each with a 
round hole in its back from which a little winged parasite 
has emerged when fully grown. 


Study 39. Insects at Work on Farm Crops 


This study may be made at any time excepting when the 
vegetation is wet. The equipment needed will be lenses, 
insect nets, and cyanide bottles or vials of alcohol to hold the 
specimens of insects found, pending their identification. 

The program of work will consist of a trip into the field 
for collecting and observing the insects that are at work 
upon the crops. Many pests may be located by the dis- 
colorations and deformations of plant tissues they produce: 
curling of the tops, ragged outline of leaves, yellowing, etc. 
A few, like the potato-beetle larvae, are so conspicuous in 
color and position as not to be easily missed.. Some, notably 
aphids, chinch-bugs, etc., are in dense colonies; but most are 
solitary and protectively colored, and difficult to see. The 
grass and herbage is full of plant-bugs and caterpillars, that 
one would not notice ordinarily, but that are readily found 
by ‘‘sweeping”’ the leaves with a net. Then having found 
out what to look for and where to look, specimens may be 
observed at work upon the plant. Species working where 
less easily discovered, as in the stems or fruits, or under- 
ground on the roots, may be pointed out by the instructor. 
The treating of biting insects with food-poisons, and of the suck- 
ing insects with contact-insecticides, may be demonstrated. 

The work may cover either the commoner insects of a 
number of crops, or a more careful collation and comparison 
of all the pests present on some one crop. 


SOME INSECTS AT WORK ON FARM CROPS 273 


The record, in either case, may be an annotated and 
illustrated list of the insects found feeding. 

The notes should cover name and kind and size and stage 
of insect; its habits, the nature and extent of the injury it 
causes, etc. Simple diagrams may be made to illustrate its 
location on the plant and the character of its injury. 


XL. INSECTS MOLESTING FARM ANIMALS 


“Thou'rt welcome to the town; but why come here 
To bleed a brother poet, gaunt like thee? 
Alas! the little blood I have is dear, 
And thin will be the banquet drawn from me.” 
—Bryant (To a Mosquito). 


In the season of black-flies, no one goes into the North 
Woods except on business; though it is late spring and the 
flowers are blooming everywhere and all the world is fresh 
and inviting, the flies are in the woods by day, and the 
mosquitos and punkies are there by night, and there is no 
peace of life for man or beast. The lumber-jacks, who must 
labor there to earn a living, smear themselves with tar-oil 
and other fly-repellants. The wild deer leave the streams 

-and adjacent woods and go far out among the rushes in 

the open marsh, and stand half immersed in the water. 
The hogs in their pens root tip the bottom of the pools and 
trample and roll it into a soft paste, and coat themselves 
thickly with mud. This 
is fly-proof. The bison, 
also, in days gone by, 
wallowed in the mud 
about spring-holes, 
attaining by like inad- 
mirable procedure the 
same desirable end— 
immunity. 

Fly-time, fortunately, 
is fleeting. Early spring 
and late summer and 
autumn are more or less 
Fic. 115. A mosquito. free from blood-sucking 


274 


INSECTS MOLESTING FARM ANIMALS 275 


flies. The black-flies are the daylight pests of early summer, 
and ere they are gone, the horse-flies and deer-flies are at 
hand to remain through midsummer; also the bot-flies; 
which, though they do not bother us, are aggravating to live 
stock beyond all proportion to their number and size. 

All these transient pests are two-winged flies (members 
of the order Diptera), belonging to a very few families. In 
all of them, the larvae live in situations very different from 
those of the adults. The larvae 
of the blood-sucking flies—black- 
flies and mosquitos and horse-flies 
—are mostly aquatic. The young 
of the bot-flies are parasitic in the 
bodies of animals. In all of them, 
it is the females that pester the 
live stock, the blood-sucking flies 
by biting, and the bot-flies by the 
operations attendant upon laying 
their eggs. 

The mosquitos represent the 
best-known of these families 
(Culicadae). These do most to 
make the night interesting. They 
have a soft little hum that 
probably would be counted among 
the sweet sounds of nature, were 
it not accompanied by so strong 
an appetite for blood. They come 
earliest in the spring and stay latest 
in the fall. They breed in stand- 
ing water—especially in shallow 
and temporary pools. Rain- 
Fic 1:6. Larva of the mosquito. Water barrels, and even tin 


‘Anoplll tipennis. (D ; 
fngailes puncipenms, “raw? cans cast upon a rubbish-heap 


276 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


and filled with water by 
the rains, often furnish 
the chief supplies of mos- 
quitos to a whole neighbor- 
hood. Few are reared in 
open water inhabited by 
fishes; for the fishes eat 
them. The smaller the pool, 
the more likely it is to 
contain mosquito larvae. 
The larvae take air at the 
surface of the water, but 
swim down below to find 
forage or to escape danger. 
"Seounn, ate Gamer "© “Many species are adapted 

to the drying up of their 
native pools, and live on (usually in the egg stage) in 
absence of water, and come on again and fly and sing and 
bite at their proper seasons. Some are short-lived, and run 
through quite a number of generations in a single summer; 
these develop in vast numbers when a rainy season main- 
tains an abundance of little pools. 

Black-flies (Family Simuliidae) develop in running water, 
and are most troublesome about woodland streams. The 
habits of the larvae, which live 
upon stones, have been discussed 
on pages 36 and 37. When there 
are no stones in the streams, larvae 
may be found hanging to sticks 
and to grass blades that trail in 
the edge of the current. The eggs 
are laid on logs and stones at the 
water’sedge. The adults (fig. 117) 
love the sunshine, and their biting 


: Fic. 118. <A horse-fly (from the 
is troublesome only by day. U.S. Bureau of Entomology). 


INSECTS MOLESTING FARM ANIMALS 277 


Horse-flies (Family Tabanidae) develop in moist soil or 
mud, usually in the beds of reedy brooks and ponds. One 
finds the larvae (fig. 77) among the roots of aquatic weeds 
and grasses by lifting these from the water. The annual 
crop of flies matures in midsummer. The males sip nectar 
and plant juices, and are short-lived; the females bite 
fiercely and suck the blood of all the larger hoofed mammals. 
They are troublesome only by day. When fully mature 
they lay their eggs on the vertical stems and leaves of aquatic 
plants, just above the surface of the water. Many handsome 
flies (see fig. 118) are found in this group. 

The bot-flies (Family Oestridae) are parasitic 
as larvae. Three are notable and dangerous: 
one in the alimentary tract of the horse, 
causing various derangements; one in the 
ce frontal sinus of the sheep, causing vertigo to 
Fre 8 eect the animal and often killing it; one under the 

reed enerar skin on the backs of cattle, causing great lumps 

Gomstock.trom that may be readily felt by running one’s hands 

san! Jer i over an animal’s back. These larvae (known 

seis as “‘ox-warbles’’) are the easiest of the bots to 
observe. Over each of them is a hole in theskin, out of which 
the larva will emerge when grown. When approaching the 
time of emergence (best in the spring) it may be brought to 
light prematurely. By placing one’s thumbs at either side 
of the lump and pressing hard, the warble may be made to 
pop out through the hole into the daylight. 

The horse bot-fly is most easily observed of the adult 
insects. It often follows teams along the highways or about 
the fields, and its presence may be suspected from .the 
frenzied action of the horses, flinging their heads upward. 
The bot-fly does not bite; it merely seeks to attach its eggs 
to, the hairs about the front legs and shoulders of the horse, 
within reach of his mouth. But the horse instinctively 


278 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


shuns it, strikes at it, and seeks to drive it away. One may 
often see the eggs attached singly to the hairs—little oblong 
whitish specks, glued fast, to remain during incubation. If 
licked off and swallowed in ten to fifteen days after they are 
laid, they may develop into parasitic larvae in the horse’s 
stomach. They then remain attached to the walls of the 
stomach or intestine. during their larval life. The swiftly- 
flying, loudly-buzzing, terror-inspiring bot-fly darts about 
the horse’s forelegs like a golden bee. 

These are the worst of the fly pests: but there are many 
others; horse-flies and stable-flies and house-flies and_minute 
punkies, some of which bite, and some of which lap up 
exudations from the skin, and some of which merely perch 
and tickle, causing but slight annoyance to the beasts. 

Cattle and horses are specially equipped for dealing with 
such pests. They have an abundant development of small 
subcutaneous muscles for shaking them off from the skin, 
and thus temporarily disposing of them with a minimum 
expenditure of energy; and their tails are equipped with 
heavy brushes of long coarse hair, indestructible fly-brushes, 
which they swing with considerable force and precision. 
One often learns this while engaged in milking the family 
cow. One of the most inane “improvements” that ever 
became fashionable is the docking of the tails of horses. It 
is a mild form of cruelty to animals; for it deprives them of 
their natural means of defense against the flies. In any 
pasture on a summer day, one may see the horses standing 
in the shade in pairs, side by side, head to tail, each one’s 
tail switching the front of the other, each one’s front being 
switched by the tail of the other; it is a mutual-benefit 
association, the efficiency of which lies in the possession of 
natural full-length fly-brushes. 

Small as these pests are, they are capatte of causing very 
great annoyance. Cows give less milk in fly-time, and horses 


INSECTS MOLESTING FARM ANIMALS 279 


grow thin, so much of their energy is spent in fighting flies. 
The loss of blood, also, is very considerable. 

There i8 no finer illustration of the nature of animal 
instincts than is furnished by the behavior of horses and cattle 
toward these pests. By stamping of hoofs and twitching 
of skin and switching of tail, they drive off what they can 
of the bloodsucking flies, and the remainder they patiently 
endure; but they flee before a few bot-flies, leaving good 
pastures to bury themselves in the brush of the thickets. 
Yet the bot-flies do not bite; they only seek to gently deposit 
a few eggs on the tips of the hairs. The larve are danger- 
ous enemies, and nature has taught the beasts to shun 
the flies that lay the eggs. The sharp bites of the blood- 
sucking species are merely annoying, but the mere buzzing 
of the bot-flies, that are themselves quite incapable of causing 
pain, is terrifying. 


Study 40. Insects Molesting Farm Animals 


A dry, calm day in hot weather should be chosen for this 
study, and if animals can be found resting in sheltered places 
near woods and water, pestiferous insects will be numerous 
about them. If the animals are gentle enough, the insects 
may be captured by hand. Teams in the harness may be 
examined for horse-flies and bot-flies, etc. Insect-nets may 
hardly be used without frightening the animals. Captured 
insects may be kept in cyanide bottles or in vials of alcohol 
pending identification. 

The program of work for this study may consist of observa- 
tions on the behavior of horse-flies, horn-flies, bot-flies, 
warble-flies, black-flies and other day-flying pests of animals, 
made in whatever time, place and manner local circumstances 


_ will permit. Mosquitos may be observed at night without 


effort. They attack animals as they do ourselves, being 
satisfied with any situation where they can suck blood. The 


280 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


life history of mosquitos may be demonstrated by leavinga 
vessel of rain-water exposed on a shaded window-sill, outside, 
where the adult mosquitos may fly to it, for a fortnight 
before it is needed. Eggs will be laid on the surface and all- 
stages of development will quickly follow. Living larvee of 
black-flies (‘‘turkey-gnats,”’ “‘sand-flies,”’ etc.), horse-flies and 
punkies and alcoholic specimens of bot-fly and horn-fly larvee 
may be shown in demonstration. 


The record of this study may consist of a fully annotated 
list of the pestiferous insects observed. The notes should 
cover such points as the following: 

Time and place of observation and relevant ,weather 
conditions. 

Kind of animal molested, and sort of molestation (buzz- 
ing, tickling, biting, egg-laying, etc.). 

Means employed by the animals for evading or in -ombat- 
ing the pests (standing in water, in wind, in brush, switch- 
ing or biting them, coating their hair with mud, etc.). 

Breeding, places of pests. 


XLI. OUT IN THE RAIN 


“Rain! Rain! 
Oh, sweet Spring rain! 
The world has been calling for thee in vain 
Till now, and at last thou art with us again. 
Oh, how shall we welcome the gentle showers, 
The baby-drink of the first-born flowers, 
That falls out of heaven as falleth the dew, 
And touches the world to beauty anew? 
Oh, rain! rain! dost thou feel and see 
How the hungering world has been watting for thee? 


How streamlets whisper and leaves are shaken, 
And winter-sleeping things awaken, 
And look around, and rub their eyes, 
And laugh into life at the glad surprise; 
How the tongues are loosened that late were dumb, 
For ‘the time of the singing of birds has come’; 
How every tender flower holds up, 
In trembling balance, its tiny cup, 
To catch the food that in sultry weather 
Must hold its little life together? 
Oh, blessings on thee, thou sweet Spring rain, 
That callest dead things to life again!” 

—James Brown Selkirk (Rain). 


From the point of view of thirsty things, the best weather 
is the day of rain. The earth grows brown and sere, waiting 
for it. Growth ceases. The cattle languish. The farmer 
scans the sky anxiously, looking for clouds that promise 
refreshment; for water is life’s prime necessity. 

The rain comes with phenomena of great impressiveness. 
Were such things to be seen at only one place in the world, 
men would travel the world over to see them. Bold thunder- 
clouds rise, with crests as white as snow, resting on banks 
as black as ink. The lightning flashes and the thunder 
rolls. The landscape darkens and the rain descends. Zig- 
zag flashes cleave the blackness only to intensify it. There 
is a scent of ozone from overhead, and the scent of the ground 
comes up from below. It rains. And then the clouds lift a 


281 


282 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


little, and a flood of light flows in on the freshened atmosphere. 
The rain ceases and the verdure of the earth appears, slaked 
and washed clean. 

We do not, naturally, seek to keep out of the rain. As 
children, we sought to be out init. The warm summer rain 
was as refreshing as sunshine. It is due to our clothes 
that we avoid getting wet. Our modern attire is set 
up with starch and glue, and the rain wilts it. For the sake 
of such artificial toggery, we sacrifice some pleasures that are 
part of our natural birthright. 

Other creatures enjoy the rain. At its approach, many 
of them enter upon unusual activities. Insects swarm. 
The rabbits by the roadside become more familiar. They 
approach nearer to our doors, and sit longer amid the clover 
when we come near them. Snakes run more in the open; 
indeed, a snake in the open roadway is a venerable ‘‘sign’’ 
of rain. Chickens oil their feathers, alternately pressing the 
oil-gland and preening with their beaks; and if they get well 
waterproofed before the storm breaks, and if the downpour 
be not too heavy, they will then stay out in it, and enjoy it. 
Many birds sing more persistently—notably the cuckoo, 
which doubtless, from this habit got the name “‘rain-crow.”’ 
Frogs croak vociferously, as if in pleasant anticipation. 
Flowers bend their heads. 

When it rains, the moisture-loving things come forth. 
Slime-molds creep out over the logs. Mushrooms spring 
up. Slugs and millepedes and pill-bugs wander forth into 
the open, and earthworms, as well, at night. And every- 
where running water is performing its great functions of 
burden-bearing, cutting, filling, leveling, and slowly changing 
the topography of the land, and distributing all manner of 
seeds over its surface. There is plenty to see and plenty to 
hear when it rains. 


OUT IN THE RAIN 283 


Study 41. Out in the Rain 


This is a study for the day when raincoats and rubbers 
and umbrellas have to be taken afield, and when the coming 
on of a heavy shower puts an end to other work. Then, 
instead of fleeing indoors, it will be well to stay out and see 
some of the interesting things that go on in the rain. 

The program of work for the day of rain will vary with 
time and circumstances. Therefore, we shall have to be 
content with a very few general suggestions. 

First, before the storm breaks, during the lull when the 
“thunderheads” are mounting the sky, it will be a good time 
to observe the increased activity of certain animals, the 
preparatory movements of certain flowers, the interesting 
behavior of the barnyard fowls, and, above all, to listen to 
the anticipatory chorus of frogs and tree-toads, and birds 
and crickets and other animals that can not keep still. 

Then, when the rains comes, the water-shedding power of 
different kinds of foliage may readily be tested, if members 
of the class will step under trees of different kinds and wait, 
with raised umbrellas, and note how long it takes for the rain- 
drops filtering through the foliage to come through in suf- 
ficient numbers to make a continuous patter, with no individual 
drops distinguishable. One may test the way in which any 
tree standing in the open disposes of the water that falls 
upon it, by walking under it over all the area it covers and 
listening to the sounds of the drops falling about his head, on 
the stretched umbrella. 

When things are soaked with rain and the water is gather- 
ing in rills, there are many things that may then be observed 
with unusual advantage. The clouding of the streams. 
with inflowing silt will be very obvious. The burden the 
streams are carrying may be easily demonstrated. It may 
be tested by dipping a glass of running water and letting the 
water settle to see the sediment; by placing one’s fingers 


284 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


across the current so as to feel the pelting of the pebbles 
that are carried by the rill; or, by listening to the pounding 
of the rocks in their descent of the larger gullies. Part of 
what the stream carries is floating stuff—stems and leaves, 
that will fall and decay, and seeds that will spring up in new 
situations. The washing of different kinds and conditions 
of soil may be seen. Indeed, it is only out in the rain that 
erosion by the rills, and the building of miniature deltas 
and flood-plains, may be seen at their height. 

When the rain has ceased, the rate of drying of the surface 
of different kinds and conditions of soil may be observed. 
One should compare newly plowed and fallow land, bare 
fields, meadows and woods. Certain moisture-loving animals 
will be seen abroad abundantly when the shower is ended— 
snails, slugs, pill-bugs, worms, frogs, etc. Indeed, the wood 
thrush is likely to be heard singing again almost as soon as 
the downpour is ended; for, as Alexander Wilson observed 
of it, ‘“The darker the day, the sweeter is its song.” 

The record of this study may properly consist of notes on 
things heard and seen, that are connected in any way with 
the coming of the rain. 


XLII. THE VINES OF THE FARM 


“They shall sit every man under his vine and under his figtree, and none 
shall make them afraid.’’-—Micah, 4:4. 


The cultivated crops of the world have in the past grown 
mainly in fields, gardens and vineyards. Many crops have 
been raised in the fields, and still more in the gardens, but the 
vineyards have been given over mainly to one crop—the fruit 
of the vine. There is but one vine that fills any very large 
place economically: the word vine means grapevine in 
much of our ancient literature. 

Before the dawn of history, the ancient cultivator found 
the grape suited to his sunny hills. It was long-lived and 
strong-rooted, and served to bind the soil of the terraced 
slopes. It was resistant to drought and adaptable to situa- 
tion. It was responsive to care and amenable to training. 
It was beautiful in leafage and fragrant in flower and luscious 
in fruit, and in every way desirable about his home. So he 
made a vineyard for it, equipped with a watchtower and a 
wine-press, and he fenced it in. He planted and fertilized it 
and pruned it and trained it over arbors, and sat beneath its 
shadow. He ate its fruit and drank its vintage—and, some- 
times, used its wine to make him drunken, even before the 
dawn of history. It is a large and varied role that the 
products of the vine have played in human affairs. 

Other vines besides the grape are cultivated in fields and 
gardens, but they aremostly short-lived herbaceous things like 
hops, pole-beans, and gourds. One wild vine with excellent 
edible tuberous roots, the apios, we have had before us in 
Study 7 (fig. 37). Aside from the grape, the best known of our 
vines are those that are raised for the singular beauty of their 
flowers and foliage. Splendid flowers, indeed, are those of 


285 


286 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


the climbing roses and honeysuckles, 
of the scarlet trumpet-vine, of the 
virgin’s-bower, of the morning-glory 
and the sweet pea. Most of these 
are fragrant as well as beautiful. 
Fragrant also are the less conspicu- 
ous flowers of the wild grape, the 
climbing hemp (Mzkania scandens) 
of the marshes, and the apios. 
Vines are plants that cannot stand 
alone. They must have some sup- 
port to hang or lean upon. They 
vary in size fromthe wild grape that 
revels in the tops of the great trees 
of the forest, to the little cranberry 
that trails over the surface of the 
bog. They vary in strength from 
the wiry rattans to the succulent cucurbits. Some of them 
are possessed of special climbing apparatus; more of them 
sustain themselves by twining about their supports; some 
of the lesser herbaceous sorts maintain their position merely 
by leaning—resting their elbows, so to speak—upon their 
neighbors. All of them are long of reach and rapid of 


Fic. 120. A spray of wild grape. 


Fic. 121. Virginia creeper or ‘‘ woodbine”’. 


THE VINES OF THE FARM 287 


growth, and all show a marked capacity for keeping their 
heads out to the light. 

Our wild vines vary in habit according to the form and 
habits of the plants that furnish them support. As there are 
trees and tall shrubs and low shrubs in every woodland, so 

- there are high-climbing and intermediate and low-growing 
vines. The vines that are able to ascend to the crowns of the 
forest are all woody climbers, having perennial stems. They 
have two sorts of climbing apparatus. Wild grape and 
Virginia creeper climb by means of tendrils; poison ivy and 
trumpet-vine, by means of root-like holdfasts which pene- 
trate the bark of supporting trees. These are the vines that 
furnish the principal draperies of our forests; that garland 
with inimitable grace the old bare trunks; that spread 
incomparably beautiful leaf mosaics over walls and fences and 
over the crowns of small trees; and that fling out banners of 
brilliant hues in autumn. They often smother the lesser 
spreading trees under their dense leafage, and in killing them, 
destroy their own support. 

Of these tall vines, the wild grape has the longest reach. - 
Its annual shoots often attain a length of twenty feet. These 
are equipped with long and strong tendrils that coil tightly 
about any suitable small support. Once firmly attached, 
they seem able to withstand the driving of a hurricane. 
Failing to find support, the shoots hang pendant, like 
streamers, in the air. The Virginia creeper likewise wraps 
its tendrils about twigs, but it also inserts their tips into 
crevices, and then expands them into attachment discs. 
By means of these, it is able to ascend bare trunks, as do the 
vines with holdfasts, or to cling to the vertical face of a stone 
wall, holding on with delicate but unyielding grasp. 

The vines that reach the Jevel of the tops of the largest 
shrubs are mainly twiners. They ascend the shrubs by 
twining their slender stems about them. The bittersweet 


288 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


(Celastrus scandens) is perhaps the tallest of these, and has 
the best development of woody stems. It grows on dry 
wooded hills. The moonseed (Mentspermum canadense) 
is a half-woody twiner that overruns the bushes in moist 
lowland thickets. It is one of the best of vines for shady 


Fic. 122. Bittersweet, with fruit unopened. 


places, and it has beautiful foliage. The large scalloped 
leaves overlap one another from the top to the ground like the 
slates on a roof. There are herbaceous twiners on the taller 
bushes also, like the bindweeds and the hops. And the 
balsam-apple (Echinocystis lobata) climbs by neat tendrils of 
singular efficiency. And virgin’s-bower (Clematis virginiana) 
and other species of Clematis, climb by twisting the stalks 
of leaf and leaflet about stems for support. 


THE VINES OF THE FARM 289 


Fic. 123. An herbaceous climber—climbing buckwheat. 


Of low-growing vines there is endless variety. They 
twine, they climb, they sprawl. <A few of the finer flowering 
sorts, such as climbing roses and honeysuckles and apios, have 
already been mentioned. Many of the lesser ones have 
charming foliage. No gems glisten more brightly than do the 
pendent fruits of the nightshade-bittersweet (fig. 124). 
Nothing in the world is more beautiful than the delicate 
tracery of these low-climbing things, commingling with and 
garlanding the bushes. 

Precious to the gardener are the vines, most slender and 
fragile of nature’s “‘lace-workers of the woods and brake’’. 
With them he may quickly cover the unsightly shed or fence 
with roods of blossoming verdure. He may overspread the 
bare walls left by the 
builder with a mantle 
of varied green and 
brown wrought in ex- 
quisite design. He 
may throw a filmy 
mantle of life over 
the top of mutilated 
shrubbery. Nature 
sets him splendid 
models in every 
thicket and by every 
brookside. 


Fic. 124. The climbing nightshade-bittersweet. 


290 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Study 42. The Larger Wild Vines of the Farm 


The program of work in this study will consist of a trip 
about the borders of a wood, along a fence-row, and througha 
bottom-land thicket, examining, one by one, the different wild 
vines of various sorts, and writing their characters in a table 
prepared with the following column headings: 

Name (of plant). 

Duration of stem (annual, biennial, perennial). 

Grows where (in sun or shade, wet or dry places, etc.). 

On what (name support). 

By what means (climbing or twining, when climbing by 
tendrils or holdfasts, diagram the same). 

Stem (tell it in English). 

Character of ; Leaves (diagram). 

{ Flower-cluster or fruit (diagram). 

Foliage (character of). 

Season’s growth, (maximum length of). 

Best suited to what situation and use. 

The record of this study will consist of: 

1. The complete table, outlined above. 

2. A little special report concerning some one very com- 
mon vine, stating in what variety of situations it is found 
growing, and with what different kinds of supports. 


XLITI. THE SWALE 


“Bubble, bubble, flows the stream, 
Here a glow and there a gleam; 
Coolness all about me creeping, 
Fragrance all my senses steeping,— 
Spice wood, sweet-gum, sassafras, 
Calamus and water-grass, 
Giving up their pungent smells. 
Drawn from Nature's secret wells.” 
—Maurice Thompson. 


Waste land is land we have not learned how to use. 
Much of it is too dry, and lacking water—the prime requi- 
site for plant growth—it produces little, even of wild crops. 
Much of it is too wet and, therefore, unsuited to our agri- 
cultural methods, though nature produces on it her most 
abundant crops. Much of it is too rocky, and unsuited to 
the use of our implements of tillage. Deserts and rocks 
and swamps overspread vast areas of the earth’s surface. 
But miniature waste places of like character appear in sand- 
ridge and stony slope and swale on many an inland farm. 

Let us study the swale a bit—that most interesting and 
most productive of waste areas. We will find it among the 
tilled fields, where their gentle slopes run together, forming 
a depression that is poorly drained. We will find it over- 
spreading the level surface of some miniature valley between 
upland hills, or by the stream-side or at the head of a bay 
or pond. Insuch places the crops that we know how to raise 
on farms will not thrive. Thereis toomuch water. The soil 
is soft under foot. Though black with humus, and enriched 
with the washings from surrounding slopes, it is sour, and 
unavailable to our field crops. 

It has its own crops, and they are never-failing. Always 
it is a flowery meadow, densely crowded with plants of many 
kinds in interesting association. It is a place of rushes and 


291 


292 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


sedges, rather than of grasses. It is a place of abundant 
flowers the whole season through, from the cowslips and 
cresses of spring to the asters and gentians of autumn. 
It is a place where crawfish sink their wells, unmolested by 
the plow, piling little circular mounds of excavated earth 
about the entrance; a place where rabbits hide, and where 
song-birds build their nests; a place where the meadow 
mice and shrews spread a network of runways over the 
ground: in short, a place where rich soil and abundant light 
and moisture support a dense population, among which the 
struggle for existence is keen. 

If a fence-row extend down from the field into the swale, 
let us follow that, and see how the wild plants change with 
increasing soil moisture. The grasses of the fence-row begin 
to be crowded out by sedges as the water-level comes nearer 
the surface of the soil. Dry-ground asters and goldenrods 
and lobelias disappear, and wet ground species of the same 
groups appear instead. Bracken fern is replaced by marsh- 
fern and sensitive fern; hazel by willow. Under foot, the 
soil is growing softer, blacker and more spongy. 

If the swale has been cleared of woody plants, still alders 
and willows are prone to linger about the wetter places, and 
black-berried elder, osier-dogwood and meadowsweet about 
the edges. Cat-tails and bulrushes (fig. 16, p. 36) will fringe 
any open wet spot, and tussock-sedges and clumps of juncus 
will rise on mounds of gathered humus, like stumbling-blocks 
before our feet, where diffused springs abound. 

No two swales are alike in the character of their plant 
population. But all agree in their meadowlike appearance, 
in being made up of patches of rather uniform character, 
where uniform conditions prevail, and in having each of these 
areas dominated by one or two species of plants, with a 
number of lesser plants as ‘‘fillers’”’ in its midst, and a greater 
variety of miscellaneous plants growing about its edges. 


THE SWALE . 293 


The dominant plants that cover consider- 
able areas of the swale, almost to the 
exclusion of other plants are mainly 
grass-like plants, capable of close growth 
above ground and nearly complete occu- 
pation of the soil. They are such marsh 
grasses as the panicularias (from which 
marsh hay is made) and reed, on wetter 
Fic. 125. A heavy clus- soil; such bulrushes as Scirpus fluviatilis ; 
ter of manna-grass 5 
(Panicularia taxa) after such other plants, as cat-tails and bur- 
reeds (fig. 16); and, over smaller areas, 
sweet flag (Acorus calamus) and blue flag (Iris versicolor). 
Where these grow most compactly, there are a few lesser 
plants intermixed, filling the niches, reaching into light 
above and spreading roots in the superficial layers of the soil. 
With permanent conditions, the mixture of plants will 
remain much the same year after year. They are nearly all 
‘ perennials, holding their place by continuous occupancy of 
it. Each is striving to extend its domain, but there is little 
opportunity. In the permanent association of certain species 
together there are some fine mutual adjustments. The 
taller broad-leaved perennials, like swamp-milkweed and 
joe-pye-weed and boneset, root rather deeply, and stand 
stiffly erect. The top layers 
of the soil are left by them 
to such lesser things as marsh 
skullcap, bedstraws, and 
tear-thumbs, whose  strag- 
gling sprays reach out and 
find the light. The annual 
herbs of the swale are few; 
they: are such as jewel-weed 
and Spanish needles, that 
depend for their opportunity ites 128: Flower and fruit of the jewel- 


294 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


to find a place on some disturbance of existing condi- 
tions. A muskrat or a mole upheaves a mound of earth, 
and the seeds of these annual weeds, falling into this 
unoccupied soil, flourish there for a season ere the root- 
stocks of more permanent perennials again invade it. The 
annuals of the swale are quick-growing things, that depend 
for their success in the world upon their ability to shift 
from place to place, to find new openings, and to get in 
and mature a crop of seeds before the perennials crowd 
them out again. 

There are many beautiful and interesting flowers in the 
swale: yellow flowers, such as Saint John’s wort, buttercups, 
goldenrods and loosestrife; ‘blue flowers, such as monkey- 
flowers, lobelias and gentians; white flowers, such as meadow- 
rue, turtleheads, avens and cresses; pink flowers, such as 
cockle-mint, willow-herb, fleabane and marshmallows; red 
swamp-lilies and flaming scarlet cardinal-flowers; and others 
in great variety and in continual succession. Formslike those 
that grow on shoals (mentioned on page 35) willappearif there 
be permanent open water. Indeed, a careful study of even 
a small swale might discover the presence of a hundred or 
more plant species. Ten or a dozen of these are likely to be 
found to comprise the greater bulk of the plant population. 
The dominant species are mainly those having comparatively 
simple and inconspicuous flowers, whose pollen is distributed 
by winds. The dominant species extend their domain chiefly 
by strong vegetative offshoots, occupy the. soil with strong 
roots, and never let go. 


THE SWALE 295 


Study 43. Observations on the Plant Life of a Swale 


Some small open area of wet ground, well grown up in wild 
meadow, undrained, and not pastured, should be selected 
for this study. An outline map should be provided, unless 
the form be simple. Digging tools will be needed, and also 
facilities for washing roots. 


The program of work may consist of: 

1. A general survey of the swale as to: 

(a) The mixing of dry-ground and wet-ground forms at 

its margin. 

(b) The areas into which it is naturally marked out by 

the uniformity of the plant growth covering them 
(“plant associations’). 

(c) The relation between topography, soils and water and 

these plant associations. 

2. An examination of the plants in several associations 
as to the relations they bear to one another both above and 
below ground. Some should be cut so that the leafage may 
be viewed from the side as well as from above; and some 
should be dug up, so that the depth and distribution of the 
roots may be noted. 


The record of this study may consist of: 

1. Amap of the swale, with topographic features and the 
principal plant associations (including bordering shrubbery) 
marked out upon it. Explanations to the map should name 
at least the dominant species present in each association. 

2. Diagrams, illustrating vertical sections of the swale 
herbage, showing the relations of the principal components 
of several associations, both above and below ground. These 
should show how the branches of each species are placed to 
reach the light, and how the roots are distributed in the soil. 


[NotE: The above program is laid out in the belief that the study 
of the swale will be most instructive if we seek to learn how the various 
members of nature’s dense wet-ground population get on together; 
but if an acquaintance with the entire plant population be desired, the 
record may take the form of an annotated and illustrated list of species.] 


XLIV. THE BRAMBLES OF THE FARM 


“Erratic wanderings through deadening-lands 
Where sly old brambles plucking me by stealth 
Put berries in my hands.” 


—Riley (A Country Pathway). 

Brambles are intimate associates of the farmer. Wherever 
man has tilled a field, thorny things of some sort have settled 
peaceably along its borders. Ever ready to invade thg 
“garden of the slothful,” they have had a share in promotine 
regular tillage. Just beyond the domain of the plow, they 
stop and hold the fort. They are wild intractable things, no 
respecters of clothes, nor of feelings, nor of any of the ways of 
civilization. Under their cover other wild things dwell. 

Before there were farms, the brambles doubtless occupied 
the openings in the woods where giant trees had recently 
fallen, and other spots left temporarily unoccupied; for, after 
the annual weeds, they are among the first plants to appear 
in such places. Their seeds are planted by birds, which eat 
their berries. Hence the dead tree, the fence, the stone pile 
or the stump pile in the field, or any other thing in the open 
ground that offers an alighting place for birds, is sure to have 
a lot of brambles about it. 

They spring first from seeds, but later they spread lustily 
from offshoots of various kinds, and form thickets. The 
more typical brambles (thorny members of the genus Rubus) 
have short-lived stems, which early crowd out the weeds, and 
after a few years are themselves outstripped and overtopped 
and shaded and killed by taller-growing shrubs and trees. In 
the woods, therefore, their occupancy of any given place 
where trees may grow is but temporary: but in the fence-row 
where the farmer keeps the trees cut down, they may hold on 
indefinitely. If mowed or burned, they spring up again from 


uninjured roots. 
296 


THE BRAMBLES OF THE FARM 297 


Our most typical bramble is the wild blackberry. 
Its stout, thorny biennial canes shoot up to full height 
one year, and bloom and fruit and die the next. Year 
by year, the dead canes, commingled with the living, accum- 
mulate in the bramble patch, making it more and more 
impenetrable. They gather to themselves as they settle to 
the earth, an abundance of falling leaves, and fill up the center 
of the thicket 
with a rich 
mulch that 
keeps the 
ground moist, 
and favors the 
growth of the 
tallest canes 
and the finest 
berries. There 
is no chance for 
grass to grow in 
the midst of 
such a thicket, 


but only about 
Fic. 127. Wild blackberry: A young shoot of the season, a ;: 
fruiting shoot, and a dead cane. “ its borders. 


The wild red 
raspberry makes thickets that are less thorny and less 
dense, but that are hard to penetrate because the long 
overarching canes, fastened to the earth at both ends, 
trip one up badly. The red canes, covered with whitish 
bloom and bearing handsome and gracefully poised 
leaves, are very beautiful. This bramble loves the shelter 
of a brush pile or fallentree. Its extremely long reach and its 
habit of striking root wherever a tip meets the ground, enable 
it to shift its location, moving one stride each season. It 
often springs from seed on the top of some rotting log or 
stump. 


298 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


The dewberry forms low, trailing, nearly thornless 
thickets at the level of one’s shoetops in dry fields. There 
are other blackberries and raspberries also, in both wetter and 
drier situations, and many other thorny things, such as wild 
rose, wild gooseberry (fig. 3 on p. 18) and greenbrier, in the 
thorny thickets 
of the farm. 
But such as 
those above 
described are 
the ones that 


4 ASV 
by Eas have most 
<r ay IN affected human 
ZB f A a interests. Fit 
j { only to be burn- 
QW ed—except 
Sy) when (as not 
: LoS ete 
sy (Gap. F was without care or 
<i eS ~~ Y thought from 
hee ((" : us, they happen 


to be found 
bearing a load 
of luscious fruit. 
Fic. 128. Wild red raspberry. i anes gates 
ing in the wild 
we may, indeed, with profit observe, if we would manage 
wisely their cultivated relatives; for in the wild we may 
easily see what sort of soil and amount of shading and kind 
of mulch produce the finest crop of fruit. Their love for 
partially shaded situations renders raspberries especially 
adapted to be used as ‘“‘fillers” in young orchards. 
Any good blackberry patch, clustering about an old stone 
heap or rail pile in a pasture, will give an excellent opportunity 


THE BRAMBLES OF THE FARM 299: 


for observing the mutual helpfulness 
of many of the wild things in nature. 
At the edges of the clump, the adven- 
turous new bramble sprouts, ventur- 
ing out too far, are cropped with the 
grass by the cattle: but, wherever 
a stem has lived to harden its thorns, 
close by it new sprouts may raise 
their heads in safety. So may other 
herbage also, some common asso- 
ciates of the brambles, being cudweed 
and goldenrod and bracken fern and 
elder. The seeds of the last named 
ate doubtless planted also by the 
birds. The grass grows tall in a peri- 
pheral zone among the canes, and 
under its matted 
tufts numerous 

Fic. 129. Wild rose. runways o f 
meadow mice are to be found. And it 
is a poor brier patch, even tho it be a 
small one, that does not shelter the door 
of a deep burrow of some family of 
woodchucks, skunks or rabbits. Lovers 
of Uncle Remus will remember that Brer 
Rabbit proclaimed the brier-patch to 
be the place of his nativity.* Fic. 130. Cudweed. 


*“Co’se Brer Fox wanter hurt Brer Rabbit bad ez he kin, so he cotch 
‘im by de behime legs, en slung im right in de middle er de brier-patch. 
Dar wuz a considerbul flutter whar Brer Rabbit struck de bushes, en 
Brer Fox sorter hang ’roun’ fer ter see w’at wuz gwineter happen. 
Bimeby he hear some body call ‘im, en way up de hill he see Brer Rabbit 
settin’ cross-legged on a chinkapin log koamin’ de pitch outen his har 
wid a chip. . . . Brer Rabbit . . . holler out: ‘Bred en 
bawn in a brier-patch, Brer Fox—bred en bawn in a brier-patch!’”’— 
Harris (Uncle Remus, p. 18.) 


300 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Brambles follow in the wake of the ax. In deadenings of 
standing timber they flourish apace—a transient population, 
soon submerged if trees be allowed to grow again, and easily 
eradicated with the plow. Yet feeble and transient as they 
are, they are ever with us in those nooks and angles of the 
farm that are neither plowed nor tree-covered, and all manner 
of wild things love them. 


Study 44. The Brambles of the Farm 


The object of this study is to learn something of the 
interesting habits of this little-esteemed class of wild plants, 
something of the conditions of their existence, of their rela- 
tions to other plants and animals, and of their relations to 
ordinary farming operations. 


The program of work will consist of: 

1. Digging up in the patches of specimens of all kinds of 
brambles, examining them, root and branch, and making 
brief notes and sketches for the list mentioned below. 

2. Examining in some pasture the make-up of a typical 
blackberry patch that is spreading from an old fence or brush 
pile or stone heap. 

3. Comparing the growth of specimens of some one com- 
mon kind of bramble, as the blackberry, in different situa- 
tions, in relation to conditions in each place. 


The record of this study will consist of: 

tr. An illustrated list of all the brambles studied, with 
diagrams showing, for each species, manner of growth, mode 
of increase, succession of stems (canes), flowering or fruiting, 
etc. 

2. A diagram of a vertical section of a brier patch, show- 
ing the briers in their relative height and abundance from 
center to margin, showing dead mulch and green ground- 
cover herbage, showing the common plants intermixed, 


THE BRAMBLES OF THE FARM 301 


including at least one small tree, and showing the location of 
nests, runways, or burrows of such resident animals as are 
noted. Both the preceding diagrams call for clear and 
detailed labels and explanations. 


3. <A brief statement of the best and worst natural condi- 


tions found for good growth and fruit production in the 
bramble selected for special study. 


XLV. THE POPULATION OF AN OLD APPLE TREE 


“My host was a bountiful apple tree; 
He gave me shelter and nourished me 
With the best of fare, all fresh and free. 


And light-winged guests came not a few, 
To his leafy inn, and sipped the dew, 
And sang their best songs ere they flew. 


IT slept at night on a downy bed 
Of moss, and my host benignly spread 
His own cool shadow over my head.” 
—Thomas Westwood (Mine Host). 


There are few trees about the farm home so well beloved 
in childhood as the old apple trees. The grass grows like a 
carpet under their spreading crowns. Their smooth hori- 
zontal boughs seem to have been made to climb in. Their 
fruit was certainly made to eat. Food and shade and 
pleasant pastime—all these for us, and not for us alone, but 
for many other creatures as well. 

The robin loves to build her plastered nest in the stout 
crotch of the apple bough where well concealed by the leaves 
on a few thin ‘‘water-sprouts.’’ The dove selects a horizontal 
spray, and lays her thin platform of twigs across the level 
branches. Catbird and thrush and many other song-birds 
search the thickest of the unpruned crowns for home-sites. 
The apple tree covers them with its leaves and embowers 
them with its flowers in the time of nest building, and sup- 
ports, all summer long, a multitude of insects that serve 
them well for food. In an old “‘stag-headed” tree, the 
dead and hollow snag may be perforated and occupied 
by woodpeckers, or later by wrens and sparrows. But 
whether woodpeckers find a nesting place in the apple 
tree or not, they find food in it, in the insects that 
burrow in its bark and wood. One may hear their tapping 

302 


THE POPULATION OF AN OLD APPLE TREE. 303, 


in the orchard at almost any time; and by carefully watch- 
ing, may see them chiseling holes with their stout beaks, 
and extracting borers from the wood, or caterpillars hidden 
under the heavy flakes of bark. Their perforations may be 
found on any old tree, especially in bark and dead bough. 
Often there are sap-pits to be seen, also, in the fresh green 
bark of the larger boughs. These are placed in regular trans- 
verse rows, close together. They are made by sapsuckers, 
at the time of sap-flow in the early spring (see Chapter 22, 
page 169). These are made to “bleed’’ the tree and not to 
rid it of pests. They are not very harmful, however, for they 
are made in such a way that they quickly heal in the grow- 
ing season. The pits are small, and living bark from which 
new growth may spread is left between the pits. Nature 
has taught the sapsuckers how to take the sap and soft fiber 
of the inner bark from the trees without seriously injuring 
them. The sapsuckers pay for this by eating injurious 
insects that hide beneath the old and flaky bark of the trunks. 

A few birds are residents in the trees, but many others 
come and go. Some, like crows and jays, slip in unawares, 
merely to peck holes in the reddest of the apples on the 
upper boughs. Others, like cuckoos, come to feed on cater- 
pillars. There are many mammals that like apples as well 
as we do; and some small wild ones make nocturnal visits to 
the orchard. There are many insects that visit it, in blos- 
soming time, for nectar or for pollen, as we have seen in 
Study 30. But the most important part of the population 
of the apple tree is the resident population, composed of 
insects that are wholly dependent on the apple tree for their 
livelihood. 

These are both beneficial and injuriousinsects; and the latter 
will usually appear to be in excess. There is no part of the 
tree exempt from the attacks of some of them. On the 
roots, there are wooly aphids clustering and causing rounded 


304, NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


galls to grow where they make punctures with their beaks. 
On the new bark and on the leafy shoots, there are other 
aphids feeding together in great colonies, gregariously. 
These, though minute and inconspicuous in themselves, are 
readily located on new shoots because of the crinkling they 
cause the leaves to undergo. On an old neglected apple 
tree, there are apt to be many minute scale-insects scattered 
about, adherent to thé bark of the green twigs. These are 
very minute and inconspicuous creatures, that appear life- 
less, indeed, but they are, by reason of the persistence of their 
attack and their very rapid rate of increase, 
among the worst enemies of the trees. 

Of caterpillars, there is a long succession 
and a great variety to be found on the apple 
tree. In spring, the tent-caterpillar spins its 
huge webs conspicuously in the crotches 
of the apple boughs. Though the tent-cater- 
Fic. 131. Oyster. Pillars will all be gone before midsummer 

Sete Rae and a new growth will be replacing the leaves 

SHEE eaten by them, their empty webs will still 
be seen upon neglected trees. In their stead, two other 
moth larvae, popularly known as the yellow-necked and the 
red-humped caterpillars, may be found devastating the 
foliage. Other lesser caterpillars that injure the leaves are 
the bud-moth caterpillar, that works in opening buds, the 
pistil-case-bearer that gnaws out little patches from 
the surfaces of the leaf, and the apple-leaf-miner, that 
lives within the leaf substance, making a trumpet-shaped 
blotch of a mine between upper. and lower epidermis. The 
last two will be found by looking for spotted leaves that 
have their margins uninjured. 

The fruit of the apple is the place of residence for three 
insects of the sort shown in figure 6 on page 22. The larva 
of the codling-moth is a caterpillar that works in the core of 
the apple. The larva of the apple-curculio is a weevil that 


THE POPULATION OF AN OLD APPLE TREE 305 


works in the flesh of the apple, its location being marked 
by aconspicuoussurface scar. The apple-maggot works also 
in the flesh, burrowing through it in all directions, and leav- 
ing discolored streaks from which rotting proceeds. Then 
there are beetles, whose larvae are borers, the most injurious 
of which work beneath the bark of young trees at the surface 
of the ground, more or less completely girdling the trees. 
Two or three of these burrows may kill a large tree. These 
illustrate the appalling harm that may come from a small 
wound in a critical place; these cut off the tree-crown from 
its base of supplies. 


Fic. 132. A plant bug, its nymph, and a leaf-hopper. 


These are the worst of the apple pests. Others there are 
in plenty, that feed here and there, now and then. Plant 
bugs and leaf-hoppers are always present in some numbers 
among the foliage, feeding. And in an old tree, having much 
dead wood present, there are sure to be found wood-destroy- 
ing beetles of most of the sorts mentioned in Study 24. 
And each and every one of these species has its enemies 
and its train of parasites. 

The apple tree is useful to us, but it is necessary to many 
lesser creatures, for it furnishes all their living. It is the 
center of a considerable population, the inter-relations of 
which are of infinite complexity. There is no living thing 
that either lives or dies unto itself alone. 


306 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Study 45. The Population of an Old Apple Tree 


An orchard of old neglected apple trees should be selected 
for this study. A few tools will be needed for common use: 
saws for bringing down branches; hammers for stripping 
bark; nets for “sweeping” the foliage to capture flying in- 
sects; and cyanide bottles to hold specimens pending their 
identification. 


The program of work will consist of: 


1. A preliminary survey of the trees (to be made. while 
walking among them, by the members of the class observing 
things together) to discover the location of birds’ nests; the 
work of woodpeckers, of mice, etc.; the « | nests of tent- 
caterpillars; fresh defoliation by caterpiliurs; colonies of 
aphids and scale-insects; the presence of wormy fruit, etc. 

2. A detailed examination (to be made by members of 
the class individually) of the life to be fouid on or in the 
leaves, bark, twigs and fruit of a single tree. Old bark should 
be stripped off and its crevices examined; new bark should 
be searched carefully. Every discoloration or deformation 
of the leaves should be looked into, and fruits should be 
cut open and searched carefully. Those examining different 
trees may, with profit, compare results in the end. 


The record of this study may consist of: 


t. A large diagram of a singleapple tree with the location 
of the members of its population, that affect the green and 
living tree, indicated (by symbols and explanatory footnotes) 
upon it. 

2. An annotated list of the entire population in three parts: 

(a) Transient visitors. 
(b) Resident enemies. 
(c) Parasites and predaceous insects. 

The notes should cover the relations that each species 
bears to the apple tree. 


XLVI. THE LITTLE BROOK GONE DRY 


“In heat the quivering landscape lies; 
The cattle pant beneath the tree; 
Through parching air and purple skies 
The earth looks up in vain for thee; 
For thee, for thee, it looks in vain, 
O gentle, gentle summer rain.” 
—William C. Bennett (Invocation to Rain). 


When summer comes, many brooks cease their singing. 
When the leafage of the season is developed, the surplus 
water of the soil ceases to feed the brooks; for it is gathered 
by the plant roots and distilled silently through the pores 
of innumerable leaves into the thirsty atmosphere. The 
silvery streams become broken into segregated pools, which 
dwindle and dwindle as the drouth increases. Where the 
floods of springtime made their deepest plunges, there lie 
basins of bare mud. Truly the brook’s inhabitants are 
subject to sore vicissitudes; to the ice of winter and the 
floods of spring is now added the severest test of all—the 
withdrawal of the water. 

Let us take our way up the bed of some small stream that 
has lingered well through a long dry season, but has finally 
gone dry. How great are the changes in the conditions of 
life! Here, where shining water played among the pebbles, 
toying with their dainty drapery of green and brown algae, 
there is nothing left on stones and brook-bed but a gray 
powder that crumbles to dust at atouch. There, where was 
a pool, where tadpoles basked and water-skaters raced over 
the surface, now lies a sheet of baked mud, caked and 
cracked in deep fissures. The life of the brook itself is gone: 
at least, it is gone from the places in which we usually find 
it. And yet, we know it will reappear, for where there is 
drouth now, there has been drouth before, and failure of 


307 


308 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


water, times in- 
numerable, thru 
past centuries: 
and we know that 
nature maintains 
in the brook only 
such plants and 
animals as are 
Fic. 133. “Pitchforks" or “Spanish Needles" in flower: Capable, in one 
see fig, 39 on page 69 for fruit. 

way or another, 
of meeting the exigencies of such times as this. 

If the aquatic plants have disappeared, and the aquatic 
animals also, save for a few that may be discovered hiding 
under trash in the moister places, there will be found plenty 
of semi-aquatic brookside things still remaining. There 
will be weeds of many sorts, overhanging and brushing 
against us as we pass up the channel; willow-herbs and 
pitch-forks (fig. 133) in the sun, and rich weed (fig. 134) in 
the shady places. Then there will be coarse and straggling 


Fic. 134. Richweed (Pilea pumila). 


THE LITTLE BROOK GONE DRY 309 


sedges; also, some fine close-growing tussock-sedges, that 
build hillocks of green at the edges of the channel. There 
will be grasses, also; especially the pale cut-grass (Leersia), 


fringing the edges of former pools. 


Fic. 135. A late-season spray of the fowl 
meadow-grass (Panicularia mnervata), show- 
ing vegetative aerial offsets with roots: a small 
lateral offset is shown enlarged at the right. 


There will be a few fine 
mints, such as pepper- 
mint, spearmint, water- 
mint, and the less 
attractive bugle-weed. 
There will be a few fine 
wild flowers, such as 
turtleheads, skullcaps 
and lobelias. There 
will be evidences of 
animal life in the tracks 
of the muskrat and of 
birds in the dried mud- 
bed of the pools. 
Robins, that sit, while 
we pass by, on the lower 
branches of the trees, 
with gaping beaks, pant- 
ing in the shade—these 
have been exploring the 
brook-bed before us. 
They have been seeking 
for things to replace 
earthworms in their 
diet, since the drying 
of the topsoil in the 
fields has driven the 


worms down below. Other things there are to take advantage 
of the hapless brook-dwellers. The concentration of the 
pools leaves their inhabitants exposed to merciless 


enemies. 


310 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Where burrowing crawfishes abound, their holes will be 
found—some of them capped over with mud chimneys since 
the drought began. We can test the depth to which the 
water-level in the soil has descended by probing the craw- 
fish holes with a stick. 

Where we lose the channel of the brook, 
as we pass out into a small grassy flood-plain, 
we find that though there is no water in sight, 
there is moisture in the soil. Such soil-gather- 
ing things as the fowl-meadow-egrass (fig. 135) 
are making the most of the situation; they are 
covering the plain with a tangle of stems that 
will strain out of subsequent floods their burden 
of silt and trash. Thus will the plain be built 
a little higher; another layer will be added to 
form rich moisture-holding soil. 

By the side of the brook gone dry, nature 
sets us examples in the conservation of 
moisture. There we may find plants burned 
to death with the drouth; others of the same 
species wilted sadly, but still alive; and others, 
green and flourishing. The differences are 
mainly due to the disposition of the soil about 


Fig. 196. ide t; their roots; soil hard and bare in the first case, 


Oe ie re and well adapted to facilitate loss of water; 
and loose soil well covered from the sun in 
the last case, and full of reserve moisture. 

Somewhere, along our brook, we may come upon a reedy 
swale now dry enough to walk across, but never dry enough 
for -field-crops, and therefore left unmolested by the plow. 
It is apt to be filled with sedges and marsh ferns, with a 
few cat-tails in the wettest spots, and to have round about, 
a fringe of moisture-loving composites such as boneset, joe- 
pye weed, swamp-milkweed, goldenrod and New England 


THE LITTLE BROOK GONE DRY 311 


aster. Such a meadow glade is sure to be the home of many 
little rodents, such as meadowmice and shrews. If we look 
among the grass about the flower-clumps, we will find their 
shallow runways at the surface of the ground. 


Study 46. A Brook Gone Dry 


This is a study for a dry seasonin midsummer. The brook 
chosen for it should be flowing through water-holding soils, 
and it should be one that is ordinarily a “‘living’”’ brook, but 
that has succumbed to the drouth. 


The program of work will consist of a survey of a portion 
of the brook-bed and its borders, of sufficient extent to in- 
clude typical portions, such as riffles and pools and miniature 
flood-plains. Brookside plants are to be observed, as well as 
all signs of animal life; also the more obvious relations of the 
water supply and the brook to different levels of adjacent 
fields. Observe what kinds of plants have succumbed to the 
drouth and where situated. 

The record of this study may consist of: 

1. A sketch-map of the portion of the brookside studied, 
showing location of pools, riffles, rock ledges, flood-plains, 
leaf-drifts, etc., and showing also the principal natural plant 
formations by the brookside. 

2. Lists of plants and animals found in the more typical 
situations, with notes on their condition as affected by the 
drouth. List all plants found in the brook-bed, whether 
they belong there or whether they be chance seedlings of 
land plants springing up in unsuitable places. 


XLVII SWIMMING HOLES 


“We twa hae paidl’t a’ the burn 
From mornin’ sun till dine.” 5 
—Burns (Auld Lang Syne). 


Of all elemental tastes, the liking for dabbling in water is, 
perhaps, the. most widespread. Man and beast and bird, 
with few exceptions, love the waterside. They drink, they 
bathe, they play there. The water is cooling and refreshing. 
It yields cleanliness, and comfort, and pleasant recrea- 
tion. 

Swimming is one of the most widespread accomplishments 
in the animal world, even among terrestrial mammals. 
Most of them swim instinctively, just as they eat or breathe. 
Man is the only one that acquires the art by practice. For 
nearly all others, swimming is an inherited ancestral habit, 
that probably harks back to a remote age; for life began 
in the water, and the more primitive members of all the 
great groups of animals are aquatic still. 

Certain of our wild semi-aquatic mammals, like the otter 
and the mink, swim and dive and play in the water with an 
ease and a grace and an abandon that are delightful. Their 
agility almost equals that of fishes. Young otters are re- 
ported to chase each other down slides in the banks, like 
boys in a’ swimming hole. But our domesticated beasts 
rarely swim voluntarily. They prefer merely to dabble in 
the edge of the water, enjoying its coolness and a certain 
protection it affords from flies. Hogs wallow and smear 
themselves with mud. The American bison did likewise. 
Cows stand in the water in fly-time, with their thin-skinned 
under parts immersed, and their tails flinging spray over 
their backs. This sort of installment shower-bath does good 
in two ways. When it wets the wings of flies, it puts them 


312 


SWIMMING HOLES 313 


temporarily out of commission; and when the water evap- 
orates, its effect is cooling on the cow’s skin. 

The song-birds, also, have their bathing places. We 
walk up a small rivulet on a hot day, and cautiously approach 
its pools, and there we find the robins and the sparrows 
and other birds at their aquatic sports. Standing singly or 
by twos and threes in the shoal water, they create a great 
shower with the flutter of their wings. And this they do at 
great personal risk; for cats and other enemies may be 
lurking in the shrubbery 
that grows beside the 
pools. Oneof the ways 
to conserve the birds 
is to provide them with 
safe water fountains. 

Man is imitative far 
beyond every other 
creature, and especially 
so in youth. It is 
" natural, therefore, that 
Ere. ee Hpating birds’ bath on a pond: out he should enter the 

water and try to do 
there, even though clumsily, what he sees other creatures 
doing. Once in the new medium, and used to its coolness 
and its buoyancy, the boy begins to try the tricks of the 
swimming-things about him. The dog swims in one way, 
and he imitates that. The frog swims in another way, and 
he imitates that. And then he begins to invent new ways 
‘-of his own. 

The greatest social center in Boyville is the swimming 
hole. Its popularity is undoubted. Its resources are in- 
exhaustible. It is democratic beyond most of our institu- 
tions. It isn’t much of a place to look at, as a rule—just a 
bit of open water, a pond, or a pool in the creek, with broad 


314 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


shoals where beginners may learn, and a deep hole for the 
skillful to plunge in, and a clean bank on which to come out 
and dress. The only 
necessary artificial 
equipment is a spring 
board, to aidin making 
spectacular plunges. 
And if it have, slop- 
ing into the water, a soft clay bank down which bare feet 
may slide, or a black sticky mud, suitable for bodily 
decorations, it is especially well endowed by nature. 
Where else on earth is there so simple an equipment capable 
of fostering so much unalloyed pleasure, or of so effectively 
putting ‘‘every care beyond recall?” 

There is so much to learn at the swimming hole! Floating, 
and diving, and ducking, and staying under, and springbroad 
plunges, and swimming in all positions and with all the 
strokes; and every new feat mastered and well and publicly 
performed, adds so to one’s standing and respectability and 
influence in the swimming-hole community—it must be 
real education! 


Fic. 138. Poor modern alternatives. 


te Ce 
Nie es: _ 


Fic. 139. ‘Every care beyond recall” 


SWIMMING HOLES 315 


Study 47. Swimming Holes 


This is a study of the common propensity of land animals 
toward water sports and pastimes. A hot day should be 
selected, and places chosen where animals naturally gather 
by the waterside. The creatures most available for observa- 
tion will probably be small boys, dogs, pigs, cows, and birds. 
If any one does not know where the swimming holes are, let 
him ask the first small boy of the neighborhood encountered. 
To locate the watering-places of farm animals, let him ask 
the stockman. To locate the best bird baths, let him ask 
some local ornithologist; or, better, let him put up his own 
basin for the benefit of the birds in some place convenient 
for observation and away from danger and alarms and keep 
it supplied with fresh water; the birds will come and use it, 
without resenting observation. Times for making observa- 
tions of the various sorts suggested should be so chosen as to 
avoid school-time and mealtime of the boys, milking time for 
the cows, and feeding time and sleeping time for all the others. 

The program of work for this study will have to be shaped 
in accordance with the local opportunities offered; it is left 
wholly to the instructor. Better than a single session’s obser- 
vations on the aquatic habits of a variety of animals, may be a 
record for a week of brief daily observations at one bathing 
place (as for example, at a bird-fountain), notes being kept 
on the numbers and kinds of participants and the nature of 
their aquatic sports. 

The record of this study will vary with the subjects selected 
and the opportunities for observation. It should narrate 
the full procedure of the animals studied when they are 
taking a bath, whether in mud or water. It should include 
an account of all the aquatic activities of the animals ob-. 
served, evidences of benefit or of pleasure derived therefrom, 
and the location and character of the aquatic situations 
chosen by each species for its pastime. 


XLVIII. WINDING ROADS 


“O, down the valley do they go, where all is sweet and still, 
To gently wind and turn about and hide behind the hill. 
They are not as the city's streets; they have no clash and roar 
But high and wide above them do the songbirds wheel and soar; 
And bordering their sides are vines, that spill their wealth of bloom 
Through which the sunshine spatters like jewels in the gloom. 
Where do they go? the little roads that find the hidden ways, 
As memories that ramble down through misty yesterdays.” 

—Wilbur D. Nesbit (The Winding Roads). 


This is our last field trip together. Let us betake ourselves 
to some little winding roadway that has escaped the ‘‘march 
of progress.”’ No fine highway for us today; no boulevard, 
graded like a speedway, raw in its newness, full of dust and 
din, or stinking with oil. No, let it be a little unimproved 
roadway winding among the hills; a roadway with a past, 
and with no concern about the future, settled, peaceful, 
redolent with the fragrance of bordering woods and fields; 
a roadway circling the hills and not demanding their removal; 
a roadway with the scars of its ancient struggle for existence 
all healed; its embankments hidden by graceful drapery of 
verdure let down over them from the bordering woods. 
And, if it be a dusty roadway, may the dust be clean and cool, 
dappled with the shadows of pleasant trees or pitted with the 
fall of the great drops of the summer rain, or printed with 
the feet of men or animals, or with the wheels of lazy 
vehicles. 

If such it be, we shall see few people passing, but we may 
see other inhabitants: for the bushes by such a roadside are 
full of birds, and rabbits and gophers sit nibbling at the way- 
side clovers. The signs of other passers-by will not be lack- 
ing. A sinuous trail through the dust may show where a 
garter snake crossed the road; the streaks radiating from a 
‘“‘chuck-hole” in a rut may show where a grouse took a dust- 

316 


WINDING ROADS 317 


bath. Tracks of crows and squirrels on the dust or on the 
mud after a rain may tell of their coming and going. 

But if there be neither man nor beast nor bird in evidence, 
there are many other things that make the roadside interest- 
ing, and not the least of these is the succession of pictures that 
every turn discloses. 

Here we pass a few panels of old fence draped with Virginia 
creeper, and backed up by spreading hawthorns and sprightly 
chokecherries. The clay bank at its foot is overspread with 
a mixed carpet of grasses and mosses and cinquefoil and 
mouse-ear. A long purple raspberry cane reaches through 
the panel, and near it are a coarse pink-topped teasel and a 
blue aster. Nobody planted these so: nobody figured out 
their times and seasons, their harmonies of color and form, 
their requirements of light and moisture, They slipped in 
unawares, each finding its own place, and proceeded to cover 
a clay bank and a bare fence with loveliness. Yonder, where 
a carelessly set fire has laid bare a little strip, one may see by 
the contrasting ugliness what beauty they have wrought. 

On the other side are trees. “Their boughs are thick and 
bushy, and heavy with leafage. Long years have passed 
since the road was cut through, giving full exposure to the sun, 
and the trees have robed themselves with heavy foliage 
masses coming down to the ground. They are full-fledged. 
Ahead, we see their gracefully rounded outlines and their 
colors, and near at hand the dainty sculpturings and textures 
of their leaves come into view. Yonder is a dark, shadowy 
glade with a canopy of overarching birch tops above, and 
with slender horizontal sprays of leaves of maple extended 
beneath as though they were floating in theair. Below we 
catch a gleam from the surface of a dark pool. 

Now we come to a steeply rising bank, which doubtless was 
once bare—long since, when graders had finished their work. 
But nature had some wild roses and asters growing on the 


318 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


summit, and these grew and spilled over and poured down the 
slope to the very roadside, where they remain to this day in 
charming confusion. And year after year the bank is flecked 
with the pink of the roses in summer and dappled with the 
blue of the asters in autumn. 

We pass under a great oak that stretches its long horizontal 
boughs across our way, holding out flat canopies of leaves, 
whose shadows run waveringly over the dust of the road. 
We round the top of the little hill, where the view opens out 
across a valley with a strip of sparkling water. We descend a 
gentle slope and come upon .a low-lying meadow, bordered 
with great masses of golden-rod and elder. We cross a 
bridge, almost without seeing it; for it is the sort of bridge 
our fathers builded, a bridge of gray stone taken from the hill- 
side ledge: a broad and solid bridge built to stand while the 
rill runs beneath it. The rill is hidden by herbage, but we 
hear its gurgling. What’ was once a rubbish-heap below, is 
now a blossomy mass of verdure, with virgin’s-bower and 
morning-glories running riot over it. Across the meadow lie 
the shadows of tree-forms cast from the hill behind us, and 
beyond the meadow rises a steep tree-clad slope, with the 
tessellated sprays of beech and the rounded crowns of the 
maple mingled and rising like billows to the ridge. There, a 
few white pines stand out like sentinels. While we are look- 
ing at the spreading herbs beneath the trees, our road turns 
again to pass around the hill. 

So, it leads us on, with its promises of ever-new and charm- 
ing pictures. Its vistas, disclosed at every turn, are not 
more satisfying than are its sweet miniatures, seen near at 
hand. These are the ripe results of many years of nature’s 
handiwork. Every nook and corner is planted with verdure 
of incomparable design. 

This is not a road to race over, seeing nothing. No; it 
must be travelled slowly, and a bit reverently, if one would 


WINDING ROADS 319 


see and know. Nature never rewards impatience. So may 
we go serenely, expectantly, around the next bend. So may 
we ever go when seeking the true pleasures of life. 

And when a little winding road shall, some day, bring us 
to the town where we must dwell, happy shall we be if the 
simple elements of the wild roadside loveliness are cherished 
there; if the plants by the way grow lush and fine; if the 
roadside greenery drops down gently to the borders of the 
street; if the little side-pathslead into pleasant places, andthe 
shadows that lie across the grass seem to invite one to enter 
and rest; if sunny openings are filled with flowers, and 
shadowy retreats, with soft filmy sprays of leaves; if bare 
walls are banked with foliage, or festooned with the graceful 
drapery of vines; thrice happy, if some of the little wild 
things, nature’s exquisite little tender things, planted and 
cared for by the wayside in places suited to them, tell us we 
have for neighbors some gentle souls who care for things as 
God made them. 


Study 48. A Winding Country Road 


The program of work for this study will consist of a walk 
along a short stretch of an old rural roadway, preferably 
among wooded hills, seeking out the natural beauties of the 
roadside. A road of long standing, little mowed or graded, 
should be chosen. A map of the portion to be examined may 
be provided. 

Views, such as the following may be located: 

1. An open vista along the roadway itself. 

2. A forest aisle along the roadway itself. 

3. An inviting side path or branch road. 

4. Ashadowy glade. 

5. A distant display of tufted foliage on a steeply-rising 
wooded slope. 


320 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


6. A near-by display of leaf-cover, of elegant design. 
7. Adisplay of wild flowers. 
The record of this study may consist of: 
1. The map above mentioned, with arrows marked upon 
it indicating such views as above noted. 
2. Brief descriptive list of them, stating for each, 
(a) What elements of the view most appeal to you as 
being beautiful. 


(b) What kinds of wild things nature has chiefly used to 
make it so. 


“The little cares that fretted me, 

I lost them yesterday 

Among the fields above the sea 
Among the winds at play 

Among the lowing of the herds 
The rustling of the trees 

Among the singing of the birds, 
The humming of the bees. 


“The foolish fears of what may happen 

I cast them all away 

Among the clover-scented grass, 
Among the new mown hay, 

Among the husking of the corn 
Where drowsy poppies nod 

Where ill thoughts die and good are born 
Out in the fields with God. 


—Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 


Individual Exercises for the Summer Term 


Five studies follow, that, like those for the fall and spring 
terms (pages 126 and 2209 et seq.), are intended to be made 
by the student working alone and at his own convenience. 
Four of them call for weekly observations extending over 
the entire term; but these are such observations as can be 
made on walks for health and pleasure with no great 
expenditure of time. 


Optional Study 11. A Grass Calendar 


The great grass family is one with which we ought to be 
acquainted, considering the importance of the role it plays. 
It furnishes a principal part of the food supply of man and 
beast. Of the thousands of species of grasses in the world, 
we know a few as cereals (wheat, corn, oats, barley, etc.), a 
few as pasture grasses, a few as noxious weeds, and a few 
as ornamental grasses. 

There are other grasses, relatives of those we cultivate, 
growing wild in every locality. There are grasses for every 
situation, wet or dry, in sun or in shade; and they are of 
great diversity of form and habit, and of great beauty and 
interest. 

The object of this study is to get on speaking terms with 
a dozen or more of the local grasses, wild or cultivated, and 
to observe their behavior through the summer season. 
Growing patches of several kinds should be located near at 
hand, where they may be visited at least once a week with- 
out too great expenditure of time, and where they are most 
likely to remain uncut. The list should include one or two 
of the thin straggling grasses that grow in the thickets, and 
one or two of the annual species that grow as weeds in fields 


321 


322 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


and gardens; also, if convenient, one or two water-grasses, 
such as cut-grass, manna-grass or reed. Weekly observa- 
tions should be made through the term on the activities of 
the whole plant—what it is doing in leaf or stem or flower or 
fruit production; what it is doing below ground in the 
way of production of stools or offsets; when starting growth 
or second growth; when distributing seeds, etc. 


For record, these observations may be entered in the 
columns of a cross-ruled table, the left-hand column being 
reserved for the names of the grasses, and dates being written 
at the top of the other columns in proper order. Names of 
the grasses, if needed, will be supplied by the instructor 
when a flowering or fruiting specimen is furnished for 
identification. Following the name of each kind of grass, 
there should be written, in the proper date columns, the 
observations made upon it. Footnotes may include any 
observations for which there is not room in the table. 


Optional Study 12. A Calendar of Summer Wild Flowers 


This is a continuation, through the summer season, of the 
observations on spring flowers, outlined in Optional Study 8 
on page 230, and may follow the plan there outlined. For 
the second table-heading, “Relation to leaf-unfolding,” 
substitute: ‘“‘Form and size of flower-cluster (diagram, 
and give measurements)”’. 


INDIVIDUAL EXERCISES FOR SUMMER TERM 323 


Optional Study 13, A Calendar of Bird-nesting 


Nothing is more delightful to observe than the skill with 
which birds hide and build their nests. A few, like those of 
the Baltimore oriole, are hung out in plain view, but most of 
them are so well hidden that we can find them only by most 
careful and unobtrusive watching of the coming and going 
of the parent birds. 

This is a study for those who know how to find the nests, 
and who know how to observe them without causing the 
parent birds to desert them. It would better be under- 
taken by those who have had some experience, for finding 
the nests will require too much time on the part of a beginner. 


For record, the observations on bird-nesting may be writ- 
ten in the columns of a cross-ruled table, in which the first 
column is reserved for bird names, and the other columns 
are reserved each for the observations of one period, with the 
date written at the top. After the name of each bird there 
should be written, under proper date, a brief record of the 
building operations in which the species is engaged: as 
searching for sites, laying foundations, building walls, inter- 
weaving moss or feathers, completing lining, etc. Also 
subsequent nesting phenomena, such as: first egg, last 
egg, hatching, feeding, leaving nest, etc. Ample footnotes 
may contain data for which there is not room in the table. 

Another form of calendar, that may oftentimes be pre- 
ferable where one species of bird, favorable for observation, 
is abundant, may be made up of the observations on pairs 
of birds of a single species; the left-hand column of the:table 
for record will then be reserved for the location of the several 
nests. 


324 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Optional Study 14. Best Crops on the Farm 


The object of this study is to encourage personal observa- 
tions on the growth of the products of the fields. A dozen 
or more such cultivated crops as corn, wheat, oats, hay, 
clover, potatoes, millet, apples, buckwheat, turnips, etc., are 
to be severally examined in all the fields of the farm, and the 
best found are to be set down for record in the columns of 
a table of the form of that shown on pages 130 and 131, 
having such headings as the following: 

Name of crop. 

Location (in what field or portion of same). 

Kind of soil. 

Preparation of soil (information may be obtained from 
farm records). 

Condition (of crop at the conclusion of this study). 

Method of planting (if not observed, see farm records). 

Subsequent treatment (if not observed, see farm records). 

Yield (actual or estimated; specify which). 


INDIVIDUAL EXERCISES FOR SUMMER TERM = 325 


Optional Study 15. A Corn Record 


Corn is King! 

This beautiful plant, that our forefathers, when they first 
came to America, found growing in little patches about the 
camps of the red men, has become our great staple. The 
following study of its natural history may be made in any 
convenient cornfield. It calls for careful observations at 
least once a week (oftener in flowering time) on germination, 
leaf-unfolding, stooling, prop-root formation, tasseling, 
“‘shooting’’ of ears, responses to drouth, or to wind, ripening, 
etc.; in short, on all phases of the behavior of the plant. 

The record may be in the form of a diary with weekly (or 
more frequent) entries covering: 

temperature, rainfall, windstorms, 
and other relevant weather condi- 

1. Physical factors} tions. 

of environment |condition of soil as to tilth, weeds, 
etc. 
tillage. 


average height at each date of record. 
2. Growth details of its development and be- 
havior. 
birds, animals, insects, fungi, etc., 
{ found causing injury. 


3. Enemies 


Outdoor Equipment 


It is a part of the public duty of those who know the value 
of our natural endowment to protect and preserve some 
portion of it wherever possible, and to put it to educational 
use. We, as a people, have had the American soil in our 
keeping for only a few generations; and yet we have well 
nigh extinguished its native life over large areas. It is well 
to have fields and stock-pens, for we must be fed and clothed: 
but, it is well, also, to have something to show of the richness 
and resourcefulness of nature, for we must be educated. 

Coming generations will need the wild things. Without 
seeing them, they will never understand the history of their 
own country. They will never know what things confronted 
their forefathers to baffle them: what things gave them succor 
and enabled them to live here and establish a new nation. 
They will want to know what the native life of their native 
land was like. 

There is plenty of wild life of many sorts in America still, 
but it is getting farther and farther from the haunts of men 
and lost to its former use. The attention of youth is occupied 
more and more with artificialities. The wild places near at 
hand are made unclean, and then are shunned. Our necessary 
‘Gmprovements’ are made with much unnecessary waste 
and heedless despoiling of the beauties of nature. 

This is largely due to ignorance. That anything wild is 
worth saving has hardly occurred to the average citizen; 
that anything wild may be saved without hindering improve- 
ments is an idea foreign to his experience. For he has been 
filled with zeal to make the world over; to cut down all the 
woods and drain all the bogs, and fill all the ravines with 
rubbish; to reduce it all to a neat pattern of cement sidewalks, 
encircling lawns and cabbage patches. 

326 


OUTDOOR EQUIPMENT 327 


In the cities where the pressure for room has been greatest 
and the destruction of native wild life completest, men have 
cried out for nature and for green things growing, and parks 
have been made. But the average park is a stretch of grass 
to be kept off from, and the best of parks are good and whole- 
some and inspiring and informing in proportion as they repro- 
duce the wildwood. , 

So, before the last bits of wildwood near us have been 
destroyed, it is time to think of preserving some of them for 
the sake of those who shall come after us. This was not 
necessary in the days of the pioneer, but with rising land 
values and more intensive agriculture, the extermination of 
the wild life is proceeding .at an ever accelerating rate. The 
rich life of the Illinois prairies is a memory. The streams in 
all our settled parts have been made barren and unclean. 
The swamps—nature’s own sanctuaries—are being drained. 
In the better agricultural areas of America, we have almost 
reached that day of desolation when the possession of a 
natural grove, or of a wild-flower preserve, however small, is 
enough to give a farm distinction—to mark it as a home of 
culture. 

Three things a naturalist should do for the public good. 
He should endeavor: (1) to prevent unnecessary and ill- 
considered destruction of natural beauty everywhere: (2) 
to aid nature in the restoration of beauty to waste places: 
(3) to make the bits of nature near at hand more serviceable 
in the education of the public. 


Saving the remnant. It will not do for those who best 
know the esthetic and educational values of wild life to 
merely sit back lamenting when its extinction is threatened. 
When natural beauty spots are about to be ravaged and 
stocked with artificial gewgaws; when the public roadsides 
are to be shorn of their copses of flowering shrubbery, 
only to be made into weed patches; when flower decked 


328 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


ravines are to be turned into rat-hatcheries by filling them 
with garbage and rubbish; when sparkling streams are to be 
fouled with stinking slops and oils by the slovenliness of 
some streamside factory; when public groves are to be cleared 
without any intelligent supervision, merely to provide work 
for a public labor-gang in the slack season:- whenever 
these or any other such things, as are occuring daily all over 
the land, are about to be committed, it is the duty of the 
naturalist to speak out in protest. He should endeavor to 
enlist the enlightened public sentiment of his community, 
to have the esthetic and educational values of such places 
considered, ere they are destroyed. They are sure to be under- 
valued because they have cost the public nothing. In this 
they are like all true gifts of heaven. 

In city communities, there are Audubon societies, and 
wildflower preservation societies, and civic improvement 
societies, and conservation societies, etc., that include in 
their membership the best brains and culture of the place; 
and the aid of such organizations is easily enlisted in sucha 
cause. In any community there are those that love the beauty 
and freshness of unspoiled nature, and who will gladly use 
their influence toward saving something for future enjoy- 
ment. The first thing to be done is to see that those admin- 
istering the public works in question are irformed of the 
value of the wild things about to be destroyed. Often, it 
is necessary that they be informed of the very existence of 
such things. Next there is need of eternal vigilance. 

Improving waste places. When necessary public works, 
however destructive of natural scenery, have been completed, 
then a little careful forethought for the use of the things 
nature freely offers, will make the place beautiful again. 
The naturalist should assist in planning their betterment. 
He of all people, should know what things are most available, 
and best suited to every use and situation. 


OUTDOOR EQUIPMENT 329 


Suppose a bridge is to be built. Everybody knows that 
an old bridge, settled in the midst of clumps of greenery and 
spanning a clear stream makes a beautiful picture. A new 
bridge looks otherwise: it rises starkly from a sea of mud, 
joins two new-born dump heaps. For, when a bridge is built, 
usually just enough money is appropriated to do the necess- 
ary excavating, to dispose of the dirt in the easiest way and 
to put up the bridge itself: nothing is available for restoring 
beauty to the place. What are the things needed for’ this? 
Willows by the waterside: filmy pale green small-leaved wild 
willows, to nestle in soft masses by the abutments: elms and 
sycamores to cover the rising slopes; or vines, if the dump be 
of broken stone: swamp iris or water shamrock to cover the 
bare mud—things that do not cost a cent for they may be 
found in nature’s wild nurseries; things that will grow with- 
out any coddling, that need only proper planting—in short 
the things that grow wild in such places. These will restore 
the beauty of the place in the minimum of time, and with 
the least expense. In the course of years, nature, if not 
prevented, will restore these things herself: but the effect 
will be better, and the desired results will be attained much 
more quickly for a little intelligent aid. 

So, roadsides, that are considered ‘‘finished’’ when a 
toadbed is secured, may be refurnished: level filled lands may 
be made fresh green meadows, instead of being allowed to 
become wildernesses of weeds: slopes disfigured with stumpage 
may be reforested. It should be the privilege of the natural- 
ist to enlist public spirited folk in the promotion of such bet- 
terments. It will help the good name of his community. 

The greater the number of people who can be got to 
participate'in this work, the better it will be established in 
public opinion: the more children helping, the better its 
results will be insured against future vandalism. About 
schools and colleges, things should be planted, not solely 


330 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


for ornament, as at present, but for their educational use- 
fulness as well. 


Making natural reserves servicable. Education began 
in ‘‘fresh air schools” Country folk have always been wont 
to meet in groves for public exercises. The fresh air and the 
open sky, the majesty of the trees, and the freshness of the 
unspoiled verdure have irresistibly drawn them out of doors. 
With the revival of interest in field work, we are going out 
doors in companies again and taking some of our work with 
us. 

It is not so easy now, as once it was, to find a spot prepared 
by nature for a gathering place. The requisite conditions are 
that all who come together shall be able to see and to hear 
and to sit comfortably while listening or working. A grassy 
bank under a tree, when dry enough, may meet these con- 
ditions. For many years a few great trunks of fallen trees 
in the Renwick woods at Ithaca served as meeting places 
for classes in biological field work. But places better suited 
to the needs of classes may easily be arranged in the woods. 

For more continuous use as an outdoor class room, ‘“‘The 
Covert,’’ at Ithaca was made. A natural hollow in tne woods, 
over-arched and shaded by trees, was fitted with seats of 
flat field-stones, arranged in semi-circles. Aisles were left 
for passing and paths were made for entrance and exit. At 
the center a massive table, with a slate slab for a top, was 
built of hollow tile and plastered. A door was set in the back 
of its hollow base, and its interior is used for the storage of 
grass mats, between sessions. These mats are handed out 
for use by classes when the stones are damp and cold. 
“The Covert’ is an excellent type of educational equip- 
ment that can be made in any woods. It is very substantial 
and permanent. It does not disfigure the woods (being hardly 
discernible from a distance of a few rods in any direction) 
and it is growing in beauty every year as its trees grow older, 


OUTDOOR EQUIPMENT 331 


its paths become better turfed, and its surrounding plant- 
ings develop. It was made bya few weeks of labor on the part 
of two students, and it cost less than ten dollars for materials. 

Gathering places for larger numbers may be made on the 
‘same general plan. The author once took a class in natural 
history out to a small grove, and set the members studying 
the trees and the slopes with a view to locating and arranging 
therein, with the least possible disturbance to the wild wood, 
an outdoor auditorium for public addresses, concerts and 
sylvan plays. The result is the simply arranged natural 
amphitheater shown in fig. 140: A isthe floor plan; Bis 


SEBO EY ON 


Fig. 140. Diagram of an outdoor auditorium. 


332 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


a vertical section, showing a properties-room, P beneath 
the stage, and a vestibule, V, for entrance from the rear; 
and C is the end of arowof seats. In the floor plan T,T,T, 
etc., indicate the trunks of high-crowned trees, left standing 
to furnish shade. The artificialities of the plan are such only 
as are necessary: comfortable seats, conveniently arranged, 
and a good stage. These are made of cement on ribbed metal 
lath, plastered on both sides and colored green or gray or 
‘brown. The sylvan picture round about is carefully pre- 
served. The aisles are grass paths. Under the seats are beds 
of violets. Greensward masks the stage and low evergreens 
define front and rear stage entrances. A bank of tall ever- 
greens furnishes a background at the rear of the stage. All 
around are trees for shade. A rising turf covered bank at 
the rear of the seats provides for overflow on great occasions, 
the limit of capacity being set by a bank of evergreens fronted 
with thorny barberry. Vines added for grace, and flowering 
trees and shrubs for color are used to fill surrounding niches. 
‘Thick walls of verdure round about exclude outside distrac- 
tions. Grass paths of ample width, well defined by border 
plantings, give easy access, and invite pedestrians to keep 
off the other vegetation. 

No community will long gather in such places without 
coming to feel an interest in the wild things. By the posses- 
sion and use of such outdoor places, the public may be 
educated in the appreciation of nature. 


INDEX 


PAGE PAGE 
Abundance ............... 16 | Apple-maggot ............- 305 
Abutilon.............-. 159, 259 | Appletree ............- 153, 302 
Acquaintance ............. 11} April (ocncces boss mest een 208 
ACOMS! as cd egipg anaes 29, 30,259 | Aquaticinsects ............ 39° 
ACOTUS! con swine ees 36, 61, 293 | Aquatic plants............. 308 
Acroneuria. 4% eiveise ceves 42 | Arboretum 6. cacceses sees 45 
ACTOnY Cta. <3 46508 geek tana 269 | Arborvite ...........0005- gI 
Adder’s-tongue .205, 208, 210, 234 | Arctium (burdock)......... 159° 
Adirondacks............... 84 | Aroids.............00005- 61, 63 
Adjustment ............ 233,293 | Aromaticcedar............ gI 
Advertise ..............0.. 265 | Aromaticherbs............ 243 
Aérial roots. sus ssc03 case? x 13| Aromatic oils.............. 249° 
Agassiz, Louis ............. 14.| Arrow arms: oc scineccsaes 61 
Age of Chivalry............ 108 | Arrowhead ............... 62 
Agricultural conditions ..... 98 |. Arrow-woods .......... 143, 187 
Agriculture .......... 9, 104, 327 | Arsenateoflead............ 269 
Ailanthus: as acg caves cas nae se 233) Attichoké: ...ceencaeics ees 60 
Alders <a masen ge sek ees aes 292 | Artistic standards.......... 128 
Alexander, C. P Sait esi HB ceo 63 | Asclepias (milkweed)....... 159 
AMP aL A: cise P srace Seetd aye eraneie 240 | Asellus .............005. 38, 192 
AIS es soy arabe natn 35, 36, 192, a7 DSTA fale oo a chs Nacavecnl Sie 74, 129, 170° 
Alcohol ...........000 009s Asparagus ............0005 244 
Alum TOOb i's oh es ware wes aa Asphalt pavement.......... 33 
Amphicarpea ............. 62::| GASS ceca eee ens Smee 2 109, 110 
Amphiagrion .............. 42 | Association ............ 291, 293 
Anaxjunius ............... 42 | Asters..... 205, 262, 292, 311, 317 
Ancestors ..........00000- 72 | As YouLikelt............. 252 
Anemonella ............... 210 | Attachment discs .......... 287° 
Anemones 25 9a.c602-eee vee: 208 | Audubon societies.......... 328 
Animals ............. 36, 39, 110 | Augochlora ............... 214 
Animals farm............ 96,274 | Auld Lang Syne............ 312 
Animal fibers.............. 160: ) AUtUMIM 2.2 eee vais wae 66, 134 
Animal husbandry ......... 196 | Autumn’s Mirth ........... 66 
ANISC 2: 2% yacnnin inetees ee heat 247 | Autumnal Coloration... .137, 201 
Annual plants ............. 235; 4 AVONSy. cunseagus ganas esas 294 
Anopheles ................ 295: | AZaleaS, 0 saa a tcterdedn ees 144 
Aphids ........ 268, 270, 271, 303 
Apios.......... 60, 285, 286, 289 | Back swimmer............. 39 
Apocynum (dogbane) ...... 159 | Backtonature............. II 
Appetite for blood.......... 27.50'|| IBACOME ¢ cue tcs.sepeG.duayhie’e-atarae 24 
Apples ........ 16,17,19 73 246 | Bacteria, nitrogen gathering . 237 
Apple blossoms ............ 214 | Badger................... 97 
Apple-curculio ............ 304 | Badtaste................. 123 
Appleleaf miner ........... BOA i TBARS 3.2 eae a ates a aeaecavens Suns 14 


334 

PAGE 
BalanGe: guvncuy sav een nay ane 205 
Balance of nature .......... 198 


Balaninus (acorn weevil).... 27 


Bality 2 cand cg Ras ames dees 247 
Balsains oe cyiiex wie sairitiarars 54, 91 
Balsam-apple.............. 288 
Barbidge: waeak ax iceaa: ees 247 
Barberry .............4. 20, 167 
Bark beetles............... 30 
Bark-strings............... 155 
Barnyard 2.5 cowie 20a yore 117 
Basile ses th peda ences eee 247 
Basket. escorts eeeeusee es 14 
Basket industry............ ee 
BASSES! i sccsveaie soap dccuestue eaeebee 
Basswood....... 74, 129, 155, a 
ae places............. 313 
md utter etal yaeiucd atv 99, 102 
Boe, Danae s43 sored aes te 84 
Beard-tongue vi ereateceieanen aay 266 
TREATS. soci ica vidas: Sasceoee hese 9, 98, 182 
Beasts of prey............. 2 
Beauties of nature.......... 
Beaver ............ 9,96, 97, ia 
Beech ....... 72,74, 129,170, 225 
Beechnut ..54 wee ceaaye pews 
Beech: ntitss 34 .cb da pene s te = 
Beech woods .............. 129 
B6G2AY ioe oe auaresaun deed ania ees 226 
Beetle........... 27, I81, 217, 305 
Beetle larve............... 182 
Beets. 5 are sey aes ge beans ae 60 
Bedstiaws: 22eekys5saeeesas 293 
*Bénacus aac cs uae sha adage Ss 39 
Bennett, William C........ 307 
Bergamot ................ 247 
BeBe) ii nk ara igs ae oo ee 296 
Berry-bearing shrubs .17, 189, 201 
Beverage ............000-- 18 
Binding-twine.............. 156 
Bindweeds ................ 288 
BIS «de iscicgues baud 97, 98, 274, 312 


Birch. .72, 73, 74, 83, 129, 165, 317 


Birch bark ~ ss. see 178 
Birely euth., 1.0 Gaatate's ange eens 83 
Bitdsiy «5 3660 3 tees x use 19, 22, 24, 


67, 157, 189, 197, 201, 220, 296 


Bird’s Bath. ec ce acne suena 313 
Bird migration............. 67 
Biting insects.............. 269 


NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


PAGE 
Bittersweet..... 71, 287, 288, 289 
Black bass .............4.. 46 
Blackberried elder........ 18, 146 
Blackberry...... 18, 244, 297, 298 
Black sfies a sca sanwed wae wick na aie 
36, 37, 39, 40, 274, 275, 276 
Black Maple .............. 170 
Black walnut.............. 188 
Blanket alge .............. 36 
Blanks for record.......... 13 
Blepharocera ............- 38 
Blepharoceride ........... 40 
Bloodroots 205, 208, 209, 210, 211 
Bloodsucking flies.......... 279 
Blueberries........... 17, 18, 144 
Blwebitd: 4 cg caks wean ds 221 
Blue flag (itis) ............. 293 
BIWE PTASSE nse acck tele ceva 55 
Blue-green alge............ 35 
Blue myttle ws ¢a2 es aca dines 92 
Bob-white ............. 116, 117 
Boneawl ..............0-. 157 
BOnesetr 2 ai 2cs feared. 293, 310 
BOrdersia ci cainines anders. 144 
BOPeES: acute ads bamonce 182, 303 
Bot-flies ...274, 275, 277, 278 a7 
Bounty of nature... ....... 10, 16 
Box-eldets: « ns cna snes oe ox 170 
-Bracken fern ....... 163 292 299 
Braiding: ae Gis sada eaten oe 156 
Brambles ...... 145 165, 186, 189 
Brasénla ..cxicsneavanavers 35 
Bret -Rabbiticcc sccnedatace 299 
Bride @ eine ss cagiisaginy ae 318, 329 
Bri€tS viaae sei erevie esas a 188 
Brier patch... s.aave0se ous s 299 
Broad-leaved evergreens .... 92 
Brooke csaatw phar ee i Beal 8 307, 310 
Brook trout .............4- 192 
BrOWwSING osc .c54e eae. 53, 58 
Brown-tail moth ........... 271 
Brush vtceea see 124, 143, at 
Brush fence: .. aj. 5 cae ows 
Brushwood...............- : 
Bryatit .c0 saa 143, 180, 193, 214 
BryOZOans jo: deus sien died 38 
Buckeye: :iscceagas cae wes 26, 28 
Buekthorn 2.4.0 20¢e¢284ms 8s 145 
Buckwheat.............. 86, 259 
' Buckwheat, climbing ....... 289 


INDEX 335 
PAGE PAGE 
Bud-moth caterpillars ...... 204.) Catbird y sas ey axa i245 we be 26 302 
Bullalo-cg ccaneewe ue pasos 9,906.) Catnip: s..0n08s ar bes ae seas 246 
Buffalo-berries........ 16,19, 144 | Caterpillars....... ake oo, 182, 304 
Buffalo gnat............. 37,176. | \CatfisheS .. iow 2 rae endens 47,48 
Bugle-weed ............... 309:-| -Catiip: ncacosndeecad aed 246, 247 
Building-sites ............. 191 | Cattail...... 36, 62, 292, 293, 310 
Bull dogs ................. TH} Cattle. 4.2 5-cee es eotea Phases. 
Bullheads ................ 47 32, 47, 52, 55, 56, 109, IIT, 277 
Bulrushes ............. 292, 293 | Cauliflower ............... 246 
Buprestide ............... 182 || Cavalier:...ccccce nernsaeets 108 
Burdock........... 159, 258, 262 | Cayuga ...............0.. 113 
Burns, Robert ........ 24, 96, 313 Ceanothus ...........:.... 270 
Bur-weed ................. 36) |) Cedar’ 305 ou.3 gots nineteen gI, 129 
BeEtow nec tetas we ae 150,176 | Cedar berries.............. 22 
Burrowers ............0.. 58.) Celastrus 2 ccusscansesscanes 288 
Burrowng bee ............. 215) | - Centaur ecuitg san ye sation 109 
Burrs: ose ss 438s aetna Se 12 | Centipedes............. 178, 181 
BUSHES (is foie sacs ih eoksdunnneteeleotes 197°} Cereals «0.3. Sosa 10, 32, 68, 127 
Bush fruits............... 17,22 | Cerambycide ............. 182 
BUCS Ds «ies ad Sakata dis Mires 24... “Ceremonials: avs creas eeaes 246 
Butter-and-eggs ........... 266 | Ceratophyllum ............ 35 
Buttereup jo. vce ses gheee 55,294 | Ceratopogon .............. 43 
Butterilies: + sh au¥enuaae ns 216 | Cherries............. 16, 22, 183 
Butternut..... 25, 28, 74,129,170 | Chestnut 
Buttonbush............ 144, 269 24, 28, 30, 73, 74, 129, se 
Chestnut Oak >... )... 
Cabbages: . .achccaa yacacn 54,246 | Chestnut Weevil........... 
Cabbage-lice .............. 270 | Chickadees................ 152 
Cabbage-worms ........... 270 | Chickens .............. 117, 118 
Caddis worms ........ 375 a 193 Chicks: 2.4236 casee4.gy4aes 118 
Calamus root (sweet fo Chickweeds ............... 55 
Calibaetis: 2% tscewe sae neen c CHICORY: gata dnudyin s kkncse aan 60 
Ae cece 9a re lores hea 19 | Chipmunk ............. 100, 102 
Camomile... i se56c4 senna 260 | Chironomide ............. 40 
Campfire ................ 83,84 | Chironomus .............. 43 
Campions.............. 245,264 | Chipping sparrow.......... 143 
Camp sites................ 83 | Chokecherries....... 20, 189, 317 
Canad ar: cca ti ckejoth's. diagte velees 168 | Cinquefoil ................ 317 
Canoe: s saKkateuen cenee eee 55 | Civilization ...9, 10, 105, 186, 296 
Can-opener ............... to | Cladophora ............... 34 
Caraway...... cece eee ee 247 | Clearing............. II, 18, 143 
Cardinal flowers ........ 210, 294 | Clematis (virgin’s bower).... 288 
Carnivores...... 39, 178, 181, 271 | Climate .................. 9 
Carnivorous.............. AT, AS | CHMDEES sewn iotetasamess 30 
Garpels: sieieatcxe ies steeds 19 | Climbing apparatus ........ 286 
Carpenter worms .......... 181 | Climbing hemp............ 286 
Carrots.......... 59, 60, 260, 266 | Cloth .................0.. 188 
Cascadilla .............04. Ay |) CIOtHeS: 3 seics yang hy tas HORS 2,10 
Castilla: sound aicin sedans 26 | Clothin@ a. cccencace sea ax 9,13 
Cate npc eihte Baris Bok are 109, 153 | Cloven hoofs ............ 53, 108, 


336 


PAGE 
Clovers..... 56, 235, 237, 238, 239 
Clover, white ss s0)s4:03 ses 253 
Clover, Hop sac tsssce grad dae 240 
COC + secon mses Bien seus ue Catenlans 188 
Cocklebur ............. 258, 259 
Cockle tititse sce siescaw ce 199, 294 
Cockroaches .............. 181 
Codling moth......... 17, 22, 304 
Coleoptera, co.cc keene os 40, 182 
Columbine ............ 207, 210 
COlWMbUS ceca cerca ws cans 244 
Combustion .............. 83 
Comminity 5 secu wee oa e's 122 
Competition ........ 25, 150, 265 
Competitors............ 197, 233 
Composites ............... 310 
COMPOSE ues otelociea wens 175 
Comstock, Mrs. J. H....172, 277 
COnteCHONS: c.g: te Bees oe 172 
Coniferous. cc ea nena es ea% oe 90 
Conifers «ae 2 sae rey au 81, 86, 164 
Conservation soil ....25, 175, 285 
Consumers ............... 39 
Containers: .4.n6s tenses comes 13 
Continuous occupancy...... 199 
Control of animals....... 47, 186 
Cooking siiec disses sais youn 81 
Coolers: tense dees se he oe ee 4 191 
Copper ex ina sen cet deamaise 3 10 
Coptotomus .............. 39 
Cordage ... .92, 156, 158, 161, 162 
Core EHS 5 os is decd oe a vias 19 
GCOnethr as. ine aur weceaeiann 43, 83 
Coriander ..asee ances aanes s 247 
GCOmxaly sen aes een sea ae es 39 
Com we nae cc csnydes gare 9, 186, 234 
Corn weather.............. 234 
Corner grocery ............ 265 
Corydalis cornuta. ......... 39 
Corylus americanus ........ 26 
COPECO x acerssacd, asa eae 159, 160 
Cottonwood............ 160, 177 
Country Pathway, A....... 296 
Course in sprouts .......... 144 
COVERE i5. soi han mia danse es mans 330 
COW vals aren cxneieca daca a Sete 35 
Cowslips ...........0.000- 292 
Crabapple................ 20 
Crab-grass ............000. 259 
Cranberries .......... 16, 17, 286 


NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


PAGE 
CraneMesy via cni sche 6 40, 183 
Crawfish. ..... 38, 46, 48, 292, 310 
Cx@le soe guccsoc: aerenis fitiece 8 & 33 
CECPETS? a2 sod arsed aie aee reais 35 
CTESSES 2 cack teosiate 2 246, 292, 294 
Crop plant’S:6 65 sae se send oes 
Crops: 26s 4 ange eG dies 14,25, ee 
Crop production ........... 233 
CrOssbillsis.. ox. ca ene a sesh X 67 
Crows....... 18, 22, 151, 303, ae 
Crucifers: 2. esis pb iew nes 246 
Crustaceans .............. 38 
CUckO0S a seisa rican geswnds 303 
Cucutbits: ssa sarssauseud on 286 
Cudweed (everlasting) ...... 299 
Culteidae ss ached jaias ces 40, 275 
Cultivated fruits .......... 18 
Cultural varieties .......... 47 
Culture: ci peeneaecaees ed 25 
Cup of hazel tea............ 144 
Currants: .4 esea4 eebes ees 16, 144 
Curtis; Dorothy... ..s5.24 442 46 
Cut BT AS8 sta a ies warts 38 309 
Cyanide bottle............. 218 
Cyclopedias of Horticulture 
and of Agriculture........ 14 
Cyperacee! 2 .cacccadwa ces 68 
CYPIESS: a.davciaee enue ea ot 183 
Daemon of the World....... 113 
IDAISY? ond ocaytt cd renss dante 55, 259, 264 
Damsel-fly, a..........0055 : 
Damseel-flies .............. 
Dandelions...... 55, 257) 258) a5 
Dayvadl wkcs vate dh auaveea nae 52 
DayinJune,A ............ 233 
Deciduous shrubs.......... 143 
Deciduous trees..........-. 71 
Decorative plantings ....... 123 
DGEPiesanccias deur 9, 98, 246, 274 
Deerflies .............000- 274 
Deer mice.......... 102, I5I, 162 
Delicacies .........2...005 16 
Dewberry ............005- 298 
DIA tOMS visi ausedee mae adn 34, 36, 41 
DUM gener deen ohne s atta 247 
Diptera.......... 40, 43, 183, ah. 
Disciplinarians ............ 
Dispersal ............. 55) 66, 68 
DiGretie ooo iissecn austen ao eae aes 244 


INDEX 


PAGE 
Diving beetle.............. 39 
Division of labor ........... 10 
Dobson larva.............. 39 
DOBSONS- aenamaied dhe eacue te 40 
DOCKS > occ gaan aa aeeaioe 59, 259 
DOG! see iyeauetacicce 104, 105, III 
DOgbaneiues va ceca tea dag 159 
Dogwood . .144, 146, 167, 204, 292 
Domesticated animals ...104, 105 
Domesticated fowls ........ 118 
Domesticated mammals. .104, III 
Domestication.......... 106, 110 
Dominant forms ........... 294 
Doorweed (goosegrass)...... 259 
DOVE: scsiratug oe emaearns 302 
Dragon-fly .............. 40, 42 
Dried berries .............. 18 
Drouthy. 235 055 areata bad ech etia 310 
DYWpeSi 2 ic aan Aah eine ds 19 
Ducks. ............0.4. 113, 117 
Dumping places ........... 32 
Dutchman’s breeches....... 210 
TI VtiSCus), 2g acount ate 39 
Earthworms. ...176, 178, 282, 309 
Echinocystis ..............- 288 
Biden cigs anda eaeee 121, 237 
Edible: waseeaeue meted S58 58 
Edible berries ............. 144 
Ediblenuts ............... 26 
Education ...... 12, 314, 326, 330 
EGGS hese me aymbyaurs dete wy enaay lag 118 
Elateride ................ I 182 
Elder, 

142, 144, 165, 204, 292, 299, 318 
Elderberry........... 18, 20, 144 
EME 5 caanenn's 6 aia Beeas BAS 98 

Elm, 


73) 74, 129, 155, 170, 177, 204, 329 


lm bate sco gas ee sl 24 aes 96 246 
Elodea (Anacharis)......... 35 
Engraver beetles........ 181, 182 
Envelopes ...............-- 14 
Ephemerida .............. 40 
Epidermis 25258 sa¢e<use5s 269 
‘Esthetic values . 100, 195, 210, 220 
Evergreens..............- go, 92 
Evolution........... 99, 221, aes 


337 
PaGE 
Faery Queen .............. 87 
HAS OLS oe sinh saxty tama ee 83, 85 
Fairyland.............. 165, 167 
Paity th@@: coc cannes eee ba 224 
Fall planting: vic. acca cnete 196 
False Solomon’s seal........ 62 
Famine cy gnedes oa wee eee 105 
LOTUS Sos eras sheath eas haga Se 81 
Farm crops......... 233, 268, 324 
Pater 2 oc cincuc senha we 112,126 
Farm landscapes. ...121, 223, 316 
Farm operations ........... 126 
Fatm:-stream ovs.c0 sees 32 
Farm woodlot ............. 77 
Father Raffeix............. 113 
Fathers of Old, Our......... 243 
Hats” sgoucv es gasae dew teas 24 
Fauna: Jovy epeeee sassy seed 47 
Feeding shelf .............. 152 
GSE ican Gow dadid anand despa 52 
Fences ............. 33, 127, 186 
Fence row17, 25, 146, 186, 189, 292 
Kerns: a yss ener ui deen 3 92, 205 
Fertilization. .. 26.04 600000% 214 
Fertilizers. 2.0.0. .0020 022 2ees 237 
Fiber products. .155, 158, 159, 160 
Pa el dS: 5. ace vst aw eee werent areaen 33 
Fighting: 4.424454 0wies 42,47 59 
Filberts. ss: se0 a0 ac3 Suse 25 148 
Palerss 4 sie lcon Goan oe A RS 292, 298 
Filtration plant............ I9I 
FinGhy oi2ccaonace<aege tats 67 
Pit@acpag auiece care x 81, 82, 196, 212 
Fire by friction ............ 
Firemiés. 2c u3a¢euceh ews exes 181 
Fire-making............... 83 
First Spring Day, the....... 168 
Fishes. .... 9, 32, 37, 38, 46, 47, 48 
Fish culture . 2.0 26.22 ees 47 
Fish: food. vss saseaner anne 37 
Fishing.c. cs va gevensausda 32, 46 
Fishing lines... .....2. 02463043 161 
BIA ORs cities cca ie Sed 16, 26, 68, 118 
Flavoring of foods .......... 247 
Plax? ae sas creas Lacant Bae tae nae 159 
Pleabane: 5 sei ce sce nese yes 294 
Bleshi.. ayieeude deny ogie sds wale 42 
Flint) sic uesdkies ah ee ae ed 10 
Floating liverwort.......... 36 
Floating riverweed ......... 35 


338 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


PAGE Pace 
HIGCKS: vb. ak Ae ease 96 | Geese ............. 113, 115, 117 
PlGOG, as ccass ¢-op-maredaaee es 34,35 | General Biology ........... 271 
Blood plain: pga aes sevelc ens 310 | Gentians............... 292, 294 
Flowering dogwood. .129, 196,226 | Gerard ................. 245, 248 
PIO WEES: pce isice se eN ped eens 264 | Gerardias ........ Shabana 264 
Flower visiting insects ...... 214 | Giant water-bug........... 39 
Fly-brushes ............... 278.) GAS: 24.6 win eens keene aun ypc 40, 41 
Ply larvee! os tcccscmescc meee TOG. | GINGED cies pwawewne ates ge was 247 
Fly repellants ............. 274 | Glow-worms .............. 183 
PLY time: ne 5 us een seta ale 274,278. || GOaticn cede vane eeu cn ee 52, 109 
Pola g6in's.25 seek oy eee ce als os 210 | Goldenrod, 
GOs. css ese ccisine ectune snes 32, 46 205, 262, 292, 294, 299, 310, 318 
Food habits ............... 41 | Goodfarming ............. 121 
Food reserve ........... 170, 233 | Gooseberry ......... 18, 144, 298 
Food Sticke occas ca ace ee eae es 152 | Gophers............. 98, 99, 316 
Footprints: i: «cise egos vs eds ss 150: | Goths 22s yevaieseueedalsnes 42 
Footage ys sen im nda ses ave 47; 389") (Gourds ¢2s05965-a828es40H2e4 2 285 
Foragecrops: ossiseseene% 2 127 | Graces of form and color.... 121 
FOTAGQELS) 5 i dos pst beeen ed 67) |) (Grants: 6.0 seus eda dune ees 68 
Forefathers ............... 168 | Grallatorial birds .......... 117 
Forest ............. 77,180,193 | Grandmothers ............ 247 
Forest cover. ...17, 24, 32,77, 205 | Gramineae ............... 68 
Fountains, the............. 143° | SGrasSic aod pir pa pgls swe aes 42, 52, 
Fowl meadow-grass ..... 309, 310 54, 68, 92, 246, 292, 302, 309 
FowlScx ute iessca een mages 106, 113 | Grapes .o.se:e2ceee05e450% 
BOXES. utscch teens HR Re EEE ES 98,99 | Grape vines ........... .170, a 5 
Fragrance........... 16,144,201 | Gravelly beds ............. 4I 
PRGOZ1Ge gc pn sahia we eul eatin 34) | Gravity. san amas cade eee 33 
Fresh air schools ........... 330 | Grazing ............ 18, 196, 212 
ETOPS. cewvaid cman Goueann aes 38 | Grazinganimals ........... 52 
Frontalsinus.............. 277 | Great bullrush............. 36 
FE TOSts: decks ae aad-pe ee 17, 24, 30 | Great Spirit .............. 9, 172 
Eiritites 3. oo cane ks Bed QO, 16,17, 27 | Greeks. yc. ces cadavaeiee ee: 108 
Fruit, poisonous ........... 243 | Green, Darius ....... SU gat bays 220 
TO hly: wo paisa cmdaeeg waves 17 | Green alge................ 34 
Fruit trees .............. 17,123 | Greenbrier................ 298 
Fuel values................ 84 | Green things growing... .195, 327 
Fuel woods............... 81, 86 | Ground beetles ......... 178, 181 
Fungus gnats.../....... 181, 183 | Ground cherries............ 17 
Fur bearers ............... 97 | Ground cover............ 92, 176 
PYGPS? so Suen et nig Aviad Guede Rniss 96,97 | Groundfloor ........ Pe Reet ir 287 
Bare tPade ivack ca-aiwia sangeet 96 | Groundnut ............... 60 

Ground water ............. I9I 

Gallsy gice verti cues awnan 304 | Grouse ........113, 116, 151, 316 
Gani: ney wen 4 oe 9, 46, 48, 96, I 13 Grove-qi+s cue shrek perenne d 327 
Gammarus ............... 38 | Guineafowl............... 117 
Garden ech seg iin Bae woateaaae GQ) GAS soo os ad, asa een wor daa 33 
Garden of scented herbs..... 249 
Gardener o.oo ees ba es 289 | Habitat. ox ccs cess dese aeas 41 
Garter snake .............. 316 | Hackberry................ 20 


PAGE 
Halictus ..............0.5. 215 
Hallowe’en ............... 24 
Hammock nest ............ 158 


Handbook of Nature-Stuy 14, $0 
Handbook of North American 


Indians sca veecreesniaes 163 
Hard woods ............... 82 
Harris, Joel Chandler ena ep Rist 299 
TAA WIE 3h Bae sae aacs hate ae Sins 118 
Hawkweed ............... 257 
Hawthorn. . .20, 56, 226, 246, 317 
Hay-rope ..............0.. 155 
aed oes eeccts sie dace 25,144, 292 
Hazelnut osc sce aa coe eee 26, - 
Headlands ................ 
Helianthus (sunflower)... .60, = 
Hellgrammite ............. 39 
FISMIPLETa 3 ase rane acne’ 40 
Hemlock. . 83, 86,91, 129, 167, 234 
DEA @ RTGS: Se escheat aeat hes, susvecks Searnpsiee's 159 
FLOM so udininmn marae ee oe nee 116 
Hepatica. . mehew He eee 208 209, 210 
Herbage .:........... 52, 69, 226 
Herbage scents ............ 247 
FOP Dal Sin cckteng wes hao oleh a8 244 
Herbivores........ 39, 41, 42, 181 
HOPS et Nre cite uettiy sana 96, 121 
Hiawatha’s Childhood ...... 150 
Hiawatha’s Sailing ......... 155 
Hibernation............. 66, 150 
Hibiscus........... 155, 159, 211 
Hickory ................ 24, 25, 

26, 73, 74, 76, as saecaa 
Highway Se ae die Saectl Seana eae 
Hobble-bush .............. oe 
Hodge, BF. Wi sca casas acccas 163 
Hog-peanut ............... 62 

ORS. aa anen tes 24, 47, 109, 274, a 

Holdfasts ee ee ee 287 

- Holland, J.G.............. 71 
FI OMES rani.t Bnew ance ae 10 
Home sites............. I9I, 302 
Homesteads ........... 123, 124 
PLONE Ys wel fe in ace sas aren as 238, 253 
Honey-bee................ 214 
Honeysuckles ..145, 158, 286, 289 
Hoofed mammals ........ 97,277 
TI GOS: ah sta: ccetas nd ty dines 53,54 
HOOKS: yainiidineaed Wiviaie ames 30 
Hop clovers .........0+.-+- 240 


339 

PAGE 

TODS # Sjessiecteets ses bi esas id 285, 288 
Horehound................ 247 
Hornbeam .............. 25,129 
Horse .106, 107, 108, 110, III, 277 
Horse chestnut ...........- 26 


Horse flies, 
39, 40, 274, 275, 276, 277, 278 


Horsefly larve............. 193 
HOTsehairs ccc sa aes eas 156 
Horse power............... 108 
Horse radish .............. 246 
House-flies............. 217, 278 
Householder .............. 195 
Howard, Ethel Barstow..... 224 
Human industry ........... 94 
FAGMus 42505 Sakon es aoe 177,178 
Hunt, Leigh............... 19I 
PLU CER oie... s, Paes 2 59, 97, 105 
Hunting dogs.............. III 
Huntsmen 225 os adacsaecdss 113 
Husbandman ............. 105 
Husbandry................ 10 
TA VDTG. oe sued aiseusedriaa eats aus 110 
Ice-coat ..... 0.2... eee eee 164 
Improvements ......... 123, 326 
Improved varieties ......... 25 
Indians, 

9, 10, 18, 24, 96, 97, 156, 168, ae 
Indian cucumber- root ...... 67 
Indian hemp: ..acee3 gees det 159 
Injuriousinsects ........... 303 
Mnsecticid 6 wie se-suncw aici says 270 
Insect larve............... 38 
INSCCUB 50.5 sent omens Se Gaeaneea 38, 303 
TSCA CES a ip wii din. gina eed Sg te 279 
Invention of spinning....... 156 
Invocation to rain.......... 307 
UTS sched aacce eel sete ee 293, 329 
TVOQUOIS! nc aanedos cece ae eos 16 
Jack-in-the-pulpit........ 61, 210 
PAM ats ater nud sag sew Rao Poe ee 18 
Jays wr.s genie ae sytense es 303 
JOOS 2 ccs aw da ke ses ain see 18 
Jewel-weed............ . 69, 293 
Jimson-weed .............. 259 
JOD Si cemahaetenke gat, eats 204 
MOSM cs epee yd gon stde thd taka ya shia 268 
Joe-pye-weed........... 293, 310 


340 

PaGE 
Judas tree: vay arenes wees 2 226 
JUICE. 4 sean seedies cree este 18 
SJRAMN CUS! ise 8s acca seed ene den fed 54, 292 
JUMEDERLY:. oie bcc a Se wel es 18, 197 
JMUID ERS: ccs stenosis eet gane gI 
JUGS Aces ccatans ada auhleins ies ge 159 
Kale) sie eaeaiey 8 sec tee pers 246 
Kerosene emulsion ......... 270 
IREPTIAS: osc sins. pi en eee odo 144 
Kindling material .......... 83 
Kip hing secs aoetuee cee ee vee 243 
mite? toes cine ube ean dotnenthale eas 13 
Knots .siscceencs OXs re eee 85 
Labels? eos Anse senieslg a eaten ee 14 
Lace wing fly........... 270, 271 
Lace workers .............. 289 
Tay itd | seis ie genes ghee 271 
Lady bird beetle larva ...... 270 
Lady’s slippers ............ 211 
Lamb’s quarters ........... 259 
Lampyride ............... 183 
Latid £0Wle i csvaaneas saan 113 
Landscape ............. 122, 124 
Lanier, Sidney.......... 186, 237 
Larch roots: 1 jin nac eens. aid ace 155 
Larcom, Lucy ............. 121 
Latve: fe. cs Sak sa santana nes 30 
Lavender se oisck sina iar oats 247, 249 
TEA Wi = i xia ck othe Aan ele edna 146 
Lead acetate ........2 2.0... 13 
eaktall six. 33 cciamne season 134 
Leaf hoppers .............. 305 
Leaf miners ..¢s25+ 01ers 40% 268 
Teat mold. icsvicn. ind nib oaeds 3 177 
Leaf mosaics .............. 287 
Leaf skeletonizers.......... 269 
Leatherwood joc secseona oars 155 
WeGChese ita: arginine oe aah 38 
Leersia (cut grass).......... 309 
IO RUMIES 6 sso dena ae dee sees 63 
Leguminos#............... 68 
Lemon verbena............ 247 
Ut) ck eee ee eee ae ee 13 
Lentils 228 votes aeeeeae ne 68 
Leptidee 3 aq pegee i ganende 40, 183 
Lepidoptera ............ 40, 182 
Lettuce. jean ed nguen ewaeadlaays 244 
Life of Inland Waters....... Ig 


NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


Lightning 2 csainaeccneadeas 81 
LAOS). ye. eas Ra ead woke tas 252 
TAMIA, yo sonia cd og aca aces Sateen 38 
Lincoln, Abraham.......... 187 
FAMED: (igi sais tes were ae es 160 
Linden ....26, 28, 73, 76, 162, 253 
Linden buds........-..-... 246 
TAterature-ccigegs akan cen 107 
Livestock .......... 37, 110, 127 
Eloy Jie Tsccsone. ne eosin eg wth 14 
Lobelia........ 200, 292, 294, 309 
LOgS pee ese vee wens ees 32, 180 
Lombardy poplar .......... 73 
Longfellow............. 150, 155 
LOMeCera) xs casas eae sana 145 
LOOM: 2 & carat @-anioaangaes aod os 157 
Loosestrife ............... 294 
Loss of blood ............-. 279 
LOGUS x es cesar aoa een 4 26 
TOWEL So sasac's Anarchy Saevonuae gras Jane 158 
DVDRESH sic. dt, olay Ab Mahe a ase 98 
Maizer ini eh ota ak caeetenun 10 
Magnolias! 200.6: cesac wars 253 
Mallow si. sieisccig ace eg a ones 250 259 
Mallow cheeses............ 246 
Mallow, round leaved ...... 245 
Mammals........... 58, 110, 303 
Mandrakes.............. 16, 209 
Manna grass .............. 293 
Manual of Botany, Gray’s... 14 
Manual for the Study of In- 
sects, Comstock’s ...... 14, 277 
Manual of. the Vertebrates, 
Jordan's weed ders keke sass 
Maple.......... 74, 129, 253, ee 
MEADIES SOLE. Sut a pusetun eine a 253 
Maplesap ................ 168 
Maple ee :.. 168 
Maple wax................ 177 
Marlatt: Gs Dn wns dey seams 270 
Marmion ................. 90 
Marshes ou cic conan canna aces 98 
Marshferns............ 292, 310 
Marshmallows.......... 159, 294 
Marsh marigolds........ 208, 210 
Marsupial ................ 99 
Mason, Otis T............. 156 
May apples ............... 244 


Mayflies.............. 40, 42,48 


INDEX 341 


PAGE 
Mayfly nymphs.......... 42, 193 
Meadow......... 32, 98, 188, 329 
Meadowmice....... 102, 292, 311 
Meadow rue............ 210, 294 
Meadowsweet ...... 264, 266, 292 
Meatsupply .............. 109 
Medeola ................. 61 
Medicago” svsehrreacyanes 239 
Medicines scsi tea .ces ensign 244 
Medicinal properties........ 68 
MCGICS) 2 sen ta ahs gee a acres 240 
Melilotus ................. 239 
Menispermum ............ 288 
Mental characteristics ...... 110 
ATCA Do ed Bhi ack etek aga 285 
MEGS ae oc are nas dea a one os 153, 187 
Midgelarve............... 193 
Midges's. Seeex gx ses 40, 42, 43, 48 
Midges, net veined ........ 38, 40 
MEK Ata Seah 5 aden Jay ates alae 286 
VEE seize sseee e deaetigsd sents peels 110 
Milkweed.............. 160, 161 
Millepedes............. 181, 282 
Mine Host ................ 302 
Wank aciois eb baiensned 97, 102, 312 
Minnows ..............--. 
MDG sec hacen evan seas 247, 248 
Mississippi Valley.......... 71 
Mixed crops.............-. 175 
Mockernut ............... 28 
Modern learning ........... 100 
Moisture loving............ 282 
Molds: waves ecgnstese fe 178 
Molé: suse, eeeede ny ae he 99, 102 
Molluscs ............... 38, 192 
Monkey flowers............. 000 
Moonseed.............--.. 288 
Moore, Emmeline.......... 34 
MOOSE: aitviene oe oxen pa ese 98 
Moosewood ............... 144 


Morning Glory .258, 259, 286, 318 
Mosquito .. . .39, 40, 193, 274, 275 


Mosquito, Toa,............ 275 
Mosses: scsi ger acends dees 33, 92 
Moss pink .......... 92, 209, 210 
Mother earth.............. g, 10 
Mountainash ........ 19, 20, 167 
Mountain laurel ........... 92 
Mountain sheep ........... 98 


Mouse, Toa.............. 96 


PAGE 
Mouse-ear ................ 317 
Moving water ...... 33, 137, 281 
Mowing ............ 18, I9I, 196 
MEG ooh 22 ch ernce sas anand we 33 
Mulberries ............... 16 
Mile? uveindyasan sere en oS 110 
Mullein............. 55, 259, 262 
Muloch, DinahM.......... 195 
Muscid flies ......000...... 40 
Muscoidea................ 40 
Mushrooms ............... 282 
Musk-mallow ............. 247 
Muskrat. o..cccccs eee ends 97, 151 
MUSSEL 2c satin Raton ed § 
Mustard............... 246, 259 
Mutual benefit ............ 278 
Mutual helpfulness......... 299 
Mutual pleasure ........... 107 
MEAL CS! i. ie. esd noasaievene dood ghd 53 
Mycetophilide ............ 186 
Myriophyllum ............ 35 
Nannyberry ......... 19, 20, 144 
INaTCISSUS 20c0 acinus Bede es 244 
NarCOtie: iccerg sen-ned di vacnaen 84 26 
Natural balance ........... 308 
Natural pruning ........... 166 
Natural selection........... 54 
Natural social functions..... 39 
Native crops .............. 9 
Nativemammals........... 97 
NAtUTG). cat omeit dao edesd II 
Nature’s method....... 176, 198 
Nature’s nursery........... 198 
Nature worship............ 172 
NGCtat a caieo ues aus 214, 238 
Nesbit, Wilbur D.......... 316 
Nesting boxes ............. 221 
Nesting sites .............. 22 
Nets ...... ee Sees 218 
IN GGG: sos 5 ahaa acne oeaae 159, 246 
Net veined midges ........ 38, 40 
Neuroptera ............... 40 
New England.............. 187 
New Jersey ...........-.-- 145 
New York oici.c<cse ae sone: 187 
Ninebark . .144, 146, 167, 196,.198 
North woods .............- 274 
Notebook ...........2..-- 13 
Noteworthy trees .......... 128 


342 

‘ PAGE 
INotonecta:n.iates, cas ata ee 39 
Novelties ............0.04- 123 
November ................ 66 
Noyes, Alice A............. 37 
NUPSERY ec ccsr ce dave ons 195, 198, 320 
NUTSETY POW. kaa cata aeons 197 
INUES fica decnajabaaven seeds 24, 30 
Nut bearing trees .......... 25 
Nut hatches............... 152 
Nut weevils ............... 26 
Nymphea ................ 35 
Nymphs: .24.g¢eciaensauies 40 

Oak, 
in 129, 167, 177, 183, 204,318 
“" Dlack: ss cyense pv aaras 4 257 
ci Fea So ea er 25 
MOSCEO) caual ad oun Sen es 28, 74, 253 
tO WHEt Cae da ate 9 NE ack 74 
AP WOOUS aise scvvenanan aoeaee ¥ 4 129 
Oats: sisi seg ataaeg gis vex aes 234 
Odonata, oi ices vavganex whee 40 
Gistrida 2 .schasns ea ses oo ot 277 
Offsets: iz cachagrater eae ahed & 199, 234 
QUIS os apuuesiarsunes Suraay eee Heck 68, 249 
Ovcopeltis: .c0c sensed wus 269 
ONION os j.centeeeues 59, 234, 244 
QOpPoOssuMt...ccccwcgasicaawses 97 
Orchard: o.os.3 503 ou oe vow 121, 135 
Orioles: ysiska ces aand 19, 158, 161 
Oriole’s nest............60. 157 
Orl AGS. oividarsonung ae med See 40 
Orl-fly larva...........24-- 39 
OFTIS-TOOE aicic sees ae raan 249 
Osier dogwoods......... 144, 167 
OEtCIS) cic ats Ge Ghia galls 312 
Outdoor auditorium ........ 331 
Out-of-doors .............. go 
Outlook: sn iou win tae Henan 9, 124 
OM es CLOW Rad Bulg traen Rie 106 
Ox Warbless. oh sdinnas anna ony 277 
ORV Oke: i554 scene hon Sed ere 106 
Oxybaphus................ 258 
OXYPeN. cage anand os aes oes 36 
Oyster shell scales.......... 304 
Packages: vases duc deaeds 24 
Panicled dogwood.......... 144 
Panicled white aster........ 200 
Paniculatia. . 3:25 esaexs 293, 309 


NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


PaGE 
Parasites ........... 39, 181, 271 
Parasitic plants.......... 39, 275 
Paris Sre@ta.ws..sceee5ees aa 269 
Paik fic sts ta cso Serer na ddigk dda 321 
Parsley <i sash pane: tac ooniclel ave 248 
Parsnips ................ 59, 60 
Partridge berry ............ 92 
PastureSiias 2g agsess 9, 12, 52,90 
Pasture plants........ 52, 53, 260 
Patnimony: a. see ahke edn es 67 
Pawpaw .........0 cece eae 155 
Pea-fowl ...........000005 117 
Pearl achille............... 200 
POASi cohen tach eens eas yee 195 
PeOCaMt «sx gas ea oe cae ae 25, 26 
Peck, Samuel M........... 66 
PONTIES Fs saisctrd ute Bernetoten Suice 96 
Pennyroyal ............ 247,249 
Pentstemon .............-- 266 
PEON Yaw ithe Se Sides ace ank bee 33 
PeppergrasS .sescsadeensnn 246 
Peppermint «. 05 e235 a3 247 309 
P6ppers: gc tea sag eenactees 246 
Perches) i.) ci eijcauins seth. doe Sy 48 
Perennials .......... 53, 234, 293 
Permanent crops........... 262 
Persimmons.............. 16, 17 
Personalinitiative.......... 126 
Pests: sare van ah aeutard a eral: 37 
PCtSe sc aquesy Sak vega oe RibelD 105 
Phantom midge larva....... 43 
Philotria (Elodea).......... 33 
Physostegia ............... 199 
PrCKerel 3 6 wal nae mince eee sa 48 
Pigeons............ 113, 114, 117 
PIGS. tae tubanore apt meres 58, 108, III 
Pig-nut hickory........... 25, 28 
Pig-weed ..........02-0055 259 
Pies! - ciciesus, dust tact gun bacuede ed 48 
PHUlDWgS:.2 so. saanuodees eRe es 282 
PINES. ssa cee noes’ 72, 184, 204 
Pine knots ............... 83, 86 
Pine Stumps. oii usekamres oo 90 
Pine woods....... as ea kale a 129 


Pioneers .9, 10, II, 66, 71, 186, 192 


Pistil case bearer........... 304 
Pit@htorks: 4 ste ae ee + 257, 308 
Pitch piney oxic iiasca dS eaeds go 
Planarians isos anges oh eer 0 193 


Planorbis ................. 38 


INDEX 


PAGE 
Plantains ............... 2 
Plant bugs .............. e ae 
Plant Abers wes o ese cee e ads 160 
Planting time........... 195, 260 
Plants scm cis es neato gree 52 
Plastering fibers ......... 161 
Playful capers .............. 110 
Pleasures of the palate...... 245 
Plecoptera ................ 40 
DING: haa: qdd capes seotae 6 248 
POW sie vesie es aS ee eee eek 32, 106 
PUM. eons qaciss aus Haas 16, 19 
Plum curculio ............ 17,22 
POCKEtS. 4 aac cana anew nae an 13 
POC Eee ge ore ay my Eee AOS 2 
POSO Mca tad SP wh nen 218, 269 


Poison ivy , 
|| 13, 22, 151, 189, 246, 269, oe 


Pole beans .......... 5.2.5. 285 
POllei cies cusaen ace aseneemcenes 294 
Pollen distribution ......... 253 
Pollen distributors ......... 216 
Polygonacee .............. 68 
POMES! access cevheihe oad we Be 19 
Pomology ...........2004- 19 
POOlSy4-gumea iacsecrues ton ties G 41 
Poplatisvccas ends dap ae sae 183 
Population.......... 67, 182, 192 
Porcupines.......... 17, 153, 169 
POPE f scscce seared eae Sunline wis 109 
POP#anNa .-242ccade cadens es 117 
Potamogeton ........... 4,35 
Potato ...10, 59, 60, 235, bee le 
Potato beetles ........--... 

Pot hunter ................ : 
POULT Y ik esac chek owas a Aad Bo 127 
Poultry husbandry ......... 118 
Power of flight............. 221 
Powers, Horatio H......... 214 
Prairié: Hen). 3665 gales salees 116 
PHAITES ios scons ne Gass 71, 114, 327 
Prepared bird skins......... 222 
Prickly ash............. 144,145 
Primitive folk ............. 244 
Primitive language ......... 110 
Products)... icss soactn pone 24. § 10, II 
Prong horn..... sherade haene 98 
Propagating .............. 18 
Propagation .............. 200 
Proteins: cas gaguad aes ae ee ag 24 


343 
PaGE 
PrOVISIONS: «cece a dese ewe 58 
PRUNES: 5am cw coweacaetene 244 
PTA Ess sens has sun Boater fares 167 
Sais ohh tee Mame ate NS 52 
Psephenus y24'¢ssece eee iens 38 
PUD gci.ce seercoest rae: Syctnare ee ears 19 
Pulse family............... 68 
PUMAS. x d.s cae oxi ee pee es 98 
PuUncturing.. sa ic cae ee cce an 269 
Punkies ............ 43, 274, 278 
Pure cultures.............. 47 
Puritans ican pebiens aE Seon eS 66 
Purselane: cian cacarveees 259 
Pyrochroide .............. 183 
Quadrupeds.............. 68, 97 
Quail cose cdaeca ee ods ae 113 
Quick growing crops........ 24 
Rabbit8s24 asccvusie wove 98, 150, 
153, 187, 188, 292, 299, 316 
Rabbit’s foot clover ........ 240 
Raccoon..... 97, 98, 100, 102, 182 
Radishes............ 60, 195, 246 
Ragweeds. ... 6. rete enon 262 
Raildentes ins ciate ee psa 188 
ARGS. ose cut dealagiaie ad huis ae eee: 113 
Rail splitters .4s¢:2232 ¥¢ 187, 188 
Railroads ances. gases ss aoe: 32 
FRAME cits tage sonst a tamed 33, 281 
Rainy season .............. 276 
Rapids ......... 33, 34, 35, 36, 41 
Raspberry. .16, 184, 297, 298, 317 
Rat hatcheries...........-. 328 
Rattans s..¢sstgacs aeaca es 286 
Recognition characters. 40, 41, 183 
REG COdAB 5.22 ple duaiiteoe va leds gI 
Red deer.........-...2-0-5 98 
Red man... .10, 11, 61, 62, 96, 143 
Red milk-weed bug......... 269 
Red Jacket................ 9 
Red osier dogwood ......... 146 
Red squirrel..............- 102 
Reference books ........... 14 
Refrigerators ............. I9I 
Reindeer. «6.6.20 ea eee ve 150 
Reservations ..........-. 97, 212 
RESIS bin. dares due ee YE NE 82 
Resources ..........00005- 22 
Reynolds, Sir Joshua....... 124 


344 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


PAGE PAGE 
Ricciocarpus «2 54552502023 36 | Scott, Walter .............. go 
Rich weed. vss veg sec se ccs os 328 | Scuds ........... _....38 42, 192 
Riffle-beetle .............. 38 | Seasons................. 16, 233 
Riley, James Whitcomb. . . 46, gue Sedges...... 68, 205, 292, 309, 310 
al oe 4 cae ach g-deats dud. a ae ee 33,328 | Seeds................ 10, 52, 197 
River weed)..oe wang oy ey: 34} Seed crop 2.24 ¢4¢20485 455 
OAS: ns nor ae e4 arte ax 127,146 | Seedlings ................. oe 
Roads, The Winding........ 316 | Seed ripening.............. 135 
Robbing the woods......... QUT | SEINE: hile rcucian wine ene inee 2 48 
Roberts, G.D.............. 165 | Selection........... 16, 25, 47, 34 
Robin. .19, 162, 168, 220, 302, 309 Self-fertilizing flowers....... 
Rock bass.............0 00. 48 | Self-inflicted vandalism ..... a 
Rodents 33.20 vead th opens 12 24 | Selkirk, James Brown....... 281 
Root crops sy se 5 sg eu s4eas 63,127 | Semi-aquatics ............. 308 
ROOCELS rs och. si c ano ereobeiu- 58) || WONECA: oe we duadene Sura ead 114 
ROOtS) g cxws on vk od alvn nua BA SQ: || (SEMSES na saavdialerwanad wa 76 
ROSES «aba. aaccdine eeu 286,317 | Sensitivefern.............. 292 
Roses, climbing............ 289 | Sensitive Plant, the......... 164 
Rose geraniums............ 247 | Sepedon ................... 43 
Rosemary. s:sicesegecesuer: 247 | Serial observations ......... 126 
Rossetti, Christina C....... 168 | Seton, Ernest Thompson .... 116 
Rotted logs ............... 86 | Sewing needle ............. 157 
Rubbing sticks ........... 81,88 | Sewing threads ............ 156 
RUD US) aise acs aon oh ener srosrtians 296 | Sexesin domestication ...... 106 
Ruffed grouse.............. 116 | Shadbush ................ 195 
Rule, metric-english........ 13 | Shakespeare .............. 252 
Rules for planting.......... 200° Shaler. .couscehees eyes 100, 104 
Running water ............ 282 | Sheep.............. 52, 108, III 
RYyOe sraaraatednesenaey de nes 235 | Sheepraising.............. 118 
Sheepshead ............... 48 
DARE ast bie Seauanaiane s 247,248 | Shellbark hickory .......... 28 
Saint John’s wort ....... 264,294 | Shelley................ 113, 164 
St. Lawrence .............. 168 | Shell fish.................. 46 
Salamander..... 38,178, 181,192 | Shells .................... 26 
Sama sis vagercewe cesses 4 P55. k Shelter’ oc ace ee aes ok amin eee 22, 48 
Sand 2¢ sacesedastaneaunte-aw hues a 33 | Shepherddogs ............ III 
Sap flow ........... 169, 171, 303 | Spherium................. 192 
SAP-PItS: an naces nana de 169, 303 | Shoals ...............0.. 41, 48 
Sap spouts ............. 143,171 | Shortcomings.............. 110 
Sapsuckers.......... 86, 160, 303 | Shorthorns ............... 47 
Sassafras ........ 76, 85, 186, 189 | Shrews 99, 102, 178, 188, 292, 311 
DAVARE ce ccna e oy hates 83, 87, ae Shrubs ..... 77, 143, 204, 226, 262 
Savory herbs .............. STANTS Boacieds 2g achaenaeh nara eaels 39 
SUMMER A oa lwed nine neaaess an NOI BTS 28 ri talg ten eaiend se sinecaece else 150 
Scale insects........ 268, 269, 304 | Silk... 0... eee eee 161 
Seatabeetdee sis cw senen dies 183 | SilverShow ............... 165 
Scavengers .............4. .39 | Simultide....... ay degucss 40, 276 
Scent bags ................ 249) || Sumuliuit a4 o.cacecne es eee 276 
DCIEPUS sco ase fe eae eveace days 26, 205) || MIZE esse due edd anes eae oun gag ans 18 


Scolytidg: .iccic seeds nav ve 182 | Skilfulrider............... 107 


INDEX 


PAGE 
SHINS: necneseean eaeeuNs 9,97 
Skullcap .......... 293, 299, 309 
Skule... ices aia 97, 98, 102, oa 
Skunk cabbage ............ 
SEVIS! 5 ss vase, ays wed ag aes I 2 
Slaughter vacs.ué.ce aune aes 99 
Slime-molds .............. 282 
SLUGS. aaienerend ane oma. 282 
Small traits. ..2csceaecdass 19 
Smith, Albert W........... 58 
Smith, Miss Cora A........ 275 
SiailS) : Gers Maier s seeds ey ore 178 
SHIPS so4 th Fh Na ache pate aA 113 
MIPCHY. sed antie Gane war west Gaels 40 
Snipe-fly larve ............ 182 
Snowberry ................ 144 
Snowbirds ................ I51 
Snow Bound .............. 81 
Snowdrops ............... 195 
Snow Coat of the trees...... 167 
Social habits*.............. 10 
Softidrinki asc. ca cue es ceaw 169 
Soft maple ................ 73 
DOU naa eawanenene dees 9, 127 
Soil conserving ............ 175 
Soil management........... 176 
Soil Mixing. 2:3 ¢eseue se3 a4 175 
SO MOISEUTE: cg. so Saws 292 
Solanums ............... 63, 270 
Soldier Ay. 22.2ccecs ae eanes 40 
Song birds. 146, 220, 292, 302, 313 
DOM Tall oi bie e desea ees ex 117 
Sorrels! 2 c¢caGmuees Ge Pees 246 
Sow bugs ...............-. 181 
Spanish moss.............. 
Spanish needles......... 293, 308 
Spanish proverb ........... 257 
Sparcaniam’ 4 454 sea sy ee x 36 
Sparrows .............. 152, 302 
Spatterdock.............. 35, 62 
Spearmint ............. 247, 309 
Speckled alder............. 220 
Speedwells................ 55 
Spenser o2.cavneeis devas 77 
Spice bush .......... 20, 143, ae 
SPIdGtS) 24 selec SHA Sa A elie 178 
Spindle andloom........... 157 
Spinning....... 155, 156, 160, 161 
SPITHAS gs ey eherscaa ke eres 144 


SPINte? ave me tee eiiewae 83 


345 
PAGE 
SPONGES: acacia navuens oa ees 38 
Spreading dogwood......... 167 
Springs........ 9, 32, 71, 168, 191 
Spring brook .............. 191 
Spring flowers .......... 208, 264 
Spring house .............. IQI 
Spring poleand snare....... 101 
SPIUcCe:: <s4 sans s 90, 167, 225, 234 
SPULLO- kick wantin aed ota 259 
Squash, suse i eoucnla wes. gis 10 
Squirrels..... 24, 99, 150, 169, 317 
Squirrel corn ....... 205, 210, 234 
Stable-flies ............... 278 
Stagnant: sj. cnacw we aaa 4I 
Stamp weed............... 159 
Staple crops......... 46, 233, a 
SECON sce achincg Jato malian te Pyecse 
Stem borers............ wey 268 
Still watersi. eins acinnwaraes 41 
SING. eae sein tee ae weet 216 
Stockades: x: .<mseeceseee8s 186 
Stock pens .......... 71, 186, 210 
Stonefence................ 187 
Stoney Saccs se acer pdees 40, 42 
Stonefritits 23s. 4c8k i se eicin 19 
Storehouse ............... 32 
Strainers.............0..4. 37 
Stratification of crowns ..... 78 
Stratiomyiide ............. 40 
Strawberries ......... 16, 17, 244 
Stream ......... 32, 33,39, 42, 46 
Stream map,a............. 
String. v8. Secg tae oS eho 155, 156 
Strip of Blue,a ............ 121 
Struggle for existence, 
adbiei oS dautets eee II, 197, 198, aed 
Stuffing DCIS usu ce seven ven 
Stump fence. .caces densa nes I ae 
SlUPIGIGY wai wicd oe Wes ne Cae Bs 262 
Subcutaneous muscles ...... 278 
Submerged meadows ....... 33 
Succession of bloom ........ 201 
DUCKEE ne ean BGae si dott 48, 49 
Sugar beets .............. ; 172 
Sugar bush................ 
Sugarcamp ............... 172 
Sugarcane................ 172 
Sugarindustry............. 168 
Sugar maple............. 73,225 
Sugar of lead .............. 13 


346 
PAGE 
Sugat trees vi esak scewasesa: 143 
SUMACH osiGuiei se hes Se 28 18, 143, 
144, 159, 165, 167, 189, 225 
Summer savory............ 247 
Sun and shade....... 17, 200, 206 
Suimfishes: sou wer asec ecw ees 47 
Sunflowers .............. 60, 264 
Swale ......... 116, 291, 292, 310 
Swalefy.. wicwccescaes teen 43 
Swamps .............06. 98, 327 
Swamp azalea ............. 144 
Swamp lilies.............., 294 
Swamp milkweed ...159, 293, 310 
SWANS sae eceaes cea waaes 113, 115 
Sweet birch ............. 76, 116 
Sweetbrier .............06- 248 
Sweet clovers.............. 240 
Sweet fern ......... 201, 247, 250 
Sweet flag........... 61, 247, 293 
Sweet majoram............ 247 
Sweet pea...........0-00 0 286 
Swimming .............-6, 312 
Swimming holes ........... 312 
SWItCheSs: 204 ew ssa ses waned 143 
Sycamore... .72, 74, 129, 253, 329 
Sylvan picture............. 332 
Sympathy vas siecesiessuaes IIO 
Syrphidé g24 56s cas wdeawnes 40 
Syrphus fly...... 40, 216, 270, 271 
Tabanide . 2... ..ces ees 40, 277 
Tabb; JOHi-Bisins ioe ied anes 6 172 
Table Ashes 2c ee sews paces 47 
Tadpoles: se. tucson oats 38, 307 
Tamarack: -¢ saynau gear ts 155, 225 
Tame animals ...........-- 100 
TPATIDAM: asc: sa: oo say es oO 8 OE 177 
Tapp swe ses aaas seater kee 171 
FRAT ON coaiipeaate, aacbae 3. poe suk bo 61 
Lea ewikintnghn i ne wnes ye Caw Ras 248 
“Peasel ss ais agin pata wean 55, 317 
Telephone ...........00005 82 
TendrilS gic can angeeee nets 287 
"TONnySON ey ccuke ducer seas 220 
Tent caterpillar............ 304 
MextileS: gc pq0d anes asa e 96, 160 
Textile art: ox nena ga sik ewes 157 
Textile products ........... 159 
Thanksgiving ............. 66 
THE CtSe ac aeecats atte bento 17 


NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


PAGE 
Thistle: ancwewx< 55, 160, 257, 259 
Thompson, Maurice........ 291 
FRTGEIS ost tes areca ashue od aeisd a 12 
PEPUGH S « waite ph avai 4k ka 302 
DAY Me ec arcay anaeenees: 247, 248 
Tillage ....10, 32, 58, 71, 143, 175 
Pimber saseeeny wn nes ganes 9, 32 
Timber crops.............. 127 
TAMOth ye ciic.¥d deine we dsunked 55 
PipuUlidees:.one2oc aanaawes 40, 183 
OD ATC i icasconine tem entice eeu ah 84 
Topography......... 14, 137,176 
ToOlS ss 144.4 sexes oxy 2 9, 13, 30, 86 
Touch-me-not...........-. 67 
PP OW veciesiats: gp eget ane. duns Hen ieps 159, 161 
ATACKS: i, caked anwgas ves I5I, 309 
Traditions ............ 9, 68, 244 
VPraped ys ve ssatecacmaaceasean ae 150 
Trained horse ...........-- 107 
Trampling saiyous cas os nas 54, 197 
Transportation ....’...32, 53, 212 
TAP PWS is asec decid susie eee nt 100 
SETADS neces hisle suey talhardeha ct 48 
Treadmill 2cc-yc5 acetaqe sca 106 
Tree LOPmis 0 scaaqecccwan ee 72 
Trees..... 24, 52, 71, 135, 180, 253 
“Tree Sap: s is i'seaey terion de 170 
Taam desis cy. gud bncssicd ne eave so 40 
Prifolui eas vce esce asec 240, 253 
Terai so salsa here 205, 207, 208 
SREOUtS*. «sii doe ceed ap ase See 48 
Trumpet vine .......... 286, 287 
TUDELS. silts gue wile Hae ais 60 
Pubifex. ch ie dosed eee 193 
Tulip tree........ 74, 76, 129, 253 
SERINE gars rsancont aise a Sonavarene eee 53 
Turkey ...... aecueea 114, 117 
Turkey gnats.............. 37 
TIM PS? eses Gove ntcas tans 60 
PURSPIE 2s bedi yan ewene 106 
Turtle: seccaviyasign wes ones 38 
Turtleheads........ 266, 284, 309 
Tussock sedges ......... 292, 309 
Tuttle, Olive N............ 238 
Twig pruners.............. 30 
(DWANETS: «note tiene hawides 287, 288 
TWineS : ogand rs ea teree ewes 156 
PY Piacoa rear thas sande 36 


INDEX 


PAGE 
Umbelworts .............. 247 
Uncle Remus.............. 299 
Undergrowth ............. 205 
Upholstering fibers......... 161 
WPCA: tc talnat een gne oan 159 
Useful birds ............... 19 
Valerian neon ca seransegeaes “246 
Vandals! noc. cess sdareeseees 42 
VATICHES a ecacscd ng ude ewer dae 18 
Vegetable flavorings........ 246 
Vegetation ............... 38 
Vegetative offshoots........ 294 
Vermin aces ous duce ng wets 187 
VTi SO. iiss desicis Sasbeers Sadao 277 
Virburnum.......... 19, 143; re 
Views of thefarm .......... 
Vigilance: a cove Piss eeme% me 
Vines, 

13, 17, 187, 189, 201, 226, 285, 329 
Vineyards........-.....0.. 285 
VAGICE: so. oats 208, 209, 210, 211 
Virginia creeper..... 286, 287, 317 
Virgin’s bower...... 286, 317, 318 
Vistas: ca sdu s¢ eer de deers 124 
VOICES es o.isgatie: syune ens Bactoe be 109 
Walking-sticks ............ 143 
Walnut............ 24, 25, 26, 76 
Wanton slaughter.......... 97 
Weare. uilsawe scams tirwe eds 108 
Washington, George........ 128. 
Washington Elm........... 128 
Waste land.............. II, 291 
Water beetles.............. 40 
Water boatman............ 39 
Water bugs ............... 40 
Watercress ..............- 192 
Waterfalls ................ 36 
Waterfowl ......... 113, 115, 117 
Water garden.............. 47 
Water hemlock ............ 60 
Water horn wort........... 35 
Water milfoil.............. 35 
Water mint ............ 249, 307 
Water moths.............. 40 
Water shamrock ........... 329 
Water shield .............. 35 
Water skaters ............. 307 


Water world.............. 39, 46 


347 

PaGE 
Waxwings ............... 19, 22 
WeapOR acs ieeacs scans ws hs 10, 71 
Weasels ................ 98, 102 
Weather................. 12, 13 
Weedsiins cess sas 53, 147, 262, 296 
Westwood, Thomas ........ 302 
Whirling bob.............. 157 
White birch ............. 72,225 
White clover .............. 55 
White grubs............ 181, 183 
White man................ 9,97 . 
White Oak....... een ee: 28, 220 
White pine. .90, 129, 187, 226, 318 
White water lily ........... 35 
Whitman, Walt............ 175 
Whittier, t, Gis on Les 81 
Wild animals . . . 100, 105, 150, 188 
Wildapples ............... 17 
Wild beasts ............... 186 
Wild boats casein soveeaays IIo 
Wild carrot; o« accuses as aise 167 
Wild Cherry.........:..... 20 
Wild choke-cherry ......... 19 
Wild currant .............. 184 
Wild ducks................ 105 
Wild fishes ................ 47 
Wild flower preserve........ 327 
Wild fowls ......... 112, 115, 152 
Wild fruits ......... 16, 17, 20, 22 
Wild ginger ............ 209, 211 
Wild grape...... 20, 189, 286, 287 
Wildlife ss. aise ss war he eag tre oes 326 
Wildmammals .......... 96, 100 
Wild nuts................ 24, 29 
Wild perennials............ 200 
Wild pigeon ............ 113, 114 
Wild rice cigs, ger e sade a 68, 113 
Wild roots: s si sesaseeaa ees 4 59 
Wildrose .............. 144, 299 
Wild strawberry ........... 92 
Wild things ...... II, 12, 300, 319 
Wild turkey .............. 1I5 
Wildwoodio, 16, 122, 195) 2 201, 327 
Willis, Nathaniel Parker ....| 208 
Willow, 


73, 135, 165, 183, 226, aay 329 


Willow herb............ 284, 308 
Willow rods ............... 143 
Wilden aeacsaeeetane eae 24 
Winding roads............. 316 


348 

PaGE 
Window garden............ 247 
Wind sown seed............ 184 
WANE 3.3 wig e tek Cate de 285 
Winter iacwratoesahanennee 71 
Winter activities........... 249 
Winterberry............... 144 
Winter colors.............. 201 
Winter conditions.......... 134 
Winter feeding............. 152 
Wintergreen............. 92, 249 
Winter verdure ............ 90 
Wire: rack. c.ai yaa ax ye anes 87 
Wire) Cush sas eas cr wee aes 4 
Wire worms............ 181, 182 
Witch hazel .67, 144, 146, 167, 197 
Wolverine ................ 97 
W OV OS tie scp. itens eatin gederee 98 
Womankind .............. 87 
WO0d end ye takes on is 52,144 
Woodbine........... 13, 189, 286 
Wood borers .............. 181 


Woodchuck .96, 100, 102, 150, 299 


NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 


PAGE 
Woodeotk 3. casescr eae 113 
Woodcraft ............7..9, 151 
Wood crop...........-.055 212 
Wood grasses...........--. 205 
Woodlands ............... 121 
Woodlot ........ 77, 86, 123, 212 
Woodpeckers....... 152, 182, 302 
Woodsmen....... 71, 84, 145, 151 
Woody climbers ........... 287 
WoOGle cite staan eee Ben 108, 160 
Wordsworth, William... .123, 264 
Worms: : farce deee chee oxe = 26 
Wormseed sie cess ies vex 209 
WHENS wicca ete ee ante aahs 302 
NATIOW. 24 cscdwilane duals on 55,259 
Yellow birch ...... 83, 84, 86, 183 
WOW sie neg whch eats wie ea ene = ee gI 
VWewberry’ ces een ae sos wee 20 
Yucca ss acygsdecrsde ss 156, 157 
Zoological parks ........... 98 


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