-<,:,;::••:. HI570
OF THE FARM

i to mm «ni$!!ii iina^^

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 STUDV
IN CORNELL UNIVERSITY.

ITHACA, N. Y.

THE COMSTOCK PUBLISHING COMPANY
1916

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. R. BAILEY.

COPYRIGHT, 1914

BY THE
COMSTOCK PUBLISHING 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, then as now. 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. To see, 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 are most typical,
or that best illustrate field-work methods. There may be
enough work in some of them for more than a single field trip :

346507

9 * 1 » •» ? "•»» V 1 O "" * B ••»

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 means of 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 cooperation 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

Preface .
Contents

.page 5

16
24
32
46

22
30

42

48

PART I. STUDIES FOR THE FALL TERM:
October-January

1. Mother Earth page 9 with Study I on page 15

2. The wild fruits of the farm

3. The wild nuts of the farm

4. The farm stream

5. The fishes of the farm stream

6. Pasture plants

7. The wild roots of the farm

8. The November seed-crop

9. The deciduous trees in winter ...

10. The farm wood lot

1 1 . The fuel woods of the farm

12. Winter verdure of the farm

13. The wild mammals of the farm . .

14. The domesticated mammals ....

15. The fowls of the farm

16. Farm landscapes

66

71

II

go

96

105

H3

121

2

3
4

I

8

9
10
ii

12
13
14
15

16

70
76

79

86

92

100

in

119

124

Individual exercises for the Fall Term (Optionals)

1. A student's record of farm operations page 126

2. Noteworthy views of the farm 128

3. Noteworthy trees of the farm 128

4. Autumnal coloration and leaf fall " 132

5. A calendar of seed dispersal " 133

PART II. STUDIES FOR THE SPRING TERM:
February-May.

17. The lay of the land

1 8. The deciduous shrubs of the farm

19. Winter activities of wild animals . .

20. Fiber products of the farm

21. A coating of ice

22. Maple sap and sugar

23. Nature's soil conserving operations

24. The passing of the trees

25. The fence row

26. A spring brook

page 137 , with study 1 7 on page 141

* T A 1 " " V Q *• V * *»

H3
150
155
164

168

175
1 80
1 86
191

18
19

20
21
22
23

24
25
26

H7
154
162

1 66
172
179
148
190
193

8

NATURAL HISTORY OP THE FARM

37. Nature's offerings for spring planting p. 195 with study 27 on page 202

28. A cut-over wood-land thicket .... "205 28 ' 207

29. Wild spring flowers of the farm ... "208 ' 29 '212

30. What goes on in the apple blossoms "213 30 '216

31. The song birds of the farm "219 31 ' 221

32. The early summer landscape "223 ' 32 ' 226

Individual Exercises for the Spring Term (Optionals)

6. A calendar of bird return page 228

7. A calendar of spring growth " 229

8. A calendar of spring flowers " 229

9. Noteworthy wild flower beds of the farm " 230

10. Noteworthy flowering shrubs of the farm " 230

PART III. STUDIES FOR THE SUMMER TERM:
June-October.

33. The progress of the season page 233, with Study 33 on page 236

34. The clovers ' 237 34 241

35. Wild aromatic herbs of the farm. .. 243 35 250

36. The trees in summer 252 36 254

37. Weeds of the field 257 37 263

38. Summer wild flowers 264 38 267

39. Some insects at work on farm crops 268 39 272

40. Insects molesting farm animals . . 274 40 279

41. Out in the rain 281 41 283

42. The vines of the farm 285 42 290

43. The swale 291 43 295

44. The brambles of the farm 296 44 300

45. The population of an old apple tree 302 45 306

46. The little brook gone dry 307 46 311

47. Swimming holes 312 47 315

48. Winding roads 316 48 319

Individual Exercises for the Summer Term (Optionals)

1 1. A grass calendar page 321

12. A calendar of summer wild flowers ' 322

13. A calendar of bird nesting 323

14. Best crops of the farm " 324

15. A corn record " 325

Outdoor Equipment page 326

Index 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 beiver. 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."

— F-om 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 the time !), 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 ancestors 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
of labor 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 11

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

"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 for the 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
of them. If any one would share in 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 place to begin is near home . 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 : The regular 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: All weather is good
weather to a 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

FIG. 1. Metric and
English linear measure.

MOTHER EARTH

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. i). 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 roots on trees and fences,
or creeping over the ground.

Its compound leaves resemble FIG. 2. Poison ivy.

those of the woodbine, but

there are five leaflets in the woodbine, and but three in
poison ivy. 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 as soon 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

14 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 or a 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 nature and not from 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 15

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 ugon 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

41 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 us from the hand of nature. A few have
been considerably improved by selection and care. But none
of them has been altered in its 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 enemies also,
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 the fence-row, where birds have perched and have
dropped seeds from ripe fruit they have eaten. They are a
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 soiir, 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

1 8 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 and cultivated 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
in the winter when better fruits
are scarce, so the Indians boiled
them to make a winter beverage.
The cultivated fruits are but a

PIG. 3. The wild Gooseberry. few of thosethat 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 is a 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

WILD FRUITS OF FARM

FIG. 4. Diagrams of

apex of the apple, closed pome fruit, (a), and

stone fruit, (&).

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

the base of the calyx. The calyx lobes

persist at the

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 retain a good population of useful birds,

than a plentiful supply of wild
fruits through the summer
season. Who that has seen
orioles pecking wild straw-

ttC^/ //>/ berries or robins gormandizing

on buffalo-berries or waxwings

PIG. 5. Wild chokecherry (Prunussp?) ^4.'^ • , .*4.~:~ «,VU

and nannyberry (Viburnum lentago). Stripping a mountain aSH, Can

20

EDIBLE WILD FRUITS

NAME

1

Kind of Plant1 Type of Fruit*

No.
Seeds

Cluster of Fruits

Size*

1. Crab Apple

2. Hawthorn

3. Mountain Ash

4. Wild Cherry

5. Chokecherry

6. Nannyberry

7. Spicebush

8. Hackberry

9. Wild Grape

10. Elderberry

11. Barberry

12. Yewbeny

13.

14.

, shrub, vine, etc. 2Pome, drupe, berry, etc.
Dimensions in millimeters.

'Diagram.

OF THE FARM

21

Proportion of
Pulp

Used for What5

Taste

Animals
eating it6

Remarks

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

22

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

doubt it ? 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-
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
21. The fruits named in the first
column are those commonly found
about Ithaca- N- Y- in autumn.
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, or any
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 (i) 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 i in line 3 in that
column; if tree No. 4 be the worst flavored (of 6 trees), write 6
in line 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.

III. 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 and most sanitary of containers, are the nuts. Rich in
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. They are long-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.
Here and there a valued chestnut or walnut tree is allowed to

24

NUTS OF THE FARM

FIG. 7. The pig-nut hickory (Hickoria glabra) ; the whole nut, a cross section of
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
tionsGof8tw<?ty?efof enclosing the smooth but compact seed.
nuts in their hulls: (a) Certain other members of the oak family, as
the hornbeams, produce nuts that are too
small to be worthy of our consideration as

hull.

26

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

FIG. 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 larvae of the
nut-weevils. These are snout-beetles

Fig. 10. Leaf outline ,.

and nutlets of the linden, 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

FIG. 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; / 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 i

Height
in feet2

LEAVES

Form3

Size4

Margin9

Shellbark Hickory

Pignut

Bitternut

Butternut

Walnut

Chestnut

Beechnut

Hazelnut

White Oak

Chestnut Oak

Red Oak

Linden

Buckeye

Tree, shrub, or herb. 2Full, approximate. 3 Diagram.

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

WILD NUTS AND ACORNS.

NUTS: Character of

Hulls

Shells

Kernel

Animals
eating it8

Quality*

b 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 larvae 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 larvae, 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
larvae '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 than a
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 this study
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 29, 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) A linden 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 as the 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 tliem 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 sub j ect 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
down upon 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 is brown, not green. Its dominant
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 algae 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 stones in

FIG. 12. Spray of riverweed (Potamogeton crispus).
From a drawing by Miss Emmeline Moore.

THE FARM STREAM

35

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 algae 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 1 3 ) grow wholly submerged. A few grow
rooted to the bottom, but have broad
leaves (Fig. 14) that rest upon the surface.
A few small plants (Fig. 15) float free upon the surf ace in the
more sheltered openings. And there are many rooted in the

FIG. 13. Leaf-form
in three common sub-

FIG. 14. Outlines of four common kinds of floating leaves: a, the floating river-
weed (Potamogeton natans) ; b, the spatter-dock (Nymphcea advena) ; c, the white water-
lily (Castaillia odorata); d, the water shield (Brasenia peltata).

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

FIG. 15. Floating plants: a, duckweeds;
b, the floating liverwort (Ricciocarpus nalans).

mud at the bottom, that
stand erect and emer-
gent with their tops
above the water. A
few of the more strik-
ing and characteristic
of these are shown in Figure 16. Algae 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

means of which they may
change location. The

FIG. 16. Aquatics that rise from standing
water: a, the great bullrush (Scirpus lacustris) ;
b, the sweet flag (Acorus calamus) ; c, the bur-
reed (Sparganium eurycarpum) ; d, the cat- tail
(Typha latifolio).

THE FARM STREAM 37

thread is exuded at the mouth (as a
liquid which hardens on contact with the
water), attached to the stone and spun
out to the desired length. The larva, with
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 surf ace
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 live stock. 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,
transparent, funnel-shaped net, half an
PIG is Diagram of a inch wide, opening always upstream,
°f to and tapering downward into a silken
tube, lodged in some sheltering crevice,
in which the greenish, gill-bearing
caddis-worm that makes it dwells.

Then there is a group of diverse in-
sect larvae found habitually in the
rapids clinging to stones, that agree
in being flattened and more or less

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.

In still water the deep pools are the
sPecial home of the larger fishes. We shall
fTa td WraifHe:- beetle retum to them in the next study. In the

FIG. 19. Two

I snoaler parts and in the midst of the aquatic
midge (Bie- vegetation are the lesser fishes and 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 contaiiis brief hints, also, of the situation
they occupy in the water and the role they play in the food
consumption.

There are leeches, and fresh-water sponges and bryozoans,
and a host of lesser forms of many groups, mostly too small to

CRUS TJC£ A1VS

FIG. 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;
(Limncea, 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

US and manV more (Notonecta); b, the water-boatman (Corixa); c, a diving-

FIG. 21. Adult aquatic insects: a, the back-swimmer

b, the water-boatman (Corixa); c, a
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, and a
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-
a 1 1 y examines the
animal life of the
stream is apt to see
chiefly carnivorous
forms; for these are
most i n evidence :

FIG. 22. Aquatic insect larvae: .a, a diving-beetle, and. Jiere, aS ClSe-
Coptotomus (after Helen Williamson Lyman); b, a -i -i i_ •

dobson larva, or hellgrammite, Corydalis cornuta (after Wnere, Jtiei DIVOreS,

Lintner); c, an orl-fly larva, Sialis (after Maude H. u •• i

Anthony). D 6 1 n g pOOrly

40 Recognition characters of some of the commoner

Single distinctive character:

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
Damsel-flies

Dragon-flies

Ephemerida
Odonata

Odonata

elongate, variable
slender, tapering rear-
ward
stout, variable

3, long: (rarely 2)
see gills

very short, spinelike

Water-bugs

Hemiptera

short, stout, very like
adults

variable

2. Forms in which the immature stages differ very greatly from the adults
internally and not visible from the outside, and having the legs shorter, nidi-

COMMON NAME

ORDER

LEGS

GILLS

Water-moths

Lepidoptera

3 pairs of minute
jointed legs followed

of numerous soft white
filaments, or entirely

by a number of pairs
of fleshy prolegs

wanting

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
Net-veined midges

Tipulidae
Blepharoceridae

retracted and invisible
tapering into body

a respiratory disc bord-
ered with fleshy ap-
pendages
wanting

Mosquitoes
Black-flies

Culicidae
Simuliidae

free
free

with swimming fin of
fringed hairs
with caudal ventral
attachment disk

True midges

Chironomidae

free

tufts of hairs

Soldier-flies
Horse-flies

Stratiomyiidae
Tabanidae

small, free
acutely tapering

floating hairs
tapering body

Snipe-flies
Syrphus- flies
Muscid flies

Leptidae
Syrphidae
Muscoidea

tapering, retractile
minute
rudimentary

with two short taper-
ing tails
extensile process as
long as the body
truncated

forms of aquatic insects in their immature stages. 41

are printed in italics.

are not remarkably different from the adults. The wings develop externally

GILLS

OTHER PECULIARITIES

HABITAT

POOD-HABITS

many minute, around

rapids

mainly carnivorous

bases of the legs
7 pairs on back

all waters

mainly herbivorous

3 leaflike caudal gill-
plates
internal gill chamber
at end of body

wanting

immense grasping lower
lip
immense grasping lower
lip
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 END OF BODY

OTHER PECULIARITIES

HABITAT

POOD HABITS

a pair of fleshy pro-

still waters

herbivorous

legs with numerous
claws on them

do., with paired larger
hooks at tip
a long tapering tail

mostly living in port-
able cases

all waters
gravelly beds

mostly herbivorous
carnivorous

paired hooked claws

all waters

carnivorous

variable

slow or stagnant waters

carnivorous

see next table

head small, often ap-
parently wanting

all waters

see next table

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

FLESHY LEGS, OR PRO-
LEGS

OTHER PECULIARITIES

HABITAT

FOOD HABITS

shoals

herbivorous mostly

wanting

flat lobed body with

rocks in falls

diatoms, etc.

row of ventral suckers

wanting

swollen thoracic seg-

pools (at surface)

herbivorous

^*

ments

one beneath the mouth

"fans" on head for

rocks in rapids

herbivorous

food-gathering

/ in front, 2 at rear

live mostly in soft

all waters

herbivorous

end of body

tubes

wanting

depressed form

still water (at surface)

herbivorous

wanting

tubercle covered spin-

beds in pools

carnivorous

dle-shaped body

stout paired beneath

rapids under stones

carnivorous

wanting

shallow pools

usually wanting

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

stone-fly

d, a ma

equipped for fighting, cannot afford to
be conspicuous. But if 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 'All flesh is grass' ' (Coues).
The most widespread, abundant,
andimportantof the herbivores of the
stream are apt to be the scuds (Fig.
amphion); c a 2O) the may-fly nymphs (Fig. 23,6?),

(Acroneuna sp?); J J J

-fly (Caiubatis sp?). and the larvas of midges (Fig. 24,^).

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

43

FIG. 24. The larvae of four two-winged
flies (Diplera): a, the swale-fly (Sepedori),
withdrawing beneath the surface film of the
water; b, the punkie (Ceratopogon); c, the
phantom midge larva (Cor'ethra) ; and d, the
common midge (Chironomus).

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

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:

1 . Waterfalls and riffles.

2. The extent of each sort of bottom.

3 . The principal plant beds .

4. The fish pools.

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).
Growswhere (thatis, in which of the situations examined) .
* Depth of vvater (approximate).

Growth-habit (simple or 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 neede'd).
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.

V. THE FISHES OF THE FARM STREAM

" To dangle your legs where the fishing is good
Can't you arrange to come down?'1

— 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

rtifiti

FIG. 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

FIG. 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, for example. 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
beenjmade 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

FIG. 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 larvae 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 trout s, 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 (i) 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.

RECOGNITION CHARACTERS

NAME

Length1 Ratio*

Form3

Scales4

Mouth8

1 Length (when grown) in inches. 2 Ratio of depth to length.

3 Cylindrical, depressed, or compressed. 4 Large or small or wanting.

5 Large or small, terminal or inferior.

OF CASCADILLA FISHES

FINS

Dorsal6

Caudal6

Pelvic7

REMARKS

1 Diagram side view. 7 Thoracic or abdominal.

VI. PASTURE PLANTS

11 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 that is 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 OP 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.

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.

FIG. 30. The wire rush
(Juncus tenuis).

PASTURE PLANTS

55
some other

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

There are many other plants in the pasture, which we con-
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.

FIG. 31. Blue-grass (a) and timothy (&): flowering spikes and roots;
with 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 some leaves 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
fill the chinks between the others.

56 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

There is one tree that regularly invades our neglected
pastures. It is 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 in a 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 and then the weeds, and examining 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 ways in 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 :

i . 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.

VII. 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.

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
unique and beautiful digging apparatus,
happily placed on the end of the n >se,
where it is backed by all the pushing
power of a stout body, and where it is

FIG. 32. Nature's most
efficient implement of
tillage. But, alas! a
little bit of metal ring
thrust into the sensitive
base of the "rooter"

hiplilf IFiFcE- directed in its operations by the aid of
very keen olfactories. This is a most
efficient equipment for digging. If any-
58

mon level of mamma-
lian kind, and leaves
him endowed only with
his appetite.

THE EDIBLE WILD ROOTS OP 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 the more dangerous and 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. Now comparatively 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

6o

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

FIG. 33. The poison hem-
lock: portions of flower
cluster, leaf and root.

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.
The potato crop stands among our
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-called groundnut (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 clusters in 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
worthy to be mentioned not as a food
plant, 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,

FIG. 34. Indian cucum-
ber-root (Medeola) , an
excellent salad plant.

62

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Fig. 1 6,6) ; 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 are a 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-
vorite foods of the muskrat,
too. The red 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 (Amphicarpcea monoica, Fig. 36), with its more
fleshy and root-like subterranean pod, also as one.

It is a most 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
about half an inch in diameter. These
are the hog peanuts.

PIG. 35. A portion of a vine of the
hog peanut, bearing both flowers and
seed pods.

FIG. 36. The root
and the under-
ground "nuts" of
the hog peanut.

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 be 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 found in 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
(i) some wild tuber; (2) a scaly bulb; (3) a solid bulb or
corm; (4) a fleshy rhizome; and (5) a true fleshy root.

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

64

EDIBLE WILD ROOTS

NAME

Kind of Plant1

Grows
Where

Nature of
"Root"'

"Tree, shrub, herb vine, etc aquatic, climbing, etc.
2Root, tuber, bulb, corm, rhizome, offset, etc.

OF THE FARM

Form3 and
Size4

Qualities

Uses

Remarks

Diagram.

4 Length 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 and lose some
of it in places favorable for growth next season. Thus they
aid in distributing and in planting the seed. The sleek 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, is not 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
products. Her seed-eating rodents
are all armed with stout chisellike
teeth, adapted for cutting anything,
from the nutshells to chaff. Her seed-
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,
and ravage the loaded seed-cones
pendent upon them. The beaks of
the crossbills are especially adapted to
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

FIG. 38. Specialized seed-
handling apparatus: a,
the teeth of a porcupine ;

b, the beak of a finch;

c, the beak of a cross-
bill, adapted for extract-
ing the seeds of pine
cones.

68 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

seeds, but we have not learned their culture. We have been
satisfied with the grains and pulse of our agricultural 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 hooks or barbs that catch in
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

FIG. 39. Two "seeds"
that often steal a
ride with us: a,
sweet cicely (Osmo-
rhiza) ; b, pitchforks
(Bidens).

Some take a ride 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
of witch-hazel, which shoot out the seeds
to a distance of several yards. But most
seeds are featureless, as regards means of
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.

70 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

NOTE: — 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. i 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.

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
stoutness and position
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

PlG. 40. Diagram illustrating the characteristics
of form in some common trees: a, Lombardy
poplar; b, white birch; c, sugar maple; d,
apple; e, American elm.

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 as in the elms. The
boughs may be short and stocky as in 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
and twigs, all of which need to be seen to
be appreciated. But most positive of all
the structural differences by which we may
distinguish trees are some of the lesser
characters in bud and leaf scar, a few of
which are indicated in figure 41. The size

FIG. 41. Dia-
gram 6f forms
of leaf scar,
and of grouping
of bundle scars
on twigs of: a,
catalpa;6,black
ash; c, horse
chestnut; d,
mockernut hic-
kory; e, black
walnut.

74

RECOGNITION CHARACTERS OF

NAME

Growth
Habit

Bark (mature)

Color

Fissures1

Surface
Layers3

Diana.9

Oak, White

Oak, Red

Hickory9

Chestnut

Butternut

Beech

Birch'

Maple'

Elm'

Ash'

Basswood

Sycamore

Tulip Tree

1 Vertical or horizontal, simple or forking, deep or shallow, narrow or wide, etc.

2 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.

DECIDUOUS TREES IN WINTER

75

Twigs

Misc.'

Buds

Color

Form

Arrange-
ment8

Leaf Scars'

Other Peculiarities*

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

5 Sketch in simple outline.

6 Opposite or alternate.

7 Diagram, including bundle scars and stipule scars.

8 Taste and smell, persistent leaves, nuts, fruit, stalks, etc. ; 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.

X. 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

A nd 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, passed 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 and of 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 . To see what they are.

2. To see their relative abundance, (and)

3 . To see 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.

FlG. 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 logt green, huge, and thick,
And on its top the stout back-stick;
The knotty fore-stick laid apart
And fitted 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 took a
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 of it : 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

FIG. 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 enclosed in 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 by a 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:
(i) a rapid increase to the desired size, and (2) steady burning
(with no great excess of heat) thereafter.

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

PIG. 44. Dan Beard's famous fire of four pine inrvr^ac^ in ci^o oc« 4-V^
knots: o, the preparation of one of the knots; increase in S1Z6 aS tDC
b, the placing and igniting of them. faQ runs ajong 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 45*1, 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
from below. , A smooth
platform of freshly cut
yellow birch poles is 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- pIG. 45. A woodsman's long-keeping "top-fire
liner Q-nH faoTktc anrl a, beginning; b, well under way and ready for
ling ana lagOtS ana the rolling on of the side logs.

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
kindling at home. With a wood famine at 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: (i) a gathering of
fuel stuffs from the wood-lot; and (2) a testing of them in
fire-making.

i . 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 a climax. Let
each effort result in a fire and not a smudge : it should catch
quickly and burn up steadily and clearly with little smoke.
To this end materials
should be selected of proper
kind and proper size for
ready ignition, must be so *%!V
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.

1. 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 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

PIG. 47. Rubbing sticks for

fire-making: a, drill-socket, paragraph I.
to which pressure is applied .

with the left hand (a pine 4. Ancient methods of starting a

knot with a shallow hole in ~

it win do for this); b, the fire may be demonstrated in the inter-

drill, an octagonal hardwood , , ... . . . ..

stick about fifteen inches vals while waiting for the pieces used

long; the top should work ., , _T. ,

smoothly in the drill socket; n I, 2, and 3 to DUITl OUt. With the

c, inelastic bow for rotating . .,

drill, it is moved horizont- apparatus shown in ngure 47 any-

ally back and forth with the £ , J* . . -

right hand; its cord, d, is a one can start a lire by tnction or one

leather thong with enough . ,,

slack to tightly encircle the piece of wood upon another and care-
driii once; e, fire board of _ ,, . , ,. , .

dry balsam fir, or of cotton- fully nursing the first resulting spark.

wood root, or even of bass- _..,. J .. . .. . ,

wood, observe how the Flint and steel and tinder may also

notches are cut with sides , . ..

be tried.

flaring downward; a little pit
to receive the point of the
fire drill is at the apex of
each one; i is a used-put
notch; 2 is yet in use; 3 is a
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, burning at one end, the liquids in

with gentle fanning, ignites. - . ., .,

A dry piece of punk should the wood may be made visible.

be placed beneath the notch .-,,..,., ,

to catch it, and some fine Green elm will exude water at the

tinder (such as may be - -

readily made by scraping Otiier end;

fine, dry cedar wood) should 1 . , ...,

be added to catch the first hlCKOry Will

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.

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

(a) By having green chunks

red maple will froth;
a very limited

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 . A sketch 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

90

WINTER VERDURE OF THE FARM 91

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
arborvitas 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. Arborvitae is a chameleon, that
changes its color with the season, being rather dull and un-
attractive in midwinter, but making up for it 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 arborvitae. 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

92 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-cover 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 often 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 and 95. 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. An annotated list of the broad-leaved evergreens, with
notes on size, growth-habits, situation preferred, character of
foliage, etc.

94

RECOGNITION CHARACTERS OF

NAME

Growth
Habit1

Kind of
Bark*

Leaves

Size3

Form4

1 Diagram.

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

3 Length X width in mm.
4Cylindric, flat, keeled, grooved, etc.

EVERGREEN TREES AND SHRUBS

95

Fruit

Position8 Arrangement6 Kind

Form8

Miscellaneous

5 Appressed or divergent, etc.

6 Solitary or in bundles: if solitary, are they opposite or alternate, 2-ranked
3r scattered: if in bundles, how many leaves per bundle.

7 Cone, berry, drupe, etc.

8 Diagram of distinctive features.

XIII. THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM

"I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,

Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor earth-lorn companion

An' fellow-mortal!
— Robert Burns (To a 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

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
a man'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 all the 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.

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 to kill 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 is more food
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. It is 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.

FIG. 48. A pronghorn buck.

THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM 99

Then there are a 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. We do well,
also, to consider that each species we destroy is a 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.

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:

i. 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 FA&M 101

sheltering piece of bark or a flat stone, supported an inch or
more, allowing easy access. 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:

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

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

FIG. 49. Spring pole and snare:
A, its setting; the pole is a
lithe sapling, trimmed and

n (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 t is set in a

Minch hole in the post. The
ghtest movement of the
bait-stick rolls the ball, re-
leases the line, /, and liberates
the pole to draw the noose.

IO2

THE WILD MAMMALS

NAME

Weight

Length

Color and Markings1

Body

Tail

1. Woodchuck

s

2. Chipmunk

1

3. Red squirrel
4. Deer mouse

5. Meadow mouse

6. Short- tailed shrew

7. Mole

,

8. Skunk

CARNIVORA

9. Mink
10. Weasel
11. Raccoon

12. Bat

1 In brief.

OF THE FARM

103

Fur

Quality1 Market Price

Feeding Habits1

Economy3

Miscellaneous

" 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-taking 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 mammaJian 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. He became a will-
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 and fully 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. Doubtless the sav-
age youth who first 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. As a 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
cooperating with his master. He coul d 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 OP 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. He is a draft animal in arctic lands ; 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
FIG. so. Ox yoke: our animals. Turning the soil with a

chief symbol of servitude. .

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-
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

io8 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 109

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

FIG. 52. A quick-growing meat supply. 11 . 1 . -

well mgn 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 is not 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 to us. 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

no 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 cooperation 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 to us. The milk of mares is good, but who would
drink it ? In lands where certain cattl e are regarded as sacred ,
their flesh is not considered good to eat. 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 he is
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 III

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, tho there are many kinds of 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: (i) 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 . The student 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.

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,
A nd 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 all 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 fowl, 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 for man. 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 £
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

H4 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.
It is 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,
Fpig5eon.Thewildpassengerand mow down with shot at every

THE FOWLS OF THE FARM 115

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
on only 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, and in 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

n6

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

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 suffi-
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. Fattened on 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,
the muffled drumming of the ruffed Fl^0ui. The male ruffed

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

^ HI „ lk|. places will be preserved where

P xv¥L t &£5&5& those who come after us may

f ^y^sss^^f/^^^^^SSii 1 J

hear the call of the bob-white
and the grouse in our vales:

\

FIG. 56.

Carolina.)

The sora rail (Porzana

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 of all birds, the ones most
useful to us are those that are best equipped by nature for
working-over the barnyard litter and securing the grain left
in it ; the gallinaceous birds by scratching with their feet ; the
waterfowl by dabbling with their beaks. They consumed
what would otherwise have been wasted, and turned it into a
reserve meat supply; so they were encouraged to remain.
With growing familiarity they made their nests in the hay-

Il8 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
as meat. 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 with a 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 appears in 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 119

conversation, and playfulness. Contrast with this the pea-
fowl : it is 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 at least 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

"/ 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 good farming. 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 to change. 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,

121

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 curving 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 roads and
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. Roads happen. 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. (This may, 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, and at 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

A STUDENT'S RECORD OF FARM OPERATIONS

127

Observed during the week be-
ginning

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

Domicile

Other
activities

Business
Civic
Social
Misc.

Sept. 28th

Oct. 5th, etc.

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 to look 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

NAME

Location

Chosen forf

Best viewed
from

Map

Situation

White Pine

I

Hemlock

0

Cedar

a

u

Larch

•*->

Oak*
Hickory*

t

1

I

Chestnut

M

|

Butternut

f

*

Beech

Birch*

~

Maple*

s

-

1

Elm*

jj

Ash*

0

Basswood

Sycamore

Tulip tree

rlornbeam*

Flowering Dog-
wood

REMARKS

«B

1

Pine Woods

c

Oak Woods

^o

Elm Woods

3

Beech Woods

1

22

General Forest
Cover

*Any species, but specify which species.

fSymmetry, columnar trunk, type of branching, color, etc.

130

NOTEWORTHY VIEWS

Kind of view

For what selected

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

A wide panorama

A long vista

A woodland aisle

Undulating fields

A small sheltered valley

A crop in the field

A meandering brook

A pond scene

A waterfall

Rocky cliffs

A foliage picture

A scene with farm animals

A snow scene

A homestead

Prints, sketches, or diagrams of the views selected

ON THE FARM

Location

Best seen from

At what time

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

132 NATURAL HISTORY OP 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 or less 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
dispersal

etc.)
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.

134

AUTUMNAL COLORATION

NAME

Leaf-
form1

COLOR

First
tint

Mature
tint

Date

Fading
tints

First appearing

Where
on leaf

Where
on tree

In what
situa-
tion2

Diagram, including all leaflets if compound.
"Wet or dry ground, sun or shade, etc.

AND LEAF FALL

Condition of
falling leaves3

Conditions4
accomp anyingr
maximum fall

Remarks

Date of loss of leaves

Maximum

Final

•

•

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

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 c6me 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.

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 loo-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 — i.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.

XVIII. THE DECIDUOUS SHRUBS OF THE FARM

11 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.

H3

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 a 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, spiraeas 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

spiraea 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

PIG. 57. Diagram of the growth of shrubs, showing annual increments, a, an old
shoot of maple-leaved viburnum, b, 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 sulUvantii] 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

I46

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.

/\

PIG. 58. Diagram of buds and leaf scars; a, in black-berried elder; b, 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 it is 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 201). And if rightly used— if used in such
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 (6) 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; bt 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 SHRUB;

NAME

Height

Annual '
Shoots

Growth5
Habit

Grows3
Where

TWIGS

Diameter* Color

1 Maximum growth of one season in centimeters.
a Erect or spreading, slender, bushy, etc.

3 In sun or shade, wet or dry ground, etc.

4 Average diameter of an average twig in millimeters.
* Clustering of buds, hairiness, thorns, etc.

149

OF THE FARM

BUDS

Form8

Color

Arrangement'

Leaf -scars6

REMARKS8

6 Diagram.

7 Opposite, alternate or whorled.

8 Note persistence of seed-pods, presence of flower-buds, winter-killing of tips, or other peculiaritiei
)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 how it ran. 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-
ISO

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,

4*
«/

' « ' * *

I •

i
I
a

t

***»••;*

FIG. 59. Tracks on
the snow of mam-
mals, walking, a,
rabbit; b, skunk.
(Drawn from
photographs) .

FIG. 60. The record of a morning excursion of a red
squirrel in search of a breakfast. Arrow indicates direc-
tion taken; A, hole where a nut was obtained. (Drawn
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
into burrows, or ascents for
scouting. The woodsman fol-
lows the animal's trail, and
from such signs as these reads
his successive doings like a
book.

The trails that birds leave
are less continuous, because
betimes the birds betake them-
selves to the trackless air; but
in a wood where crows feed, one

\L W may see such diverse things as

the wastage from their pick-
ings of sumach and poison-ivy
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

FIG. 61. Bird tracks; p, crow; q,
ruffed grouse.

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 . To avoid 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 girdle such trees
and loll 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 mild 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-Tree!
My canoe to bind together,
So to bind the ends together
That the water may not enter,
That the river may not wet me!"

— 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
"hay-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

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. It is the twisting
that grips the overlapped fibers together and holds them by

PlG. 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 as 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 OP 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
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,"

FIG. 63. An oriole at his nest, bringing a
thread for the weaving.

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,
4 '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
incarnata), marshmallow (Hibiscus moschentos), stamp-
weed (Abutilon awcennce), nettle (Urtica gracilis), burdock
(Arctium lappa), sunflower (Helianthus annnus), 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 among 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

I6o 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 Pl£ee^po£tton~bearing 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.

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:

1 . 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 Plaiting,
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 a thawing rain
A nd 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 snow, 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

"/ 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

FIG. 65. A sap-sucker
on a tree trunk, mak-
ing lines of perfora-
tions.

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
basins for a soft drink (fig. 66). And
when these larger creatures set the sap
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

£_._ PIG. 66. A squirrel drinking sap as it exudes from a maple

from any inCIS- 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. It is bored through the sap-
wood 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
undesirable products by skimming the
surface as they are raised by boiling.
The owner of a "sugar bush" performs
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

FIG. 67. Diagram to illus-
trate proper tapping of a

white, the heart wood is
shaded.

172 NATURAL HISTORY OP 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. 217) : 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 during 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 time 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. Tobb.

XXIII. NATURE'S SOIL-CONSERVING
OPERATIONS

11 Behold this compost! behold it welll

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 those strata of

sour dead. . . .
Now I am terrified at the Earth! it is 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, and a 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 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

PIG. 68. Diagram of a section of a partly little, but in the long run it
wooded hill. /, original contour of the 1 1 1 j

hill slope; m, contour assumed after IS thoroughly UOne.
tilling of the fields; n, in-wash of soil __._

above; and o, out -wash of soil below. We Can S66 the Contrast D6-

tween nature's soil manage-
ment and our own on almost any slope where both fields and
woods occur. Wherever their boundaries run 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
above it : 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 in the 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

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

FIG. 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

i;8 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 larvae
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:

1. 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,
How 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 : a few
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 OP THE TREES

181

FIG. 70. Three insect larvae that
live in logs, x, a carpenter-worm ;
y, a wire-worm; z, a snipe-fly larva
(Xylophagus) .

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 and
perforate the bark. Wire-worms
and firefly larvae perforate the
log heaps when in a crumbling
red-rotten condition; and white
grubs mix the last recognizable
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
cylindric legless larvae of fungus-gnats,
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-
mies, also — salamanders, that

the minute white
Also, we find true

FIG. 71. Adult insects found under
bark of logs; a, a fire-fly (Lampy-
ridae); b, a rove-beetle (Staphy-

linidae).

182 NATURAL HISTORY OP 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 70 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:

I. Caterpillars, (Order Lepidoptera) having a long cyl-
indric body, with a brown shield covering the first segment
behind the head, and a tuberculate, spinous skin. These are
moth larvas fig. 70*.

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 Buprestidae

and Cerambycidae), 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 (Scolytidae) , having short, thick,

arcuate bodies that are usually legless, naked,
wrinkled, and white.

3. "Wire-worms'' (Elateridae), 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. 'joy).

THE PASSING OF THE TREES 183

4. "Glow-worms" (Lampyridae) , 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" (Scarabaeidae) , 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 larvae (Pyrochroidae) , 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 larva (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 larvae (Mycetophilidae), of minute size,

white and soft, usually occurring gregariously
under bark.

2. Snipe-fly larvae (Leptidas), 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 larvae (Tipulidae), 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 MASSING 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.

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

Inhabits

XXV. THE FENCE-ROW

"J 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
as in a meadow ; if he mows
it annually in winter, shrubs
and vines possess it; if he
neglects to mow it for a few
years, trees come in. What-
ever plants grow in it, it is
a haven of refuge for their
wild animal associates; if
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-

FIG. 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.

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
PIG. 73. May-appie—fine wild herb see the wild things have been

that lingers in the fence-row. °

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.

I9o 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 condition3 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
dwell in them. 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 algae of various kinds, both
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° P., 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 Sph&rium, furrowing the

FIG. 74. A leaf of
watercress.

THE SPRING BROOK

193

silt on the pool-beds; worms, by planarians
gliding over the stones of the bottom, and by
Tubifex, in tubes in the bottom mud, waving
their long, lithe, filamentous, red bodies in the
water; and insects, by a number of inhabitants
of the submerged vegetation — caddis-worms
(fig. 76), mayfly nymphs (fig. 23), midge larvae
(fig. 24), etc., and by a few burro wers in the
bottom. The spring brook does not harbor
mosquitoes, but horse-fly larvae (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

P mon5' .spring0-™! brook are few, and many of them are so
restricted by conditions that, wherever they
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.":

"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."

mabtidenrg

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

FIG. 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 —
whether ' 'improved' ' with abasin 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:

1 . 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

"/ 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 wrjen 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 them shooting up

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
from seeds. If there appear to
be none, let us look closely, for
FTaw7n8: f.eethr!idins&k;1?tte dogwoods come on slowly. The

seeds often require several years
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 a lawn. 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 up in a new 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 OP 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

FIG. 79. An uprooted branch of cockle-mint ; a, the old
dead flowering stem; b, b, two new shoots, ready for
the coming season ; c, c, 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, (Physostegiavirginiana.)
(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. If there be only a few little offsets close against
the base of the old stem, as in the tall lobelias (Lobelia cardi-
nalis 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. To plant 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

FIG. 80. A spray of sweet-fern (Comptonia asplenifolia) .

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.

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 a search in 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. In the case 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 . In the case of all the forms studied, a tabular statement
under column headings as follows :

Name of plant.

( moisture.

Requirement as to < v ,
( sunlight.

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-
ing 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 green and 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 andtrilliums, 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. There1 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

2IO

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

FIG. 81. Hepatica.

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 . B ut ,
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,
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 aUout our doors
again, where we can propagate them and protect them from
utter annihilation. They will grow there as well as in the
woods, i£ 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 211

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 OP 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

2I4

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 om 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
fenced round about by
a close-set 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

FIG. 83. Diagram of a section of an apple blos-
som, j, sepal; k, petal; I , anthers; m, stigmas;
n, nectar.

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.

At any rate, the sting-
less visitors of the apple
blossoms, true flies and
butterflies, behave very
differently. They flit

FIG. 84. A syrphus fly (Syrphus americanus, i -, •,

after Metcaif). 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, corning 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 €he 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, pore 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)
f per minute.
Number of flowers visited < 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 theirs is. 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 tjheir 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
spring?

Wild birds they are, yet they do not mind our
presence if we treat them well. And a number
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

fo?birds.es

THE SONG-BIRDS OP 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 3 1 . 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 ot 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 white! '
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
it is 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, unhealthy 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) A single 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.

228

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
uninvited, 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 OP 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.
Date, of .

maximum,
blossoms n

last appearance.

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

Date of
flowering

Character
of foliage

I. Hepatica

2. Rue Anemone

3. Adder's Tongue

4. Moss-pink

5. Trillium

6. Columbine

7. Bishop's Cap

8. Cranesbill

9. May Apple

10. Iris

Others of your own
selection

12.

BEST WILD FLOWER-GARDENS OF MIXED SORTS

Location

Components

Seasonal range of
flowers

I. On level woodland
2. On dry hillsides

3. In wet swale, marsh
or bog

232

io. NOTEWORTHY FLOWERING SHRUBBERY OF THE FARM

Best Natural Plantings
I have seen of

Location

Area covered

Conditions!

Date of
flowering

Character
of foliage

I . Azalea

2. Maple-leaved
arrowwood

3. Elder*
4. Flowering Dogwood
5. Other Dogwood*
6. Viburnum*

7. Sumach*
8. Witch Hazel

9. Spicebush
io. Buttonwood

II. Willow*

12. Mountain Ash

13. Juneberry
14. Any other

Pleasing Shrub Combinations

I . Border plantings
2. Cover plantings

3. Mixed-specimen
plantings

*Any species, but specify which species.

J Of moisture and sunlight.

PART III

STUDIES FOR SUMMER TERM

XXXIII. THE PROGRESS OF THE SEASON

" Now is 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 is 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.

THE PROGRESS OP 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-
Pic. 86. White clover. (This and other binders for holding togeth-

drawings bearing the same monogram pre- „- +1.^ oii-rfarv* la-^o-ro r\f
pared by Miss Olive N. Tuttle for this book. er tne SUTface layers OI

eroding hill slopes; 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 their beauty ! 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 small
flowers in clusters, and short, few-seeded PlG. 87. Red clover.

THE CLOVERS

239

pods. The true clovers
(members of the genus Tri-
folium} produce their flowers
in heads : the others (sweet
clovers of the genus Meli-
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,

PIG. 89. Alsike clover.

FIG. 88. White sweet-clover.

striking root wherever they
touch the ground, fit it for life
in pastures and in 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

FIG. 90. Rabbitt's-foot
clover (after Britton and
Brown) .

differ from the
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. The others are 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.

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
unpromising of
soils.

The medics
sweet clovers in

FIG. 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 :

i. 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),
fform (diagram).

\nodules (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.

Leaves

242

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Flower-clusters

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).

corolla (color, form, etc.).

calyx (length in relation to corolla, hairiness, etc.).
fragrance
visitors (insects seeking nectar).

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.

Flowers

XXXV. THE AROMATIC HERBS OP 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.1'

—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 excess. 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 OP THE FARM

245

PIG. 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, 26. 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, not in themselves

nourishing at all, that,

added in moderation to

our diet, help to keep

our nutritive machinery

working efficiently, and

so cpntribute to our

welfare.

Only foods proper are

of sustaining value, but

many harmless food ad-
juncts, especially the

-flr.-, ^t PIG. 93. Round-leaved mnllow; the fruit (shown

flaVOringS Ot 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

FIG 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 " (B arbidge) .

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. 68 1). 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,
pennyroyal, etc. 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

PlG. 95. Pennyroyal.

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 put in 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
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

FIG. 96. Watermint.

250 NATURAL HISTORY OP THE FARM

also in situations appropriate to them. By the waterside are
marsh-mint (Blepkila ciliata) and watermint (Mentha cana-
densis} , 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 things 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 m&,
A nd tune his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither."

—Shakespeare (As You Like If).

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 76), 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
length 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

PIG. 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

234 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-
moner 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 i, on 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 72 and figure 40).

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).

THE TREES IN SUMMER

255

Shoots

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 [to date (on average new shoots),
leaves j last season (as indicated by old leaf-
developed I scars).

growth season (early, medium, or late, or all-
season).

2. Table of Characters of Flowers and Fruits

Name.
Date.

Flowers

as to size

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 — i.e., stamens and pistils in the
same flower; monoecious — i.e. , stamens and
pistils in different flowers on same plant ; or
dicecious — i.e., 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 form

L color.

256

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

arrangement (diagram in position on stem; in

cluster, if it grows in one).

Fruit •! stage (proportion of growth attained to date),
structure (diagram single fruit in section, or in

whatever way will best convey an idea 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 OP THE FIELD

"In the garden more grows
Than the gardener sows."

— Spanish Proverb.

Weeds were not invented 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, this is the fate of nearly all plants that spring from

WEEDS OP 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-
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.

PIG. 98. Beautiful weeds
yarrow; b, sheep sorrel.

260

NATURAL HISTORY OP 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. 56), we found that the weeds of

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. B etween 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

FIG. 99. Sun prints of camomile and carrot. CrOPS With which they

grow, are the ones that

give the farmer the most trouble. They are natural com-
petitors.

The farmer gives them as bad a handicap as possible at
planting time. He buries their seed deeply by plowing
the soil, and at once he plants seed of his own crop at the

WEEDS OP 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

FIG. 100. Sun prints of weeds, showing the extent to which they shade
the ground, i , 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

262

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
follows spring. The scythe,
especially, is used with too little judgment. The altogether
harmless and altogether beautiful goldenrods and asters
fringing many a roadside are mown to extermination to
make a place for ragwreeds 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- PIG. 102. Better than weeds in the fence-
, . - . 11 row — the maple-leaved viburnum.

plant, is to him a weed and

to be treated accordingly, then in increased labor and

in the sweat of his brow he must pay the cost of his stupidity.

PIG. 101. Leives of rag-weed at all ages;
a seed-leaves; b, c, d, e, successively older
leaves; m,n,o,p,q,r,s, leaves successively
formed on a fruiting spray; z, a fruiting tip.

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 in mm. ;
of a leaflet, if compound) .

6. Flower or flower-cluster (diagram).

I Size.
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. A map of the farm, with the centers of possible dispersal
of seeds of noxious weeds marked in red upon it.

9. Crop. '

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
compound clusters in fine mechani-
cal adjustment. Saint John's worts
and campions and sunflowers and
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 figwdrts 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

FIG. 103. Turtle-heads (Che-
lone glabra:') a, the flower from
the side; b, the same with a
bumble-bee entering.

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
FlfGeasfo4utsP«adadow-sweet ** '' part of their visitors. A bee

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
abound then, also; and there is FIG. 105.
competition for the services of the
bees.

Their r^atronage 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
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
spread them out flatwise in a head or corymb
hairs from the or umbel, as on a common table. This last

noney bee.

Side view of the ab-
domen of a bee, showing pollen
brushes.

26.6 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 Icng 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-like con-
volvulus flowers can
be sucked only by
long-tongued hum-
ming-bird moths.
That in the tightly-
closed bilabiate
corollas on the mon-
key-flowers can be

FIG. 107. Beard-tongue (Pentstemon pubescens) a, the i,_ J
flower; b, section of the same, showing the trigger- Ilclcl
like bearded upper stamen, which is declined so that
it overlies the stalks of the pollen-bearing stamens.

The insect, entering where indicated by the arrow, «+,.,,,.„ „-*-!, .*-„-
in clutching ttis stamen shakes pollen from the others MJcIlglll IU

"G'enerTmo^y."™ ^ ^^ *" aUth°r>S the mOUth of the

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 is 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

PIG. 108. A leaf-devouring caterpillar
(A crony eta) 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.

Of insects 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 Flo. 109. A sucking insect- the

beaks and suck out the plant juices

bu8 (OncopeltuS

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

FIG. 110. A colony of aphids on a leaf of Ceanolhus; . ,

h, a syrphus-fly larva, feeding; », a winged aphid; into a Cabbage-field,
j, an ant attending the colony; k, an aphid parasitized , ...

(see fig. 113). where little white

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.
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
other lands. They have been brought

PIG. 111. The nine-spottad
ladybird beetle and its
larva.

SOME INSECTS AT WORK ON !FARM CROPS 271

PlG. 113. An aphid
skin with a hole
in its back,
whenc e has
emerged a para-
site.

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
to control.

Under natural conditions, there is an occa-
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 on a

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. in)

consume the

aphids bodily. pIG.n4

Lacewing fly lar-
vae (fig. 112) and

a

A parasitized moth larva on a blue-grass top:
some of its parasites have spun their cocoons beside it,
others, on the grass-blade above, b, shows an easy
method of hatching out the adult parasites from the
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 ojyen marsh, and stand half immersed in the water.
The hogs in their pens root up 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
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
(Culicidae). 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-
water barrels, and even tin
cans cast upon a rubbish-heap

116.

Larva of the mosquito
Ancphles punctipennis. (Drawn
by Miss Cora A. Smith).

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

FIG. 117. The buffalo-gnat .(Simulium
pecuarum, after Gannan).

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.
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's edge. The adults (fig. 117)

love the sunshine, and their biting

is troublesome only by day. u. s.

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
frontal sinus of the sheep, causing vertigo to
Flfly1of9t^ehhobrse" the animal and often killing it; one under the
skin on the backs of cattle, causing great lumps
that may be readily felt by running one's hands
in* over an animal's back. These larvae (known
as "ox-warbles") are the easiest of the bots to
observe. Over each of them is a hole in the skin, 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 OP 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 capable 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 is 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 larvae 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 leaving a
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 larvae of
black-flies ("turkey-gnats," "sand-flies, "etc.), horse-flies and
punkies and alcoholic specimens of bot-fly and horn-fly larvae
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 combat-
ing the pests (standing in water, in wind, in brush,
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 heiven 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 waiting for thee?

How streamlets whisper and leaves are shaken,

And winter-sleeping things awaken,

A nd 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 in it. 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 OP 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 plowred 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.11 — 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 are mostly 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. 3 7 ) . 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 OP 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 (Mikania 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 from the 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

FIG. 120. A spray of wild grape. ., ,__ . . «_ *

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

[BJ5
PIG. 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 level 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 (Menispermum canadense)
is a half -woody twiner that overruns the bushes in moist
lowland thickets. It is one of the best of vines for shady

FIG. 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 (Eckinocystis 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

FIG. 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
man'tle of life over
the top of mutilated
shrubbery. Nature
sets him splendid
models in every
thicket and by every
brookside.

PIG. 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 through a
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 founP
growing, and with what different kinds of supports.

XLIII. 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. In such places the crops that we know how to raise
on farms will not thrive. There is too much 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
FIG. 125. A heavy cius- soil; such bulrushes as Scirpus fluwatilis ;

ter of manna-grass 1,1 1 , M i «

(p anicuiar ia laxa) after such other plant s, as cat-tails and bur-

Britton and Brown. - ,r ,N - „

reeds (fig. 16); and, over smaller areas,
sweet flag (Acorns 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

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. Forms like those
that grow on shoals (mentioned on page 35) will appear if 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. A map 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. J

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 the
"garden of the slothful," they have had a share in promoting
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

FIG. 127. Wild blackberry: A young shoot of the season, a ;j.._ •U/-k_/lQ-r,
fruiting shoot, and a dead cane. **» D< >raers.

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 fallen tree. 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. 1 8) and greenbrier, in the

thorny thickets
of the farm.
But such as
those above
described are
the ones that
have most
affected human
interests. Fit
only to be burn-
ed— except
when (as not
infrequently),
without care or
thought from
us, they happen
to be found
bearing a load
of luscious fruit.
Their fruit-

PIG. 128. Wild red raspberry. . ,, .. j

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
are doubtless planted also by the
birds. The grass grows tall in a peri-
pheral zone among the canes, and
under its matted
tufts numerous
runways of

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. * FlG. 130. cudweed.

FIG. 129. Wild rose.

*"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 wu'z 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 mannq:
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 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:

1. 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.

A nd light-winged guests came not a few,
To his leafy inn, and sipped the dew,
And sang their best songs ere they flew.

I slept at night on a downy bed

Of moss, and my host benignly spread

His own cool shadow over my head."

— Thomas Westwood (Mine Hosf).

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 ami 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 m 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 injurious insects ; 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 the 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
a ffl ^ H anc^ 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-
PIG. isi. Oyster- pillars will all be gone before midsummer
lppieSC?wfg?naSd and a new growth will be replacing the leaves
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 a conspicuous surface 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.

FIG. 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 free, 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 old nests of tent-
caterpillars ; fresh defoliation by caterpilalrs; 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 found 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 :

1 . A large diagram of a single apple 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 a touch. 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

PIG. 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

FIG. 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 (Leersid),
fringing the edges of former pools. 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.

PIG. 135. A late-season spray of the fowl
meadow-grass (Panicularia nervata), show-
ing" vegetative aerial offsets with roots: a small
lateral offset is shown enlarged at the right.

3io 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-grass (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
FTng13pamcFerUof their roots; soil hard and bare in the first case,
o^-gf aS. mead" 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 season in 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 two, hae paidl't i' the burn
From mornin' sun till dine."

— 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 . One of 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
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

FIG. 137. A floating birds' bath on a pond: out
of the way of cats.

3i4 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 aid in making
spectacular plunges.

FIG. 138. Poor modern alternatives. i +'•••'*

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!

FIG. 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

"0, 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.11

— 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 the air. 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 necked
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 otir 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-paths lead into pleasant places, and the
shadows that He 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. A shadowy 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 . A display 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 228 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 glasses.

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

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 229, 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 &nd 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-
tions,
condition of soil as to tilth, weeds,

etc.
tillage.

average height at each date of record,
details of its development and be-
havior.

birds, animals, insects, fungi, etc.,
found causing injury.

Physical factors
of environment

2. Growth

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
"improvements" 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 such a
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 informed 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
roadbed 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

33e 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 airi 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. i\ 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 the 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 by a 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 is the floor plan; B is

FIG. 140. Diagram of an outdoor auditorium.

332 NATURAL HISTORY OP 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 a row of 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

Abundance 16

Abutilon 159, 259

Acquaintance 1 1

Acorns 29, 30

Acorus 36, 6 1

Acroneuria 42

Acronycta 269

Adder 's-tongue .206, 208, 210, 234

Adirondacks 84

Adjustment 235, 293

Advertise 265

Aerial roots 13

Agassiz, Louis 14

Age of Chivalry 108

Agricultural conditions 98

Agriculture 9, 104, 327

Acanthus 224

Alders 292

Alexander, C. P 63

Alfalfa 240

Algae 35,36,192,307

Alcohol 13

Alum root 92

Amphicarpaea 62

Amphiagrion 42

Anax junius 42

Ancestors 72

Anemonella 210

Anemones 208

Animals 36, 39, no, 258

Animals, farm 69, 274

Animal ;fibers 160

Animal husbandry 196

Anise 247

Annual plants 235

Anopheles 275

A-phids 268, 270, 271, 304

Apios 60, 285, 286, 289

Apocynum (dogbane) 159

Appetite for blood 275

Apples 16, 17, 19 73 246

Apple blossoms 214

Apple- cur culio 304

Apple leaf miner 304

PAGB

Apple-maggoJ; 305

Apple tree 153, 302

April 208

Aquatic insects , 39

Aquatic plants 308

Arboretum 45

Arborvitae 91

Arctium (burdock) 159

Aroids 61, 63

Aromatic cedar 91

Aromatic herbs 243

Aromatic oils 249

Arrow arum 61

Arrowhead 62

Arrow-woods 143, 197

Arsenate of lead 269

Artichoke 60

Artistic standards 128

Asclepias (milkweed) 159

Asellus 38, 192

Ash 74, 129, 170

Asparagus 244

Asphalt pavement 33

Ass 109, no

Association 291, 293

Asters 292, 311, 317

As You Like It 252

Attachment discs 287

Audubon societies 328

Augochlora 214

Auld Lang Syne 312

Autumn 66, 132

Autumn's Mirth 66

Autumnal Coloration, 132, 137,201

Avens 294

Azaleas 144

Back swimmer 39

Back to nature 1 1

Bacon 24

Bacteria, nitrogen gathering . 237

Badger 97

Bad taste 123

Bag 14

333

334

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

PAGE

Balance 206

Balance of nature 198

Balaninus (acorn weevil) .... 27

Balm 247

Balsams 54, 91

Balsam-apple 288

Barbidge 247

Barberry 20, 167

Bark beetles 30

Bark-strings 155

Barnyard 117

Basil 247

Basket 14

Basket industry 143

Basses 47

Basswood 74, 129, 155, 253

Bathing places 313

Bats 99, 102

Beard, Dan 84

Beard- tongue 266

Bears 9, 98, 182

Beasts of prey 97

Beauties of nature 32

Beaver 9, 96, 97, 150

Beech 72, 74, 129, 170, 224

Beechnut 28

Beech nuts 25

Beech woods 129

Bee-fly 215

Beetle 27, 181, 216, 305

Beetle larvae 182

Beets 60

Bedstraws 293

Benacus 39

Bennett, William C 307

Bergamot 247

Berries 296

Berry-bearing shrubs . 17, 189, 201

Beverage 18

Binding-twine 156

Bindweeds 288

Bison 97, 98, 274, 312

Birch. .72,73,74,83,129, 165,317

Birch bark 178

Birch curl 83

Birds 19,22,24,

67, 157, 188, 197, 201, 220, 296

Bird's bath 313

Bird migration 67

Biting insects 269

PAGE

Bittersweet 71, 287, 288, 289

Black bass 46

Blackberried elder 18, 146

Blackberry 18, 244, 297, 298

Black-flies

36, 37, 39, 40, 274, 275, 276

Black Maple 170

Black walnut 187

Blanket algae 36

Blanks for record 13

Blepharocera 38

Blepharoceridae 40

Bloodroots .... 206, 208, 209, 210

Bloodsucking flies 279

Blueberries 17, 18, 144

Bluebird 220

Blue flag (iris) 293

Blue grass 55,25®

Blue-green algae 35

Blue myrtle 92

Bob-white 116, 117

Bone awl 157

Boneset 293,310

Borders 144

Borers 182,303

Bot-flies 275, 277, 278 279

Bounty of nature 10, 16

Box-elders 170

Bracken fern 163 292 299

Braiding 156

Brambles 145 186, 189, 296

Brasenia 35

Brer Rabbit 299

Bridge 318,329

Briers 188

Brier patch 299

Broad-leaved evergreens 92

Brook 307, 310

Brook trout I92

Browsing 53, 54

Brown-tail moth 271

Brush 124, 143, 146

Brush fence 186

Brushwood 77

Bryant 143, 180, 193, 274

Bryozoans 38

Buckeye 26, 28

Buckthorn 145

Buckwheat 68, 259,261

Buckwheat, climbing 289

INDEX

335

PAGE

Bud-moth caterpillars 304

Buffalo 9,96

Buffalo-berries 16, 19, 144

Buffalo gnat 37, 276

Bugle-weed 309

Building-sites 191

Bull dogs in

Bullheads 47

Bulrushes 292, 293

Buprestidae 182

Burdock 159, 257, 262

Burns, Robert 24, 96, 312

Bur-weed 36

Burrow 150, 176

Burrowers 58

Burrowing bee 214

Burs 12

Bushes 197

Bush fruits 17, 22

Butter 24

Butter-and-eggs 266

Buttercup 55, 294

Butterflies 215

Butternut 25, 28, 74, 129, 170

Buttonbush 144, 269

Cabbages 54, 246

Cabbage-lice 270

Cabbage- worms 270

Caddis worms 37, 40, 193

Calamus root (sweet flag) ... 62

Callibaetis 42

Calyx 19

Camomile 260

Campfire 83, 84

Campions 245, 264

Camp sites 83

Canada 168

Canoe 155

Can-opener 10

Caraway ' 247

Cardinal flowers 211, 294

Carnivores 39, 178, 181, 271

Carnivorous 41. 48

Carpels . •. 19

Carpenter worms 181

Carrots 59, 6o> 260, 266

Cascadilla 45

CastailHa 35

Cat 109, 153

PAGE

Catbird 302

Catnip 246

Caterpillars 182, 304

Cat fishes 47, 48

Catnip 246, 247

Cattail 36,62,292,293,310

Cattle

32, 47, 52, 55, 56, 109, in, 277

Cauliflower 246

Cavalier 108

Cayuga 113

Ceanothus 270

Cedar 91, 129

Cedar berries 22

Celastrus 288

Centaur 107

Centipedes. 178, 181

Cereals 10, 32, 68, 127

Cerambycidae 182

Ceremonials 246

Ceratophyllum 35

Ceratopogon 43

Cherries 16, 22, 187

Chestnut

24, 28, 30, 73, 74, 129, 184

Chestnut Oak 28

Chestnut Weevil 27

Chickadees 153

Chickens 1 17, 1 18

Chicks 118

Chickweeds 55

Chicory 60

Chipmunk 100, 102

Chironomidae 40

Chironomus 43

Chipping sparrow 143

Chokecherries 20, 189, 317

Cinquefoil 317

Civilization . . .9, 10, 105, 186,296

Cladophora 34

Clearing n, 18, 143

Clematis (virgin's bower) .... 288

Climate 9

Climbers 30

Climbing apparatus 286

Climbing hemp 286

Cloth 157, 159

Clothes 10

Clothing 13

Cloven hoofs 53, 108

336

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

PAGE

Clovers 56, 235, 237, 238, 239

Clover, white 238, 253

Clover, hop 240

Cock 118

Cocklebur 257, 258

Cockle mint 198, 199, 294

Cockroaches 181

Codling moth 17, 22, 304

Coleoptera 40, 182

Columbine 209

Columbus 244

Combustion 83

Community 122

Competition 25, 150, 265

Competitors 197, 233

Composites 310

Compost 175

Comstock, Mrs. J. H. . . . 172, 277

Confections 172

Coniferous 90

Conifers 86, 91, 164

Conservation soil 25, 175, 285

Consumers 39

Containers 13

Continuous occupancy 199

Control of animals 47, 186

Cooking 81

Coolers 191

Copper 10

Coptotomus 39

Cordage 92, 156, 158, 161, 162

Core fruits 19

Corethra 43

Coriander 247

Corixa 39

Corn 9, 186,234

Corn weather 234

Corner grocery 265

Corydalis cornuta 39

Corylus americanus 26

Cotton 159, 160

Cottonwood 160, 177

Country Pathway, A 296

Course in sprouts 144

Covert 330

Cow 53

Cowslips 292

Crab apple 20

Crab-grass 259

Cranberries 16, 17, 286

PAGE

Craneflies 40, 183

Crawfish 38,46,48,292,310

Creek 33

Creepers 35

Cresses 246, 292, 294

Crop plants 268

Crops 15,25, 121

Crop production 233

Crossbills 67

Crows 18, 22, 151, 303, 317

Crucifers 246

Crustaceans 38

Cuckoos 303

Cucurbits 286

Cudweed (everlasting) 299

Culicidae 40, 275

Cultivated fruits 18

Cultural varieties 47

Culture 25

Cup of hazel tea 144

Currants 16, 144

Curtis, Dorothy 46

Cut-grass 309

Cyanide bottle 217

Cyclopedias of Horticulture

and of Agriculture 14

Cyperaceae 68

Cypress 184

Daemon of the World 113

Daisy 55, 259, 264

Damsel-fly 40, 42

Dandelions 55, 257, 258, 259

David 52

Day in June, A 233

Deciduous shrubs 143

Deciduous trees 71

Decorative plantings 123

Deer 9,98,246,274

Deerflies 274

Deer mice 102, 152, 162

Delicacies 16

Dewberry 298

Diatoms 34, 36, 41

Dill 247

Diptera 40, 43, 183, 275

Disciplinarians 143

Dispersal 55, 66, 68, 133

Diuretic 244

INDEX

337

PAGE

Diving beetle 39

Division of labor 10

Dobson larva 39

Dobsons 40

Docks 59, 259

Dog 104,105,111

Dogbane 159

Dogwood . . 144, 146, 167, 205, 292
Domesticated animals ... 104, 105

Domesticated fowls 118

Domesticated mammals . . 104, 1 1 1

Domestication 106, 1 10

Dominant forms 294

Doorweed (goosegrass) . .259, 261

Dove 3°2

Dragon-fly 40, 42

Dried berries 18

Drouth 310

Drupes * 19

Ducks 113, H7

Dumping places 32

Dutchman's breeches 210

Dytiscus 39

Earthworms 176, 178, 282, 309

Echinocystis 288

Eden 121,237

Edible 59

Edible berries 144

Edible nuts 26

Education 12, 314, 326, 330

Eggs 118

Elateridae 182

Elder,

143, 144, 165, 205, 292, 299, 318

Elderberry 18, 20, 144

Elk 98

Elm,
73, 74, 129, 155, 170, 177, 205, 329

Elm bark 246

Elodea (Anacharis) 35

Engraver beetles 181, 182

Envelopes 14

Ephemerida 40

Epidermis 269

Esthetic values . 100, 195, 210, 219

Evergreens 90, 92

Evolution 99, 220, 265

Experience 1 1

PAGE

Faery Queen 77

Fagots 83,85

Fairyland 165, 167

Fairy tree 223

Fall planting 196

False Solomon's seal 62

Famine 105

Farm 81, 104

Farm crops 233, 268, 324

Farmer 121,126

Farm landscapes. ... 121, 223, 316

Farm operations 126

Farm stream 32

Farm woodlot 77

Father Raffeix 113

Fathers of Old, Our 243

Fats 24

Fauna 47

Feeding shelf 153

Feet 52

Fences 33, 127, 186

Fencerowi7,25, 146, 186, 189,292

Ferns 92, 206

Fertilization 213

Fertilizers 237

Fiber products. .155, 158, 159, 160

Fields 33

Fighting 42,47 59

Filberts 25 144

Fillers 292,298

Filtration plant 191

Finch 67

Fire 81, 82, 196, 212

Fire by friction 88

Fireflies 181

Fire-making 83

First Spring Day, the 1 68

Fishes 9, 32, 37, 38, 46, 47, 48

Fish culture 47

Fish food 37

Fishing 32, 46

Fishing lines 161

Flavor 16, 26, 68, 1 16

Flavoring of foods 247

Flax 159

Fleabane 294

Flesh 42

Flint 10

Floating liverwort 36

Floating riverweed 35

338

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

PAGE

Flocks 96

Flood 34,35

Flood plain 310

Flowering dogwood . . 129, 196, 225

Flowers ^ 264

Flower visiting insects 214

Fly-brushes 278

Fly larvae 183

Fly repellants 274

Fly time 274, 278

Foliage 210

Food 32, 46

Food habits 41

Food reserve 170, 233

Food stick 153

Footprints 150

Forage 47,189

Forage crops 127

Foragers 67

Forefathers 168

Forest 77, 180, 193

Forest cover. ... 17, 24, 32, 77, 205

Fountains, the 143

Fowl meadow-grass 309,310

Fowls 106, 113

Foxes 98,99

Fragrance 16, 144, 201

Freezing 34

Fresh air schools 330

Frogs 38

Frontal sinus 277

Frosts 17, 24, 30

Fruit 9, 16, 17, 127

Fruit, poisonous 243

Fruit fly 17

Fruit trees 17, 123

Fuel values 84

Fuel woods 81, 86

Fungus gnats 181, 183

Fur bearers 97

Furs 96,97

Fur trade 96

Gal^s 304

Game 9, 46, 48, 96, 1 13

Gammarus 38

Garden 9

Garden of scented herbs 249

Gardener 289

Garter snake 316

PAGE

Geese 1 13, 1 15, 1 17

General Biology 271

Gentians 292, 294

Gerard 245, 248

Gerardias 264

Giant water-bug 39

Gills 40,41

Ginger 247

Glow-wofrms 183

Goat 52, 109

Goldenrod,

206, 262, 292, 294, 299, 310, 318

Good farming 121

Gooseberry 18, 144, 298

Gophers 98, 99, 316

Goths 42

Gourds 285

Graces of form and color. ... 121

Grains 68

Grallatorial birds 117

Grandmothers 247

Gramineae 68

Grass 42, 52,

54, 68, 92, 246, 292, 302, 309

Grapes 16, 285, 287

Grape vines 170, 285

Gravelly beds 41

Gravity 33, 137, 178

Grazing 18, 196, 212

Grazing animals 52

Great bullrush 36

Great Spirit 9, 172

Greeks 108

Green, Darius 219

Green algae 34

Greenbrier 298

Green things growing. . . . 195, 327

Ground beetles 178, 181

Ground cherries 17

Ground cover 92, 176

Groundfloor 257

Ground nut 60

Ground water 191

Grouse 113, 116, 151,316

Grove 327

Guinea fowl 117

Gullies 33

Habitat 41

Hackberry 20

INDEX

339

PAGE

Halictus 215

Hallowe'en 24

Hammock nest 158

Handbook of Nature-Study 14, 1 72
Handbook of North American

Indians 163

Hard woods 82

Harris, Joel Chandler 299

Hawk 118

Hawkweed 257

Hawthorn. . .20, 56, 225, 246, 317

Hay-rope « . 155

Hazel 25, 144,292

Hazelnut 26,28

Headlands 32

Helianthus (sunflower) ... .60, 159

Hellgrammite 39

Hemiptera 40

Hemlock. . 83, 86,91, 129, 167, 234

Hemp 159

Hen. 116, 118

Hepatica 208 209, 210

Herbage 52, 70, 225

Herbage scents 247

Herbals 244, 245

Herbivores 39, 41, 42, 181

Herds 96, 121

Hiawatha's Childhood 150

Hiawatha's Sailing 155

Hibernation 66, 150

Hibiscus 155, 159, 2ii

Hickory 24, 25,

26> 73. 74» ?6, 84, 85, 129, 224

Highway 32

Hobble-bush 145

Hodge, F. W 163

Hog-peanut 62

Hogs 24, 47, 109, 274, 312

Holdfasts 287

Holland, J. G 71

Homes 10

Home sites 191, 302

Homesteads 123, 124

Honey 238, 253

Honey-bee 213, 215

Honeysuckles . . 145, 158, 286, 289

Hoofed mammals 97, 277

Hoofs 53, 54

Hooks 30

Hop clovers 240

PAGB

Hops 285. 288

Horehound 247

Hornbeam 25, 129

Horse . 106, 107, 108, no, in, 277

Horse chestnut 26

Horse flies,

39,40,275,276,277,278

Horsefly larvae 193

Horsehairs 156

Horsepower 108

Horse radish 246

House-flies 216, 278

Householder 195

Howard, Ethel Barstow 223

Human industry 121

Humus 177, 178

Hunt, Leigh 191

Hunter 59, 97, 105

Hunting dogs in

Huntsmen 113

Husbandman 105

Husbandry 10

Hybrid no

Ice-coat

Improvements 123,

Improved varieties

Indians,
9, lo, 18, 24, 96, 97, 156, 168,

Indian cucumber- root

Indian hemp

Injurious insects

Insecticide

Insect larvae

Insects 38,

Instincts

Invention of spinning

Invocation to rain

Iris 293,

Iroquois

n

32(

25
172

61
159
303
270

38
303
279
156
307
329

16

ack-in-the-pulpit 61, 209

am 18

ays 303

ellies 18

ewel-weed 69, 293

imson-weed 259

ob 205

oel 268

oe-pye-weed . 293, 310

34C

NATURAL HISTORY OP THE FARM

PAGE

'udas tree 225

uice 18

uncus 54, 292

uneberry 18, 197

unipers 91

ute 159

Kale 246

Kerosene emulsion 270

Kerrias 144

Kindling material 83

Kipling 243

Knife 13

Knots 85

Labels 14

Lace wing fly 270, 271

Lace workers 289

Ladybird 271

Lady bird beetle larva 270

Lady's slippers 211

Lamb's quarters 259

Lampyridae 183

Land fowl 113

Landscape 12, 122, 124

Lanier, Sidney 186, 237

Larch roots 155

Larcom, Lucy 121

Larvae 30

Lavender 247, 249

Lawn 146

Lead acetate 13

Leaf fall 134

Leaf hoppers 305

Leaf miners 268

Leaf mold 177

Leaf mosaics 287

Leaf skeletonizers 269

Leatherwood 155

Leeches 38

Leersia (cut grass) 309

Legumes 63

Leguminosae 68

Lemon verbena 247

Lens 13

Lentils .' . . '68

Leptidse 40, 183

Lepidoptera 40, 182

Lettuce 244

Life of Inland Waters 14

PACE

Lightning 81

Lilies 211

Limnea 38

Lincoln, Abraham 187

Linen 160

Linden .... 26, 28, 73, 76, 162, 253

Linden buds 246

Literature 107

Livestock 37, no, 127

Lloyd, J. T 14

Lobelia 200, 292, 294, 309

Logs 32, 180

Lombardy poplar 73

Longfellow 150, 155

Lonicera 145

Loom 157

Loosestrife 294

Loss of blood 279

Lotus 26

Lowell 158

Lynxes 98

Maize 10

Magnolias 253

Mallow 259

Mallow cheeses 246

Mallow, round leaved 245

Mammals 58, 1 10, 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 14

Maple 74, 129, 168, 253, 317

Maples, soft 253

Maple sap 168

Maple sugar 168

Maple wax 171

Marlatt, C. L 270

Marmion 90

Marshes 98

Marsh ferns 292, 310

Marshmallows 159, 294

Marsh marigolds 208, 211

Marsupial 99

Mason, Otis T 156

May apples 244

Mayflies 40, 42, 48

INDEX

PAGE

Mayfly nymphs 42, 193

Meadow 32,98,188,329

Meadowmice 102, 292, 311

Meadow rue 209, 294

Meadowsweet 266, 292

Meat supply 109

Medeola 61

Medicago 239

Medicines 244

Medicinal properties 68

Medics 240

Melilotus 239

Menispermum 288

Mental characteristics no

Micah 285

Mice 153,187

Midge larvae 193

Midges 40, 42, 43, 48

Midges, net veined 38, 40

Mikania 286

Milk no

Milkweed 160, 161

Millepedes 181, 282

Mine Host 302

Mink 97,102,312

Minnows 48

Mint 247, 248

Mississippi Valley 71

Mixed crops 175

Modern learning 100

Moisture loving 282

Molds 178

Mole 99, 1 02

Molluscs 38, 192

Monkey flowers 294

Moonseed 288

Moore, Emmeline 34

Moose 98

Moosewood 144

Morning Glory .258, 259, 286, 318

Mosquito 39,40, 193,274,275

Mosquito, To a 275

Mosses 35,92

Moss pink 92,209, 210

Mother earth 9, 10

Mountain ash 19, 20, 167

Mountain laurel 92

Mountain sheep 98

Mouse, To a 96

PAGE

Mouse-ear 317

Moving water 33, 137, 282

Mowing 18, 196

Mud 33

Mulberries' 16

Mule no

Mullein 55, 259, 262

Muloch, Dinah M 195

Muscid flies 40

Muscoidea 40

Mushrooms 282

Musk-mallow 247

Muskrat 97, 152

Mussel 38

Mustard 246, 259

Mutual benefit 278

Mutual helpfulness 299

Mutual pleasure 107

Muzzles 53

Mycetophilidae 183

Myriophyllum 35

Nannyberry 19, 20, 144

Narcissus 234

Narcotic 26

Natural balance 308

Natural pruning 166

Natural selectipn 54

Natural social functions 39

Native crops 9

Native mammals 97

Nature 1 1

Nature's* method 176, 198

Nature's nursery 198

Nature worship 172

Nectar 214, 238

Nesbit, Wilbur D 316

Nesting boxes 221

Nesting sites 22

Nets 217

Nettle. 159, 246

Net veined midges 38, 40

Neuroptera 40

New England 187

New Jersey 145

New York 187

Ninebark . . 144, 146, 167, 196, 198

North woods 274

Notebook 13

Noteworthy trees 128

342

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

PAGE

Notonecta 39

Novelties 123

November 66

Noyes, Alice A 37

Nursery 195, 198

Nursery row 197

Nuts 24, 30

Nut bearing trees 25

Nut hatches 153

Nut weevils 26

Nymphaea 35

Nymphs 40

Oak,

72, 129, 167, 177, 184, 205,318

black 253

family 25

red 28,74,253

white 74

woods 129

Oats 234

Odonata 40

QEstridae . .' 277

Offsets 199, 234

Oils 68,249

Oncopeltus 269

Onion 59, 234, 244

Opossum 97

Orchard 121, 213

Orioles 19, 158, 161

Oriole's nest 157

Orl flies 40

Orl-fly larva 39

Orris-root 247

Osier dogwoods 144, 167

Otters 312

Outdoor auditorium 331

Out-of-doors 90

Outlook 9, 124

Ox 106

Ox warbles 277

Ox yoke 106

Oxybaphus 258

Oxygen 36

Oyster shell scales 304

Packages 24

Panicled dogwood 144

Panicled white aster 200

Panicularia 293, 309

PAGE

Parasites 39, 181, 271

Parasitic plants 39

Paris green 269

Park 327

Parsley 248

Parsnips 59, 60

Partridge berry 92

Pastures 9, 52, 90

Pasture plants 52, 53,. 260

Patrimony 67

Pawpaw 155

Pea-fowl 117

Pearl achille 200

Peas 195

Pecan 25,26

Peck, Samuel M 66

Peltries 96

Pennyroyal 247, 248

Pentstemon 266

Peony 33

Peppergrass 246

Peppermint 247 309

Peppers 246

Perches 48

Perennials 53, 234, 293

Permanent crops 262

Persimmons 16, 17

Personal initiative 126

Pests 37

Pets 105

Phantom midge larva 43

Philotria (Elodea) 35

Physostegia 199

Pickerel 48

Pigeons 113, 114, 117

Pigs 58, io8,!ni

Pig-nut hickory 25, 28

Pig-weed 259

Pikes 48

Pillbugs 282

Pines 78, 90, 184, 205

Pine knots 83, 86

Pine stumps 90

Pine woods 129

Pioneers .9, 10, 11,66,71, 186, 192

Pistil case bearer 304

Pitchforks 257, 308

Pitch pine 90

Planarians 193

Planorbis 38

INDEX

343

PAGE

Plantains 55, 259

Plant bugs 305

Plantfibers 160

Planting time 195, 260

Plants 52

Plastering fibers 161

Playful capers 1 10

Pleasures of the palate 245

Plecoptera 40

Pliny 248

Plow 32, 106

Plum . . 16, 19

Plum curculio 17, 22

Pockets 13

Poets 72

Poison 217, 269

Poison ivy ,

13, 22, 152, 189, 246, 287

Pole beans 285

Pollen 213, 294

Pollen distribution 253

Pollen distributors 216

Polygonaceae 68

Pomes 19

Pomology 19

Pools 41

Poplar 184

Population. 67, 182, 192

Porcupines 67, 154, 169

Pork 109

Porzana ... 117

Potamogeton 34, 35

Potato ... 10, 59, 60, 235, 261, 270

Potato beetles 268

Pot hunter 115

Poultry 127

Poultry husbandry 118

Power of flight 220

Powers, Horatio H 213

Prairie hen 1 16

Prairies 71, 114, 327

Prepared bird skins 221

Prickly ash 144, 145

Primitive folk 244

Primitive language no

Products IO, 1 1

Prong horn 98

Propagating 18

Propagation 200

Proteins 24

PAGE

Provisions 58

Prunes 244

Pruning 167

Psalm 52

Psephenus 38

Pulp 19

Pulse family 68

Pumas 98

Puncturing 269

Punkies 43, 274, 278

Pure cultures 47

Puritan 66

Purselane 259

Pyrochroidse 183

Quadrupeds 68, 97

Quail : 113

Quick growing crops 24

Rabbits 98, 150,

153, 187,188,292,299,316

Rabbit's foot clover 240

Raccoon 97, 98, 100, 102, 182

Radishes 60, 195, 246

Ragweeds . 262

RaS fence •. . . 188

Rails 113

Rail splitter 187, 188

Railroads 32

Rain 33>28i

Rainy season 276

Rapids 33,34,35,36,41

Raspberry. . 16, 184, 297, 298, 317

Rat hatcheries 328

Rattans 286

Recognition characters . 40, 41 , 1 83

Red cedar 91

Red deer 98

Redman 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 191

Reindeer 150

Reservations 97, 212

Resins 82

Resources 22

Reynolds, Sir Joshua 124

344

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

PAGE

Ricciocarpus 36

Rich weed 328

Riffle-beetle 38

Riley, James Whitcomb. . .46, 296

Rill 33,318

River weed 34

Roads 127, 146

Roads, The Winding 316

Robbing the woods . . . , 211

Roberts, G. D 165

Robin. . 19, 162, 1 68, 219, 302, 309

Rock bass 48

Rodents 24

Root crops 63, 127

Rooters 58

Roots 34, 59

Roses 286,317

Roses, climbing 289

Rose geraniums 247

Rosemary 247

Rossetti, Christina C 168

Rotted logs . 86

Rubbing sticks 81, 88

Rubus 296

Ruffed grouse 116

Rule, metric-English 13

Rules for planting 200

Running water 282

Rye ?. 235

Sage 247,248

Saint John's wort 264, 294

St. Lawrence 168

Salamander 38, 178, 181, 192

Samoa 155

Sand 33

Sap flow 169, 171, 303

Sap-pits 169, 303

Sap spouts 143, 171

Sapsuckers 86, 169, 303

Sassafras 76, 85, 186, 189

Savage 81, 83, 107

Savory herbs 246

Scale insects 268, 269, 304

Scarabasidae 183

Scavengers 39

Scent bags 249

Scirpus 36, 293

Scolytidae 182

PAGE

Scott, Walter 90

Scuds 38 42, 192

Seasons 16, 233

Sedges 68, 206, 292, 309. 310

Seeds 10, 52, 197

Seed crop 66

Seedlings 196

Seed ripening 133

Seine 48

Selection 16, 25, 47, 54

Self -fertilizing flowers 62

Self-inflicted vandalism 262

Selkirk, James Brown 281

Semi-aquatics 308

Seneca 114

Senses 76

Sensitive fern 292

Sensitive Plant, the 164

Sepedon 43

Serial observations 126

Seton, Ernest Thompson .... 1 16

Sewingneedle 157

Sewing threads 156

Sexes in domestication 1 06

Shadbush 195

Shakespeare 252

Shaler 100, 104

Sheep 52, 108, 1 1 1

Sheep raising 108

Sheepshead 48

Shellbark hickory 28

Shelley 113, 164

Shellfish 46

Shells 26

Shelter 22, 48

Shepherd dogs ill

Sphaerium 192

Shoals 41 , 48

Shortcomings no

Shorthorns 47

Shrews 99, 102, 178, 188, 292, 311

Shrubs 77, 143, 204, 225, 262

Sialis 39

Signs 150

Silk 161

Silver Show 165

Simuliidae 40, 276

Simulium 276

Size 18

Skilful rider 107

INDEX

345

PAGE

Sking 9, 97

Skull cap 293, 309

Skunk 97, 98, 102, 151

Skunk cabbage 61

Skylines 122

Slaughter 99

Slime-molds 282

Slugs 282

Small fruits 19

Smith, Albert W 58

Smith, Miss Cora A 275

Snails 178

Snipe 113

Snipefly 40

Snipe-fly larvae 183

Snowberry 144

Snowbirds 151

Snow Bound 81

Snowdrops 195

Snow Coat of the trees 167

Social habits 10

Soft drink 169

Soft maple 73

Soil 9, 127

Soil conserving 175

Soil management 176

Soil mixing 175

Soil moisture 292

Solanums 63, 270

Soldier fly 40

Song birds. 146, 220, 292, 302, 313

Sorarail 117

Sorrels 246

Sow bugs 181

Spanish moss 161

Spanish needles 293, 308

Spanish proverb 257

Sparganium 36

Sparrows 153, 302

Spatterdock 35, 62

Spearmint 247, 309

Speckled alder 225

Speedwells 55

Spenser 77

Spice bush 20, 143, 144

Spiders 178

Spindle and loom 157

Spinning 155, 156, 160, 161

Spiraeas 144

Splinter 83

PACK

Sponges 38

Spreading dogwood 167

Springs 9, 32, 71, 168, 191

Spring brook 191

Spring flowers 208, 264

Spring house 191

Spring pole and snare loi

Spruce 90, 167, 224, 234

Spurge 259

Squash IO

Squirrels 24, 99, 150, 169, 317

Squirrel corn 206, 209, 234

Stable-flies 278

Stagnant 41

Stamp weed 159

Staple crops 46, 233, 324

Steel 10

Stem borers 268

Still waters 41

Sting 215

Stockades 186

Stock pens 71, 186,210

Stone fence 187

Stonefly 40, 42

Stone fruits 19

Storehouse 32

Strainers 37

Stratification of crowns 78

Stratiomyiidae 40

Strawberries 16, 17, 244

Stream 32, 33, 39, 42, 46

Stream map, a 45

String 155, 156

Strip of Blue, a 121

Struggle for existence,

ii, 197, 198,205

Stuffing fibers 161

Stump fence 187

Stupidity 262

Subcutaneous muscles 278

Submerged meadows 33

Succession of bloom 201

Sucker 48, 49

Sugarbeets 172

Sugar bush 171

Sugarcamp 172

Sugarcane 172

Sugar industry 168

Sugar maple , . .73, 170, 224

Sugar of lead 13

346

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

PAGE

Sugar trees 143

Sumac 18, 143,

144, 165, 167, 188, 224

Summer savory 247

Sun and shade 17, 200, 206

Sunfishes 47

Sunflowers 60, 264

Swale 116,291,292,310

Swale fly 43

Swamps 98, 327

Swamp azalea r . . . . 144

Swamp lilies 294

Swamp milkweed ... 159, 293, 310

Swans 113, H5

Sweet birch .76,116

Sweetbrier 247

Sweet clovers 240

Sweet fern 201, 247, 250

Sweet flag 61, 247, 293

Sweet majoram 247

Sweet pea 286

Swimming 312

Swimming holes 312

Switches 143

Sycamore 72, 74, 129, 253, 329

Sylvan picture 332

Sympathy no

Syrphidae 40

Syrphusfly 40,215,270,272

Tabanidae 40, 277

Tabb, John B 174

Table fishes 47

Tadpoles 38,30?

Tamarack 155, 224

Tame animals 100

Tannin 177

Tapping 171

Taro 61

Tea 248

Teasel 55, 3*7

Telephone 82

Tendrils 287

Tennyson 220

Tent caterpillar 304

Textiles 96, 160

Textile art 157

Textile products 159

Thanksgiving 66

Thickets 17

PAGE

Thistle 55, 160, 257, 259

Thompson, Maurice 291

Thorns 12

Thrush 302

Thyme 247, 248

Tillage 10,32,58,71,139,175

Timber 9, 32

Timber crops 127

Timothy 55

Tipulidae 40, 183

Top fire 84

Topography 15, 138

Tools 9, 13,30,86

Touch-me-not 69

Tow 159, 161

Tracks 151 , 309

Traditions 10, 68, 244

Tragedy 150

Trainedhorse 107

Trampling / 54, 197

Transportation 32, 53, 212

Trapping 100

Traps 48

Tread mill 106

Tree forms 72

Trees 24,52,71,134,180,253

Tree saps 170

Tabanidae 40

Trifolium 240, 253

Trillium 206, 208, 209

Trouts 48

Trumpet vine 286, 287

Tubers 60

Tubifex 193

Tulip tree 74, 76, 129, 253

Turf 53

Turkey 114,117

Turkey gnats 37

Turnips 60

Turnspit 106

Turtle >. 38

Turtleheads 264, 266, 309

Tussock sedges 292, 309

Tuttle, Olive N 238

Twig pruners 30

Twiners 287, 288

Twines 156

Typha 36

INDEX

347

PAGE

Umbelworts 247

Uncle Remus 299

Undergrowth 206

Upholstering fibers 161

Urtica 159

Useful birds 19

Valerian 246

Vandals 42

Varieties 18

Vegetable flavorings 246

Vegetation 38

Vegetative offshoots 294

Vermin 187

Vertigo 277

Virburnum 19, 143, 144

Views of the farm 128

Vigilance ... QQ

TT" •'^

Vines,
13, 17, 188, 189, 201, 225, 285, 329

Vineyards 285

Violet 208, 209, 210, 332

Virginia creeper 286, 287, 317

Virgin's bower 286, 318

Vistas 124

Voices no

Walking-sticks %. . 143

Walnut 24, 25, 26, 76, 187

Wanton slaughter. '. 97

War 108

Washington, George 128

Washington Elm 128

Wasteland n, 291

Water beetles 40

Water boatman 39

Water bugs 40

Watercress 192

Waterfalls 36

Waterfowl 113, 115, 117

Watergarden 47

Water hemlock 60

Water horn wort 35

WateT milfoil 35

Water mint 249, 309

Water moths 40

Water shamrock 329

Watershield 35

Water skaters 307

Water world 39, 46

PAGE

Waxwings 19, 22

Weapon 10, 71

Weasels 98,102

Weather 12, 13

Weeds 53, 146, 157, 262, 296

Westwood, Thomas 302

Whirling bob 157

White birch 72, 223

White clover 55, 238

White grubs 181, 183

White man 9> 97

White Oak 28, 225

White pine. .90, 129, 187,225,318

White water lily 35

Whitman, Walt 175

Whittier, J. G 81

Wild animals . . . 100, 105, 150, 188

Wild apples 17

Wildbeasts 186

Wild boar no

Wild carrot 167

Wild Cherry 20

Wild choke-cherry 19

Wild currant 184

Wild ducks 115

Wild fishes 47

Wild flower preserve 327

Wild fowls 1 13, 1 15, 1 17

Wild fruits 16, 17, 20, 22

Wild ginger 209, 210

Wild grape 20, 189, 286, 287

Wild life 326

Wild mammals 96, 100

Wild nuts 24, 29

Wild perennials 200

Wild pigeon 1 13, 1 14

Wild rice 68, 113

Wild roots 59

Wild rose 144, 299

Wild strawberry 92

Wild things 11,12,300,319

Wild turkey 115

Wildwoodio, 16, 122, 195, 201, 327

Willis, Nathaniel Parker 208

Willow,

73, 165, 184, 225, 292, 329

Willow herb 308

Willow rods 143

Wind 24

Winding roads 316

348

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

PAGE

Window garden 247

Wind sown seed 184

Wine 285

Winter 71

Winter activities 150

Winterberry 144

Winter colors 201

Winter conditions 132

Winterfeeding 153

Wintergreen 92, 247

Winter verdure 90

Wire rack 87

Wire rush 54

Wire worms 181, 182

Witch hazel .69, 144, 146, 167, 197

Wolverine 97

Wolves 98

Womankind 81

Wood 52, 144

Woodbine 13, 189, 286

Wood borers 181

Woodchuck .... 100, 102, 150, 299

PAGB

Woodcock 113

Woodcraft 9, 151

Wood crop 211

Wood grasses 206

Woodlands 121

Woodlot 77,|86, 123,211

Woodpeckers 153, 182, 302

Woodsmen 71, 84, 151

Woody climbers 287

Wool 108, 160

Wordsworth, William .... 123, 264

Worms 26

Wormseed 259

Wrens 302

Yarrow 55,259

Yellow birch 83, 84, 86, 184

Yew 91

Yewberry 20

Yucca 156, 157

Zoological parks 98

RETURN TO the circulation desk of any

University of California Library

or to the

NORTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY
Bldg. 400, Richmond Field Station
University of California
Richmond, CA 94804-4698

ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS
2- month loans may be renewed by calling

(510)642-6753
1-year loans may be recharged by bringing books

to NRLF
Renewals and recharges may be made 4 days

prior to due date

DUE AS STAMPED BELOW

APR 3

20,000 (4/94)

J

346507

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY

hi;!?! i!i:i!!i!!ii!if!!l I Wwm