iiiiiiiil^ 'liiiiii rHE NATURAL 1 OF:tHE,a| Che H. H. i-iiU iCiltnmt Xortli (iTaniliiia §f;iti- QTullrqe QH&l ' H4 QP81 4898':' DATS This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE CENTS a day thereafter. It is due on the day indicated below: t is due on t 48987 lii ur ISJan'SS 12Jun'59s 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 0'' PROFESSOR OF LIMNOLOGY, GENERAL BIOLOGY AND NATURE STUDY IN CORNELL UNIVERSITY. ITHACA, xN. Y. THE COMSTOCK PUBLISHING COMPANY 19 16 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 imto your naked lands. — L. 11. Bailey. COPYRIGHT, 1914 BY THE COMSTOCK PUBLISHING COMPANY PRESS OF W. F. HI.-MPHREY. GENEVA, N. 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 cotirse. 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 tlie student shall have something to show for his time, a definite form of record is suggested for each practical exercise. In order to encom-age spontaneity, a ntmiber of individual exercises are included which the student may pursue independently. The studies heie offered are those that have proved most useful, or that are most tv]^ ical, or that best illustrate field-work methods. ^^^^^ ^^ enough work in some of them for more than sJ^^/^^^np : 6 HISTORY OF I-ARM many of thcin will bear rc'itclilion with new materials, or in new situations. li^aeh one includes a brief introductory sUitcment to be read, and an outline of work to be i)CTf<)nned. In all of them, it is the doing of the work outlined- not the mere readin.i^ of the text— that will \-ield satisfactor\' educa- tional results. The work of this course is not new. Mucli work of this .sort has been done, and well done, as nature-stud>', in\arious institutions at home and abroad. But here is an attempt to intcj^atc it all, and to show its relation to the sources of our livinj,'. 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- hcx^d and of personal satisfaction in all ages. These are the tilings we have to live with: they are the things we ha\'e to li\e b\-. They feed us and shelter us and clothe us and wann us. They equip us with implements for manifold tasks. They endow us with a thousand delicacies aiul wholesome comforts. They unfold before us the cease- less drama of the e\'cr-changing seasons — the informing drama of life, of which we arc a part. And when, in our rude fanning o])erations, we scar the face of nature to make fields and houses and stock pens, they oiler us the means whereby, though changed, to make it green and golden again— a fit enviromnent wherein to dwell at peace. In the belief that an acquaintance with these things would contribute to greater contentment in and enjoN'ment of the farm surroundings and to a better rural life, this course was yircpared. 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. II. Comstock. To both these good naturalists, and to all thos.' who ha\'e hel] ed me as assistants, I am greatly indebted for valuable .suggestions. J.\.\Ii:S Ci. XliEDHAM. CONTENTS Preface . Contents page 5 . " 7 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 ^^ 16 ^^ ^^ 2 ^^ ^^ 3. The wild nuts of the farm ^^ 24 ^^ ^^ 3 „ ^" 4. The farm stream ^^ 32 ^^ ^^ 4 ,, 4 5. The fishes of the farm stream .,46^^ ^^ 5 ^^ 4° 6. Pastureplants - f « " " 7 " 62 7. The wild roots of the farm ^^ g ^, ,^ 7 „ ^;f 8. The November seed-crop ,. ,< « « ^a 9. The deciduous trees in winter ^^ 71 ,, „ 9 ,, /o 10. The farm wood lot ^^ 77 ,, ,, ^^ „ 79 11. The fuel woods of the farm ^^ «i ^^ ,, Ji „ °" 12. Winter verdure of the farm ^^ 90 ^, ,. ^^ ^^ y^ 13. The wild mammals of the farm ... ^^ 96 ^^ ^, i3 ^, J"" 14. The domesticated mammals ^^105 ^^ ^^ 14 „ ^^ 15. The fowls of the farm ^/I3 ^, ,, J5 ,, J^V 16. Farm landscapes 121 10 ^ 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 ,^ 125 4. Autumnal coloration and leaf fall ^, 132 5. A calendar of seed dispersal ^^ 33 PART IL STUDIES FOR THE SPRING TERM: February-May. 17. The lay of the land : page 137. with study i7onpage 141 18. The deciduous shrubs of the farm ]] 143 ,^ i» H7 1 9 . Winter activities of wild animals . . ^ ^ 150 ^ ^ 20. Fiber products of the farm || I55 ^^ 21. A coating of ice \^ 164 ^^ 22. Maple sap and sugar .•••., ^^ ,< 23. Nature's soil conserving operations ^^ I75 ^^ 24. The passing of the trees ^^ 180 ^^ 25. The fence row ^, 186 ^^ 26. A spring brook ^9^ 19 154 20 " 162 21 " 166 22 " 172 23 " 179 24 " 148 25 " 190 26 - 193 OF THH 1-ARM i. 195 wi til study 27on paK^e 202 ' 205 " 28 " 207 ' 208 " 29 " 212 •213 " .¥) " 216 ' 219 " M " 221 * -^23 " 32 " 226 • NATl-RAL HISTORY 97. Nature's offerings for spring f)lanting p 28. A cut-over wocxl-l.ind thicket .... 29. Wilt! spring fltiwcrs of tlie fanii . . . 30. What goes on in the ai^ple lilos.snnis 31. The song birds of the fann 32. The early .summer landscape .... Individual Exercises for the Spring Term (Optionals) 6. A c.ilendar of bird return page 228 7. A calendar of spring growth " 229 8. A calendar of spring flowers " 229 9. .\«)teworthy 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 sea.son page 233, with Study 33 on page 236 34. The clovers "237 " " 34 " 241 35. Wild aromatic herbs of the fann. . . " 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 32 1 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 i"^^'^ ::.:.;::;::;: 333 I. MOTHER EARTH "Brother, listen to what we say. There vjas a time when our forefathers oivned this greit land. Their seits 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 hear and the be iver. 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.'' — "P* om the g'-e-it 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 estabhshing 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 Library H. C, State CoUeg© ,0 NATURAL HISTORY OF Till-: FARM and shears were of steel. Their chief dependence for food was placed in cereals and vegetables whose seeds they brought \nth them from across the seas. Their social habits were those of a peoj^le that had long known the arts of tillage and husbandry: their ci\-iIizalion was based on settled homes. But they brought with them into the wilderness only a few wea|X)ns, 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 w^re indeed children ( -f natiu*c, 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 ha\-e 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 iii order to realize how you have lost connection, you step out into the wildwood empty- handed, and look about }'OU. Choose and say what }'ou will have of all you see bcf(ire you for your next meal? Where will you find your next suit of clothes and what will it be like? Ah, could you even im^^rovisc a wrap])ing, and a string with which to tie it, fn^m what wild nature offers you? These are degenerate days. One h;ul to know things in order to live in the days of the pioneer and the Inrlian. But MOTHER EARTH ii 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 otir 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 otu: 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 n_iLurc. Thus, one may re-acquire some of that ancient fund of real knowledge that was once necessary to 12 N.Vl TRAL HISTORY OF rm> \'-\^<^^ jur race, and that is still fumhuncntal to a ^'-our own hands handle these wild things. The records you make will be of value to you only as you wTitc into them your own experience: \ATite nothing else. Suggestions to students : The regular held work contemplated in this course makes certain demands with which indoor labora- tor>' 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 c\'cr 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, ])lain and comortable. There are thorns in nature's garden that will tear thin stuffs and reach out after an>-thing detach- able; and there are burs, that will cling persistently to loose-woven fabrics. Kid gloves in cold weather and high heels at all e = Fig. 1. Metric and English linear mL-asure. MOTHER EARTH 13 times are an utter abomination. Clothing suited to the weather will have very much to do with your enjoyment of it and with the eriiciency 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 a])pear 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 inlv. 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 shoiild 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 Till- FARM seeds, studied in the lielil. will be very desirable. You will want to take another l'where fulfill an important dictar>' 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 obserAxs. 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 festi\-al ! Then come the currants and the raspberries and the cherries and the builalo-berries and the mulberries and the plums and many others in a long succession, the season ending with the grapes, the a]^])les. the cranberries and the persin^mons. The wild fruits ha\'e their requirements also as to climate, soil, moisture, etc.. and these we must obser^x if wc culti\'ate 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. The}^ 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 sour, pleasant and bitter, wholesome and poisonous. They mellow in the sun like apples, or sweeten with the frosts like persimmons. They hang exposed like plums, or are hidden in husks like ground-cherries. The edible ones that remain growing wild in the autumn are a rather poor lot of l8 XATIRAL HISTORY OF T!IH FARM small and seedy kinds, that ha\ e been hardy enough to hold their owti, in spite of mowing and grazing and clearing. They compare ]:)oorly\\4th the selected and cultivated pro 1- 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 ^\'inter beverage. The cultivated fruits are but a few of those that nature has offered us. We have chosen these few on account of their size, their quality, and their ])roductive- 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 fc:)r them. Our management has consisted, in the main, of ])ropagating from the best varieties tliat 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 19 Fig. 4. Diagrams of and stone fruit, (b). 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 (^omw5 = 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 apex of the apple, closed p^^^ f^^i^- («)• 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 mach 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- berries or robins gormandizing on buffalo-berries or waxwings Pig. 5. Wild chokecherry (PrawM5 5^.?) cfn'-r>-rvincr a mnnnffli-n fl^Vl ran and nannyberry (Viburnum lentago). StHppmg 0, mOUUXam asn, Cdn 20 EDIHLI-: WILD FRUITS Name Kind of Plant' Type of Fruit' No. Seeds Cluster of PruiU Si 1. Crab Apple 2. Ihiwthorn 3. Mountain Ash 4. Wild Cherry 5. Chokft hirry • f), Xannybt-rry 7. Spicelnish 8. Hackbern.' i 0. \Vii,i Crape 10. ]{Mcri)crry 11. Harbcrry 12. ^'cwbcrry l.'i. 14. 'Tree, shrub, vine, etc. -Pome, drupe, berry, etc. ^Dimensions in millimeters. •Diagram. 21 OF THE FARM Proportion of Pulp Used for What' Taste Animals eating it^ Remarks 1 2 3 4 6 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 iLeave blank unless you have personal knowledge. ^Specify 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 Hke cedar berries, and crows eat freely the fruit of poison i\'y. The close-growing habit of wild bush fniits 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 WUd 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 WTitten in the columns of a table prepared with headings as indicated in pp. 20 and '' 21. The fruits named in the first cI;S:.t-,Iu':Z\t:Vl^e column are those commonly found SloSrw^ife^hi.;? wl^"y': 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, i, 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) carliness; (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 quahties we Hke). 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. Till:: MTS 01- Till: 1 ARM "The iiuld ^uidu'ife's weel-hoordet nils Arc round an' round divided." —Robert Bums (Uallow-een). Nature ]>uU up some of her ]oroducts in neat packages for keepini:. Anionj^ the choicest of them, preserA'ed in the neate-^t and most sanitar}^ of containers, are the nuts. Rich in proteins and fats, finely flavored, and with a soft appetizing fra^ance. these strongly appeal to the palate of man and man\- 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 l:K>ttnm; the oil floated, and was skimmed from the surface. Most nuts mature m autumn. A heav>-, early frost, and then a high \\and, 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 fanning, we ha\'e neglected them for quicker-growing cTops. 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 chc^nut or walnut tree is allowed to ^ NUTS OF THE FARM 25 Pig. 7. The pig-nut hickory (Hickoria glabra) ; the whole nut, a cross section of same, and the nut in its hulls (after Mayoj. occup}^ space in the comer of the barnyard or in the fencerow, and there, reHeved 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 tions^of^twc^typefof euclosiug the smooth but compact seed. wSSnonipfu- Certain other members of the oak family, as nufw^thfoir^vate ^^^ hombcams, produce nuts that are too **"^- small to be worthy of our consideration as 26 NATL KAL HISTORY OF THE FARM <>>- ■*? ^i^^ u-/ ■.->- >l^ t^'v Fig. 9. The hazel nut (Corylus atnericanits) ; and a kernel in the half -shell (after Mayo). nuts in thf hull, food. A tow 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 hickor>', ha^'e 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 "wonns" living inside the hulls and feed- ing on the kernels are the larvos of the nut-weevils. These are snout-beetles Fir. 10. Leaf outline , ,. , . , ^ j and nutlets of the unden. that live exclusivcly upoH 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 chestnnt-weevil (Balaninus proboscideus) : fl, adult; 6, 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 I Height Name ' Kind of Plant« j^ feet^ Shellhark Hickory Pignut Bittemut Butternut Walnut Chestnut Beechnut Hazelnut White- ( >:ik Chestnut Oak Red Oak Linden Buckeye PLANTS PRODUCING LEAVES Form' Size* Margin' Tree, shrub, f)r herb. Muill, ai)])r()xiniatc. Diagram. Width by length in inches; of a single leaflet, if compound. 29 WILD NUTS AND ACORNS. NUTS: Character of Hulls Shells Kernel Animals eating it^ Quality* ^ Specify whether foraging on it or Hving within ' Palatability, oiliness, starchiness, acridity, etc. 3© NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM from the egg finds there a ready-made passage do^^^l to its food. The larvae have done their destructive work when the nuts fall . They are full-gro\\'n and are ready to leave the nuts and enter the ground, there to complete their trans- formations. An easy way to get the lan^ae, and at the same time to learn the extent of their infestation, would be to gather a few cjuarLs of chestnuts or acorns freshly fallen from the trees, :uui put them in glass jars to stand awhile. The lar\'ae ea\'ing 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 iu less than a fortnight all will be out, and may be counted. These, and twig-pruners and bark-beetles, etc., all have Lu be reckoned with in the orchard where nuts are cultivated. In this study we will gn\-e 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 hainmers 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 drawhig 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 OP 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. r\'. THE FARM STREAM "All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; uuto the place Jrom 'ivhetice 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 c(3uld be grown and more forage for cattle. The fishes of the streams became less necessary for food; and \vith 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 su])ply of water was interfered with as the water- holding forest cover was destroyed and springs dried u]). They became dumping places for the refuse of all sorts of establishments along their banks. Not even their beaut\' 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 asj^halt pavement. Before the surveyor came along, lines were laid down according to the law of gravity. The land was divided and subdivided, not by fences, but by streams. Chief among the agencies that have shaped our farms is the power of moving water. By it the soils have been mixed and sifted and spread out. Water runs down hill, and the soils move ever with it. With every flood, a portion is carried a little way, to be dropped again as the current slackens, and another portion is carried farther, to mix with soils from various distant sources and form new fields at lower levels. Small fields are forming now in the beds and borders of every stream. And there, even as on land, some of them are ex- posed, shifting and barren, and others are sheltered and set- tled and productive. The rain descends upon the fields and starts down every slope, gathering the loosened soil particles, collecting in rills, increasing in volume, and cutting gullies and picking up loosened stones, and pouring its mixture of mud and stones into the creek at the foot of the slope. Then what does the creek do with this flood-time burden? Go down to its banl<:s and see. See where it has dropped the stones in ttmibled 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 fiats are least subject to further disttirbance 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 THK PLANT LIFE OF THE STREAM The rapids are by no means destitute of life. Given natural ^IV~^ i^ Py r^^ 1^ 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 simpl>- Drganized j^lants, 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 prevaiHng color is brown, not green. Its dominant plants are diatoms. These form a soft, gelatinous, and xoxy 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 sui iply for a host of animals dwelling in the stream bed with them. There are green algec also in the rapids. The most con- si)icuous 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) Frnm a drawing by Miss Emmcline Moore. THE FARM vSTREAM 35 the swiftest ciin'ent, 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 algse 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. 1 2 and 13) 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 surface in the more sheltered openings. And there are many rooted in the Fig. 13. Leaf-form in three common sub- merged plants whose leaves grow in whorls surrounding the stem at the nodes: a, the common water-weed (Elodea canadensis or Philotria canadensis) ; 6, the water horn- wort {Ceratophyllum denr'rsum); c, the water milfoil {Myruy- phylLum). Fig. 14. Outlines of four common kinds of floating leaves: a, the floating river- weed (Potantogeton natans) ; b, the spatter-dock (Nymphcea advena) ; c, the white water- lily {Caslaillia odorataj; d, the water shield {Brasenia peltata). 36 NATIR.M. HISTORY OF THE FARM ? Pig. 1'». Floating plants: a. duckweeds; 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 1 6. Algae are common b. the floating liverwort {Ricciocarpus natatis). of these are sho^^Tl in Figure enough here also. Bro\\ii 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 li\'e 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 lar\-a, occurs in such numbers as to form conspicuous black patches in most exposed places — on the very edge of the stones that fonn the brink of waterfalls and on the sides of obstructions in the current. Individually these lar\'ae are small (half an inch long), with bag-sha] ed bodies, swollen toward the rear end, where attached b\' 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 larv'ae spin at- tachment threads by f,g. le. Aquatics that rise from standing means of which they may ^.h^s;;:.c'^flJ^u?o""^;?,JS■,;f;";^'hi bSi change location. The j- Fig. 20. Some common crustaceans and molluscs: crawfish, with the asellus at thc I'^ft and the scud (Gammarus) at the ri^ht; — also, a mussel and two snails; (LimiKta, on the left, and Planorbis on the right). THE FARM STREAM 39 Fig. 21. Adult aquatic insects: a, the back-swimmer (Nolonecta); 6, the water-boatman (Corixa); c, a diving- beetle (Dytiscus); d, a giant water-bug (Benacus). be seen without a lens and too num- erous even to be mentioned here. The water is hke another world of life, containing a few forms that are directly useful to us and many more 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 natiu-al 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 : ^ and here, as else- Co'^to/omus (after 'Helen Wiiliamson Lyman) • fc a .^^^.U^^p hplbivorCS dobsun larva, or hellgrammite. Coryda/ts cor«Mering into body wanting free with swimming fin of fringed hairs free with caudal ventral aUachment disk free tufts of hairs small, free floating hairs acutely tapering tapering body tapering, retractile with two short taper- ing tails minute extensile process as long as the body rudimentary truncated 41 forms of aquatic insects in their immature stages. are printed in italics. are not remarkably different from the adults. The wings develop externally Gills many, minute, around bases of the legs 7 pairs on hack 3 leaflike caudal gill- plates internal gill chamber at end of body wanting Other Peculiarities immense grasping lower lip immense grasping lower lip jointed beak for punc- turing and sucking Habitat rapids all waters slow and stagnant waters slow and stagnant waters all waters Pood-habits mainly carnivorous mainly herbivorous 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 a pair of fleshy pro legs with numerous claws on them do., with paired larger hooks at tip a long tapering tail paired hooked claws variable see next table Other Peculiarities mostly living in port- able cases head small, often ap- parently wanting Habitat Food Habits still waters herbivorous all waters mostly herbivorous gravelly beds carnivorous all waters carnivorous slow or stagnant waters carnivorous all waters see next table guished from aquatic larvae of other groups by the absence of true legs. Fleshy Legs, or Pro LEGS variable wanting wanting one beneath the mouth / in front, 2 at rear end of body wanting wanting stout paired beneath j wanting usually wanting Other Peculiarities Habitat flat lobed body with row of ventral suckers swollen thoracic seg ments "fans" on head for food-gathering live mostly in soft tubes depressed form tubercle covered spin- dle-shaped body shoals rocks in falls pools (at surface) rocks in rapids all waters still water (at surface) beds in pools rapids under stones shallow pools Food Habits herbivorous mostly diatoms, etc. herbivorous herbivorous herbivorous herbivorous carnivorous carnivorous 42 NATLRAI. HISTORY OF Till: FARM Fig. 23. Immature statjes of four common neuroptcrous insects: a, ailragon-fly (.4 wax Junius ; b, a damsel-fly iAmphiagrion amphion); c, a stone-fly fAcroneuria sp?)\ -ei/;ra); 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 colimm headings as follows: Name (this will be supplied by the instructor) . Grows where (that is, in which of the situations examined) . Depth of ^ater (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 colimm headings as follows: Name (this will be supplied by instructor, if needed) . Lives where (in which of the situations examined). 44 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM At what depth (approximate). Eats what (your own specific observations rather than general data taken from table). Habits of locomotion (walking, swimming, looping, etc.). Remarks. IV. A suinmaiy and comparison of the chief differences between the several situations, and of the differences in abundance and kind of plant and animal inhabitants. V. Till-: 1' [SHI'S OF THK FARM STREAM "I'o dangle your legs uhcre the fishing is good Can't you arrange to come do'tvni'" — 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, cra\vfish, 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 i^lenty 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 ha\'e not taken measures adequate to its preser\^ation. We have cared for the crops of the field and the Fig. 26. DiaRram of a fish (the black bass) with the fins named on the diagram: ventral Jin is also'called pelvic. Drawing by Mi'^^ ?->...,,th- rurtis. 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 been made with cattle and hogs, what fine table fishes we should have; and everybody might have them in his owti 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 TUL FARM V Fig. I'S. 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 Ihe ]nke (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 do\\Ti accordingly. The best of them are cami\'orous and eat habitually other smaller fishes. The rock bass seems to prefer crawfishes as food. Most of them eat the lar\^ae of may-flies and midges, though the pikes demand bigger game. The sheepshead eats mol- luscs, crushing the shells with its flat-topped molarlike teeth. Fishes are among the most beautiful of living things. Their colors are splendid. Their motions are all easy and graceful. Their habits are most interesting and varied. Nearly all the common forms are included in six or seven families : the catfishes, the trouts, the pikes (including the pickerel), the suckers, the minnows (including the huge caq:)), the perches, and the sunfishes (including the basses) . It is the ]3ur]X)se 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 drawTi, 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 Hving 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. 50 RECOGNITION CHARACTERS Name Sise Length* Ra.tio' Form* Scales^ Mouth* ' Length (when grown) in inches. ' Ratio of depth to length. ' CyUndrical, depressed, or compressed. ■♦ Large or small or wanting 5 Large or small, terminal or inferior. OF CASCADILLA FISHES 51 FINS Dorsal^ Caudal^ Pelvic^ REMARKS ^ Diagram side view. ^ Thoracic or abdominal. VI. iWSTURL PLANTS "Thou crcKcnest the year with thy goodness; and thy paths drof) fatness. They drop upon the pastures of the unlderness: 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 n'salm 65:11-131. Before there were tilled fields, there were green pastures. The grazing animals made them. They cropped the tall vegetation and tram])led the succulent herbage, and pasture grasses s]Drang up and flourished in their stead. \\Tierever there wore 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 li\'e long even where they can grow but little. So we find them growing ever^^vhere, flourishing in the light, hanging on in the shadow, as if waiting for a chance — even in the deep shadow of the woods. Cut do^vn the trees, and the grasses appear. Keep all the taller plants cut down, and the grasses spread and fonn 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 \\'ider 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 pastiire plants are all low-growing perennials, that spread over or through the soil and take root widely, and that are uninjiu-ed 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 ttirf 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 low^er jaw). Hear the grass break at the joints, and tear and squeak as inter- nodes are mthdrawn from their sheaths. Then pull some grass by hand, and observe that while single leaves may break anywhere, the stems for the most part break at the joints, which are so formed that little injury to the plant results. The parts necessary for re-growth remain attached to the soil and uninjured. Then try the tops of any common garden weeds, and observe that, for the most part, they pull bodily^ out of the ground. Herein appears one of the characteristics of good pasture plants: they must be able to withstand cropping — even close cropping. Then watch the old cow's hoofs as she walks about over the turf. See how they spread when she steps in a soft place. Look at her tracks and see how the sharp edges of her hoofs have divided the turf and spread the roots and underground 54 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM stems of the grass asunder. If broken, take up the pieces and obsen'C that each is provided witli its own roots. Thus, a moderate amount of trampling:: only serA'es to ])ush the grasses into new territory. Think liow disastrous in comparison would be the descent of this b(n'ine's hoofs H])on 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. Tliis 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 pemianent pastures are all grasses. Indeed, the very best of them arc 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. Pig. .■?0. The wire rush (J uncus 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 (b): 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 imderground 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 matuue 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 XATURAl. HISTORY OF THK FARM There is one tree that regularly in\'adcs our neglected pastures. It is the hawthorn. The cattle browse on it, but thc\- leave a remnant of new growth every }'ear. So its increase is ver>' slow until it gets beyond their reach — slow but sure. All the while its dense cone of stubs is shaped smooihl)' as in a lathe. Rut once emancipated from their browsing, it suddenly expands upward into the nomial form of the s])reading hawthorn tree. Study 6. Pasture Plants Am- old ])asture will do for this: the more neglected, the more interesting its population is likely to bo. The equip- ment needed is merely something to dig witli. Let all the work be done individually. The program of work will consist in digging up one by one, first the f<^rage 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 prcdctennined breaking points. Observe their mode of spreading through the soil. Trample them, espec- iall\' 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 stud}- 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 tlieir 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. \'ir. Tin: kdiim.h wild roots ui' Tin-: iwrm "The sunshine floods (he fertile fields Where shining seeds are sown, And lo, a miracle is icrouiiht; 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 minpje 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 j^ro visions — hides them under<;round.. Slie puts them up in mold-proof package-^, 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 soU and those that can root. The burrowers are numerous, and of very different sorts. They all ha\'e 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, hap[)ily placed on the end of the n )se, where it is backed by all the pushing I)Ower of a stout body, and where it is directed in its operations by the aid of very keen olfactories. This is a most efficient equipment for digging. If any- Fig. 32. Nature's most efScient implement of tillage. But, alas! a little bit of metal ring thrust into the sensitive base of the "rooter" renders this beautiful contrivance inoperative, reduces the efficiency of his pipship to the com- mon level of mamma- lian kind, and leaves him endowed only with his appetite. THE EDIBLE WILD ROOTS OF THE FARM 59 thing good to eat is buried in the earth, trust to a normal pig to find it. The wild ruminants also dig to a certain extent with the hoofs of their fore feet. Digging for roots has been in all ages an important and necessary occupation of mankind. Once it was done by everybody. For ages it was the work of women, while men, in the division of labor, assmned 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 oo NA'I'L'RAL 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. t,^) are very ])oison- 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 crojD in cash value. And an acre of potatoes ma>- ]jroducc as much human food as ten acres of wheat. The only other native tuber that is extensively cultivated is that of the arti- choke {Hclianthus tnherosns) 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 suinmer. There is another native tuber, however, of great promise : it has higher nutriti^'e value than the potato and is very ]jalatable; it is the so-called groundnut {Apios hihcrosa). The plant is a vine, that grows in moist thickets and clambers over low bushes. It bears brownish purple, \'iolet-scented, papilionaceous flowers in dense clusters in mid- simimer. The tubers are borne on slender underground stems, often a number in a row, and arc roundish or pear- shaped, very solid, and when cut, exude a milky juice, like a sweet potato. Doubtless, this \'aluablc 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 oin* 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 mdely 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 XATl'RAL HISTORY oF THE FARM Fig. 16.6); its chaniu'il ])r()iluct, "calamus root." Dried it is often nibbled by school children, and it is candied by their mothers, es]M'(iall\- in Xcw Eni^land. and ser\'ed as a condi- ment. There area number of other native "roots" of semi-aquatic plants tliat were eaten by the aborigines. The bij^'gest ' '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 muslvrat, 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 moiwica, 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 t\vining vine on low bushes in the edges of thickets. It produces pale blue flowers in racemes along the upper ]3art 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 ])roduce there mosth' one-seeded, roundish, fleshy pods about half an inch in diameter. These are the hog i)eanuts. Fig. 3.">. A portion of a vine of the hog peanut, bearing both flowers and seed pods. Fig. 3G. 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 oe found growing as weeds in the field. The native root crops will have to be sought in the woods and thickets and in swampy places. The equipment needed will be a knife, a bag and a stout digging tool of some sort. The program of work will consist of a trip to selected places where the wild roots may be 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 soHd bulb or corm; (4) a fleshy rhizome; and (5) a true fleshy root. Fig. 37. Apios Tuberosa. (Drawn by C. P. Alexander) 64 EDIBLE WILD ROOTS NAME Kind of Plant' Grow* Where Nature "Root 'Tree, shrub, herb vine etc aquatic, climbing, etc. 'Root, tuber, bulb, corm, rhizome, oflfset, etc. 65 OF THE FARM Fonn^ and Size4 Qualities Uses Remarks Diagram. Length X width in mm. x'lii. Till-: xoviCMiuoR si-:i:o-cRc)P " ' lis all a myth that Autumn grieves For, list the 'ciud among the sheaves; Far sweeter than the breath of May." — Samuel M. Peck (Aulumti- Mirth). November, in our latitude, is nature's season of plenty. Her work of cro]) ])roduction is done. Living is cjusy for all her creatures. The ini]irovident may ha\'c 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 arbitrar}^ 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 tiun are ven' 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 nmways and never find them again, and these lost seeds are favorabl\' situated for growth at the proper season. It is only a remnant of them that ^^ill 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 siimmer climes. There remain to be fed through the winter onl}^ a small pro- portion of the birds and a larger proportion of the miammals, 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: c, 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 XATL'RAL HISTORY OF THE FARM seeds, but we have not learned their cuUurc. We have been satisfied \\'iththe 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 {Crami- neae): the seeds of sedges (Cypcraceae) , if edible, should perhaps be included; and there is one seed of very difTcrent 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 (Legnminosae), 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 arc of interest to us solely on account of the ver>^ special ways in which they contribute to the preservation of the species, by providing for their own dispersal . Some are armed w4th 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 i)lace in which thc>' grow. THE NOVEMBER SEED-CROP 69 Pig. 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 imibelwort knowm 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 need^ 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 raaking 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 oiu* 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 ntunberless manu- factured products of the present day. Our need of tree products has multiplied inordinately, but our ways of getting these have become circuitous. When an implement or a utensil of wood is placed in our hand, all shaped and polished and varnished, we scarcely think of the trees as its source. 71 72 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM The trees have not changed, but our relations wnth 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 s>inbols 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 ^^^nter, 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 grou]3ing of the branches, the size and stoutness and position of the twigs, that are obscured b}' simimer 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 thoy 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 arc a few deciduous trees that arc 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 an 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 Fig. 40. Diag^ram illustrating the characteristics of form in some common trees: o, 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 structtiral 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 d Fig. 41. Dia- gram of forms of leaf scar, and of grouping of bundle scars on twigs of: a, catalpa;&, black ash; c, horse chestnut ; d, mockernut hic- kory; e, black walnut. 74 RECOGNITION CHAI^VCTERS OF Growth Habit Bark (mature) NAME Color Fissures* Surface Layers' Dianj.» Oiik. White Oak. Red Tlickon'" Chestnut Butternut Beech Birch' Maple' Elm" Ash' Basswood Sycamore TuHji Tree 7^ 1^ ' Vertical or horizontal, simple or forking, deep or shallow, narrow ur wide, etc. ' Hard or soft, adherent or loose, shedding in strips or in bits, etc. 3 Smallest diameter of an average twig in mm. 'Specify which kind. j^ Another kind of tree of your own selection. DECIDUOUS TREES IN WINTER 75 Twigs Misc. Buds Color Form Arrange- ment* Leaf Scars ^ Other Peculiarities* * Peculiarities of form and color, lenticels, pith, etc. 5 Sketch in simple outline. ^ Opposite or alternate. ^ Diagram, including tiindle scars and stipule scars. ^ 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 i^ith will often furnish good characters. One who is learnin<^ them should eniplo}- his senses of touch, taste and smell as well as his sight. The toughness and pliancy of hickory tu-igs are revealed to our fingers. By biting t^\^gs, distinctive flavors may be discerned in most t%\'igs. Tulip tree is bitter, and sweet birch is deliciously aromatic. The buds of linden are mucilaginous when chewed. The twigs of walnut and sassafras ha\'e 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 gro^^dng 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 The sailing pine; the cedar proud and tall; The vine-prop elm; the poplar never dry; The builder oak, sole king of forests all; The aspen good for staves; the cypress funeral; The laurel, meed of mighty conquerors And poets sage; the fir that weepeth still; The willow, worn of forlorn paramours; The yew, obedient to the bender's will; The birch for shafts; the sallow for the mill; The myrrh siveet-bleeding in the bitter ivound; The warlike beech; the ash for nothing ill; The fruitful olive; and the platane round; The carver holme; the maple, seldom inward sound. — Spenser (Faery Queen). When we know the trees by sight, then we may profit by an inquiry as to what kind of associations they form with one another. The farm wood-lot will be a good place for this, especially if it be, as it usually is, a remnant of the original forest cover. We will assume a small piece of wildwood not too closely or too recently cut over, with small areas, at least, of forest cover, and with a goodly remnant of brushwood. There are openings even in primeval forest, where giant trees have fallen, letting in a flood of light. In such places the trees of the undergrowth lift their heads and bushes flourish for a few years, rearing a generation and sending forth their seeds before a new growth of trees of the forest cover over- takes and overtops them. All about the borders of the wood-lot will be found such a growth of lesser trees and shrubs, massed against the Hght, 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, \\itli scattering low shrubs nearer to the ^ound. This is the way in which, left to themselves, each "finds its level" and its proper situation. T(X) 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 <^ou]jini,'s of the trees of dilTerent kinds will l)e seen to diftcr ob\'iousl\-, according to their several modes of reproduction. Copses of young trees, clustered about old ones, will be found s])rinp:ing up as "suckers" from the spreading roots of beech and choke-cherry and nanny-berr}'. Thickets composed of a mixture of tree-species spring up as seedlings in the j^lace where a giant of the woods has fallen, lea\-ing a good site temj^orarily unoccupied. In such a place the struggle for existence is apt to be severe. Groui)s of a few trees on a common root result from the gro\\'th of s]Drouts from stumps. vSome trees, like the chestnut, when cut will come again unfailingh', and replanting is unnecessary for their maintenance. Others, like the white pine, rarely sprout from the base when cut dowii, and are renewed only from seed. Most trees sprout more freely if cut (or bunted) \\'hen \-oung. Dozens of sprouts will promptly sj^ring 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 gTaduall\' clintinated in the competition for light and standing roont. The changes in comj^osition 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 b>' fires or by grazing, has her ownt wa>'S of keei)ing a ])lace for each of her wild species. Let us study the wood-lot first to sec 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 tiTiie 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 b}^ 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, ^vith 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. o G^ ^ O •J3 o Q n • tj n - o .. fc^ ^ 5^3 §1 eg- § g U) a c o II o 3 u X (J rite directly u few of the corr d in it, in thrt Trees of the f . Trees of the I. Shrubs. ^^^ t-H »— 1 (— < ^ o O'H k^ Fig. 42. A simple outline map with instructions for use in this study. XI. THE FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM "We piled with care our nightly stack Of wood against the chimney back, — The oaken log, green, huge^ a7id thick, And on its top the stout hack-stick; The knotty fore-stick laid apart A nd filled between with curious art The ragged brush; then hovering near We watched the first red blaze appear, Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam On whitewashed wall and sagging beam, Until the old rude-fashioned room Burst flower-like into rosy bloom/* — Whittier {Snow - Bound') . One of the first of the resources of nature to be brought into human service was fire. Lightning and other causes set wild fires going, and the savage following in their wake, found that they had done certain useful work for him. They had cut pieces of timber into lengths and shapes that were convenient to his hand. They had roasted wild roots and green fruits, and the flesh of wild animals overtaken, and had made them much more palatable. They had left piles of glowing embers beside which on a chill day he warmed himself. So he 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 wild wood has furnished the fuel. In the wood there is great variety of it : fine tmgs and coarse, and bark and splin- ters, all ready for use ; and dead trees down, and green trees 8i 82 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM Standing, needing cutting. Fire was the cutting agent first em])loycd. 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-stufifs available for making quick fires. All wood will bum aiid give forth heat, but one who knows woods \\411 not use all kinds: it is only the degenerate ''^'*'^ 4 *i>.i^^%^ ^ ^m^^m^i ^^..^^^:,7~ wcr ■ ■_ ^ : - ifrF%- - "^ • Fig. 1. 5. Western yellow pine dismantled and ignited by lightning (U. S. Bureau of Forestry). modem, who will do that -who will go to the tclei)hone and order a cord of wood \Nathout further specifications. Heavy, close-grained, hard woods as a rule bum more slowly and yield more heat thiin the lighter, more oi)en-textured soft woods. Combustible resins vary the rate of burning, and the amount of heat ])roduced: but the greatest differences in burning qualities are due to the amount of water present. A punky old log that when dry will bum 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 modem 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-raaking 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. 84 NATURAL HISTORY OF THK FARM Dan Beard's famous caiiip-fire of four pine knots illustrates well the principles of fire niakinj:^. Each knot is cleft in tapering shav- ings, which, ignited at their tips, gradually Fig. M. D;in Beards famous fire of four pine inr*rf»acp in ci-z/^ nc fhn. knr.ts: a. the preparation of one of the knots; mcrcase Ul SlZC aS tnc b. the placing and igniting of them. ^j.^ j.^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ 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 the}^ bum, they automatically come closer together. The "top-fire" of the Adirondack woodsmen illustrates excellently a long-keeping fire, that is based on a discriminat- ing knowledge of fuel values. Figure 45a, illustrates its con- struction at the start. Two water-logged chunks of hemlock that will not bum out, scr\'e as "andirons" to hold up the sides and insure a con- tinuous air supply from below. A smooth platfonn of freshly cut yellow birch poles is laid upon these. The yellow birch, even when green, has good fire-keeping qualities. Hickory would scn^e the pur- pose. An ordinar}- fire is then built upon the top of the birch plat- fomiby means of kind- pic. 4.-5. a woodsman's long-kceping "top-fire" linrr nnri fntrotc nnri a. bcKinninR; b. well under way and ready for ung ana lagots ana the roiling 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 bum 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 bium 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 btimed 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 bum the tree-tops in the woods for riddanceof 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 buming qualities as is the wood of the trunks. It should be the object of the following study to leam 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 stonns or shattered by lightning; some, diseased by fungi or eaten by beetles or ants; dead snags, tunneled by wood- peckers; old boles tattooed by sa]3suckers; 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 ^^'ith. The modem 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 w^ood-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 ])runing and thinning. Nature has placed good fire-making materials handy. As you collect, observe what kinds of trees hold their dead branches longest and prescr^'c them inost free from decay. If there are shattered trunks within reach, knock off the shattered ends and try them for kindling. Compare splintering with cho]:)])ing as a means of i)rei:)aring kindling- stuff from dry softwood. (b) Resinous stuffs, such as the "curl" of the outer bark of the yellow birch, the bark stri])s 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 sraudge : it should catch quickly and bum up steadily and clearly with little smoke. To this end materials /, should be selected of proper fazttCZT^^ — ^ "~V kind and proper size for J . .. • J. 1, Fig. 46. A simple rack of bent wire suit- ready IgmtlOn, must De so able for the block-testing outlined in this arranged as to admit air ^^"^ ^^' below, must "feed" inward as the center biuns out and must not be increased in size faster than the increasing heat warrants. With the individual fires biuning 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 nimi- 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 consimied. 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 XATL'RAL HISTORY OF THE FARM ^:^.-a n I, 2, and 3 to bum out. With the apparatus shown in figure 47 any- one can start a fire by friction of one and timing the disappearance first of flame, and then of red glow. 3. The burning quality of the same kind of wood in diff"erent con- ditions, green and dead, sapwood and heartwood; dead wood wet and dn,', sound and ])unk; pieces from knot and from straight-grained por- tions, etc., mav be tested as in Fig. 47. Rubbing sticks for , firc-n.aking: a. drill-socket, paragraph I. to which pressure is applied . . i i r with the left hand (a pine 4. Anacnt mcthods ot startmg a knot with a shallow hole in ^ , , , , , . it will do for this); b. the lire may bc demonstrated m thc mtcr- drill, an octagonal hardwood , , ., . . r ^^ • ■% stick about fifteen inches Vals WhllC WaitUlg lOr thC piCCCS USCQ long; the top should work smoothly in the drill socket; c, inelastic bow for rotating drill. It is moved horizont- ally back and forth with the right hand; its cord, - balsam fir. or of cotton- lully nursuig thc iirst rcsultmg Spark. wood root . or even of bass- _,, . - , , . , , wood. Obser\'e how the Tlmt and stccl and tmdcr inay also notches are cut with sides , . . flaring downward; a little pit DC tncd. to receive the point of the „ . . .... fire drill is at the apex of 5. bomc mtcrcstmg peculiantics each one; / is a used-out . . , - - notch; 2 is yet in use; j is a oi ccrtam woods mav bc sho^^^l at a new unused notch. The ^ rotating of the drill with common Tire: pressure from above rubs off , ^ _, - . , , a brownish wood powder (a) Bv havmg grccu chumcs which falls beneath the , . ' -,,..,. notch and smokes, and then, blUTLing at OnC CUd, tllC liqUldS lU with gentle fanning, ignites. , , , - . ., , A dr>' piece of punk should thc wood may bc made visible. be placed beneath the notch /-, 1 -n 1 i to catch it, and some fine Grecn clm Will cxudc watcr at thc tinder (such as may be , - - 1 -n r 1 readily made by scraping OthCr Cnd ; TCd maplC Will trotll j fine, dry cedar wood) should , . , .,, , -. . , be added to catch the first hickory Will cxudc a vciy Imiited quantity of delicious "hickory honey. ' ' (b) By burning pieces of chestnut, sumach, etc., the crack- ling of woods may be demonstrated; also the ember- throw- ing habit of hemlock. A shower of sparks may be had by throwing on green and leafy boughs of hemlock and balsam. FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM 89 The record of this study will consist in : 1. An annotated list of the kindling woods foiind, 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 \ERDURE UF TUK l-ARM "The damsel donned her kirtle sheen; The hall vas dressed 'uilh holly green; Forth to the wood did merry-men go To gather in the mistletoe." — Walter Scott (Marmion). In winter when the fields arc bro^\Tl, the pastures deserted, the birds flo\\Ti, 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 wdth 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 countr>''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 arc 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 arborvitse. 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 shrul)s, and trailing ground-cover herbs. One of the finest of them, in the freshness of its \\4nter greenen' and in beauty of its summer flowers, is the mountain laurel. In the woods on the ground there are climips of evergreen fcnis, and partridge berry and wintergrecn, and tufts of perennial mosses, and considerable areas are often overspread with the bright and shining ver- dure of the blue m\Ttle, or, in dr\^ places, with the gray -green of the moss-pink. Many of our scattered herbs like alum- root and vnld strawberry remain green over winter if not too much exposed. E\'cn the grasses of our lawns remain green, wdth a little protection. Study 12. Evergreens of the Farm An examination of all the commoner and more interesting evergreens of the farm, with a ^dew 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 tri]3 about the lawns where specimen trees grown in the open ma>' 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 ^^'ith headings as indicated on pages 94 and 95. The more heterogeneous broad-leaved evergreens are to be listed, \nth brief notes as to their characters and habits. *Often the most available living collection of evergreens will be found in a neighboring cemetcr>' 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 01 NAME Growth Habit' Kind of Barlf Sizc^" Porm- ' Diagram. 'Note color, content, manner of shedding, etc. ^Length X width in mm. ■•Cylindric. flat, keeled, grooved, etc. EVERGREEN TREES AND SHRUBS 95 Fruit Position^ Arrangement^ Kind^ Form^ Miscellaneous 5 Appressed or divergent, etc. ^Solitary or in bundles: if solitary, are they opposite or alternate, 2-ranked scattered : if in bundles, how many leaves per bundle. ^ Cone, berry, drupe, etc. ^ Diagram of distinctive features. XIII. Till-: WILD MAMMALS oF THH FARM "I'm truly sorry man's dominion Has broken Nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which fnakcs thee startle. At me, thy poor earth-horn companion An' fellcnc-mortal! — Robert Burns (To a mouse, on turning her up in her nest with the plough), Aborij^nal society in America was largely based on the native wild beasts. The\' were more essential to the red man than our flocks and herds are to us. His dejiendence upon them was inore 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 ser^'cd 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 dri^•cn out in part b}' direct assault, but in a far larger part by the destruction of his resources in furs and game. Lx)sing these, he became de])endcnt. Anned resistance by the eastern Indians ceased with the passing of the beaver; b>' the Plains Indians, with the passing of the buffalo. The earliest white settlements in America were su]:)ported mainly by himting and trajjping and the sale of furs. Mis- sionary zeal and desire for extension of empire ])romoted 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 y6 ■ 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 onr 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 oiu" fiu:s 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. 98 NATURAL HISTORY OF TIUv FARM Besides the bison, "noblest of /Yincrican 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 pronghom. Of these, the red deer remains where given protection ; indeed, though ne\'er domesticated, it seems to thri\'e on the borders of civilization. Recently in New Eng- land, fanners have had to kill ofT wild deer in order to save their crops. Of the beasts of prey, all the lar- ger species, bears and j^umas and lynxes and wolves, have been killed or dri\'cn out ; and probably most of us would be well enough satisfied to have all those that remain, confined in zoological i:)arks. Foxes linger in the larger wooded tracts. Skunks are probably more abundant tlian 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 agricultiu-al conditions than the two preceding groups. The destruction of the beasts of prey remo\'cd their m(^st dangerous natural enemies, and the gro\\4ng of crops in the fields increased tlicir available food. It is altogether ]:)n)bable, therefore, that where s])ecial 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 measiu-es, find plenty of them. Fig. 48. A pronghom buck. THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM 99 Then there are a few Httle 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 opossimi, 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 otir 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 otir 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 measiu^es 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 weU, 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 lOO NATURAL IIISToRV OF Till-: FARM pains of countless generations; and when once sw^-pt away it can never be recovered. By the care of our flocks we lia\e become more s\-mpathelic towards tame animals. By taking thought for the welfare of the remnant of our wild animals, we shall become more S}inpalhelic toward them, more a])])reciative of their fine powers and their esthetic walues. \\^e shall become more civilized; for, as the late Professor Shaler assured us, "The sense of duty which master\' of the earth gives, is to be one of the moral gifts of modern learning." Study 13. The Wild Mammals of the Farm Tliis study includes a little trapping expedition, and some examination of ca])turcd wild animals and obser\'ations of their haunts and habits. The tools needed will be pocket knives, an individual su]:)ply 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 cai:>ture only a few of the over-abundant little rodents, others should be available in captivity. Woodchucks, chij^munks, etc., may be kept buried in a box in hibernation, if obtained in auttmm. Raccoons, opossums, etc., may be purchased from dealers. They may often be borrowed from ])ersons in the neighborhood who keep them as pets. The program of work will consist of : I. A trip along some meadow fence-row and al>out the grassy borders of a wood, taking up a line of trai)s (that should have been set the day before and marked as to location), removing the catch and again baiting them. The\' should be set in the runwa\'S of meadc )W inice, wood mice, shrews, moles, etc. Little "Zip" traps, or others of the guillotine t\'pe, are lightest and chca])est (three cents or less apiece in quantities), and are quite eflicient. They are baited by S])rinkling some flakes of oats about the trigger. They are best covered by a THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM lOI 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 fami, 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 bent, its top held down by a line, /, attached to a trigger in a hole in the post,^. Fast to the line is the slip- noose, 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 ma ^ inch hole in the post. The slightest movement of the bait-stick rolls the ball, re- leases the line, ^ and liberates the pole to draw the noose. I02 THE WILD MAMMALS 1 Weight Length Color and Markings* NAME Body Tail 1. Woodchuck 2. Chipmunk 3. Red squirrel 4. Deer mouse ■ 5. Meadow mouse 1 1 6. Short-tailed shrew 7. Mole 8. Skunk 9. Mink 10. Wen sol 11. Raccoon 12. Bat I In brief. I03 OF THE FARM Fur Quality* Market Price Feeding Habits* Economy^ Miscellaneous " How does it affect our interests. XrV. THE nOMCSTrCATF.D MAMMALS OF THE I- ARM "One of the best features of agricultural life consists in the great amount of care-taking which it imposes upon its follmcers. lite ordinary farmer has to enter into more or less sympathetic relations with half a score of animal species and many kinds of plants. 1 1 is life, indeed, is dex^oted 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 iDomesticaUd Animals, p. 222). Our chief needs in life are things to cat, tilings to wear, and things to have fun wath. Our marrunaJian allies pro\ade 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 funiish, 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 quahty. 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 shar]^ teeth, his s\nft 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 \vith 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 OP 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 Yevy 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 full y 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 himter 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 lo6 XATIRAL HISTORY OF THE FARM fowls he came with edueation to be the protector and shep- herd of them. He could be taught to work also, the 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 sers'cs 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; wliile 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. 50. Ox yoke: our animal s. Tumiug the soil ^^'ith 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 projjerty in land, began to be develo])ed. Nature cquif)ped the cattle kind to serve us in many ways. She made them excellent producers of flesh and of milk, of hides and of honi. vShe made them hard}', 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 hel]:)ers along the road of progress. Next to the dog he has been man's most intimate associate. He was adinirably adai)ted by nature to su]:>plcment man's physical ]:)owers. 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- ^TsmutSi^''"^'''" 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 complement al. 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 HISTORV OF THli: FARM this. The horse was ke])t for use in war mainly. Some peculiarities of his mental make-up seem to fit him for the parade pjound. He seems to love excitement. He enters into a race with j^eat zest. He steps high in ])ublic and wears tlie tra])i)ings of war \\'ith 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 ]:)robably 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 equi]:)ped. 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 s^^^fter of foot and stronger. Do we not still measure the energy used for hea\'y 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 sldns was hea\^ 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 clotliing. 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 su];]jly. He puts on flesh quickly and is very prolific. Hence, the meat supply can be more quickl\' 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. n • i_ • j ^ ^ well nigh ommvorous 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 gnmt and squeal : sheep bleat : don- keys bray. How characteristic their actions are, also. They fiimish our most graphic figures of speech. Often in politics or in business we hear men accused of shying, of balking, of no XATURAL HISTORY ni- Till-: 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 l.avc 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 pri\'ate virtues. The horse stands for courage; he represents rather the pubUc \4rtues. 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 dri nk i t ^ In lands where certain cattl e are regarded as sacred , their flesh i s not considered good to eat. Their availability as food is not determined by our judgment, but by our sjanpa- 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 liandling. 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 imi^ortant inammals discussed in the preceding pages, the ancestor of only the pig is known. It is the ^\^ld boar of Europe. Selection has done its proper DOMESTICATED MAMMALS OF THE FARM in 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 greyhoimds and staghoimds to nm 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 nimiber, location, characteristics and uses. The program of work will consist of a trip to all the bams 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 l)c in two parts: 1 . The student will write u]) brief notes on the dofr, horse, cow, shee]\ pig, etc., conceniing those ])oints in their natural history detennining their ax-ailability for purposes of domesti- cation as follows: their size and weight (average); rate of growth; rei)roductive 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 obser\'ations. 2. The record of the second ])art of this study, the com- parison of breeds, may conveniently be incorporated into tables, one for each species studied, \^^th 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. Nimiber kept. Kept where. Average market \'alue. 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; hut 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 htmtsmen, 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 hiunan 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 w^ld pigeons. To learn how abundant these were we need go back only a little to the records of the pioneers. Father Raffeix, the Jesuit missionary who was one of the first white men to dwell beside "Cayuga's waters," wrote thus of the abundance of game in the Cayuga basin: ''Every year in the vicinity of Cayuga more than a thousand deers are killed. Four 113 114 NATURAL IIISTORV OF THIv FARM leagues distant from here on the brink of the river (the Seneca) are eight or ten fine salt fountains in a small si)ace. 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 (Ca>'uga), one of the two wliieh 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 ri\cr which rises in the lake soon di\ades into different channels enclosed by prairies, with here and there fine attractive bays of con- siderable extent, excellent places for hunting." (Jesuit Relatiois 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 ixist 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 rescr\'ations that are being established north and south, for their ]3rotcction. 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 cons])icuous and noisy, and which the hunter could follow by eye and ear, ^""igton. ^^^ "^'^^ pa*«"8er ^^^^ ^^^^^^ (\o\\\\ with shot at cvcry THE FOWLS OF THE FARM 115 resting place. One generation of Americans found the pigeons in "inexhaustible supply:" the next saw thera 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-himter. In their summer breeding groimds 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 abtmdant wild fowl, has known them as heralds of simimer 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; especial! \- those that, like the wild turkey, were large enough to be ii6 NA'IUKAL HISTORY OF THE FARM Pre. 54. Bob- white (after Seton). trophies to the hunter; or those, Hkc the bob-white, that were social in habits; or those, hke tlie prairie hen. that flew in the open and could be followed by the eye to cover. Our woods-loving niffed grouse has fared a little better. Wherever suffi- cient forest cover remains, it has been able to maintain itself in spite of well -anned pursuers. It is alert. It is solitar}'. Its protective coloration is well nigh perfection. Its flight is swift; and when flushed from cover, it goes off ^vith a starthng suddenness and ^^•hirring of wings that disconcerts the average hunter and delays his fire until a safe esca])e 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 ^vild cereals of the woodland swales, and fla\'orcd 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 arc most unique. The ludicrous goljble of the turkey, the thrilling whistle of the Ijob-w^hite, the muiflcd drumming of the niffed /v .:;= The m.ilc ruffed THE FOWLS OF THE FARM 17 Fig. 56. The sora rail {Porzana Carolina.) grouse, are sounds unmatched in nature and inimitable; so also are the antics that accompany their utterance. The day of abundance of wild fowl in this country is forever past. The most that may be hoped for by the bird-lover is that a few may be saved here and there, wherever fit homes for them remain. The pigeon is gone; the turkey is a captive; but let us hope that a few wild _ „ places will be preserved where 2 xvC-^'-'^'iJi^^^il - those who come after us may hear the call of the bob-white and the grouse in our vales: let us hope they may be uplifted with the sight of some of our fine wild waterfowl, traversing the equinoctial skies. Our ancestors brought with them to America fowls that had been domesticated in earlier times and in far distant lands: chickens, ducks, geese, pigeons, guineafowl, pea- fowl, etc. These, doubtless, came into domestication largely by way of the barnyard. Are they not called barnyard fowl, and so distinguished from wild fowl? They may have lingered about the stalls of the cattle and horses in primeval times to find the grain wasted by these animals, and to feed upon it. It is a noteworthy fact that 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 consimaed 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 WTre 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 ob\'ious 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 adaptabiUty 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 \'ariety 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 umnelo- 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 fomi, their cheerful sociability and their soft THE FOWLS OF THE FARM 119 conversation, and pla3rfulness. 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 sHdes. 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 fann. 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 I20 XAIIRAL HISTORY OF THIi: FARM makc-ui) and bchax'ior. In these notes distinguish between oriuiiKil ohstTW'Uions and secondhand infonnation. The record of the second part of this study, the comparison of breeds, may conveniently be made in the form of a table, pro\'ided with column headings as follows: Name of breed (PlNinouth Rock, bantam, etc., if a table of common fowl). Average weight. Average egg production (get data from poultr\'-}ard 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. XVT. 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 feattires 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, ahvays fill the foreground, 121 122 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM gi\4ng 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 comi)ositions, nature surrounds him with good models, from the study of which he may learn their use. If he looks to the ^^'ildwood about him he will be able U) find scenes that disclose the elements of landscape beaut >•. He wdll find sheltering nooks that invite him to come and rest in their seclusion; sinuous streams and cun'ing i)aths 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, ever^-^-here varied with infinite tuftings, full of Hghts and shadows; irregular skylines, punctuated by not too many nor too prominent fonns of indi\-iduality; and all organized and unified and harmonizing as component pcLvts of the border of the \'allcy of some stream or lake. Now the farm is not a natural unit of tliis larger landscape, but only a small section arbitrarily marked out by the sur- veyor. With the larger landsca])e the best one can do is to locate, if he may, where the j^rosi^ect is good. Moreover, the curving lines of nature's pictures and the merging masses of her plantings, are not practiealh' a])]3licable 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 ])ul)lic road is ])lcasing. 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 I'llI- FARM descendinj^, 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 u.sed to say. "If you would fix upon the best color for your house, turn u]) a stone, or i:)luck 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 f annsteads 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 honiesteads visited, arranged for each one as follows: No. (If the name of the o\\nier be not set down, it will matter less whether the remarks l)c always com])limentary.) location. (This may, ])erhaps, best be shown In' making a little sketch-ma]) of the route, whereon all the j^laces studied FARM LANDvSCAPES 125 are shown in relation to the public highwa^^s 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 mth 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, whieli arc intended to be used by the student, individually, and at his own convenience. The data called for may be picked u]) during the course of walks afield for air and exercise; but serial or extended obser\ations, that cannot all be made in the course of a sinpjle class exercise, are in all cases demanded. Persomil initiative is desired. An instructor ma}- be asked to name plants or animals, but the student should learn by these exercises to consult nature inde])endcntly. He should work alone, or with not more than one or two com]janions. A good idea of the continuity of nature's processes and of her limitless perseverence in carr\'ing them forward can be gained only by oft-repeated serial obser\'ations. Optional Study 1. A Student's Record of Farm Operations It is the object of this study to discover how the fanner 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 fanner'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 obscr\'ations extending through the tenn 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 fanners 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 I Other animals !a i Soils o I w I h [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 ol)ject of this study is nu-ivly to set tlic student to obscn-in<^ the beauties of his immediate environment. Let him not be troubled alK)ut artistic standards. Nature furnishes the artist with his models. Art ^ows, like a^cnil- ture, by the selection and intensifying of the best that nature ofTers . 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 indi\'idual trees; until he has compared them, and has noted their personal characteristics; has observed the superior crown of this one, the s}Tnmetrical 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 gratefid 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 ■NT . Location Chosen forf Best viewed 1\AMK Map Situation from White Pine 1 § 0 Hemlock Cedar Larch c 1 Oak* . > s 1 3 Hickory* Chestnut Butternut a 6 8 -4-> ^ Beech Birch* Maple* 0) PQ 1 Elm* Ash* Basswood Sycamore Tulip tree Hornbeam* Flowering Dog- wood Remarks Pine Woods 0 Oak Woods ^ Elm Woods ^ Beech Woods CO General Forest Cover *Any species, but specify which species. fSymmetry, columnar trunk, type of branching, color, etc. I30 NOTEWORTHY VIEWS Kind of view 1 A wide panorama 2 A long vista 3 A woodland aisle 4 Undulating fields 5 A small sheltered valley 6 A crop in the field 7 8 9 10 11 12 A meandering brook A pond scene A waterfall Rocky cliffs A foliage picture A scene uith farm animals I'i A snow scene 1 14 !A homestead For what selected Prints, sketches, or diagrams of the views selected ON THE FARM 131 Location Best seen from At what time may be added to the record, but are not required. 132 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM Optional Study 4. Autumnal Coloration and Leaf Fall Probably the grandest phenomenon of nature that is i^ecu- liar to our northern latitude, is the coloration of the woods in autunm. All marvel at the display. Few obser\-e it carefully. It is the object of this study to direct attention to some of the external features of it : the mechanical i)re])ara- 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 admirabl}^ nature manages it ! She first withdraws all food materials fr(3m the leaves into the stem and branches. Then she starts her wonderful dis])lay 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 conser\'es 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 obser\'ations 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 relewint 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 da>^ 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 coltimn headings : Name (consult an instructor if you do not know the plant) . Kind of plant (tallherb, low herb, vine, trailer, etc.). Seed cluster (illustrate by a simple diagram). manner (seeds lost singly, in pairs, in clusters, Seed I etc.) dispersal | agency (wind, water, animals, plant auto- matism, etc.) Date of Remarks seeds first out. maximum dispersal final dispersal. 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- form' Color First Mature tint tint Date Fading tints Where on leaf First appearing Where on tree In wh; situ a tion' 'Diagram, including all leaflets if compound. 'Wet or dry ground, sun or shade, etc. 135 AND LEAF F. \LL Condition of falling leaves3 Conditions* accompanying^ maximum fall Date of loss of leaves Remarks Maximum Final • 3As to breakage into pieces, extent of withering, etc. *0f frost, wind, rain, etc. 136 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM THE EXPOSITION She and I went in it, the Big Fair. We were tlie whole Attendance. It was all under one roof which was called The Sky. Every day this was rehue^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 ^2>7 138 NATURAL HISTORY oF THE FARM from the solid rock, p-ii\ity disposes of them: removes them almost as fast as formed from the vertical face of the clifl: lets them lie on the le\'cl summit: sweeps them do\\'n 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 roimds 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 oiu* eyes wander slowly from the near-by fields upward to the summit of the distant hills, and do^\Tlward 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 do\\Ti 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 fonn 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 ttuned 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; those 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 ])lo\v a fertile slope in furrows that run up and do\\Ti its face is to in\-ite the storm waters into i)re])ared channels that they may carry the soil awa>'. Too often the sur\'eyor's lines take no account of the true boundaries of nature's fields, and the plowinan knows not the existence of a law of gra\4ty. Many a green hillside, fit to raise permanent crops in perpetuity, has been cleared and ])lowed 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 valle\'S 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 gra\dty — 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 foimd among terraced hills that have been cultivated for centuries. But the simpler method of holding the soil together by untilled crops — pastures and tree croi:)s — is probably more suited to American conditions. Fortunate is our outlook, also, if in the midst of thriving farms and forested hills, there be left a little bit of land here and there that has not been too much "improved." A bit of wildwood, where the brush is not cut nor the swamp THE LAY OF THE LAND 141 drained — a place, preferably near the school, where the native life of the land may be found — a sanctuary for the wild birds and all the other wild things, plants and animals, to which the youth of the rising generations may go in order to see what the native life of his native land was like. The wild things are rapidly vanishing. Where would one find even now a bit of the rich unaltered wild prairie that once over- spread the interior of this continent, with its tall, waving grasses and all its wealth of wild flowers? The landscape belongs to all. Its smiling slopes, or their forlorn tatters, affect the public weal. It is good to dwell in a place where the environment breeds contentment; where peace and plenty grow out of the right use of nature's resources; where smiling fields yield golden har- vests, and where well kept home-steads nestle amid em- bowering trees; where both the beauty and the bounty of nature are acknowledged, and wise measures are taken to improve her gifts, and to leave them unimpaired for the nurture of coming generations. Men have attained to profitable co-operation in many lines of enterprise. May the time come when they will be able to co-operate in organizing for their best use all features of the larger units of their environment; when they will preser\^e 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, includinpj bottomlands, larj^e 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 ])ocket 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 expostu-e and measuring their gradients. Natural adaptations to particular crops, and to choice sites for buiTows 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 tliis study may consist in : 1 . The map with the natural fields roughly marked out in part — i.e., the areas thiit 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 foimd 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) imdergro\\i:h plants, (c) moisture, (d) accumulation of humus. XVIII. THE DECIDUOUS SHRUBS OF THE FARM "There the spice-bush lifts Her leafy lances; the virburnum there, Paler of foliage, to the sun holds up Her circlet of green berries. In and out The chipping sparrow, in her coat of brown, Steals silently, lest I should mark her nest." — Bryant {The Fountains). The lesser woody plants of the farm have not been held in much favor by the farmer. They have not been very useful to him, and they have tended to overrun his fence-rows, to close up his roadways, and to fill every untilled opening in his woodlot with unusable and unsalable stuff. Next to the trees, they are, in new soils, the greatest impediment to tillage; and unlike the trees, they yield no valuable products to repay the labor of clearing the ground. What we call shrubs, the pioneer knew by the uncomplimentary name of "brush." Still, shrubs have many uses, as every woodsman knows. An important use, once made of them by the redmen, is indicated by the sirrviving 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 v/histles. 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 ser\^ed by the straight "switches" of a number of shrubs, 143 144 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM notably of the hazel. The writer well recalls a district school- room and a teacher's desk behind which stood a bunch of straight hazel rods. They were always ready. Their use once only was fip^tirativcly described a a "cup of hazel tea," and their continued use, as "a course in sprouts". A number of our native shrubs produce edible \)erries, 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 ha\-c 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 simiach 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 dog^vood 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 otliers that bear great compound leaves ; they are slender and tangled in DECIDUOUS SHRUBS OF THE FARM 145 spircea and blueberry and other small-leaved things. The twigs of azalea, witch-hazel, the hobble-bush, the spreading dogwood (Cornus alternijolia) 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 thominess 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 slirubs, 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 blueben-ies and sumachs, there are both giants and dwarfs. All shrubs are underlings; they cannot compete with the trees. Once in possession of the soil, they can keep trees out only by forming so dense a shade that no tree can get a start. Once an oak or a maple gets its head above the common level 146 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM it has the advantage of them, and can su])j)rcss them with its shade. By the roadside and in the fence-row, where the fanner keeps the trees cut do\\Ti, >-et 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 slo])e with soil-consen.'ing shrub- bery than to have its soil slipping away into the streams; better to fill the border of his la^^Tl 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 pro\-ides 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 tlic birds, if proper shrubs be chosen (see page 201). And if rightly used-if used in such ways and places as nature's ]:>lantings suggest — it adds nuich of interest and value to an\' i)ropert}', 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 cliunps 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; 6', shrubs of the waterside; c, shrubs of the fencerow, and of other open sunny places, etc., listing thus separately the shrub-associations of the more typical situations visited in the course of the trip afield. 148 DECIDUOUS SHRUBS NAME Height Annual^ Shoots Growth" Habit Grows* Where Twigs Diameter* Color ' Maximum growth of one season in centimeters. ' Erect or spreading, slender, bushy, etc. ' In sun or shade, wet or dry ground, etc. ♦ AvernRC diamoter rf an average twig in millimeters. • Clustering of buds, hairiness, thorns, etc. 149 OF THE FARM Buds Form* Color Arrangement' Leaf-scars^ REMARKS^ "^ Diagram. '^ Opposite, alternate or whorled. » 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, Jlcrw the beavers built their lodges, Where the squirrels hid their acorns, Ihnv 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 niost of her animal population to sleep. In lod^e 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 manmials. 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 e\'cry 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 wliite page, each animal prints its own indis]>ulal)le 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 cliips from its wr.odworkings, the scales froni 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. WTiere we have seen no rabbits, the brush- 150 WINTER ACTIVITIES OF WILD ANIMALS 151 wood may be overrun with their tracks. Where we have seen no snow-birds, the weed patch may be littered with the husks from their feeding. If we are beginners in woodcraft, we will need to see the animals that make the snow-records in order to identify them; but we may perhaps learn the difference between tracks of a skuiik 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, • • • * • • % • • * • t a b Fig. 59. Tracks on the snow of mam- mals, walking, a, rabbit; 6, skunk. (Drawn from photographs) . V u mi 0 Fig. 60. The record of a morning excursion of a red squirrel in search of a breakfast. Arrow indicates direc- tion taken; h.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 nimiber 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), dimg, marks of teeth in gnawings, bark, scales, chips, borings, diggings, detached feathers and hair 15' NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM caught on thorns, etc. Muskrat and deermouse drag their tails, lea\ing a groove on the surface of the snow between the double line of foot])rints. The crow drags his front toe, leaving a narrow trailing mark between his sole-i)rints. Tracks are the signs chiefly used by the woodsman, and next to tracks, are the c\idences of feeding. Where the (]uadruped halts, there are ant 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 may see such di\'erse 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 ha\e picked from a burnt stump, perhaps to use as a condiment, j^crhaps 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 obser\'ing 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 fixmi t t .'^ 4 f r p V 1 \j/ Pig. 61. Bird tracks; ruflfcd grouse. WINTER ACTIVITIES OF WILD ANLMALS 153 one's \Yindow. Some of the more familiar little birds, such as chickadees, nut hatches and do^vny woodpeckers, will com.e 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 pubHcity. 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 kill them. So the careful grower protects his trees by wrapping their trunks with something inedible, such as wivQ 154 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM cloth or tarred i~)apcr. 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 ]')art of the joy of a tram]-) through winter woods lies in being able to interpret these signs and to know what is going on. To a naturaHst, the woods never seem unin- habited; for e\'ery 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 inter\'ened 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, deteniiining their direction and speed, the cause or purpose of interruptions, etc.; also obscr\4ng evidences of feeding and the natm-e 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, 0 Tamarack! Of your fibrous roots, O Larch-Tree! My canoe to hind together, So to hind 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 yoimg 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. *Tn Samoa, it is the work of women to make nets chiefly from the bark of the hibiscus. After the rough outer surface has been scraped off with a shell on a board, the remaining 155 156 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM fibers arc t^\^stcd. with the palm of the liand across the bare thi^h. As the good lady's cord lengthens, she fills her netting needle and works it into her net. . . The cxanij^le of one of the Sainoan women t\vistin,i(, without the aid of a s])indle, strips of bark into cord is as near to the invention of spinning as we may hope to come." — Mason (Wcyjuan^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 con^.])r)und 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 Fig. C2. 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 shaq3ly, tending to break them, and yields a flat cord, having less phancy. Both spinning and braiding were practised in all lands before the dawn of history. Ever^n^iicre 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 ser\-ed 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 m.aking of cloth by the interlacing of cords thus spun, is its complemental art. Spindle and loom are symbols of modern civilization ; they have done more than almost any other mechanical aids, to change the conditions of our living from that of our savage ancestry. Yet spindle and loom had humble and far-off beginnings. The primitive spindle was a smooth stick that could be fastened at one end to a mass of loose fibers, and twisted at the other with the fingers, winding the fibers into a thread as they were drawn out from the mass ; or elsewhere it was a suspended whirling bob, that could be set in motion with the hand. The primitive loom was a low horizontal bough of a tree, with threads of the warp suspended from it. The threads of the woof were twined in and out by hand. With an equipment only a little more complicated than this, some of the finest products of the world's textile art have been produced. Birds weave crudely, but they do not spin. They accept from nature and use in their nest building a great variety of fibers, but they have not attained to the art of lengthening their cordage by twisting short fibers together. This is a human art. The foundation of an oriole's nest (fig. 63), con- sisting of a few strands of cordage suspended from a twig, is not far removed, either in principle or in form, from the warp 158 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE I^\RM of a ])riinitivc loom, such as women of certain tribes use to-day. Into this waq) 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 wca\'ing of the oriole is not well done, let him sit do^\Ti with an empty nest and tr\' 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, an}i:hing that nature ollercd, and that had sufficient length, strength and pliancy. In our day, this bird has adopted one of the products of our spindles, cotton-wrapping twane, 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 l)U(ls are pink, Pig. 63. An oriole at his nest, bringing a thread for the weaving. Then from the honeysuckle Rray The oriole with experienced quest Twitches the fibrous bark away The cordage of his hammock-nest," THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM 159 and may have taken a hint. At any rate, the earUest 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. H-e plucked them and tested them and looked for more. He found such fibers were most easily separable from the stems that had lain rotting in the pool. So he took the hint, and threw other stems into the water to rot and yield their fiber. So he continues to do, even to this day. He immerses his flax stems to dissolve the plant gums that hold the fiber and the wood together; and after a week or two of soaking and softening, he removes them from the water, "breaks" them, "scutches" them to remove the broken bits of woody stem, "hackles" them to separate (by a combing process) the "tow" from the long, clean fiber, which is then available for spinning into linen thread and for wea\dng 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 cannahinnm) 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 millcweed {Asclepias incarnatd), marshmallow {Hibiscus moscheutos), stamp- weed (Abutilon avicenncE), nettle (Urtica gracilis), burdock {Arctium lappa), sunflower {Helianthus annuus), etc. Many other plants produce good bast fibers, which vary much in length, strength, ease of separation and adaptability to manufacture. We have learned how to handle profitably a very few products 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 l6o NATURAL HISTORY UP THE FARM "^If^ Fig. 64. Cotton-bearing seeds issuing from milk- weed pods. Cottonwood, thistle and milkweed, produc- ing fibcT abundantly. The fiber products of the world's fanns are exceeded in value only b>' 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 anhnals concerned is 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 yams which may be knit or wo\'en into wann clothing for cold climates. The soft fibers of linen make clothing that is cool and that may readily be kept clean for sun.mer use. The shorter and finer fibers of cotton, being produce d in greatest abundance, make the cheai^est of clothing and are used in the greatest variet}' of ^^•a^•s, alone and in combination with wool, flax and silk. THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM i6i 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 elasticit}' 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 modem 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 i62 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM it can find for cordage. Many birds weave shorter fibers into the walls of their nests. Most birds find suital)le upholster- ing fibers for nisliioning the eggs —horsehair or feathers or thistledown. And the robin mixes grass blades and bast fibers with the cla>' out of which he builds his nuid nt'st. The birds know how to find ]>r()])er raw material in great variety. Let us in the following stud}' 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 ma>' be had only b}- 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 autiunn 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 dogljane and milk-Avced, shotild be gathered as a part of this exercise; but in order to obtain the bast readih', the stems should have been gathered earlier and "retted" for a week or more (:is neces- sary, according to species) in water. 5. Coarser fibrous materials in variety. The bast strips of linden are obtained by stri])])ing 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, yams 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, jo, Bureau of Amer. Ethnology, 2 vols. Washington, igi2) is a mine of information. XXI. THE ICE-COAT ON Till-: TREES "First there came do'cti a thawing rain And its dull drops froze on the bouf^hs again; Then there steamed up a freezing dew Which to the drops of the thaw-rain gre^c; 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 u]:)on tree life. In the "frozen north" there are no trees; and in our tem]jerate clime there are only those that are able to withstand a long period of inactivity, a succession of freezings and thawings, and the hea\-y mechanical stresses im])osed 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, the\' spread their branches horizontally in whorls around a single ax'.s, and when the snow bends theni, the higher branches rest u])on the lower from top to bottom in mutual support. As Jolm Burroughs poetically puts il, "The white pine and all its tribe look winter cheerily in the face, tossing the snow, masquerading in arctic liver}', 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 thennometer is hovering around the freezing ])oint. 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 btirdcn 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 cry^stal, the twigs being encased and conjoined with ice in all directions. So joined, the ice supports the twigs; and not the twigs, the ice. t66 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM Since tha\\-ing begins at the top and liberates first the upper branches, little damage results unless winds arise to break the ico-supports. Yet the smallest of the woody plants, e\'cn 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, th<:) it docs niuch damage, always confers some benefits on the trees. It ]:)i-unes 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 obscr\^ations 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 relati\-e niui .her of dead and living, and which sorts of woody plants are niost aiTccted. 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 inxmediately 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 obser\^able. There will be little damage to the trees obserA^ed; for the snow, loosely piled, is easily dislodged. It is heaped up on every possible support, and the dift'erences 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 stmiach and wild cari'ot, 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 decHning boughs of hemlocks and other ever- greens; and each of these masses in the spruce tenninates in blunt finger-lil<:e 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 t^vigs 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 stiU winter morning fol- lowing a snowfall, when the out-of-doors is like a fair}- land. XXil. MAPLE SAP AXD 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 \A'orld's sugar industr\^ indigenous here. The making of both s>Tup and sugar from the sap of the maple tree had been practiced from tixae immemorial by the Indians. Maple sugar was the coinmonest delicacy in their rather plain and unattractive bill of fare. It appealed to the white man's palate, and, after furs and com, it becajne one of the common- est articles of barter and of commerce. It was especially im]X)rt's, and ceases altogether wlien the ground gets warmer. The 1< )Tiger the period of alternating bright sunshiny da\-s and sharp frosty nights, the greater the amount of sap obtainable. Tiie greater, also, is the drain of the food reser\'e of the tree : but the provident maples store more than they need, and they are not injured by the loss of such aj.ounts as may be obtained by proper tapping. They often ha\'e to meet such losses tlirough 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, trbnmed at the time of abundant sap-flow, "bleed" profusely from the base of ever>^ branch removed — so profusely, indeed, that the plant may be wealvcned 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 >deld a sap tliat is sufhcient in quantity, rich enough in sugar, and sufliciently 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 fla\'or is improved by the non-sugar>' natural substances present in the sap. MAPLE SAP AND SUG.AR 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 no\vadays 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 laA'ers 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 Httle 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 abtmdant 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 maple tree, a, sap spout or " spile , " in an augur hole , and supporting a pail; b, bark. The sap wood is white, the heart wood is shaded. 172 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM sources of suppl>', liavc cnonnously increased and chea[)ened the product, and what was but recently a luxury in diet has become a necessity. The su^ar increase has all come from herbaceous plants, that may be quickly growTi— 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-gro^vdng, with beautiful hesL\y foliage. But the pioneer and the red man knew it as the source of his chief deHcacies. 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 da\-s briglit and sun- shiny, that an abundant flow of sap may be obtained from the trees. Take advantage of it, shifting other stuches 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 c)f it may I'C ()l)tained by reading Mrs. Comstock's excellent account ot maple-sugar making in her Handbook of Nature- Study, pp. 7 39-7-\i- 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 comjnon 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 shotdd be arranged for b}^ the instructor. The making of S3^rup 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 an^^one. 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 inSTORV OF THE FARM removctl from the fire, stirrcMl for a tune to secure unifomiity of graTiulation. and then poured into sniall moulds of an>' sort, paper or tin, to harden. No su^^j^estions as to the disposition of the product will be needed. The record of lliis study ma}' consist of : 1. A diai^-ani of the apj^iratus in place in a tree that is properly tapped, with ex])lanations. 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. Tahb. XXIII. NATURE'S SOIL-CONSERVING OPERATIONS '* Behold this compost! behold it well! Perhaps every mite has once formed part of a sick person — yet behold! The grass of spring covers the prairies. . . The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all 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 tJiem at the last.'' — Walt Whitman {The Compost). Natiire'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 full}-. 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 docs not ground-cover. ^'/. FlftL» Pig. 68. Diagram of a section of a pnrtly wooded hill. /, oritjinal contour of the hill slope; m, contour assumed after tilling of the fiel Is; n, in-wash of soil above; and o, out -wash of soil below. extensively destroy the roots nor remove She fines tlie surface with the heav- ing of winter frosts. She stirs the deeper j^arts by the borings of earthwonns, by tlie excavating of bum )\vs for the homes of mammals, and by the overturn of the roots of windfall trees. It is here a little and there a little, but in the long run it is thoroughly done. We can see the contrast be- 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 sHpping 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 co\-er herbage at the edge of the woodland. When the field lies below, a hollow is fomicd 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-cox'cr 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 wdth very bad management, that the organic products of one season arc 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 \ . xx\ ^ 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 178 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM such leaves will be fouml. Commingled with the leaves are ])ieces of stems and bark and t^^^gs. Strips of birch bark lon.t^ persist, being rendered well-nigh moisture-proof by their abimdant resin. Under the rccogniziible lea\-es 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 earthwonns and mille- pedes and pill-bugs and spring-tails and many insect larv^ae 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 j^lant materials to the soil. Numberless roots are holding the humus together. The>' ne\'er 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 hke 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 enricliment 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-co\-cr is not more useful than is the turf -forming ground-cover her- bage. Great and small are colaborcrs 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 a:ced 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 rene-wed 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 drcay Youth presses — ever giy and beautiful youth In all its beiutiful 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 ^-ise man of old said, "In the place where the tree falleth there shall it he." Yes, if it escape the woodcutter, it Hes there; but it does not lie very long. The great oak that crashes to earth, crushing everything in its path, hes 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 enciunber 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 i8o THE PASSING OP THE TREES i8i Fig. 70. Three insect larvae that hve 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 soHd 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 larv£E perforate the log heaps when in a crumbling red-rotten condition; and white grubs m.ix 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 siure to find them. Stripping off the bark from an old log, we are pretty sure to find fungus-eating animals of several sorts: various beetles, cockroaches, millepedes, sow-bugs and the minute white cylindric legless lavvse of fimgus-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- ''^g;JL^offoS!^"rfi?e-'flT(ia^'5- mies, also— salamanders, that iS^)."' ^ ^^^"'^"^^^^ ^^"^^^y Also, we find true I82 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM squeeze in under the loose bark; woodpeckers, that cut deep holes to find the borers; and raccoons and bears that tear rotten lo<,-s 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 bod}', with a bro\\Ti shield covering the first segment behind tlie head, and a tuberculate, spinous skin. These are moth lar\'ns fig. 7o.r. II. Beetle larvae, (Order Colcoptcra) having a distinct head, usually small legs also, no hvovm shield on the first segment after the head, and a great variety of form and sire. Beetles are the most important of wood-destroying insects, and a nu:nber of the families of beetle lar^^ae may be recog- nized by the following characters : 1. The tme borers (members of the families Buprestidae and Cerambycidaj), ha\'ing 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 (Scohlidrc) , having short, thick, arcuate bodies tliat are usually legless, naked, wrinkled, and white. 3. "Wire-worms" (Elaterida?), having very smooth cyUndric, elongate bodies, small legs, shining yellowish or brown skin, and a homy disc ter- minating tlie abdomen above, tlie margin of the disc being toothed or sculptured (fig. ^oy). THE PASSING OF THE TREES 183 4. "Glow-worms" (Lampyrida)), having the body elongate tapering to the ends, flattened on the back, with weU-developed legs and usually a pig- mented skin. 5. "White grubs" (Scarabasid^), 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 larv^ (Pyrochroida^) , having the body very thin and flat, its sides parallel, the legs weU developed, the skin brown, and a pair of stout upturned hooks at the end of the abdomen. III. Fly larvce (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 Iar^^ae (Mycetophilid^), of minute size, white and soft, usviaUy occurring gregariously imder bark. 2. Snipe-fly larvae (Leptid^), of similar form but larger and with the pointed front end of the body of a deep brown color, usuaUy found in rotting wood (fig. 702) 3. Crane-fly larvffi (Tipulidag), less tapering, more cylin- dric, with the head end more blimtly 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 smootlily-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. l84 NATUR.\L HISTORY OF THE FARM One obscr\'cs in the w" long and numerous, as in the paniclcd white aster, one knows the plant is likely to spread. He who digs them should dig obser\'antly, 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 ra]:)id and complete development. There are no years of long waiting for results. They will give their full effect the first season. So, wliile we are waiting for the trees to attain their dignity and for the shrubs to grow to blooming size, we plant herbaceous perennials. Native \\ald perennials are best suited to informal planting. In using them about our grounds, there are just a few things that need alwaj-s to be remembered : 1. To ])lant 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 \\ill drop gently do\\ii 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 \vintcr colors of bark or berries, or for any other effect that suits our fancy; nature has something for every place and purpose. In the wildwood we may see under what conditions each thing thrives best. And anyone can plant successfully who will observe and imitate nature's ways of using each sort. If we wish to attract birds, we will plant berry-bearing bushes and vines : such shrubs as buffalo-berry, shadbush, black-berried elder, viburnums, wild black currant, and blueberries: such vines as wild grape, honeysuckles and clematis. A spray of sweet-fern (Cotnptonia asplenifolia) . 202 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM Suggestions as to the natural functions of such materials in the beautifying of our cn\'ironincnt will be found in Chapters i6, 32, and 48. In the unmutilatcd wildwood one may see what elements of grace or of beauty each species may lend to a landscape. Let no one dcsi)air 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 ])lanled in suital )lc places. Good taste is what is needed, and an a])preci- 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 shotdd 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 ha\'e gro\\Ti should be obser^xd. 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 nimaber 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 foixas studied, a tabular statement under column headings as follows : Name of plant. -P, . ^ ^ ^ moisture. Reqiurement as to 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 stulT and the setting of it in permanent plantings where such are needed, and where the beautiful wild things, so rapidly disappearing, may be presen'cd for future genera- tions. Something more educational than the ordinary *'ivy day" and "arbor day" pcrfonnances 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, "^ath 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 \sdth 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. Othcn\dse, 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 nurser}^ and gi\'ing 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 hud 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 climaps, 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 imderling slirubbery into subjection again. So, after the cutting of a wood, the first season it looks thin and bare, and the stumps stand out boldh\ 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 2o6 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM trees and bushes; and then\'iftcT it is a wood a^^ain, 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 maxnnum 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, eflective, 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 gro\Hh. 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 intcr\-als between the clum])S, 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 som'le tips, and makes another downward thrust on^ the other side. In doing this, she brushes roughly against bursting anthers, filling the hairy coat of her body and legs with pollen; and she rubs stigmas, also, depositing pollen u])()n their moist tips. Figure 83 shows where the nectar is, and ex])lains these movements of the bees. The nectar is in a basin, out of the center of which arise the fi\'e stout styles, and it is fenced round aboiit by a close-set palisade of stamens. It can be reached only from above. It caimot all be reached from any one position (hence the successi\^e tlirusts 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 reserv^ed for those that are endowed with suitable nectar-gathering apparatus. A little burrowing bee, Halicius 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 do^^"n to the nectar-cup: so she gathers i^ollen and in trampling about over the anthers tramples the stigmas as well and de]X)sits pollen on them. A little grecn-and-gold bee, Augochlora by name, of size intennediate between Fig. 83. Diagram of a section of an apple blos- som, j, sepal; k, petal; / , 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 ra.\nd succession and gleaning their food products thoroly. They are little disturbed by a person quietly watching them. Perhaps the possession of a sting may ha\'e 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 ^^afte^/ketcaf).^^"' ""^ ^^''''"' -«-/—. ^^out ncrvously, mak- ing circuitous flights between visits, and manifesting great wariness. A hand- some banded syrphus-fly (fig. 84) settles Hghtly 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. 2i6 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM The pollen of the apple is freely exposed, and there are many chance \'isitors that nibble at it, such as house-flies and beetles. But the insects that can reach the nectar are rather few. Bumblebees and hone}'bees arc the most persistent and efficient distributors of jx^llon. All the bees are equipped for carr}'ing i:)ollcn abundantl\' b\' reason of the bristb' plumose hairs that clothe their bodies, and tliat make veritable pollen brushes (see figs. 105 and 106). When rain falls constantly in blossojning tuinc, the apple trees set little fruit because the bees are kci)t awa>' from them: but when the sun shines, the busy hiun of their prodigious acti\4t}' is the sure forerunner of an apple crop. Study 30. Observations on Apple Blossoms and Their Visitors Tliis study should be begim 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 nuinerous 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 droj^lcts of nectar. Tlicn make a dia- grajn 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 \\'iU be best. Rain will dri\'e 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 indi\ddual insect nets, C3^anide 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 abuadant blossoms within reach from the ground, will be best. If wild crab-apple trees or even haw-apples are more con- venient, they will serve equally well. The visitors will be seen, coming and going, or flitting from flower to flower, each kind after its o^^^l 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 conaings and goings and how they obtain the nectar, should be observed care- fully. Then a specimen of each kind of visitor should be captured for identification. The record of this study should consist of : 1. A diagram of a longitudinal section of the flower as mentioned above. 2. A similar diagram, with a bee added in the position taken when obtaining nectar. Show position of proboscis and feet carefully. *A cyanide bottle for killing insects may be made by placing half an ounce, more or less, of cyanide of potassium (a deadly poison) in the bottom of any wide-mouthed bottle, covering it with dry sawdust or other good absorbent, pressing down on top of it a few discs of stiff blotting paper, and affixing a POISON label. The discs should fit the inside of the bottle tightly and will stay in place better if Hghtly 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. 2i8 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 3. A list of all the apple blossom \nsitors ol3served, with data as far as obtainable incorporated in a talkie prepared with the following coliunn headings: Name (of the insect; ask the instructor if you do not know it). Seeking (pollen or nectar. Do not guess at tliis; better leave the space blank). Alights where (touching what parts of the flower). Carries pollen on (what parts of the body). Touches stigmas with (what parts of the body). Reaches nectar with (what proportion of proboscis, or of whole body, inserted into the flower) per minute. Nimiber of flowers visited - between flights (i.e. between the longer flights). Activity (relatively quick or slow, vcsltj or approachable, direct or circuitous, etc.). Fitness (well or ill-adapted for pollinating apple blossoms). If there be any diffictdty arising out of the crowd, conclud- ing observations may, with advantage, be made individually, at one's o\\ti 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 natiiral than that we shotdd be interested in birds. Their appeal to us is manifold. Their colors are beautiftd, 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 himian society aspires to, but has not yet fully attained. And if aU 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 timeful and so artful. 219 220 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM This is the a^e of birds. They outnumber, in species, all other air-breathing vertebrates put together. Doubtless, their ability to fly and there! >y to find food an'd to escape enemies lias had much to (1( ) with this prcponderence. Hardly any other li\-ing things have acquired such power of flight, and no others have established regular seasonal migi'ations 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 pennanent 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 ntmiber, including all the song-birds that we value most higWy, are summer residents. These return to us e\'er3^ 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 builcHng, located in safe and congenial surroundings. It is a ]:)leasant 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 obsen^ation will reveal — peculiarities of color and attitude, of flight and of notes, of haunts and of Fig. 85. Simple types of home- made nest- ing boxes for birds. THE SONG-BIRDS OF THE FARAI 221 manners toward man and toward each other. A few, Hke 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 w^orth more than all the descriptions. Study 31. Song-birds of the Farm This study is intended primarily for those who do not know the local song-birds at sight.* An instructor who knows them is assumed; yet the student working alone may easily do what is here outlined and identify his birds with the aid of some of the excellent bird books now generally available. Field glasses (or opera glasses) while not absolutely necessary will be a great aid in field work on birds. Dry weather will be desirable, and a shift of meeting time to an early morning hour (when birds are most in evidence) may be advantageous. Prepared bird-skins may be used by the instructor in point- ing out recognition characters. The program of work will consist of a short trip made quietly along some woodsy lane where birds congregate, and across upland and lowland meadows and by a willow-bor- dered stream, observing the different species of song-birds, one by one, as opportunity offers. Careful obser\"ation3 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 obser\'ations 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 THi: FARM The record of this study may consist of a table of recognition characters of local song-birds, prepared with coliLinn 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 ek'\'ation, whether in the treetops or on the tnmlvs, 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 a short distance on the living bird). In flight ("flash colors"; i. e., addi- itional marldngs that appear in outspread wings and tail). Perching attitude. Social habit (nuinbcr seen together, resting or fljdng. 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 intennittcnt, etc.). Familiarity (how close can you approach: estimate in yards). Remarks. Recognition colors 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 coiintr}^ 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 anns and crowns; and the elegant outlines of their leafy sprays out- spread against the sky. At a little distance they appear, 223 224 XATUFLVL HISTORY OP THE FARM not as indi\'i duals, but as masses, with their architecture hidden, and their foHage piled in shocks of green, full of lights and shadows. And on the far horizon they are still in our \'iew, si^read out in innumerable companies in a long thin line where overspread with pale haze. The well-grown cliunp of trees shows us, from the out- side, only its leaves, with just enough of glimi^ses of supijort- ing framework to suggest stabiHty. 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 w^e 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 overtiuTL of a single spray sets it grotesquely awr\\ How the outside of a tree appears in the foreground of the landscape, depends on the size and form and niunber of its leaves, and on the way they are held up into the light. Foli- age masses are endlessly varied. They are ciunulous niasses in the sugar-maple — ^masses of broad, shade-resistant leaves heaped u]) and compound-heaped hke the front of a thunder- cloud. They are cancellate masses in the white birch, with its small thin lea\-es in open order like latticework. They are frondose masses in ailanthus and sumac and oilier trees ha\'ing compound leaves. They are soft and fun-y c\iinders, rather s^Tnmetrically arranged, in the spruces and tamarack; and other trees show all grades between these tyix^s. 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 spra>'s, that are poised in the hollows of the woods with exquisite iTace. The softest ef- TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER LANDSCAPE 225 fects of all are produced by the small pale lca\'cs 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 speclded 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 gro^\^I. When we walk beneath the trees of a forest cover, the beauty of their foliage is lost on us, we are such p}'gmies, 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-lcavcd single trees. So, nature makes of every open wotxlland glade, a tkinning s>'lvan ])ictiire. Study 32. Observations on the Decorative Features of Tree Growth in Early Summer The weather, when this study is undertaken, must be such as ^^^ll permit one to sit do\\Ti out-of-doors and study for a time, ^^^th comfort, the details of the landscape outspread before him. If the student has no familiarity with the decorati\-e 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 S]:)ecial stud\', or maps sho^^ang outlines of tree masses, may be prepared in advance and suppHed by the instructor. The program of work for this study ma}^ 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 imicr and outer aspects of some small clump of trees. 2. An examination of leaf sprays as to leaf an-angement and its relation to light cx])osure, and to the fonnation of the larger foliage masses that adoni 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, fonn 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 unpnmed, 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 trtmks, 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- groimd; in the exposed or in the sheltered places; with reasons therefor. Individual Exercises for the Spring Term Five sliuliis follow, \vhich, like those for the I'all Tcnn (pages 126 ct seq.)y are intended to be made by the student working alone. The first three may be entered \\\)o\\ 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 a\ailable 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 wall therefore have to be obtained in ad\'ance of midertaking 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 colimin reser\'ed for bird names, and each of the other colunms de\'oted to one da}-'s observ^ations, the date, time of day, and relevant weather conditions being written at the toj). Following each bird's name, there should be written in the jjrojxT date colunms, the obsen-ations made uj^on it: number and sex seen at first appearance; arri\'al of sexes, and of young birds, separately; arrival of "waves" of migrants; etc. TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER LANDSCAPE 229 Optional Study 7. A Calendar of Spring Growth This study is for one's own dooryard. It is intended to foster acquaintance with the plants one lives with all the while. These are apt to be choice things that have been sought out and planted, and other things that have come in uninvited, and that we call weeds. Nature makes no dif- ference in her treatment of them; the rain falls and the Sim 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 pimy 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 imder 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 Httle 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 locaHty, he should first know where the near-by places are in which the wild flowers abound, and then he should so lay out his Date of blossoms 230 NATUR-VL HISTORY OF TIIH FAR.\r walks as to cover the greatest variety of situations; for thus he \\-ill see the largest variety of flowers. For record, the field obsen^ations may be entered in a table prepared with the following colimin headings: Name (ask instructor if you do not know it, presenting, always, a specimen for identification), first a])i)earance. maxinuun. last appearance. Relation to leaf -unfolding (before, with, or after the leaves). Duration of a single flower (from first opening to ^^'ithering). Movements of { with day and night. flower-i)arts ( ^^'ith 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 obsen^ations 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 23- lo. N'OTKWORTUV FLOWKRINC; SIIR UBBERY OF THE FARM Br Location Area covered Conditionst Date of flowering Character of foliage I. Azalea 2. Maple-leaved arrow wood 3. Kl'.rr* 4. l-'lowering Dogwood 5. ( )thcr Dogwood* 6. Vihumum* 7. Sumach* 8. Witch Hazel f). Spicebush 10. Button wood 1 1 . Willow* 12. Mountain Ash i.V Juneberr>' 14. Any other I' :nbinations I . Border plantings 2. Cover plantings 3- Mixed-specimen plantings *Any SDecieS. but SniK-Ifv nrhir^k or 4' nt rnnla*- 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, hut 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) . Stunmer 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 liAn'ng 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 gro\Arth. We can remove their competitors and destroy their enemies and stir the soil about them, but natrue 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 2i2> 2^.\ NATUR.\L HISTORY ( >!• Till- FARM season gets warm enough, in order to hold a i)lace among ajrjrr^ssive comix'titors. To be outnin in the race for hght is fatal. So, they put forth tender shoots with all the leaves they can carr>', leaves being their working capital. So, in early sununer, all the world is full of soft green tints. New growth is evei^-where. In dark-hued evergreens, like henilock and spruce, the contrast between the pale new slioots and the mature old ones is very striking. In the heat of summer the new gro\Ni:h will l\arden and new reserves of food will be acciunulated. This is the ordinary routine for the larger perennial plants tliat 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 vsnthering on our lawns; and like it nre the adder's-tongue and the sciuiiTcl-coni, and many other early spring flowers that dwell under the hca\^ 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 so^^'n early and mature early. Some, like com, are semi- tropical, and are sown late and grow well only in hot weather. Our hottest spells are proverbial **com 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 com 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 shfX)t u]) 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 OF THE SEASON 235 In nature, annual plants occupy the spaces left temporarily unoccupied by perennials. They fill the niches, both spatial and seasonal. So, when we move them into our open fields, they enjoy unaccustomed abundance of room and light. We change conditions and increase their yield, but we do not greatly change the nature of any of the plants. Out in the clover-field, we see a few stalks of rye that have spnmg 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 imdue 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." W^e 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 Till- FARNf Study 33. The Progress of the Season The program of Uiis study includes a trip over the fields aiid K'^rdens of the fann, imp in hand, noting', inspecting and rt'conhyg the more striking' seasonal activities of the growing things. To detennine whether vegetati\-e increase of field-crop plants is goin^' 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 amiotated list may be made of all the crops ob- ser\-ed, 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 wnth plant- lice, etc.). Include, besides field-crops, fruit and truck-crops and pastures. XXXIV. THE CLOVERS "Noiu, 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 ptirely agricultural figure of speech. No one who has seen the pigs or the heifers turned out into a clover-field of a sumnier 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 agricultiiral 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- 22>7 23^ NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM -'iJ-; Pig. 86. White clover. (This and other drawings bearing the same monogram pre- pared by Miss Olive N. Tuttle for this book. lion for subsequent crops. Most other crops deplete the soil, but the clovers enrich it, and restore its ftTtility. 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- binders for holding togeth- er the surface layers of eroding hill slopes; excel- lent cover-crops for the orchard in the dr>^ season; and excellent plants for the la\sTi 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 fk.. 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, ^'^f^ Fig. 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 TTIlv FARM imported true clovers of very different appearance: the tall, branchin*^^ rab- bit's foot clover, Nnth 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 j-elknv-flowered hop-clovers. The s\\'eet 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 liardest and most unpromising of soils. The medics differ from the sweet clovers in having bent or spirally twisted pods, instead of straight ones. They also have shorter flower clusters. One of them, alfalfa, is of vast importance as a forage crop. It has purple flowers. 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 Trijolhim are native American plants. But all of them are interesting and worthy of a little careful study. Fig. 91. Viii.w-hop clover. Fig. 90. Rabbin's -foot clover (after Britten and Brown). 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 tliis 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, etcj. 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). .p rform (diagram). \nodules (relative size, form, abimdance, 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 TIIIC FARM Flower-clusters 2. The Flower and Fruit Niune (red clover, sweet clover, alfalfa, etc.). fonn (diaj^nnn a lon^Mtudiiial section of it). Xo. of flowers (in an average entire cluster). Xo. of clusters (on a i)lant of average size) . corolla (color, fonn, etc.). calyx (lei;gth in relation to corolla, hairiness, etc.). fragrance visitors (insects seeking nectar). Seed-pod fonn (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 OF THE FARM "Excellent herbs had our fathers of old, Excellent herbs to ease their pain, Alexanders and Marigold, Eyebright, Orris arid Elcampane, Basil, Rocket, Valerian, Rue (Almost singing themselves they run). Vervain, Dittany, Call-me-to-you, Cowslip, Melilot, Rose-of-the-Sun. Anything green that grew out of the mould Was an excellent herb to our fathers of old/' — Kipling (Our Fathers of Old). Our great demands upon the plant world are for food, clothing, and shelter. Given these essential things, we then demand other things for pleasure or adornment. To neces- sary plain food, we add flavorings ; to textiles, we add dyes ; to walls and roof, we add decorations; and then we enrich oiir 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 ])oisoiis if u.^cd in excess. Many poisons arc used medicinally to stimulate the latent j)o\vcrs 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 drawTi. Straw- berries and ma}'-a]ii^lcs and other raw fruits act as poisons in the case of individuals. Many foods act like niedicines on the system. Blackberries are mildly astringent : i:)runes are laxative: asparagus is diuretic: lettuce is so]^orific — these elTects var^'ing with personal idios>-ncras\'. 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". Truh', "what is one man's meat may be another's poison". It was one of the earliest tasks of manlcind to ex])lore 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 fo()d-])lants 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 pul)lished 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 ])lants, 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 hiunan flesh. THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM 245 Fig. 92. Yellow sorrel. Everything was good for something, tho in some cases the good was un- discovered. Thus, Gerard says concerning "divers other wild campions" (Herbal, 2d ed. 1633, page 474) : "The natures and vcrtues 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 contribute to our welfare. Only foods proper are of sustaining value, but many harmless food ad- juncts, especially the •1 ^ n • r Fig. 93. Round-leaved mDllow; the fruit (shown milder naVOrmgS or at the side) is known as ••Cheese." 246 NATURAL HISTORY OF TUK FARM vegetable products, add to the zest of our eating and to the value of our dic>t. ( )f A-egetable flavorings there is no end. There are acid fla\'ors, like those of the lea\'es of the sorrels, long since suiii)lantcd in our diet by artificially prepared vinegars (yet what eliild of the field does not still nibble at sorrel leaves?). There are jmngcnt flavors in the pej^pers and in many crucifers — in the lea\'es of the cresses, in the roots of radish and horse-radish, and in the seeds of pepper- grass and of mustard. It is flaA^or and not food that cliildren get froni chewing mallow "cheeses" (fig. 93), or slippery- elm bark, or linden buds. There are pleasant oleraceous flavors in kale and cabbage and cauliOower; and then there are the flavors of the savory herbs, tlie subject of this study. The beasts also desire these ]:)leasant adjuncts to their diet. Cats like catnip and valerian. Dogs like certain of the goose foots. Cattle lo\'e to crop the twigs of apple and hawthorn Fig 94. A pair of leaves of catnip. and CVCn the shootS of the l)oison-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 preser\'cd 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 hrnaself upon them, so as to carry the aroma with hirn. 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, ser\ing for perfimie, 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 stimmer, 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 fainilies of plants: the mints and the umbelworts. Well-known, often cultivated members of the mint family are sage, thyme, spearmint, peppermint, sweet majoram, sumimer 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 Till-: X AT URAL TIISTORV OF Till- FARM been the earliest of these. Gerard re])()rts Pliuy as liaviiig said that "The smell of mint doth stir up the mhide and the taste to a greedy desire of meat"; and f(>r himself he adds, "Mint is marvellous wholesome for the stomaeke". (Herbal, p. 68 1). To the modem cook or confectioner, the herbs themsches are hardly kno\\Ti, tho their essences are used to excess. But (xir great grandmothers knew theni, grew them, cut them, cured them and then seasoned \\-ith them. The plants were gathered about the time when their first flowers were opening, dried ra]ndly to presence their essential oils, and ])ut away for winter use. Then they were used with discrimination. It was experience, not chemical analysis, that settled u]:)on sage and simimer savory as proper seasoning for sau- sage and roasts ; upon parsley and th\iiie as suitable for stews and SOU])S. 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 lea\-es in a half pint of boiling water, and tlien strain and sweeten to taste. Such teas were at once beverages and "simple home remedies." Penm-royal 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 admirastered. If one had a cold, a pleasant cup of horehound tea (happily supplemented by good hygienic Fig. 95. Pennyroy 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 OF THE FARM also in situations a])i)roi)riatc to them. By the waterside are marsh-mint {Hlephila ciliata) and watermint {Mentha cana- densis), as sweet as any mints of the gardens. On the hilltops are fine wild bcrgamots 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 tliat every one should know. Study 35. Aromatic Herbs of the Farm The program of wc^rk for this study \\dll 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 sarsa])arilla, 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.). Growiih-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 " Uiuler the greenwood tree Who loirs to lie with me, A fid tune his merry note I'tito the secret bird's thro(}t, Come hither, come hither, come hither." — Shakespeare (.45 You Like It). In summer we live nearest the trees. AVe exchange our solid roofs for their latticed crowns, and sit beneath them in the open air. They spread green canoj)ies 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 svunmer, 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 aftcnvards, and underneath in the shadow, it adds enough new growth to hold a few green leaves 252 THE TREES IN SUiMMER 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 Fig. 97. Leaf outlines; w, 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 imder way; and others, like the black oaks, hasten slowly, taking two years for mattiring a crop of acorns. So, at any time, we shall find some trees bare of flower and fruit, and others with one or both in various stages of development. There is nothing more interesting about the trees than this wonder- ful variety of habit. How interesting they are, you may 254 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM never know by merely readin^^ 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- gro^^'ing 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 conijjound). arrangement (opposite, alternate, whorled, etc.). fonn (diagram a single leaflet, if compound). Leaves { size (length by width in inches). surface (rough or smooth, dull or shin\', hairy or spiny, etc.). mari^nn (diagram a bit of it). Shoots THE TREES IN SUMMER ^55 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 jto date (on average new shoots), leaves | 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 Fruiting height (flower and fruit borne at what distance from the ground, measured along bole as to size ^ and branch). of smgle flower (diameter in milli- meters), of cluster (length and breadth in millimeters), as to sex (perfect-i^*.^., stamens and pistils in the same flower; monoecious— ^'.^., stamens and pistils in different flowers on same plant; or dioecious— ij'.^., stamens and pistils borne on different plants). of clusters(diagram.; t\\4ce, if of two as to form ^ , '^^^'^• of flower (diagram in longitudinal color. section, showing parts). 256 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM arninireineut (tliui^rain in position on stem; in cluster, if it grows in one). Fruit ^ staj^e (i)r()i)ortion of gro\\1:h attained to date), structure (dia<;nun 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 si^mificant as indicating different seasonal habits on the part of different trees. XXXVII. WEEDS OF THE FIELD "/w tke garden more grows Than the gardener soius." — Spanish Proverb. Weeds were not invented by the Devil to plague the fanner. 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 fanner 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. AVhat 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 dandehon, thistle, hawkweed, etc., travel by air and settle in every field. Seeds of cocklebur, burdock, pitchforks (fig. 39), etc., travel by pack animals, 257 r5S NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM and t;() wh(.Te\-c'r the anuuals carry them. These arc less ubiquitous. Other seeds of weeds are distributed with the nuid tliat adheres to the feet of men and animals, and to the wheels of veliicles. This is the chief mode of distributi(jri for oiu* coi'.unonest weeds. The seeds become embedded in a thin la\'er of mud, and when dro])]K^d, find themselves well situated for growing. This method properly plants them. They travel, also, with the fanner's cargoes ; with his ha\' and straw and feed and with his im]:)erfeetly winnowed grain; and they are distrilnited along with these commcxUties to remote regions. So, in any place, we find the new and unusual weeds, like cur western oxybaphus, and the Russian tliistle, first appccLving along the railroad track, where dropped from passing cars. Weeds are such opportunists ; the>' make the most of small favors. If they can not get more, they will take less. One well-fed cocklebtu- 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. Bvit the latter does not give up because soil is barren and water scarce. It may develop only a few lea\'es 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- hi^h to a man; but on the lawn, after repeated clipping, they will bloom so close to the ground that the mower ]3asses harmlessly over their heads. Morning-glories, finding no trellis at hand, mil cheerfully accc])t a conistalk in its stead, or in the absence of all support, will s])read over the bare ground. Nature sows many kinds of seeds in e\ery 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 cailti valor. Fortunately for the faniK-r, this is the fate of nearly all plants that spring from WEEDS OF THE FIELD 259 seeds that travel by air. There are others, however, that have staying quaHties, 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 com 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 w^eeds, 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 door^veed and spurge (fig. 100), are not a match for taller weeds and can flourish only on bare ground. Fig. 98. Beautiful weed: yarrow; h, sheep sorrel 260 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM Successful weeds must be al:)lc to thrive on the treatment accorded to the crop \\'ith 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 j^erennials that are able to withstand browsing and tram]3ling. So, in the fields, they must be al)le to mature a crop witliin the lifetime of the cultivated species with which they are associated. Since good plowing puts an end to both alike, a new start must be made from seed. Between \)\ow- ing and plowing, there- fore, a new crop of seed must be matured. Hence, the im])ortant weeds of the coniiield are annuals. Perennials are of little consequence in tilled fields. The weeds that in season and habits and require- ments are most like the crops \\'ith which they grow, arc the ones that They are natural com- FlG. 99. Sun prints of camomile and carrot. give the fanner the most trouble, 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 i)lants seed of his own crop at the WEEDS OP THE FIELD 261 depth most favorable for quick and early gro\\i:h. 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, /.paint-brush; 2, moth-mullein; 3, evening primrose; 4, creeping spurge; j, 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 bani\'ard; or ^^'ith seeds earried in by the stock turned on to feed; or with seeds gathered from a weedy roadside and carried in on wagon wheels. The farmer, al)()\'e all ])ersons, should know that V » ^ iil^' nature will be raising ^^^L i \LStOS^ something on e\-ery bit of '' ^^ ^ .>llfJ*Bfc: ground ; and that if he destroy her more pennan- cnt cro]js, that something will be weeds. Weeds fol- low the ax and the sc\'the and the plow as stunmer 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 extennination to make a place for ragAvecds 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 CrOJ)- Fio. 102. Better than weeds in the fence- , . row — the maple-leaved viburnum. plant, IS to hun a weed and to be treated according!}-, then in increased labor and in the sweat of his brow he must ]jay the cost of his stupidity. Pig. 101. Le-ives of rag-weed at all ages; a seed-leaves; b, c, d, e, successively older leaves; m.n.o,p,g.r,s, leaves successively formed on a fruiting spray; 2, 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). Size. Fonii (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 com 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. 7. Seeds. Crop. XXXVIII. SIWLMKR WILD FLOWERS "He is happiest 'who hath power To ^either 'wisdom from a flower, And 'u'dke his heart in every hour To pleasant gratitude." — Wordsworth. The splendor of summer would not be complete without its splendid flowers. They jnmctuate the slopes. They adorn the roadsides. The}- mellow the air with fragrance. They fill the fields with the huinming of bees, and with the flashing win<^'S of brilliant butterflies. The summer flowers are not like those of sprin<^^ They grow more openly, and fling out their colors like banners by the roadsides. Spring fl(^wers flash up on fragile evanescent \c I ^ :^^K '^'- stems, solitary or in little clusters f/-=2'--^-^^ a "*" ' oi unstudied grace ; but the summer flowers take their time, developing first strong stems and abimdant leafage, and then producing great compovmd clusters in fine mechani- cal adjustment. Saint John's worts and campions and sunflowers and daisies — how lustily they crowd to fill the wa>'side with their banked- up foliage masses, and then how gloriously they bloom! Summer flowers are, moslh', 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 otlier figvvorts are hung out in o])en panicles; those of the cc^mmon mullein are in long stiff" erect spikes. Many of the mint flowers are in shorter and denser s])ikes, but most of the lesser flowers are Fic;. KKi. Turtk-heads (Che- lone glabra:) e, the flower from the side; h, the same with a bumble-bee entering. 2(.4 SUMMER WILD FLOWERS 26= Fig. 104. Meadow-sweet with its feast outspread. 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 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 pig. 105 competition for the services of the bees. Their patronage is desired. So the flowers in their natural evolution have perfected ways of drawing visitors, that singularly parallel the methods of the comer 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 corj^nb This last Side view of the ab- domen of a bee, showing pollen brushes. Pol- FiG. 106. len -gathering honly'S.'^^ or umbel, as on a common table. 266 NATLKAL HISTORY ( »F TllH FARM arrangement is doubtless n\ost convenient for the visitors; it is the one niDst coniinonly 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 oiTensive spines, or glandular hairs. The nectar of certain trumpet-like con- \( )l\-ulus flowers can be sucked only by long-tongued hum- ming-bird moths. That in the tightly- closed bilabiate corollas on themon- kc}--flowers can be had only by bum- blebees, having strength to o])en 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 \'isitors of many sorts. The colors of summer flowers are in themselves very beautiful and satisfying. Their fonns are wonderfully varied and interesting. But colors and forms are alike increasingly instructive when we learn what roll they fill in the drama of hfe. And we shall enjoy our coutnct with natuie better Pig. 107. Beard-tongue {Pentstemon pubescens) a, the flower; b. section of the same, showing the trigger- 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 this stamen shakes pollen from the others down upon its own back. (From the author's "General Biology.") SUMMER WILD PLOWERS 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 stud}4ng their characters and habits. All the showier sorts of wild flowers of one small locality should be observ^ed, gathered and compared. They will be found in imcultivated places by the roadside and streamside and in the woods. They v;ill 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. SDMI" IXSECTvS AT Wr)RK OX FAKM CROPS "Thai ivhirh the palmencorm hath left hath the locust eaten; and that which the locust hath left hath the cankenvorm eaten; and that which the cankeru'orm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten. Awake, ye drunkard, and weep; and howl, all ye drinkers of wine, because of the vew 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 ^reat lion. lie hath laid my vine waste, and barked in y fig-tree; he hath made it clean bare, and cast it away; the branches tJiereof are made white.'' —The Book of Joel, i :4-7. Before there were famis, the plants we cuki\'ate all had their insect enemies. They developed together in the wild- wood. The priniiti\'e farmer sotight 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 sup])lics, and to develop in extraordinary numbers. Potato beetles, hatched in the garden, find food plants waiting for them in ainmdancc; they do not ha\'e to search the motmtain-sidc for a few straggling wild i)lants on which to lay their eggs. Thus the fanner 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 o\^^l 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 ujion tlie 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 SOME INSECTS AT WORK ON FARM CROPS 269 Pig. 108. A leaf-devouring caterpillar (Acro7iycta) 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 pimcturing insects are bugs of various sorts and aphids and scale insects. These penetrate the epidermis with their fio. 109. A sucking insect: the beaks and suck out the plant juices }liTJ^s):"^ ^"^ iOncopeUus 270 NATURAL HISTORY oi- Till: FAR.\r from -^itliin. Those thus escape ])oisons (le])osiled upon the surface of the plant, and are killed by spraying only when some contact in- secticide (like kero- sene emulsion, or various ])rc]xira- tions of nicotine, etc.) is thro^vnupon their bodies. Both types of feeders we often find side by side. We go Fk;. no. A colony of aphids on a leaf of Ceanolhiis' • -,^.„ „ ,.„uu^„p f,plJ h a svrphus-flv larva, feeding- i, a wmged aphid; intOacaDDagC-neiQ, J^----\%-^^^^^ where Httle white butterflies flutter above the rows, and we find their green lar\^ae, "cabbage- worms," stretched at length upon the surfaces of the leaves placidly eating out scallops in the margins bage leaves we find whole colonics 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 s])ecies. The coniinon potato-beetle eats other things besides ]X)tato, 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 fr<:)m ''^IcJJ.^gflT'UrMaltt)! Other lands. They have been brought On loose cab- ^•m Fig. 111. The nine-spottad ladybird beetle and its larva. SOME INSECTS AT WORK ON FARM CROPS 271 Fig. 113. An aphid skin with a hole in its back , whence has 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 luiusually difficult to control. Under natural conditions, there is an occa- emerged a para- g^^j^^j exccssive iucrcase of foragiug insects. Hordes of them suddenly appear, and destroy the foliage of one or two species of plants. For tliis 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 b}' side to keep down the colony. Ladybird beetles and their larvae (fig. m) consume the apnidS bodily. p^^^ J14 ^ parasitized moth larva on a blue-grass top: T flrr>'wi'no- -fl^' la-r some of its parasites have spun their cocoons beside it. j^ciK.'^w iii^ ii\ iclT- others, on the grass-blade above, b, shows an easy VflP (-firr TT-)^ d-n/l method of hatching out the adult parasites from the vdc Viis- J- J--; etna cocoons. (From the author's "General Biology"). 272 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM syr]:)hus-fly larvae iiu])alc tlicin and suck their Ijlood. This destruction is WToug:ht openly. But greater destruction is often wrought by minute parasites that feed unobser\^ed on the inteniiil tissues of the aj^liids. Their work is evident mainly in the dead and empty aphid skins, each wath a round hole in its back from wliich a little winged parasite has emerged when fully growTi. Study 39. Insects at Work on Farm Crops Tliis study may be made at any tijne exce])ting 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 foimd, 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 defonnations 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 difBcult to see. The grass and herbage is full of plant-bugs and cateriDillars, 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. vSOME INSECTS AT WORK OX FARM CROPS 2^2, 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 msect; 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. IXSI'X^TS MOLESTING FARM ANIMALS *'Thoii'rt iLt'lconte to the town; but why come here To bleed n brother poet, gaunt like thee^ Alas! the little blood I have is dear. And thin will be the banquet drawn front nir.'* — Br>ant {To a .\fosquito). In the season of black-flics, no one goes into the North Woods excc]:)t on business ; though it is late spring and the flowers are blooming everywhere and all the world is fresh and in\'iting, the flics are in the woods by day, and the mosquitos and punkics 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 ^s-ith tar-oil and other fly-rcpcllants. The wild deer lca\'e the streams and adjacent woods and go far out among the rushes in the open marsh, and stand half immersed in the water. The hogs in their pens root up the bottom of the pools and trample and roll it into a soft paste, and coat theniselves thickly with mud. This is fly-i)roof. The l)ison, als(\ 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 fta.nf. ^,r.<,^uIto. fi'^-'^ 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 ver}^ 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- Fio.116. Larva of the mosquito watct barrcls, and even tin hr&cT.tSi^).^'''^^'' cans cast upon a rubbish-heap 276 NATURAL HISTORY oF THH FARM -^'N 11: The buffalo-gnat {Sitnulium fecuarum, after Garmanj. and filled ^vith water In' the rains, often furnish the chief su])])lies of nws- (juitos to a whole nei^^hbor- hood. Few are reared in o])en water inhabited by fishes; U)r the fishes cat them. The smaller the pool, the more likely it is to contain mosquito lar\'ae. The larA'ae 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 dr\ing 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 -li\-ed, and run through quite a number of generations in a single summer; these de\elop in vast numbers when a rainy season main- tains an abtmdance of little pools. Black-flies (Family Simuliidae) develop in nnming water, and are most troublesome about woodland streams. The habits of the larvae, w^iich live upon stones, ha\e been discussed on ])ages 36 and 37. When there arc no stones in the streams, lar\'ae may be foimd 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. 1 1 7 ) love the sunshine, and their biting * .11 1 u J Fi<;- 11^- A horse-fly Cfrom the IS troublesome only by day. u. S. Bureau of Entomology; . INSECTS MOLESTING FARM ANIMALS 277 Horse-flies (Family Tabanidae) develop in moist soil or mud, usually in the beds of reedy brooks and ponds. One finds the lar^^ae (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 ^ fly^of th?hOTse' the animal and often killing it ; one under the n^by^M^SS' ^kin on the backs of cattle, causing great lumps cTw ?S'cT^ that may be readily felt by running one's hands ftudT^Ir In- ^"^'^^ ^^ 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 thtmibs 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 foUoAvs teams along the highways or about the fields, and its presence may be suspected from the frenzied action of the horses, flinging their heads u])ward. The bot-fly docs not bite ; it merely seeks to attach its eggs to the hairs about the front legs and shoulders of the horse, within reach of his mouth. But the horse instinctively 278 NATURAL HISTORY OF TTIK FARM shuns it, strikes at it, and seeks to drive it away. One may often see the eggs attaehed singly to the hairs — little oblong whitish s])ecks, glued fast, to remain during ineubation. 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 s^^'iftly- 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 punkics, 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 ha\'e an abmidant development of small subcutaneous muscles for shaking them off from the skin, and thus temporarily disposing of them with a minimum expenditure of energ}^; and their tails are equi])])cd with heavy brushes of long coarse hair, indestructible fly-brushes, which they s'^ing with considerable force and precision. One often learns this wliile engaged in milking the family cow. One of the most inane "improvements" that ever became fasliionable is the docking of the tails of horses. It is a mild fonn 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 s\ritchcd by the tail of the other; it is a mutual -bene fit association, the eflicicncy of which lies in the possession of natural full-length fly-brushes. Small as these pests are, they are capcil)le 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 biuy 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-flics, horn-flies, bot-flies, warble-flies, black-flies and other day-flying pests of animals, made in whatever time, place and mamier 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 2So NATUFLXL HISTORY OF TUE 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 fort!ii<;ht before it is needed. Egg^ "^^'iH ^^ ^'-^^^^ on the surface and all stages of development will quickly follow. Living larwe of black-flies ("turkey-gnats," "sand-flies," etc.), horse-flies and punkies and alcoliolic specimens of bot-fly and hom-fly larvae may be shown in demonstration. The record of this study may consist of a fully amiotatcd list of the ]3cstiferous insects obser\Td. The notes should cover such points as the following : Tinie and place of observation and relevant weather conditions. Kind of animal molested, and sort of molestation (buzz- ing, tickling, biting, egg-laying, etc.). Means emplo\'ed by the animals for evading or in combat- ing the pests (standing in water, in wind, in brush, switch- ing or biting them, coating their hair with mud, etc.). Breeding, places of pests. XLI. OUT IN THE RAIN '^Rainf 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 shakeji, And winter-sleeping things awaken, And look around, and rub their eyes, And laugh into life at the glad surprise; How the tongues are loosened that late were dumb, For 'the time of the singing of birds has come' ; Hoiu 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 szveet Spring rain, That callest dead things to life again! " — James Brown Selkirk (.Rai7i). From the point of view of thirsty things, the best weather is the day of rain. The earth grows browTi 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 thtmder 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 lIISnjRV (JF Till-: FARM little, and a flood of H^lit flows in on the freshened atmosphere. The rain ceases and the \-erdiire of the earth a])pears, slaked and washed clean. We do not, naturall}-, seek to kee]) out of the rain. As children, we soui^ht to be out in it. The wann summer rain was as refreshing as sunshine. It is due to our clothes that we avoid getting wet. Our modeni attire is set up with starch and glue, and the rain wilts it. For the siike 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 u])on 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 w4th their beaks; and if they get well waterproofed before the storni breaks, and if the dowTi]30ur 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 ])leasant anticipation. Flowers bend their heads. When it rains, the moisture-loving tilings 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 e\-ery- where rumiing water is ]:>erfomiing its great functions of burden-bearing, cutting, filling, leveling, and slowly cliiuiging the toi)ography of the land, and distributing all mamier 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 riave to be content with a very few general suggestions. First, before the stonn breaks, during the lull when the "thunderheads" are mounting the sky, it will be a good time to obser\^e 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 thi^ough 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 >84 NATURAL IIISTURY OF THE FARM across the current so as to feel the pehing of the pebbles that are carried by the nil ; or, by listening to the ix)uncling of the rocks in their descent of the larger gullies. Part of what the slrtana carries is floating stuff — stems and leaves, that will fall and dcca>', 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 buikhng 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 obser\^ed. One should compare newly plowed and fallow land, bare fields, meadows and woods. Certain moisture-loving animals will be seen al)road 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 obsers'cd 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 FARAI "They shall sit every man under his vine and under hisfigtree, and none shall make them afraid.'' — Micah, 4:4. The cultivated crops of the world have in the past grown mainly in fields, gardens and vineyards. Many crops have been raised in the fields, and still more in the gardens, but the vineyards have been given over mainly to one crop — the fruit of the vine. There is but one vine that fills any very large place economically: the word vine means grapevine in much of our ancient literature. Before the dawn of history, the ancient cultivator found the grape suited to his sunny hills. It was long-lived and strong-rooted, and served to bind the soil of the terraced slopes. It was resistant to drought and adaptable to situa- tion. It was responsive to care and amenable to training. It was beautiful in leafage and fragrant in flower and luscious in fruit, and in every way desirable about his home. So he made a vineyard for it, equipped with a watchtower and a wine-press, and he fenced it in. He planted and fertilized it and pnmed 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. 37). Aside from the grape, the best kno^vn of our vines are those that are raised for the singular beauty of their flowers and foliage. Splendid flowers, indeed, are those of 285 286 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM the dinibiiiK roses and honeysuckles, of the searlet tnimpet-vine, of the virij:in's-bo\ver, of the moming-^lory and the sweet pea. Most of these are fra^ant as well as beautiful. Fragrant also are the less conspicu- ous flowers of the wild grape, the clinibing hemp (Mikania scandens) of the marshes, and the apios. Vines arc 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 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 thcni arc long of reach and rapid of Fn;. 120. A spray of wild grape. Fin. 121. \'irRinia 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 i\'y 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 fimoly attached, they seem able to withstand the driving of a hurricane. Failing to find support, the shoots hang pendant, Hke 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 Till-: FARM {Cclastrus scajidots) is i)crha]3S the tallest of these, and has the bes-.t de\'elopinent of woody stems. It grows on dry wooded hills. The nioonseed {Mcnispcrmwn canadcnse) is a half-woody twiner that overruns the bushes in moist lowland ihiekets. It is one of the best of vines for shady Fk;. 122. Bittersweet, with fruit unopened. places, and it has bcautifvil foliage. The large scalloped lca\-es overla]) one another front the to]) to the ground like the slates on a roof. There are herbaceous twiners on the taller bushes also, like the bindweeds and the h()i)S. And the balsam-apple {Fxhinocystis lohata) clinibs by neat tendrils of singular efiiciency. 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 FARAI 289 Flo. 123. An herbaceous climber — climbing buckwheat. Of low-growing vines there is endless variety. They twine, they climb, they sprawl. A few of the finer flowering sorts, such as climbing roses and honeysuckles and apios, have already been mentioned. Many of the lesser ones have charming foliage. No gems glisten more brightly than do the pendent fruits of the nightshade-bittersweet (fig. 124). Nothing in the world is more beautiful than the delicate tracery of these low-climbing things, commingling with and garlanding the bushes. Precious to the gardener are the vines, most slender and fragile of nature's * 'lace-workers of the woods and brake". With them he may quickly cover the unsightly shed or fence with roods of blossoming verdure. He may overspread the bare walls left by the builder with a mantle of varied green and brown wrought in ex- quisite design. He may throw a filmy mantle of life over the top of mutilated shrubbery. Nature sets him splendid models in every thicket and by every brookside. Fig. 124. The climbing nightshade-bittersweet. 290 NATURAL HISTORY OF THK FARM Study 42. The Larger Wild Vines of the Farm The program of work in this study will consist of a trip about the b(jrdiTS of a wood, alon<^^ a fence-row, and throuj^dia bottom-land thicket, cxaniininj;, one by one, the dilTerent wild vines of various sorts, and writing their characters in a table prepared with the following colinnn headings: Name (of plant). Duration of stem (annual, bieimial, perennial). Grows where (in sun or shade, wet or dry places, etc.). On what (name support). By what means (climbing or twining, ^^ hen climbing by tendrils or holdfasts, diagram the same). Stem (tell it in English) . Character of • Lea\'es (diagram) . Flower-cluster or fruit (diagram). Foliage (character of ) . Season's gro\\i:h, (maximiun 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 foimP growing, and with what dififerent kinds of supi^orts. - XLIII. THE SWALE "Bubble, bubble, flows the stream. Here a glow arid 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. Drawft 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 abimdant crops. Much of it is too rocky, and imsuited 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 fann. 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 hmnus, 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 SL'dgcs, 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 ]ilace where crawfish sink their wells, urunolested by the plow, piling little circular mounds of exca\'aled 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 runwa>'s over the ground: in short, a i)lace where rich soil and almndant 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 goldcnrods and lobelias disappear, and wet groimd 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 gro\^'ing 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. i6, p. 36) will fringe any open w^et spot, and tussock-sedges and clumps of juncus will rise on mounds of gathered humus, like stumbling-blocks before our feet, where dilTuscd springs abound. No two swales arc alike in the character of their plant population. But all agree in their meadowlike appearance, in being made up of patches of rather unifonn character, where uniform conditions ]3rcvail, and in ha\-ing each of these areas dominated by one or two si-iccics of plants, with a number of lesser plants as "fillers" in its midst, and a greater variety of iniscellaneous 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 gro^vth 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 bulrushcs as SciTpus fluviatilis\ (FaHLX?a"S'a^t'e? such otlicr plants, as cat-tails and bur- Britton and Brown. ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^y^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^ sweet flag {Acorus calamus) and blue flag {Iris versicolor). Where these grow most compactly, there are a few lesser plants intermixed, filling the niches, reaching into light above and spreading roots in the superficial layers of the soil. With permanent conditions, the mixtvire 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 Httle 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 stifay 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 niuskrat or a mole U])hcaves a mound of earth, and the seeds of these annual weeds, fallinj^ into this imoccna] icd 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 o]:)enings, 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 sw^ale : yellow flowers, such as Saint John's wort, buttercups, goldcnrods 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 pcmiancnt 0])cn 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 po]nilation. The dominant species are mainly those having comparatively simple and inconspicuous flowers, w^hose pollen is distributed by winds. The dominant species extend their domain chiefly by strong vegetative offshoots, occui)y 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, londrained, 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 dr>^-groimd and wet-groimd 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 behcf 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. | XIJV. Till' in^AMBLES OF TITF FARM "Erratic 'cauderiugs through deadenitig-lands Where sly old briimhles pluckiug me by stealth Put berries in my hands." — Riley (.t Country Pathway). Brambles arc intunatc associates of the farmer. Wherever man has tilled a field, thorny things of some sort have settled I^eaceably 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 famis, 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 stimip 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 fonn thickets. The more typical brambles (thoniy members of the genus Rtibus) have short-lived stems, which early crowd out the weeds, and after a few years are themseh'cs outstrii:)]:)ed and overtopped and shaded and killed by taller-growing shrubs and trees. In the woods, therefore, their occupancy of any given place where trees ma}- grow is but temporar}^ : but in the fence-row where the farmer keeps the trees cut down, thc>' may h(^ld on indefinitel}'. 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 gro\\i:h 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 its borders. The wild red raspberry makes thickets that are less thorny and less dense, but that are hard to penetrate because the long overarching canes, fastened to the earth at both ends, trip one up badly. The red canes, covered with whitish bloom and bearing handsome and gracefully poised leaves, are very beautiful. This bramble loves the shelter of a brush pile or 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. Pig. 127. Wild blackberry: A young shoot of the season, fruiting shoot, and a dead cane. 298 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM The dewberr}' foniis low, trailing, nearly thoniless thickets at the level of one's shoetops in dry fields. There are other blaekberries 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 ^^^^ ^^W^^^^V^^^^>^^C^^^^^ us, they happen to be found bearing a load of luscious fruit. Their fruit- FiG. 12s. Wild red raspberry. . • ,i -i j ing in the wild we may, indeed, with profit obser\'e, if we would manage 'udsely 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, ^^'ill 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 Fig. 129. Wild rose. 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. * Fig. 130. Cudweed. *"Co'se Brer Fox wanter hurt Brer Rabbit bad ez he kin, so he cotch 'im by de behime legs, en slung 'im right in de middle er de brier-patch. Dar wuz a considerbul flutter whar Brer Rabbit struck de bushes, en Brer Fox sorter hang 'roun' fer ter see w'at wuz gwincter 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 e\'er with us in those nooks and angles of the fann that are neither plowed nor tree-covered, and all manner of vn\d 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 Uttle-cstecmed 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 fanning 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 conunon 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. Tin- P( )PULATIOX OF AX OLD Al'PLi: TRKE '".l/v host 7L'(js (1 hountiful apple tree: He utive me shelter and flourished we With the best of fare, all fresh and free. And light-unnged guests came not a fetv. To his leafy inn, and sipped the deu\ And sang their best songs ere they fletv. I slept at night on a downy bed Of moss, and my host benignly spread His own cool shado-M over my head.'' — Thomas Westwood {Mine Host). There are few trees about the fann home so well beloved in childhood as the old apple trees. The grass grows like a car|3et under their S]:)reading crowTis. Their smooth hori- zontal boughs seem to ha^-e 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 we'll concealed by the leaves on a few tliin "water-sprouts." The dove selects a horizontal spray, and lays her thin platfonn of t\\ng3 across the level branches. Catbird and thrush and many other song-birds search the thickest of the unpruned cro\\Tis 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 ser\'e them well for food. In an old * 'stag-headed'* tree, the dead and hollow snag may be perforated and occupied by woodpeckers, or later by wrens and s])arrows. 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 hca\'y flakes of bark. Their perforations may be foimd 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 s]:)ring (see Chapter 2 2 , 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 ctickoos, come to feed on cater- pillars. There are many mammals that like apples as well as we do ; and some small wild ones make nocturnal visits to the orchard. There are many insects that visit it, in blos- soming time, for nectar or for pollen, as we have seen in Study 30. But the most important part of the population of the apple tree is the resident population, composed of insects that are wholly dependent on the apple tree for their livelihood. These are both beneficial and 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, tilers are wooly aphids clustering and causing rounded 304 NATURAL HISTORY oF Till- FARM galls to grow where they make ]ninetnr(s with their beaks. On the new bark and on the leafy shoots, there are other ai)hids feeding together in great coloni(^s, gregariously. These, though minute and ineons])icuous in themselves, are readily located on new shoots because of the crinkling they cause the leaves to undergo. On an old neglected a])])le tree, there are a])t to be many minute scale-insects scattered about, adherent to the bark of the green t^^^gs. These are very minute and incons]:)icuous creatures, that SLppcav life- less, indeed, but they are, by reason of the persistence of their attack and their very rapid rate of increase, among the worst enemies of the trees. Of caterpillars, there is a long succession and a great variety to be found on the apple tree. In spring, the tent-cateri^illar spins its huge webs conspicuously in the crotches of the apple boughs. Though the tent-cater- PiG. 131. Oyster- piU^rs wiU all be gone before midsummer appie''?l-fR°"a^d and a new gro\\i:h ^^dll be replacing the leaves one enlarged. ^^^^^ ^^ ^j^^^^^^ ^j^^-^. empty WCbS WiU Still be seen upon neglected trees. In their stead, two other moth lar\'ae, popularly known as the yellow-necked and the red-humped caterpillars, may be found devastating the foliage. Other lesser cateq^illars that injure the leaves arc 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 ti-umpet-shaped blotch of a mine between upper and lower e]:)idcrmis. The last two will be found by looking for s])otted 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 a])ple-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-cro\\TL 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 tree, having much dead wood present, there are sure to be foimd 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 fiunishes 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. 3o6 NATURAL HISTORY OF TIIK 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 coninion use: saws for bringing do\\'n branches; haniniers for stri]^ping 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 sur\'ey of the trees (to be made while walking among them, by the members of the class observing tilings together) to discover the location of birds' nests; the work of woodpeckers, of mice, etc. ; the old nests of tcnt- catcrpillars; fresh defoliation by caterpilalrs; colonies of aphids and scalc-insccts; 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 diHerent trees may, with profit, compare results in the end. The record of this study may consist of : 1 . A large diagram of a single api)le tree with the location of the members of its population, that affect the green and living tree, indicated (by s>Tnbols and explanatory footnotes) upon it. 2. An amiotated list of the entire i^pulation in tliree parts: (a) Transient visitors. (b) Resident enemies. (c) Parasites and ])redaceous insects. The notes should cover the relations that each species bears to the apple tree. XLVL THE LITTLE BROOK GONE DRY "/« 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, 0 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 Hfe 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 3o8 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM Fig. 133. "Pitchforks"' or "Spanish Needles" in flower see fig, 39 on page 69 for fruit. water, times in- numerable, tliru past centuries : and we know that nature maintains in the brook only such plants and animals as are ca])able, in one way or another, of meeting the exigencies of such times as this. If the aquatic plants have disappeared, and the aquatic animals also, sa\'e for a few that may be discovered hiding under trash in the moister places, there wdll be found plenty of semi-aquatic brookside things still remaining. There ^^'ill be weeds of many sorts, overhanging and brushing against us as we pass up the chamicl; willow-herbs and pitch-forks (fig. 133) in the sun, and rich weed (fig. 134) in the sliady places. Then there will be coarse and straggling Richweed {Pilea puniila). THE LITTLE BROOK GONE DRY 30^ sedges; also, some fine close-growing tussock-sedges, that build hillocks of green at the edges of the channel. There will be grasses, also; especially the pale cut-grass (Leersia), fringing the edges of former pools. 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 dr^ang of the topsoil in the fields has driven the worms doTVTi 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. Fig. 135. A late-season spray of the fowl meadow-grass {Panictdaria nervata) , show- ing vegetative aerial offsets with roots: a small lateral oflEset is shown enlarged at the right. 3IO NATURAL HISTOkY (>F THE FARM \\'herc burrowing cra\\^shcs abound, their holes will be found — some of them capped over with mud chimneys since the drought began. We can test the dej^th to wliich the water-level in the soil lias 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 tilings 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 la>'cr will be added to form rich moisture -holding soil. By the side of the brook gone dry, nature sets us exami)les in the conservation of moisture. There we may find plants bunied to death with the drouth; otlicrs of the same species wilted sadly, but still alive; and others, green and flourishing. The dilTcrences are mainly due to the disposition of the soil about their roots; soil hard and bare in the first case, and well adapted to facilitate loss of water; and loose soil well co\-ercd from the sun in the last case, and full of rescr^'e 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 fenis, with a few cat-tails in the wettest spots, and to have round alnjut, a fringe of moisture -loving composites such as boncsct, joc- pye weed, swamp-milkweed, goldenrod and New England Fig. 136. Fruit- ing panicle of the fowl-mead- ow-grass. 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 nmways at the surface of the grotmd. 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 w^ork 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 m^ore 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 foimd in the brook-bed, whether they belong there or whether they be chance seedlings of land plants springing up in imsuitable places. XLVII. SWIMMING HOLES "IIV tied hae paidl't i' the burn From inoruiu' sun till dine.'' — Burns (Auld Lang Syne). Of all elemental tastes, the liking for dal^bling in water is, perhaps, the most widespread. Man and beast and bird, with few exce])tions, love the waterside. They drink, they bathe, they pla}' 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 nearlv 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, enjo>-ing 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 fl}'-time, with their thin-sknnned under parts immersed, and their tails flinging spray over their backs. Tliis sort of installment shower-bath does good in two ways. When it wets the wmgs of flics, it puts them 312 SWIMMING HOLES 313 temporarily out of commission; and when the water evap- orates, its effect is cooHng 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 shrubbcr\' 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. 314 NATURAL HISTORY OF THIC FARM shoals where beginners may Icani, and a deej) hole for the skillful to plunge in, and a clean bank on wliich to come out and dress. The only If '■A>^; Fii;. Lib. Poor modi-rn alternatives. necessary artificial eciuii^ment is a spring board, to aid in making spectacular plunges. And if it have, slop- ing into the water, a soft clay bank down wliich bare feet may slide, or a black stick}- 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 luialloycd pleasure, or of so eflectively 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! M ^^^, zBx, I"iG. l.J'J. "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 wall 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 batliing place (as for example, at a bird-foimtain), 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 accoimt of all the aquatic activities of the animals ob- served, evidences of benefit or of pleasure deri\'cd therefrom, and the location and character of the aquatic situations chosen by each species for its pastime. XLVIIL WINDING ROADS "0, dCiLH the valley do they go, where all is sr.ceet 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; A nd 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 tnisty yesterdays." — Wilbur D. Nesbit {The Winding Roads). This is our last field trip together. Let us betake ourselves to some little ■s\dnding 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 %vith 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 smiimer 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 ha^^^homs 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 hannonies 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 wTought. 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, gi^' ing full exposure to the sun, and the trees have robed themselves with hea\y 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 abo\'e, 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 banlc, which doubtless was once bare — ^long since, when graders had finished their work. But nature had some wild roses and asters growing on the 3i8 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM siunniit, and these .cjew and spilled over and poured do\\Ti the slope to the very roadside, where they remain to this day in chamiing confusion. And year after year the bank is flecked with the pink of the roses in siunmer and dappled with the blue of the asters in autiunn. We ])ass under a KT*eat oak that stretches its lonp: horizontal boughs across our way, holding out flat canopies of leaves, whose shadows run waveringly over the dust of the road. We round the top of the little hill, where the view opens out across a valley with a strip of sparkling water. We descend a gentle slope and come upon a low-lying nieadow, bordered with great masses of golden-rod and elder. We cross a bridge, ahnost without seeing it; for it is the sort of bridge ovir fathers builded, a bridge of gray stone taken from tlie hill- side ledge : a broad and solid bridge built to stand while the rill nms beneath it. The rill is hidden by herbage, but we hear its gurgling. AAHiat 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 lilce billows to the ridge. There, a few white pines stand out like sentinels. While we are look- ing at the spreading hcrl^s beneath the trees, our road turns again to pass around the hill. So, it leads us on, with its promises of ever-new and cliann- ing pictures. Its vistas, disclosed at ever>^ 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 comer is planted with verdure of incomparable design. This is not a road to race over, seeing nothing. No; it must be travelled slowly, anrl 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 dovm gently to the borders of the street ; if the little side-paths lead into pleasant places, and the shadows that lie across the grass seem to invite one to enter and rest; if simny 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 : An open vista along the roadway itself. 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 Till- FARM 6. A near-by dis]:)Uiy of leaf -cover, of elegant design. 7 . A display of wild flowers. The record of this study may consist of: 1. Tlie map above mentioned, with arrows marked upon it indicating such views as above noted. 2. Brief descriptive list of them, statriig for cacli. (a) What elements of the view most appeal to \-ou 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 1 )irds, The humming of the 1 »ees. "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 com Where drowsy poppies nod Where ill thoughts die and gocKl are bom Out in the fields with God. — Elizabeth Harntt BrowninR Individual Exercises for the Summer Term Five studies follow, that, like those for the fall and spring terms (pages 126 and 22S 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 o\cv 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, com, oats, barley, etc.), a few as pasture grasses, a few as noxious weeds, and a few as ornamental g?:asses. 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 temis 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 t^\o of the thin straggling grasses that grow in the thickets, and one or two of the annual species that grow as weeds in fields 1,22 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM and gardens; also, if convenient, one or two water-grasses, such as cut-grass, rnanna-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 \\ ay of production of stools or oflsets; when starting growi^h 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 cohunns, the obser^'-ations made upon it. Footnotes may include any obser\^ations for which there is not room in the table. Optional Study 12. A Calendar of Summer Wild Flowers This is a continuation, through the smnmer season, of the observations on spring flowers, ovitlined in Optional Study 8 on page 229, and may follow the plan there outlined. For the second table-heading, "Relation to leaf -unfolding," substitute: "Fonn 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 v/hich birds hide £.nd build their nests. A few, like those of the Baltimore oriole, are htmg out in plain view, but most of them are so well hidden that we can find them only by most careful and unobtrusive watcliing 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 coltmins 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 obscr^'-ation, is abtmdant, may be made up of the observations on pairs of birds of a single species; the left-hand coliunn of the table for record mil 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 eneourage personal observa- tions on the growth of the products of the fields. A dozen or more such cultivated crops as com, wheat, oats, hay, clover, potatoes, millet, apples, buclavheat, turnips, etc., are to be severally examined in all the fields of the fann, and the best found are to be set dowTi for record in the columns of a table of the fonn 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 obserA'cd, see farm records) . Subsequent treatment (if not observed, see fann records). Yield (actual or estimated; specify which). LXDIVIDUAL EXERCISES FOR SUMMER TERM 325 Optional Study 15. A Com Record Com is King ! This beautiful plant, that our forefathers, when thc}' 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 careftd obser\^ations at least once a week (oftener in flowering time) on germination, leaf -unfolding, stooling, prop-root fomiation, 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, ftmgi, etc., found causing injury. I. Physical factors of environment 2. Growth 3. Enemies Outdoor Equipment It is a part of the public duty of those who know the vaUie 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 w^orld 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 ever>^vhcre: (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 ravai^ed 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 arc to be turiK''ant 143, 180, 193, 274 Brvozoans 3^ 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 Ill Bullheads 47 Bulrushes 292, 293 Buprestidae 182 Burdock 159, 257, 262 Bums, 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» I93 Calamus root (sweet flag) ... 62 CalHbaetis 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. 4^ Carpels 19 Carpenter worms 181 Carrots 59, 6o> 260, 266 Cascadilla 45 Castaillia 35 Cat 109, 153 Pagb Catbird 3 )2 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, 111,277 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, 'J2i. 74, 129, 184 Chestnut Oak 28 Chestnut Wee\dl 27 Chickadees 153 Chickens 117, 118 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 Chmbers 30 Climbing apparatus 286 Climbing hemp 286 Cloth 157, 159 Clothes 10 Clothing 13 Cloven hoofs 53. loS 336 N^VrURAL HISTORY oF THE FARM Pace 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, 1^2 Columbine 209 Columbus 244 Combustion 83 Community 122 Competition 25, 150, 265 Competitors 1 97, 233 Composites 3^0 Compost 175 Comstock, Mrs. J. H 172, 277 Confections 172 Coniferous 90 Conifers 86,91. 164 Conser\'ation 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 Com 9. 186,234 Com weather 234 Comer grocery 265 Cor>-dalis comuta 39 Cor>-lus amcricanus 26 Cotton 159. 160 CottonwrK)d 160, 177 Country Pathway, A 296 Course in sprouts 1 44 Covert 330 Cow 53 CowsHps 292 Crab apple 20 Crab-grass 259 Cranberries 16, 17, 286 Page Craneflies 40, 1 83 Crawfish 38,46,48,292,310 Creek 33 Creepers 35 Cresses 246, 292, 294 Crop plants 268 Crops 15,25, 121 Crop production . . 233 Crossl)ills 67 Crows 18,22, 151, 303, 317 Crucifers 246 Cmstaceans 38 Cuckoos 303 Cucurbits 286 Cudweed (everlasting) 299 Culicidic 40, 275 Cultivated fruits 18 Cultural varieties 47 Culture 25 Cup of hazel tea I44 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 Deerflics 274 Deer mice 102, 152, 162 Delicacies 16 Dewberry 298 Diatoms 34. 36, 41 I Dill 247 I Diptcra 40. 43. 183,275 I Disciplinarians 143 I Dispersal 55. 66, 68, 133 j Diuretic 244 INDEX 3.^7 Page Diving beetle 39 Division of labor 10 Dobson larva 39 Dobsons 40 Docks 59. 259 Dog 104, 105, III Dogbane 1 59 Dogwood . . 144, 146, 167, 205, 292 Domesticated animals . . .104, 105 Domesticated fowls 118 Domesticated mammals . . 104, in Domestication 106, 1 10 Dominant forms 294 Doorweed (goosegrass) . .259, 261 Dove 302 Dragon-fly 40, 42 Dried berries 18 Drouth 310 Drupes 19 Ducks 113, 117 Dumping places 32 Dutchman's breeches 210 Dytiscus 39 Earthworms. ... 176, 178, 282, 309 Echinocystis 288 Eden 121, 22^'] 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, 1 82 Envelopes 14 Ephemerida 40 Epidermis 269 Esthetic values . 100, 195, 210, 219 Evergreens 90, 92 Evolution 99, 220, 265 Experience 11 Page Faery Queen 77 Fagots •''^3,85 Fairyland 165, 167 Fairy tree 223 Fall planting 196 False wSolomon'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 Raffcix 113 Fathers of Old, Our 243 Fats 24 Fauna 47 Feeding shelf 1 53 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 Fightmg 42,47 59 Filberts 25 144 Fillers 292,298 Filtration plant 191 Finch 67 Fire 81, 82, 196, 212 Fire by friction ^^ Fireflies 181 Fire-making 83 First Spring Dav, the 168 Fishes 9, 32, 37, 38, 46, 47, 48 Fish culture 47 Fish food 2)1 Fishing 32 , 46 Fishing lines 161 Flavor 16, 26, 68, 116 Flavoring of foods 247 Flax 1 59 Fleabane 294 Flesh 42 Flint TO Floating liver\vort 36 Floating riverweed 35 33« NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM Pace Flocks 96 Flood 34.35 Flood plain 310 Flowering dogwood . . 129, 196,225 Flowers _ 264 Flower visiting insects 214 Fly-brushes 278 Flylarvx 183 Flv repellants 274 Fly time 274,278 Fo'liage 210 Food 32, 46 Food habits 41 Food rescn-e 170, 233 Food stick 153 Footprints 150 Forage 47. i^9 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 Fmit trees 17. 123 Fuel values 84 Fuel woods.. 81, 86 Fungus gnats 181, 183 Fur bearers . . 97 Furs 96, 97 Fur trade 9^^ Galls 304 (iame 9, 46, 48, 96, 1 13 Oammarus 38 Garden 9 Gaiden of scented herbs 249 Gardener 289 Garter snake 316 Page Geese 1 13, 115, 117 General Biology 271 Gentians 292, 294 Gerard 245, 248 Gerardias 264 Giant water-bug 39 Gills 40,41 Ginger 247 Glow-wo 34 Greenbrier 298 Green things gro^^'ing. . . . 195, 327 Ground beetles 178, 181 Ground cherries 17 Ground cover 92, 176 Groundfloor 257 Ground nut 60 Groundwater 191 Grouse 113, 116, 151,316 Grove 327 Guinea fowl 117 GuUies 33 Habitat 4' Hackbern' 20 INDEX 339 Page Halictus 215 Hallowe'en 24 Hammock nest 158 Handbookof Nature-Study 14, 172 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 I55 Hazel 25, 144, 292 Hazelnut 26, 28 Headlands 32 Helianthus (sunflower) ... .60, 159 HeUgrammite 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 Childliood 150 Hiawatha's Sailing 155 Hibernation 66, 150 Hibiscus I55» I59> 211 Hickory 24, 25, 26, 73, 74, 76, 84, 85, 129, 224 Highway 32 Hobble-bush I45 Hodge, F. W 163 Hog-peanut 62 Hogs 24, 47, 109, 274, 312 Holdfasts 287 Holland,!. 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^^77 Hoofs 53,54 Hooks 30 Hop clovers 240 Pack Hops 285 288 Horehound. ... ... 247 Hornbeam 2,-, 129 Horse . 106, 107, 108, 1 10, 1 1 1, 277 Horse chestnut 26 Horse flies, 39,40,275, 276, 277,278 Horsefly larva? 193 Horsehairs 156 Horse power 108 Horse radish 246 House-flics 216. 278 Householder 195 Howard, Ethel Barstow 223 Human industr}' 121 Humus 177, 178 Hunt, Leigh 191 Hunter 59. 97. 105 Himting dogs in Huntsmen 113 Husbandman 105 Husbandry 10 Hybrid no Ice-coat 164 Improvements 123, 326 Improved varieties 25 Indians, 9, 10, 18, 24, 96, 97, 156, 168, 172 Indian cucumber- root 61 Indian hemp 159 Injurious insects 303 Insecticide 270 Insect larv^ae 38 Insects 38.303 Instincts 279 Invention of spinning 1 56 Invocation to rain 307 Iris 2^},, 329 Iroquois 16 Jack-in-thc-pulpit 61, 209 Jam 18 Javs 303 Jellies 18 Jewel-weed 69, 293 Jimson-weed 259 Job 205 Joel .... 268 Joe-pye-weed . 293, 310 34C NATURAL HISTORY OF THE F.VRM Page fudas tree 22 >, fuice i^ [uncus 54.-9- [unebcrn- i^, 197 [unipers 91 fute 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 2 1 1 Lamb's quarters 259 Lampvridc-e 183 Land fowl 113 Landscape 12, 122, 124 Lanier, Sidney 186, 237 Larch roots 155 Larcom, Lucy I21 Lar\'ae 30 Lavender 247, 249 Lawn 146 Lead acetate 13 Leaf fall I34 Leaf hoppers 305 Leaf miners 268 Leaf mold 177 Leaf mosaics 287 Leaf skeletonizcrs 269 Leatherwood 155 Leeches 38 Leersia (cut grass) 309 Legumes 63 Leguminosai 68 Lemon verbena 247 Lens 13 Lentils 68 Leptidne 40, 183 Lepidoptcra 40, 182 Lettuce 244 Life of Inland Waters 14 Pack Lightning 81 LilifS 211 Limnca 38 Lincoln, Abraham 187 Linen 1 60 Linden 26, 2H, 73, 76, 162, 253 Linden buds 246 Literature 107 Livestock 37, 110, 127 Lloyd, J. T 14 Lobelia 200, 292, 294, 309 Logs 32, 180 Lombardv ix)plar 73 Longfellow 150, 155 Loniccra 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, no, 303 Mandrakes 16. 209 Manna grass 293 Manual of Botany, Gray's. . . 14 Manual for the wStudy 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 17 ^ Marlatt, C. L 270 Marmion 9^ Marshes 98 Marsh ferns 292, 310 Marshmallows 159. 294 xMarsh marigolds 208, 21 1 Marsupi-d 99 Mas(m, OtisT 156 Mav apples 244 Mayflies 40. 42, 48 INDEX 341 Page Ma^^fly 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 lar\^as 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 Modem learning 100 Moisture loving 282 Molds 178 Mole 99. 102 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 Mosspink 92,209,210 Mother earth 9, 10 Mountain ash 19, 20, 167 Mountain laurel 92 Mountain sheep 98 Mouse, To a 96 Pace Mouse-ear 317 Moving water 33, 137, 282 Alowing 18, 196 IVIud 33 Mulberries 16 Mule no Mullein 55, 259, 262 Muloch, Dinah M 195 Muscid flies 40 Muscoidea 40 Mushrooms 282 Musk-mallow 247 Aluskrat 97, 152 Mussel 38 Mustard 246, 259 Mutual benefit 278 Mutual helpfulness 299 Mutual pleasure 107 Muzzles 53 MycetophiUdae 183 Myriophyllum 35 Nannyberry 19, 20, 144 Narcissus 234 Narcotic 26 Natural balance 308 Natural pruning 166 Natural selection 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, 4^ 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 NATUR.\L IIISTURV OF THE FARM Page Notonecta 39 Xovelties 123 November 66 Xoyes, Alice A 37 Nursery 195, 1 98 Nursery row 197 Nuts '4. 30 Nut bearing trees 25 Nut hatches 153 Nut wee\nls 26 Nymphrca 35 Nymphs 40 Oak, 72,129,167, 177, 184,205, " black " family " red 28, 74, " white " woods Oats Odonata CEstridx < )ffsets 199, (^ils 68, Oncopeltus Onion 59, 234, Opossum Orchard 121, Orioles 19, 158, Oriole's nest Orl flies Orl-fly larva Orris-root Osier dogwoods 144, Otters Outdoor auditorium Out-of-doors Outlook 9, Ox Ox warbles Ox yoke Oxybaphus Oxygen Oyster shell scales 318 253 25 253 74 129 234 40 277 234 249 269 244 97 213 161 157 40 39 247 167 312 331 90 124 106 277 106 258 36 304 Packages 24 Panicled dog^vood 144 Panicled white aster 200 Panicularia 293, 309 Pack Parasites 39, 181, 271 Parasitic plants 39 Paris green 269 Park 2>2j 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 acliille 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 larv^a 43 Philotria (Elodea) 35 Physostegia 199 Pickerel 48 Pigeons 113, 114, 117 Pigs 58, io8,|iii Pig-nut hickor>' 25, 28 Pig-weed 259 Pikes 48 Pillbugs 282 Pines 78, 90, 1 84, 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 Plant fibers i6o Planting time 195, 260 Plants 52 Plastering fibers 161 Playful capers no 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 Polygonaceas 68 Pomes 19 Pomology 19 Pools 41 Poplar 184 Population 67, 182, 192 Porcupines 67, 154, 169 Pork 109 Porzana 1 1 7 Potamogeton 34, 35 Potato ... 10, 59, 60, 235, 261 , 270 Potato beetles 268 Pot hunter 1 1 5 Poultry 127 Poultry husbandry 118 Power of flight 220 Powers, Horatio H 213 Prairie hen 116 Prairies 71, 114,327 Prepared bird skins 221 Prickly ash 144, 145 Primitive folk 244 Primitive language no Products 10, II Prong horn 98 Propagating 18 Propagation 200 Proteins 24 Page Provisions 58 Prunes 244 Pruning 167 Psalm 52 Psephenus 3^ Pulp 19 Pulse family 68 Pumas 9^ Puncturing 269 Punkies 43, 274, 278 Pure cultures 47 Puritan 66 Purselane 259 Pyrochroidae 183 Quadrupeds 68, 97 Quail 113 Quick growing crops 24 Rabbits 98. 150, 153, 1&7, 188,292,299,316 Rabbit's foot clover 240 Raccoon 97, 98, 100, 102, 182 Radishes 60, 195, 246 Ragweeds 262 Rail fence 188 Rails 113 Rail splitter 187, 188 Railroads 32 Rain 33, 281 Rainv 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 9' 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 I4 Refrigerators 19I Reindeer ^ 50 Reservations 97, 212 Resins 82 Resources ^2 Reynolds, Sir Joshua 124 344 NATUR.VL HISTORY OF THE FARM Page Ricciocarpus 36 Rich weed 328 Riffle-beetle 38 Riley, James Whitcomh. . .46, 2t>6 Rill 3,3, 3^» River weed 34 Roads 127, 146 Roads, The Winding 316 Robbing tlie woods 211 RolKTts.G. D 165 Robin . . 19, 162, 16H, 2 19, 302, 309 Rock bass 48 Rodents 24 Root crops 63, 127 Rooters 58 Roots 34. 59 Roses 286, 3 1 7 Roses, climbing 289 Rose geraniums 247 Rosemar}' 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, i^7 Savory herbs 246 Scale insects 268,269,304 Scaraba-idc-e 183 Scavengers 39 Scent bags 249 Scirpus 36, 293 Scolytidee 182 Pack Scott, Walter 90 ''^cuds 38 42, 192 Seasons 16, 233 Sedges 68, 206, 292, 30*;. 310 Seeds 10, 52, 197 Seed crop ' . 66 Seedlings 196 Seed ripening 133 Seine 48 Selection 16, 25, 47, 54 Self-fertilizing flowers 62 vSelf-inflicted vandalism 262 Selkirk, James Brown 281 Semi-aquatics 308 Seneca "114 Senses 76 Sensitive fern 292 vSensitive Plant, the 164 Sepedon 43 vSerial observations 126 Seton, Ernest Thompson .... 116 Se^^^ng needle 157 Se^^'ing threads 1 56 Sexes in domestication 106 Shadbush 195 Shakespeare 252 Shaler 100, 104 Sheep 52, 108, III Sheep raising 108 Sheepshcad 48 Shelll)ark hickory 28 Shelley 113, 164 Shell fish 46 SheUs 26 Shelter 22, 48 Shepherd dogs in SphcTrium 192 Shoals 41.48 Shortcomings no Shorthorns 47 Shrews 99, 102, 178, 188, 292, 311 Shrubs y-j, 143, 204, 225, 262 Sialis 39 vSigns 1 50 Silk 161 Silver Show 165 Simuliidaj 40, 276 Simulium 276 Size 18 Skilful rider 107 INDEX 345 Page Sking 9, 97 SkuUcap 293,309 Skunk 97,98, 102, 151 Skunk cabbage 61 Skylines 122 Slaughter 99 vSlime-molds 282 ^*^lugs 282 Small fruits lo vSmith, Albert W 58 Smith, Miss Cora A 275 vSnails 178 Snipe 113 Snipefly 40 Snipe-fly larwne 1 83 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 conser\'ing 175 Soil management 176 Soil mixing 175 Soil moisture 292 vSolaniuns 63, 270 Soldier fly '. 40 vSong birds. 146, 220, 292, 302, 313 Sora rail 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 Pacb 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 SP^^ge 259 Squash jq Squirrels 24,99, 150, 169,317 Squirrel com 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 Stratiomj-iidas 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 20 1 Sucker 48, 49 Sugar beets 172 Sugar bush 171 Sugar camp 172 Sugarcane 172 Sugarindustry 168 Sugar maple 73- 170, 224 Sugar of lead 13 346 NATURAL HISTORY OF THK FARM Page Sugar trees I43 Sumac 18, 143, 144, 165, 167, 188,224 Summer savor\' 247 Sun and shade 17. 200, 206 Sunfishcs 47 Sunflowers 60,264 Swale 116.291.292,310 Swale fly 43 Swamps 98. 327 Swamp azalea 1 44 Swamp lilies 294 Swamp milkweed ... I59. 293, 310 Swans 113. 115 vSweet 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 Svlvan picture 332 Sympathy no Svrphida? 40 S'yrphusfly 40,215,270,272 Tabanidaj 40» Tabb, John B Table fishes Tadpoles 38, Tamarack I55. Tame animals Tannin Tapping Taro Tea Teasel 55. Telephone Tendrils Tennyson Tent caterpillar Textiles 96 Textile art Textile products Thanksgiving Thickets 277 174 47 307 224 100 177 171 61 248 317 82 287 220 304 160 157 159 66 17 Page Thistle 55. 160, 257, 259 Thompson, Maurice 291 Thorns 12 Thrush 3'^2 Thvme 247,248 Tillage 10,32,58,71,139, 175 Timber 9.32 Timber crops 127 Timothv 55 Tipulida; 40. 183 Top fire 84 Topography 15. 138 Tools 9. 13.30, 86 Touch-me-not 69 Tow 159. i^^i Tracks 151.309 Traditions 10, 68, 244 Tragedy 150 Trained horse 107 Trampling 54, I97 Transportation 32, 53, 212 Trapping 100 Traps 48 Treadmill 106 Tree forms 72 Trees 24,52,71, 134. 180,253 Tree saps 170 Tabanidae 40 Trifolium 240.253 Trilhum 206, 208, 209 Trouts 48 Trumpet vine 286,287 Tubers 60 Tubifex I93 TuUp tree 74. 7^, 129. 253 Turf 53 Turkey 114. ii7 Turkey gnats 37 Turnips 60 Turnspit 106 Turtle 38 Turtlehcads 264, 266, 309 Tussock sedges 292, 309 Tuttlc, OHve 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 Vemiin 187 Vertigo 277 Virbumum. 19, 143, 144 Views of the farm 128 Vigilance 99 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 11, 291 Water beetles 40 Water boatman 39 Water bugs 40 Watercress 192 Waterfalls 36 Waterfowl 113, 115, 117 Water garden 47 Water hemlock 60 Water horn wort 35 Water milfoil 35 Water mint 249, 309 Water moths 40 Water shamrock 329 Water shield 35 Water skaters 307 Water world 39i 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 Wild beasts 186 Wild boar no Wild carrot 167 Wild Cherry 20 Wild choke-cherry 19 Wild currant . . . '. 1 84 Wild ducks 115 Wild fishes 47 Wild flower presen-e 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 Hfe 326 Wild mammals 96, 100 Wild nuts 24, 29 Wild perennials 200 Wild pigeon 1 13, 1 14 Wild rice 6S, 113 Wild roots 59 Wild rose i44» 299 Wild strawberry 92 Wild things 11,12, 300,319 Wild turkey 115 Wildwoodio, 16, 122, 195, 201,327 WilHs, Nathaniel Parker 208 Willow, 73, 165, 184, 22^, 2^2, 329 Willow herb 308 Willow rods I43 Wind *. 24 Winding roads 3^6 348 NATUR.\L HISTORY OF THE FARM Page Window garden 247 Wind sown seed 1 84 Wine 285 Winter 71 Winter activities 150 Winterbcrr>' 144 Winter colors 201 Winter conditions 132 Winter feeding 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 Wood lot 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 ijl f!!l!!!ii!l|!|!!| ii i iinilililill !i i ii I! |l ;i il t !i 1 ';pii! Si!5 i !il!!!i!i hi' lilil!! { :iii ! 1 i III m ijil! 1 ! i'l J I '•W iili I 1; 'I'i' !';'!'')' 1;; ! lii ( I lllili i! p p iili lliiilliiili h Carolina SUl jpjjjl ^ '.r-'^TORY OF THE FARM AGUIM TOTHE PR I I II north Cro.oa SUte University Ubraries liiijjr Il iiiiiii S02775236 H »"iiiiill!!iili!llil!i!iiiil|iiiiii 'i lillllilli ■"■j;!ii!j:|i;liili|llil!ll lii ■iii !il'l!;i|| ii ! !l ! m ' il ii ■jjipiii ililiiiii """iii iiililiil 18 iiP