Class JSI±3_L?l 
 
 Rook 
 
 CopigM°_ 
 
 COFYMGHT DEPOSH1 
 

■•■ 
 
 V* 
 
 A MODEL ELM. 
 
g^rboF <ga\> Manual. 
 
 AN AID IN 
 
 Preparing Programs 
 
 ^rbor f^a^ J+xerdses 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 gboice gelections on Threes, forests, flowers, and 
 Kindred gubjects; p^rbov ©a? Music, 
 Specimen Programs, etc. 
 
 
 ! b 
 
 /Of EDITED AND COMPILED BY 
 
 CHARLES R V SKINNER, A. M., 
 
 DEPUTY SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION, STATE OF NEW YORK. 
 
 ALBANY: 
 
 WEED, PARSONS AND COMPANY, 
 
 1890. /\r COPYRd 
 
 MAH 31 
 
Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year eighteen hundred and ninety. 
 
 By WEED, PAHSONS AND COMPANY, 
 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 
Introduction. 
 
 THIS book had its inspiration in an acknowledged reverence for Nature, 
 an admiration for trees and forests, an interest in the establishment 
 and development of Arbor Day and its purposes, and a desire to furnish 
 teachers and others with suitable material, carefully selected, in convenient 
 form for the preparation ' of programs for Arbor Day exercises. Such 
 exercises very properly accompany the planting of trees. 
 
 One cannot engage in the preparation of such a work without constantly 
 growing more and more in touch with Nature and the great lessons which 
 she teaches. Interest and reverence go together. One is also' deeply im- 
 pressed through it all with the earnestness and tenderness of the beautiful 
 thoughts which authors in all ages, and especially American authors, have 
 given our literature in their studies of Nature as revealed in trees, forests, 
 flowers, birds and children. 
 
 We are carried back in memory by studies like these, to the careless days 
 of youth, to enjoy again the unselfish companionship of the trees, the silent 
 sentinels about the old home, in whose leaves we have tried to read our 
 fortunes. We recall the handsome butternuts which clasped hands across 
 the roadway near the homestead, the graceful maples in the grove, the 
 orchards and the forests, associated with all of which are so many of the 
 truest joys of life. The stately elm too, which still stands on the hill, a 
 guide for miles around, the pride of the community, is remembered with all 
 the associations which are inseparable from it. 
 
 Arbor Day is rapidly becoming one of the most interesting and one of 
 the most extensively observed of school holidays. Originating in Nebraska 
 in 1872, it is now observed with more or less enthusiasm in nearly every 
 State of the Union, and many millions of trees have been planted. It\ 
 cannot be expected that all that can be done on Arbor Day in this direction } 
 will counteract in a great degree the waste constantly going on in our 
 forests, but it is hoped that the observance of the day will do something to 
 excite a reverence for Nature in the study of her great works. Wanton 
 destruction of trees may be prevented, or stayed, and children may learn, by 
 simple exercises, some of the uses and beauties of trees, and of the value of 
 
v j INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the study of tree-planting, in its economic phases, and something can at least 
 be done, through such influences, to beautify the school grounds of our 
 country. 
 
 Acknowledgments. 
 
 If it were possible, it would be a pleasure to make acknowledgment 
 by name of all friends who have aided in the preparation of this volume. 
 To those who have contributed original productions to its pages, and to those 
 who have kindly permitted the use of carefully-arranged programs, special 
 acknowledgment is made. 
 
 Mention is particularly made of the following publishers, from whose pub- 
 lications numerous beautiful and appropriate selections have been taken : 
 Harper & Brothers, New York ; D. Appleton & Co., New York ; A. S. 
 Barnes & Co., New York ; Ivison, Blakeman & Co., New York ; Sheldon & 
 Co., New York; Taintor Brothers & Co., New York; E. H. Butler & Co., 
 Philadelphia; The J. B. Lippincott Co., Philadelphia; Cowperthwait & Co., 
 Philadelphia; Van Antwerp, Bragg &: Co., Cincinnati; Ginn & Co., Boston. 
 
 Selections from the American poets, Longfellow, Whittier, Holmes, Lowell, 
 Emerson and others are used by permission of and by special arrangement 
 with Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., of Boston, owners of the copyrights, 
 and publishers of the Household Editions of the poets which form a valu- 
 able poetical library in themselves. Quotations from the works of Bryant 
 are used by permission of Mr. Parke Godwin of New York. 
 
 For the use of the music given, special acknowledgment is made to Harper 
 & Brothers, New York, publishers of the Franklin Square Song Collection ; 
 D. Appleton & Co., New York, publishers of the "Song Wave"; Ivison, 
 Blakeman & Co., New York, publishers of the " Progressive Glee and 
 Chorus Book" ; Biglow & Main, New York ; Ginn & Co., Boston, publishers 
 of "The Coda"; The W. W. Whitney Co., Toledo, publishers of the "Song 
 Prize." 
 
Contents. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Selections 1 
 
 How Arbor Day is Observed in Various States 329 
 
 Specimen Programs 337 
 
 How to Plant Trees — What to Plant 353 
 
 Arbor Day Music 381 
 
 General Index 439 
 
 Index to Music 453 
 
 Index to Authors 455 
 
 Illustrations : 
 
 A model elm Frontispiece. 
 
 " The groves were God's first temples." Opposite page 4 
 
 The Oak and the mistletoe seed do 117 
 
 Under the Washington elm do . 140 
 
 The purple beech do 187 
 
 Boy that stole apples 253 
 
 Tunnel through " Wawona." Opposite page 272 ^ 
 
 A California giant do 294 / 
 
^JboF ©a^ |vjanual. 
 
 THE SECRET. 
 
 WE have a secret, just we three, 
 The robin, and I, and the sweet cherry tree ; 
 The bird told the tree, and the tree told me, 
 And nobody knows it but just us three. 
 
 But of course the robin knows it best, 
 Because he built the — I shan't tell the rest ; 
 And laid the four little — somethings in it — 
 I am afraid I shall tell it every minute. 
 
 But if the tree and the robin don't peep, 
 I'll try my best the secret to keep ; 
 Though I know when the little birds fly about, 
 Then the whole secret will be out. 
 
 THE KIND OLD OAK. 
 
 IT was almost time for winter to come. The little birds had all gone far away, 
 for they were afraid of the cold. There was no green grass in the fields, 
 and there were no pretty flowers in the gardens. Many of the trees had 
 dropped all their leaves. Cold winter, with its snow and ice, was coming. 
 
 At the foot of an old oak tree some sweet little violets were still in blossom. 
 " Dear old oak,'' said they, "winter is coming; we are afraid that we shall die 
 of the cold." 
 
 a Do not be afraid, little ones," said the oak, "close your yellow eyes in 
 sleep, and trust to me. You have made me glad many a time with your sweet- 
 ness. Now I will take care that the winter shall do you no harm." 
 
 So the violets closed their pretty eyes and went to sleep ; they knew that 
 they could trust the kind old oak. And the great tree softly dropped red leaf 
 after red leaf upon them, until they were all covered over. 
 
 The cold winter came, with its snow and ice, but it could not harm the little 
 violets. Safe under the friendly leaves of the old oak they slept and dreamed 
 happy dreams until the warm rains of spring came and waked them again. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE OAK TREE. 
 
 LONG ago, in changeful autumn, 
 When the leaves were turning brown, 
 From the tall oak's topmost branches 
 Fell a little acorn down. 
 
 And it tumbled by the pathway, 
 And a chance foot trod it deep 
 
 In the ground, where all the winter 
 In its shell it lay asleep. 
 
 With the white snow lying over, 
 And the frost to hold it fast, 
 
 Till there came the mild spring weather, 
 When it burst its shell at last. 
 
 First shot up a sapling tender, 
 
 Scarcely seen above the ground ; 
 
 Then a mimic little oak tree 
 
 Spread its tiny arms around. 
 
 Now it standeth like a giant, 
 
 Casting shadows broad and high, 
 
 With huge trunk and leafy branches 
 Spreading up into the sky. 
 
 Child, when happily thou art resting 
 
 'Neath the great oak's monster shade, 
 
 Think how little was the acorn 
 
 Whence that mighty tree was made. 
 
 Think how simple things and lowly, 
 Have a part in nature's plan, 
 
 How the great hath small beginnings, 
 And the child will be a man. 
 
 Little efforts work great actions, 
 
 Lessons in our childhood taught, 
 Mold the spirit to that temper 
 
 W T hereby noblest deeds are wrought. 
 
 Cherish then the gifts of childhood, 
 Use them gently, guard them well ; 
 
 For their future growth and greatness 
 Who can measure, who can tell? 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE FOREST TREES. 
 
 UP with your heads, ye sylvan lords, 
 Wave proudly in the breeze, 
 For our cradle bands and coffin boards 
 Must come from the forest trees. 
 
 We bless ye for your summer shade, 
 
 When our weak limbs fail and tire; 
 Our thanks are due for your winter aid, 
 
 When we pile the bright log fire. 
 
 Oh ! where would be our rule on the sea, 
 
 And the fame of the sailor band, 
 Were it not for the oak and cloud-crowned pine, 
 
 That spring on the quiet land ? 
 
 When the ribs and masts of the good ship live, 
 
 And weather the gale with ease, 
 Take his glass from the tar who will not give 
 
 A health to the forest trees. 
 
 Ye lend to life its earliest joy, 
 
 And wait on its latest page; 
 In the circling hoop for the rosy boy, 
 
 And the easy chair for age. 
 
 The old man totters on his way, 
 
 With footsteps short and slow; 
 But without the stick for his help and stay 
 
 Not a yard's length could he go. 
 
 The hazel twig in the stripling's hand 
 
 Hath magic power to please ; 
 And the trusty staff and slender wand 
 
 Are plucked from the forest trees. 
 
 Ye are seen in the shape of the old hand loom 
 
 And the merry ringing flail ; 
 Ye shine in the dome of the monarch's home 
 
 And the sacred altar rail. 
 
 In the rustic porch, the wainscoted wall, 
 
 In the gay triumphal car; 
 In the rude built hut or the banquet hall, 
 
 No matter ! there ye are ! 
 
 Then up with your heads, ye sylvan lords! 
 
 Wave proudly in the breeze ; 
 From our cradle bands to our coffin boards 
 
 We're in debt to the forest trees. Eliza Cook. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 A FOREST HYMN. 
 
 THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned 
 To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, 
 And spread the roof above them — ere he framed 
 The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 
 The sound of anthems ; in the darkling wood, 
 Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down, 
 And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
 And supplication. For his simple heart 
 Might not resist the sacred influences 
 Which, from the stilly twilight of the place, 
 And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven 
 Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
 Of the invisible breath that swayed at once 
 All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed 
 His spirit with the thought of boundless power 
 And inaccessible majesty. Ah, why 
 Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect 
 God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore 
 Only among the crowd, and under roofs 
 That our frail hands have raised ? Let me, at least, 
 Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, 
 Offer one hymn — thrice happy, if it find 
 Acceptance in His ear. 
 
 Father, thy hand 
 Hath reared these venerable columns. Thou 
 Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down 
 Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose 
 All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun, 
 Budded, and shook their green leaves in thy breeze, 
 And shot toward heaven. The century-living crow 
 Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died 
 Among their branches, till, at last they stood, 
 As now they .stand, massy, and tall, and dark, 
 Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold 
 Communion with his Maker. * * * 
 
 These dim vaults, 
 These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride 
 Report not. No fantastic carvings show 
 The boast of our vain race to change the form 
 Of thy fair works. But thou art here — thou fill'st 
 The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds 
 That run along the summit of these trees 
 In music ; thou art in the cooler breath, 
 That from the inmost darkness of the place 
 Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, 
 The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with thee. 
 
Published by courtesy of Messrs. E. II. Butler & Co., Philadelphia. 
 
 " THE GROVES WERE GOD'S FIRST TEMPLES." 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Here is continual worship — Nature, here, 
 
 In the tranquility that thou dost love, 
 
 Enjoys thy presence. Noiselessly, around, 
 
 From perch to perch, the solitary bird 
 
 Passes ; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs, 
 
 Wells softly forth and wandering steeps the roots 
 
 Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale 
 
 Of all the good it does. 
 
 Thou hast not left 
 Thyself without a witness, in these shades, 
 Of thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace 
 Are here to speak of thee. This mighty oak — 
 By whose immovable stem I stand and seem 
 Almost annihilated- — not a prince, 
 In all that proud old world beyond the deep, 
 E'er wore his crown as loftily as he 
 Wears the green coronal of leaves with which 
 Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root 
 Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare 
 Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower, 
 With scented breath and look so like a smile, 
 Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, 
 An emanation of the indwelling Life, 
 A visible token of the upholding Love, 
 That are the soul of this wide universe. 
 
 My heart is awed within me when I think 
 Of the great miracle that still goes on, 
 In silence, round me — the perpetual work 
 Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed 
 Forever. Written on thy works I read 
 The lesson of thy own eternity. 
 Lo ! all grow old and die — but see, again, 
 How on the faltering footsteps of decay 
 Youth presses — ever gay and beautiful youth 
 In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
 Wave not less proudly that their ancestors 
 Moulder beneath them. * : '- * 
 
 There have been holy men who hid themselves 
 Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave 
 Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived 
 The generation born with them, nor seemed 
 Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks 
 Around them ; — and there have been holy men 
 Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 But let me often to these solitudes 
 Retire, and in thy presence reassure 
 My feeble virtue. * * * 
 
 Be it ours to meditate, 
 In these calm shades, thy milder majesty, 
 And to the beautiful order of thy works 
 Learn to conform the order of our lives. 
 
 W. C. Bryant. 
 
 ;i^)s 
 
 s. 
 
 THE rose is praised for its beaming face, 
 The lily for saintly whiteness; 
 We iove this bloom for its languid grace, 
 And that for its airy lightness. 
 
 We say of the oak, " How grand of girth ! " 
 
 Of the willow we say '* How slender ! " 
 And yet to the soft grass, clothing earth, 
 
 How slight is the praise we render ! 
 
 But the grass knows well, in her secret heart. 
 
 How we love her cool, green raiment ! 
 So she plays in silence her lovely part, 
 
 And cares not at all for payment. 
 
 Each year her buttercups nod and drowse, 
 
 With sun and dew brimming over ; 
 Each year she pleases the greedy cows 
 
 With oceans of honeyed clover. 
 
 Each year on the earth's wide breast she waves 
 
 From Spring until bleak November; 
 And then she remembers so many graves 
 
 That no one else will remember. 
 
 And while she serves us with goodness mute, 
 
 In return for such sweet dealings 
 We tread her carelessly underfoot, — 
 
 Yet we never wound her feelings. 
 
 Here's a lesson that he who runs may read : 
 
 Though I fear but few have won it, — 
 The best reward of a kindly deed 
 
 Is the knowledge of having done it. 
 
 Edgar Fawcett. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE FLOWER MISSION. 
 
 CHILDREN, a flower seems a little thing, but little things often have a 
 mighty influence for good or bad. We are little, but we have an influence, 
 we have a mission in this world. Have you heard the sto^ of the mission and 
 the influence for good, that a simple little flower had, once on a time? Listen, 
 and it shall be told to you, and from it you can learn the lesson that nothing 
 was made to live and die in vain, and that nothing is so poor that it has no in- 
 fluence of some kind, and that the use of that influence for good makes others 
 happy and brings to us a blessing. 
 
 There was once a little flower growing where weeds were tall ; 
 The blue sky bending over, it could see, and that was all. 
 " I know I was meant for something, else I would not be here ! " 
 It kept saying over and over to a briar growing near. 
 
 " I think you must be mistaken," was ever the briar's reply, 
 
 " Such a poor little thing as you are, will live for a day and die." 
 
 But the faith of the flower was steadfast as it turned its face to God, 
 
 Believing it had a mission above the green earth's sod. 
 
 Now the weeds that hedged in the flower grew close by a sick girl's room ; 
 And the breeze brought in through the window a breath of the flowers' perfume. 
 " And oh," cried the girl in gladness, '' I can smell the old home flowers ; 
 Bring in one of the blossoms to cheer these lonely hours." 
 
 They brought in one and laid it in the sick girl's wasted hand ; 
 
 She kissed it over and over, but they could not understand 
 
 What it was she said to the flower of the old home far away, 
 
 Or the words that were sweet with comfort that the flower had to say. 
 
 Each morning they brought a blossom to brighten the sick girl's room; 
 
 And the heart of the humble flower was glad in the tall weed's gloom. 
 " I knew I was meant for something; " it said to its friend the sky, 
 " I was sure of a nobler mission than just to live and die." 
 
 One morning they told the flower that the homesick girl was dead; 
 And it gave them its last sweet blossom as they told it what she said : 
 " It has been such a comfort to me, sick in a stranger land ; 
 That is the message I send it ; it will know and understand." 
 
 Then the flower looked up and whispered to its steadfast friend, the s»ky : 
 " I thank God for the mission he gave me ; with a happy heart I die." 
 Be sure we were meant for something; keep faith in the God above ; 
 And our lives may make others happy with the flowers of human love. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE OAK. 
 
 A GLORIOUS tree is the old gray oak ; 
 He has stood for a thousand years — 
 Has stood and frowned 
 On the trees around, 
 Like a king among his peers ; 
 As around their king they stand, so now, 
 
 When the flowers their pale leaves fold 
 The tall trees round him stand, arrayed 
 In their robes of purple and gold. 
 He has stood like a tower 
 Through sun and shower, 
 And dared the winds to battle ; 
 He has heard the hail, 
 As from plates of mail, 
 From his own limbs shaken, rattle ; 
 He has tossed them about, and shorn the tops 
 
 (When the storm has roused his might) 
 Of the forest trees, as a strong man doth 
 The heads of his foes in fight. 
 
 George Hill. Fall of the Oak. 
 
 The young oak grew, and proudly grew, 
 
 For its roots were deep and strong ; 
 And a shadow broad on the earth it threw, 
 
 And the sunlight lingered long 
 On its glossy leaf where the flickering light 
 
 Was flung to the evening sky; 
 And the wild bird sought to its airy height 
 
 And taught her young to fly. 
 
 Mrs. E. Oakes Smith. 
 
 With his gnarled old arms and his iron form, 
 
 Majestic in the wood, 
 From age to age, in sun and storm, 
 
 The live-oak long has stood ; 
 And generations come and go, 
 
 And still he stands upright, 
 And he sternly looks on the world below, 
 
 As conscious of his might. 
 
 The oak, for grandeur, strength, and noble size, 
 Excels all trees that in the forest grow ; 
 
 From acorn small, that trunk, those branches rise, 
 To which such signal benefits we owe. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Behold, what sheltec in its ample shade, 
 
 From noontide sun, or from the drenching rain. 
 
 And of its timber stanch, vast ships are made, 
 To sweep rich cargoes o'er the watery main. 
 
 SOLILOQUY OF DOUGLAS— SOLEMNITY. 
 
 THIS place, — the centre of the grove : — 
 Here stands the oak, the monarch of the wood ! 
 How sweet and solemn is this midnight scene ! 
 The silver moon unclouded holds her way 
 Through skies where I could count each little star; 
 The fanning west wind scarcely stirs the leaves ; 
 The river, rushing o'er its pebbled bed, 
 Imposes silence with a stilly sound. 
 In such a place as this, at such an hour — 
 If ancestry may be in aught believed — 
 Descending spirits have conversed with man, 
 And told the secrets of the world unknown. 
 
 Home, 
 
 ARBUTUS. 
 
 HAIL the flower whose early bridal makes the festival of Spring ! 
 Deeper far than outward meaning lies the comfort she doth bring; 
 From the heights of happy winning, 
 Gaze we back on hope's beginning 
 Feel the vital strength and beauty hidden from our eyes before; 
 And we know, with hearts grown stronger, 
 Tho' our waiting seemeth longer, 
 Yet with Love's divine assurance, we should covet nothing more. 
 
 Elaine Goodale. 
 
 How fair is the rose ! what a beautiful flower, 
 
 The glory of April and May ! 
 But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour, 
 
 And they wither and die in a day. 
 Yet the rose has one powerful virtue to boast, 
 
 Above all the flowers of the field ; 
 When its leaves are all dead, and its fine colors lost, 
 
 Still how sweet a perfume it will yield ! 
 
 • Isaac Watts. 
 
IO ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THOUGHTS ON THE FOREST. 
 
 WELCOME, pure thoughts! welcome, ye silent groves! 
 These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly loves; 
 Now the winged people of the sky shall sing 
 My cheerful anthems to the gladsome Spring; 
 And if contentment be a stranger, — then 
 I'll ne'er look for it, but in heaven again. 
 
 Sir Henry Wotton. 
 
 Oh ! come to the woodlands, 't is joy to behold, 
 
 The new waken'd buds in our pathway unfold; 
 
 For Spring has come forth, and the bland southern breeze 
 
 Is telling the tale to the shrub and the trees, 
 
 Which, anxious to show her 
 
 The duty they owe her, 
 Have decked themselves gayly in emerald and gold. 
 
 I love thee in the Spring, 
 Earth-crowning forest! when amid the shades 
 The gentle South first waves her odorous wing, 
 
 And joy fills all the glades. 
 
 In the hot Summer time, 
 With deep delight, the somber aisles I roam, 
 Or, soothed by some cool brook's melodious chime 
 
 Rest on thy verdant loam. 
 
 But O, when Autumn's hand 
 Hath marked thy beauteous foliage for the grave, 
 How doth thy splendor, as entranced I stand, 
 
 My willing heart enslave ! 
 
 Wm. Jewett Pabodie. 
 
 Hail, old patrician trees so great and good ! 
 Hail, ye plebeian under-wood ! 
 
 Where the poetic birds rejoice, 
 And for their quiet nests and plenteous food 
 
 Pay with their grateful voice.- 
 
 Hail, the poor Muses' richest manor-seat ! 
 Ye country houses and retreat, 
 
 Which all the happy gods so love, 
 That for you oft they quit their bright and great 
 
 Metropolis above. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. I i 
 
 Tis beautiful to see a forest stand, 
 
 Brave with its moss-grown monarchs and the pride 
 Of foliage dense, to which the south wind bland 
 
 Comes with a kiss as lover to his bride; 
 To watch the light grow fainter, as it streams 
 
 Through arching aisles, where branches interlace, 
 
 Where somber pines rise o'er the shadowy gleams 
 
 Of silver birch, trembling with modest grace. 
 
 A. B. Neal. 
 
 The heave, the wave, and bend 
 Of everlasting trees, whose busy leaves 
 Rustle their songs of praise, while ruin weaves 
 A robe of verdure for their yielding bark, 
 While mossy garlands, full and rich and dark, 
 Creep slowly round them ! Monarch of the wood, 
 Whose mighty scepters sway the mountain brood, 
 
 Shelter the winged idolators of Day — 
 And grapple with the storm-god, hand to hand, 
 Then drop like weary pyramids away, 
 Stupendous monuments of calm decay. 
 
 John Neal. 
 
 There oft the muse, what most delights her, sees 
 
 Long living galleries of aged trees, 
 
 Bold sons of earth, that lift their arms so high, 
 
 As if once they would invade the sky. 
 
 In such green palaces the first kings reigned, 
 
 Slept in their shade, and angels entertained; 
 
 With such old councillors they did advise, 
 
 And, by frequenting sacred groves, grew wise. 
 
 Oh ! bear me then to vast embowering shades ; 
 To twilight groves, and visionary vales ; 
 To weeping grottoes, and prophetic glooms ! 
 Where angel forms athwart the solemn dusk 
 Tremendous, sweep, or seem to sweep, along; 
 And voices, more than human, through the void, 
 Deep-sounding, seize the enthusiastic ear. 
 
 Thomson. Autumn. 
 
 We bring daisies, little starry daisies, 
 
 The angels have planted to remind us of the sky. 
 
 When the stars have vanished they twinkle their mute praises, 
 
 Telling, in the dewy grass, of brighter fields on high. 
 
 Read. 
 
I 2 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE DREAMER AND REAPER. 
 
 [Extract from a poem read by Rev. Dr. James H. Ecob, of Albany, before the 
 Society of the Alumni of Hamilton College on the 26th of June, 1889. The 
 theme of the poem was suggested by the visit of Dr. Ecob to the home of his 
 childhood, after an absence of many ) r ears.] 
 
 MY father loved a tree as men 
 Are wont to love their kind ; so, when 
 He left the hot and hated life 
 • Of city streets and city strife, 
 As flies the nesting bird, he flew, 
 On eager wing, by instinct true, 
 To build and rear his little brood. 
 Deep in the wood's green solitude. 
 A young bird in the nest first lifts 
 His wondering eves thro' sunny rifts 
 Of happy leaves ; about his nest 
 The russet arms are strongly pressed, 
 The springing arches, high and dim, 
 Are haunted by the whispered hymn 
 Of summer winds, while far below 
 The voices of the great world flow. 
 So nested all my early years 
 Among the trees. The wood enspheres 
 My first, my fairest memories. 
 And deep as life in Druid trees, 
 Lie hidden founts of tears and love, 
 That answer to the hymn above, 
 Of softly stirring boughs and leaves. 
 Bethesda-like, my soul receives 
 New life and healing, quickening moods, 
 When troubled by the angel of the woods. 
 
 So slipped those lovely, shadowy years, 
 As slips a wandering wind one hears 
 Among the trees ; a sudden stir 
 Of startled leaves ; upon the floor 
 Of moss and flowers, a tangled sheen 
 Of light and shade, and then, between 
 Your breaths, 'tis gone. You hear its feet 
 Retreating airily and fleet, 
 And wonder if it e'er had been, 
 Or if a gust of dreams broke in 
 Upon the soul. 
 
 I turned again, 
 When I had been with time and men, 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I 3 
 
 Till heart and brain were faint and sore, 
 
 And sought with eager thirst once more 
 
 To bathe my spirit in the shade 
 
 Of those beloved woods, which made 
 
 Forever more my childhood seem 
 
 A glory, an unending dream. 
 
 I scarce could keep my longing feet 
 
 From racing, boy-like, to compete 
 
 With all my hurrying soul, which ran 
 
 So like a child, adown the hill, 
 
 Ahead of the slow-pacing man, 
 
 To where the path across the rill 
 
 Turned sharp and left you in the wood. 
 
 And there with beating heart I stood 
 
 But lo ! my woods, beloved woods, were gone. 
 
 Not one of all their hosts, not one, 
 
 Remained. As flies upon the wind 
 
 The autumn leaves, no trace behind 
 
 Of all their fiery pomp, so fled 
 
 My mighty woods before the years. 
 
 I stood as one above the dead, 
 
 Stricken with loss, in uncontrolled tears. 
 
 The wide, unsympathetic sky 
 Looked down with blurred and sultry eye. 
 And where my childhood's feet had strayed 
 O'er moss and gnarled root and shade, 
 All wrought with shifting green and gold, 
 More rare than lace on armor old ; 
 Where stood the solemn ranks of trees; 
 Where rolled such organ harmonies 
 As ne'er were heard in minster pile ; 
 Where mysteries haunted crypt and aisle ; 
 Where harping spirits of the air 
 Were here and there and everywhere ; 
 Behold, there flowed a field of wheat, 
 Rustling and yellowing in the heat. 
 Beyond the knoll where feed the sheep, 
 The farmers' plain white gables peep, 
 New sheaves a lumbering wagon brings, 
 The driver flips his whip and sings. 
 
 With heavy heart I slowly turned ; 
 
 The golden wheat that flared and burned 
 
 Beneath the sun, how small, how cheap ! 
 
 Come quickly, sickle, quickly reap ! 
 
 Come rough, strong bands and quickly bind ! 
 
14 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 And turn, O roaring mill, to grind. 
 To stop the hungry mouths that wait ! 
 Oh, sordid world, what vulgar rate 
 Is this, to give thy woods for wheat ? 
 Thy hidden thought and deep retreat 
 Of mysteries; thy solemn hymn, 
 Thy noonday twilight cool and dim, 
 For this dull round of use and care, 
 Of need and toil and sultry glare ! 
 
 But, as I walked, a better mind 
 
 Began the parable to find. 
 
 For men must live, and good is wheat ; 
 
 We all may dream, but all must eat. 
 
 I wonder if the gods ordain, 
 
 That, just as a rainbow and the rain, 
 
 The beauty and the use combine, 
 
 So dreams and strength shall entertwine. 
 
 The visions that our boyhood led, 
 
 Dissolve upon the hills of youth, 
 
 To feed some secret fountain head, 
 
 That bursts in man to strength and truth, 
 
 Here, age on age, the mighty wood 
 
 Drank deep the sun's exhaustless flood; 
 
 Then dropped its million flaming leaves. 
 
 The dull, cold earth below receives 
 
 The kindling bath of lambent fire, 
 
 Aerial gold and warm desire, 
 
 And stores the generous wealth and heat, 
 
 To burst at last in srolden wheat. 
 
 KIND WORDS. 
 
 KIND hearts are the gardens, 
 Kind thoughts are the roots, 
 Kind words are the blossoms, 
 Kind deeds are the fruits. 
 
 Little moments make an hour; 
 
 Little thoughts, a book ; 
 Little seeds, a tree or flower.; 
 
 Water drops, a brook ; 
 Little deeds of faith and love; 
 
 Make a home for vou above. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. I 5 
 
 THE PEBBLE AND THE ACORN. 
 
 U 
 
 AM a pebble ! and yield to none ! " 
 X Were the swelling words of a tiny stone ; 
 " Nor time nor seasons can alter me; 
 
 I am abiding, while ages flee. 
 The pelting hail, and the drizzling rain, 
 
 Have tried to soften me, long, invain; 
 And the tender dew has sought to melt 
 
 Or touch my heart, but it was not felt. 
 There's none that can tell about my birth, 
 
 For I am as old as the big, round earth. 
 The children of men arise, and pass 
 
 Out of the world, like the blades of grass; 
 And many a foot on me has trod, 
 
 That's gone from sight and under the sod, 
 I am a pebble ! but what art thou, 
 
 Rattling along from the restless bough ? " 
 
 The acorn was shocked at this rude salute, 
 
 And lay for a moment abashed and mute ; 
 She never before had been so near 
 
 His gravelly ball, the mundane sphere; 
 And she felt for a time at a loss to know 
 
 How to answer a thing so coarse and low. 
 But to give reproof of a nobler sort 
 
 Than the angry look, or the keen retort. 
 At length she said, in a gentle tone, 
 
 " Since it has happened that I am thrown 
 From the lighter element where I grew, 
 
 Down to another so hard and new, 
 And beside a personage so august, 
 
 Abased, I .will cover my head with dust, 
 And quickly retire from the sight of one 
 
 Whom time, nor season, nor storm, nor sun, 
 Nor the gentle dew, nor the grinding heel 
 
 Has ever subdued, or.made to feel ! " 
 And soon in the earth she sunk away, 
 
 From the comfortless spot where the pebble lay. 
 
 But it was not long ere the soil was broke 
 
 By the tiny head of an infant oak ! 
 And, as it arose, and its branches spread, 
 
 The pebble looked up, and wondering, said, 
 'A modest acorn, — never to tell 
 
 What was inclosed in its simple shell ! 
 
r 6 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 That the pride of the forest was folded up 
 
 In the narrow space of its little cup ! 
 And meekly to sink in the darksome earth, 
 
 Which proves that nothing could hide her worth ! 
 And, oh, how many will tread on me, 
 
 To come and admire the beautiful tree, 
 Whose head is towering toward the sky, 
 
 Above such a worthless thing as I ! 
 Useless and vain, a cumberer here, 
 
 I have been idling from year to year. 
 But never, from this, shall a vaunting word 
 
 From the humble pebble again be heard, 
 Till something without me or within, 
 
 Shall show the purpose for which I've been ! " 
 The pebble its vow could not forget, 
 
 And it lies there wrapped in silence yet. 
 
 Hannah F. Gould. 
 
 AUTUMN VOICES. 
 
 WHEN I was in the wood to-day 
 The golden leaves were falling round me, 
 And I thought I heard soft voices say 
 
 Words that with sad enchantment bound me. 
 
 ' O, dying year ! O, flying year ! 
 
 O, days of dimness, nights of sorrow ! 
 O, lessening night ! O, lengthening night! 
 O, morn forlorn and hopeless morrow ! " 
 
 No bodies visible had these 
 
 Whose voice I heard so sadly calling ; 
 They were the spirits of the trees 
 
 Lamenting for the bright leaves falling. 
 
 Prisoners in naked trunks they lie, 
 
 In leafless boughs have lodging slender ; 
 But soon as Spring is in the sky 
 
 They deck again the woods with splendor. 
 
 The light leaves rustled on the ground, 
 
 Wind-stirred, and when again I hearkened, 
 Hushed were those voices. Wide around 
 
 Night fell, and all the ways were darkened. 
 
 F. W. B., in Spectator. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I J 
 
 THE MEETING OF THE DRYADS. 
 
 IT was not many centuries since, 
 When, seated on the moonlit green, 
 Beneath the tree of liberty 
 
 A ring of weeping sprites was seen. 
 * * * * 
 
 They met not as they once had met, 
 
 To laugh over many a jocund tale ; 
 But every pulse was beating low, 
 
 And every cheek was cold and pale. 
 
 There rose a fair but faded one, 
 
 Who oft had cheered them with her song ; 
 She waved a mutilated arm, 
 
 And silence held the listening throng. 
 
 " Sweet friends," the gentle nymph began, 
 
 " When often by our feet has passed 
 
 Some biped, Nature's walking whim, 
 Say, have we trimmed one awkward shape 
 Or lopped away one crooked limb ? 
 
 " Go on, fair Science ; soon to thee 
 
 Shall Nature yield her idle boast ; 
 Her vulgar fingers formed a tree, 
 
 But thou hast trained it to a post. 
 
 "Go paint the birch's silver rind, 
 
 And quilt the peach with softer down ; 
 Up with the willow's trailing threads, 
 
 Off with the sunflower's radiant crown ! 
 
 * * # # 
 
 " I cannot smile, — 
 
 * * * * 
 " Again in every quivering leaf 
 
 That moment's agony I feel, 
 When limbs, that spurned the northern blast, 
 Shrunk from the sacrilegious steel. 
 
 " A curse upon the wretch that dared 
 To coop up with his felon saw ! 
 
 * * * * 
 
 " May nightshade cluster round his path, 
 
 And thistles shoot, and brambles cling; 
 May blistering ivy scorch his veins, 
 
 And dogwood burn, and nettles sting. 
 2 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 On him may never shadow fall, 
 
 When fever racks his throbbing brow, 
 And his last shilling buy a rope 
 
 To hang him on my highest bough ! " 
 
 She spoke; — the morning's herald beam 
 
 Sprang from the bosom of the sea, 
 And every mangled sprite returned 
 
 In sadness to her wounded tree. 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 WAITING FOR THE MAY. 
 
 FROM out his hive there came a bee ; 
 " Has spring-time come or not ? " said he. 
 Alone within a garden bed 
 A small, pale snowdrop raised its head. 
 
 " Tis March, this tells me," said the bee ; 
 
 "The hive is still the place for me ; 
 The day is chill, although 'tis sunny, 
 And icy cold this snowdrop's honey." 
 
 Again came humming forth the bee, 
 " What month is with us now ? " said he. 
 Gay crocus-blossoms, blue and white 
 And yellow, opened to the light. 
 
 " It must be April," said the bee, 
 
 " And April's scarce the month for me. 
 
 I'll taste these flowers (the day is sunny), 
 
 And wait before I gather honey." 
 
 Once more came out the waiting bee. 
 " 'Tis come ; I smell the spring ! " said he. 
 The violets were all in bloom ; ■ 
 The lilac tossed a purple plume. 
 
 The daffodil wore a yellow crown ; 
 The cherry tree a snow-white gown ; 
 And by the brookside, wet with dew ; 
 The early wild wake-robins grew. 
 
 " It is the May-time," said the bee ; 
 
 " The queen of all the months for me ; 
 The flowers are here, the sky is sunny, 
 'Tis now the time to gather honey." 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 19 
 
 PLANTING OF THE APPLE TREE. 
 
 COME, let us plant the apple tree. 
 Cleave the tough greensward with the spade; 
 Wide let its hollow bed be made ; 
 There gently lay the roots, and there 
 Sift the dark mould with kindly care, 
 
 And press it o'er them tenderly — 
 As, round the sleeping infant's feet, 
 We softly fold the cradle-sheet; 
 So plant we the apple tree. 
 
 What plant we in this apple tree? 
 Buds, which the breath of summer days 
 Shall lengthen into leafy sprays ; 
 Boughs where the thrush with crimson breast, 
 Shall haunt and sing and hide her nest; 
 
 We plant upon the sunny lea, 
 A shadow for the noontide hour, 
 A shelter from the summer shower, 
 
 When we plant the apple tree. 
 
 What plant we in this apple tree ? 
 Sweets for a hundred flowery springs 
 To load the May wind's restless wings, 
 When from the orchard row, he pours 
 Its fragrance through our open doors ; 
 
 A world of blossoms for the bee, 
 Flowers for the sick girl's silent room, 
 For the glad infant sprigs of bloom, 
 
 We plant with the apple tree. 
 
 / What plant we in this apple tree? 
 Fruits that shall swell in sunny June, 
 And redden in the August noon, 
 And drop, when gentle airs come by, 
 That fan the blue September sky, 
 
 While children come, with cries of glee, 
 And seek them where the fragrant grass 
 Betrays their bed to those who pass, 
 
 At the foot of the apple tree. 
 
 And when, above this apple tree, 
 The winter stars are quivering bright, 
 And winds go howling through the night, 
 Girls, whose young eyes o'erflow with mirth, 
 Shall peel its fruit by cottage hearth. 
 
20 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 And guests in prouder homes shall see, 
 Heaped with the grape of Cintra's vine 
 And golden orange of the line, 
 
 The fruit of the apple tree. 
 
 The fruitage of this apple tree 
 Winds and our flag of stripe and star 
 Shall bear to coasts that lie afar, 
 Where men shall wonder at the view, 
 And ask in what fair groves they grew; 
 
 And sojourners beyond the sea 
 Shall think of childhood's careless day, 
 And long, long hours of summer play, 
 
 In'the shade of the apple tree. 
 
 Each year shall give this apple tree 
 A broader flush of roseate bloom, 
 A deeper maze of verdurous gloom, 
 And loosen, when the frost-clouds lower, 
 The crisp brown leaves in thicker shower. 
 
 The years shall come and pass, but we 
 Shall hear no longer, where we lie, 
 The summer's songs, the autumn's sigh, 
 
 In the boughs of the apple tree. 
 
 And time shall waste this apple tree. 
 Oh, when its aged branches throw 
 Thin shadows on the ground below, 
 Shall fraud and force and iron will 
 Oppress the weak and helpless still? 
 
 What shall the tasks of mercy be, 
 Amid the toils, the strifes, the tears 
 Of those who live when length of years 
 
 Is wasting this little apple tree ? 
 
 " Who planted this old apple tree ? " 
 The children of that distant day 
 Thus to some aged man shall say ; 
 And, gazing on its mossy stem, 
 The gray-haired man shall answer them: 
 
 "A poet of the land was he, 
 Born in the rude but good old times : 
 Tis said he made some quaint old rhymes, 
 On planting the apple tree." 
 
 William Cullen Bryant. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 2 I 
 
 PLANT A TREE. 
 
 H 
 
 E who plants a tree 
 Plants a hope. 
 Rootlets up through fibres blindly grope ; 
 Leaves unfold into horizons free. 
 So man's life must climb 
 From the clods of time 
 Unto heavens sublime. 
 Canst thou prophesy, thou little tree, 
 What the glory of thy boughs shall be ? 
 
 He who plants a tree 
 Plants a ]o\ j ; 
 Plants a comfort that will never cloy. 
 Every day a fresh reality. 
 
 Beautiful and strong, 
 
 To whose shelter throng 
 
 Creatures blithe with song. 
 If thou couldst but know, thou happy tree, 
 Of the bliss that shalt inhabit thee. 
 
 He who plants a tree 
 He plants peace. 
 Under its green curtains jargons cease, 
 Leaf and zephyr murmur soothingly; 
 
 Shadows soft with sleep 
 
 Down tired ej^elids creep, 
 
 Balm of slumber deep. 
 Never hast thou dreamed, thou blessed tree, 
 Of the benediction thou shalt be. 
 
 He who plants a tree 
 He plants youth ; 
 Vigor won for centuries in sooth ; 
 Life of time, that hints eternity ! 
 
 Boughs their strength uprear, 
 
 New shoots every year 
 
 On old growths appear. 
 Thou shalt teach the ages, sturdy tree, 
 Youth of soul is immortality. 
 
 He who plants a tree 
 He plants love ; 
 Tents of coolness spreading out above 
 Wayfarers, he may not live to see 
 
 Gifts that grow are best ; 
 
 Hands that bless are blest; 
 
 Plant ; life does the rest? 
 Heaven and earth help him who plants a tree, 
 And his work its own reward shall be. 
 
 Lucy Larcom. 
 
2 2 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 SPRING AND SUMMER. 
 
 SPRING is growing up, 
 Is it not a pity ? 
 She was such a little thing, 
 
 And so very pretty. 
 Summer is extremely grand, 
 We must pay her duty; 
 But it is to little Spring 
 
 That she owes her beauty ! 
 
 From the glowing sky 
 
 Summer shines above us; 
 Spring was such a little dear, 
 
 But will Summer love us ? 
 She is very beautiful, 
 
 With her grown up blisses, 
 Summer we must bow before; 
 
 Spring we coax with kisses' 
 
 Spring is growing up, 
 
 Leaving us so lonely; 
 In the place of little Spring 
 
 We have Summer only ! 
 Summer with her lofty airs, 
 
 And her stately paces ; 
 In the place of little Spring, 
 
 With her childish graces. 
 
 ALL YELLOW. 
 
 A DANDELION sprang on the lawn, 
 All gayly dressed in yellow; 
 He nodded in the springing grass, 
 A jolly little fellow. 
 
 A yellow bird flew from the tree; 
 
 He, too, was dressed in yellow, 
 The saucy thing to steal my coat ! 
 
 The thief, the wicked fellow ! " 
 
 A golden sunbeam came that way, 
 And eyes each little fellow; 
 
 Dear me when one the fashion leads, 
 How common grows my yellow." 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 2 3 
 
 A SONG TO MOTHER EARTH. 
 
 IN the merry month of May 
 Comes our gladsome Arbor Day, 
 And with cheerful voice we raise 
 Hearty notes of grateful praise. 
 
 To our loving mother earth, 
 To her kindness and her worth, 
 She who makes the world so gay, 
 On this happy Arbor Day. 
 
 She it is who makes the field 
 Plant and flower and fragrance yield, 
 And the graceful leafy tree, 
 Planted now along the lea. 
 
 Beautiful the meadow bright, 
 In the sunbeam's golden light — 
 Buttercup and daisy fair 
 Mother earth has scattered there. 
 
 Clover, too, and lily white 
 Blossom in the morning light, — 
 All are tended by her hand, 
 As they deck the pleasant land. 
 
 See the waving blades of grass 
 As along our way we pass ! 
 Mother earth has planted these 
 And the flowers, our sight to please. 
 
 Mother earth, thy name we sing, 
 While our cheery voices ring ! 
 Loud our shouts of joy we raise 
 As we chant thy worthy praise ! 
 
 God has given mother earth 
 Children fair, of wondrous birth — 
 His great goodness we adore, 
 We will bless Him evermore ! 
 Troy, N. Y., 1889. James H. Kellogg. 
 
24 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE MAIDEN SPRING. 
 
 DIALOGUE. 
 
 May : 
 
 ALL the buds and bees are singing; 
 Ail the lily bells are ringing; 
 All the brooks run full of laughter, 
 And the wind comes whispering after. 
 What is this they sing and say? 
 " It is May !" 
 
 Look, dear children, look ! the meadows, 
 Where the sunshine chases shadows, 
 Are alive with fairy faces, 
 Peeping from their grassy places. 
 What is this the flowers say ? 
 '•It is May! " 
 
 See ! the fair blue sky is brighter, 
 And our hearts with hope are lighter. 
 All the bells of joy are ringing; 
 All are grateful voices singing ; 
 All the storms have passed away. 
 " It is May ! " 
 Roses : 
 
 We are blushing roses, 
 
 Bending with our fullness, 
 'Midst our close capped sister buds, 
 
 Warming the green coolness. 
 
 Hold one of us lightly — 
 
 See from what a slender 
 Stalk we bower in heavy blooms, 
 
 And roundness rich and tender. 
 
 Lilies: 
 
 We are lilies fair, 
 
 The flower of virgin light ; 
 Nature held us forth, and said, 
 
 " Lo ! my thought of white." 
 
 Ever since then, angels 
 
 Hold us in their hands; 
 You may see them when they take 
 In pictures their sweet stands. 
 
 Like the garden's angels 
 
 Also do we seem, 
 And not the less for being crowned 
 
 With a golden dream. 
 
 Leigh Hunt. 
 
 Leigh Hunt. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 2 5 
 
 Violets : 
 
 We are the sweet flowers, 
 
 Born of sunny showers, 
 (Think, whene'er you see us, what our beauty saith), 
 
 Utterance mute and bright, 
 
 Of some unknown delight; 
 We fill the air with pleasure by our simple breath, 
 
 All who see us love us — 
 
 We benefit all places ; 
 
 Unto sorrow we give smiles and unto graces — races. 
 
 Leigh Hunt. 
 Pink : 
 
 And, dearer I, the pink, must be, 
 
 And me thou sure dost choose, 
 Or else the gard'ner ne'er for me 
 
 Such watchful care would use ; 
 A crowd of leaves enriching bloom ! 
 And mine through life the sweet perfume, 
 
 And all the thousand hues. 
 
 Goethe. 
 Daisy: 
 
 The flower that's bright with the sun's own light, 
 
 And hearty and true and bold, 
 Is the daisy sweet that nods at your feet, 
 
 And sprinkles the fields with gold. 
 
 Daffodil: 
 
 The dainty lady daffodil 
 
 Hath donned her amber gown, 
 And on her fair and sunny head 
 
 Sparkles her golden crown. 
 
 Her tall green leaves, like sentinels, 
 Surround my lady's throne, 
 
 And graciously in happy state, 
 She reigns a queen alone. 
 
 Arbutus: 
 
 If spring has maids of honor, 
 
 And why should not the spring, 
 With all her dainty service, 
 
 Have thought of some such thing? 
 
 If spring has maids of honor, 
 
 Arbutus leads the train; 
 A lovelier, a fairer, 
 
 The spring would seek in vain. 
 
 Mary E. Sharpe. 
 
 H. H. 
 
2 6 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 WORDS FROM THE TREE. 
 
 IT is a great pleasure to think of the young people assembling to celebrate 
 the planting of trees, and connecting them with the names of authors 
 whose works are the farther and higher products of our dear old Mother Nature. 
 An Oriental poet says of his hero : 
 
 Sunshine was he in a Wintry place. 
 And in midsummer coolness and shade. 
 
 Such are all true thinkers, and no truer monuments of them can exist than 
 beautiful trees. Our word book is from the beech tablets on which men used 
 to write. Our word Bible is from the Greek for bark of a tree. Our word 
 paper is from the tree papyrus — the tree which Emerson found the most inter- 
 esting thing he saw in Sicily. Our word library is from the Latin liber, bark of 
 a tree. Thus literature is traceable in the growth of trees, and was originally 
 written on leaves and wooden tablets. The West responds to the East in asso- 
 ciating great writers with groups of trees, and a grateful posterity will appre- 
 ciate the poetry of this idea as well while it enjoys the shade and beauty which 
 the schools are securing for it. 
 
 Moncure D. Conway, Extract from Letter. 
 
 Under the reign of the Moorish caliphs the Iberian peninsula resembled a 
 vast garden, yielding grain and fruit of every known variety, in the most per- 
 fect quality, and in endless abundance. But then the Sierras and the mountain 
 slopes were covered with a luxuriant growth of timber, which was afterward 
 wantonly destroyed under the rule of kings. Now nearly all the plateau lands 
 of Spain are desert-like and unfit for agriculture, because of the scarcity of rain 
 and the want of water. The once delicious climate has become changeable and 
 rough. The average depth of the rivers is greatly diminished. The political 
 decadence of Spain has even been attributed to the destruction of the forests. 
 
 Of the infinite variety of fruits which spring from the bosom of the earth, 
 the trees of the wood are greatest in dignity. Of all the works of the creation 
 which know the changes of life and death, the trees of the forest have the 
 longest existence. Of all the objects which crown the gray earth, the woods 
 preserve unchanged, throughout the greatest reach of time, their native 
 character. | The works of man are ever varying their aspect; his towns and 
 his fields alike reflect the unstable opinions, the fickle wills and fancies of each 
 passing generation; but the forests on his borders remain to-da)' the same as they 
 were ages of years since. Old as the everlasting hills, during thousands of 
 seasons they have put forth and laid down their verdure in calm obedience to 
 the decree which first bade them cover the ruins of the Deluge. 
 
 Susan Fenimore Cooper. Riiral Hours. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 27 
 
 ARBOR DAY POEM. 
 
 Written and recited at the planting of the Buffalo " Normal Class tree,' 
 April 26, 1889, by Mrs. Anna R. Pride. 
 
 COME thou, my ofttimes sadly labored muse, 
 Infuse my pen with fire to meetly sing 
 A strain befitting this empiric rite, 
 A song that voices all the zeal we bring. 
 Thou knowest the theme and needst not warrior shield, 
 No song of valor nor of love I ween 
 Shall be the task for which thine aid to yield, — 
 Just clothe my song with bright and classic green. 
 
 Thou little tree with sturdy northern face, 
 From Borealis' fir-clad, ice-crowned zone, 
 Knowest thou the honor that we relegate 
 In planting thee thus for our very own ? 
 We hollow out thy resting place with care ; 
 Thy rootlets coil beneath thy shining head ; 
 While sixty pairs of hands the task divide, 
 To make thy vernal and historic bed. 
 
 Class tree, classical and classed art thou 
 Now, with the evergreen and ancient yew 
 That time has planted for a horologue, 
 To watch these Normal classes come and go. 
 Take heart of all that here with thee we plant 
 Bright dreams, hopes as Parnassus' crown, 
 Wealth of devotion, deep as St5^gian stream, 
 O'er which brave souls pass on to high renown. 
 
 Drink rootlets of the Ambrosial wine we pour 
 
 Till youth immortal permeates thy heart ; 
 
 Be thou milestone on path of life, 
 
 That points the march of those that choose the better part. 
 
 The migratory flocks that seek thy shade, 
 
 Whether to build a tome or build a nest, 
 
 Shall find a potent, soothing, magic charm 
 
 That woos them all invitingly to rest. 
 
 We place the turf around thy form, and go 
 
 Not as sad mourners leaving buried dust; 
 
 But hopeful, waiting for a crowning day, 
 
 Perfection cometh aye for those that trust. 
 
 We plant thee in the century's jubilee, 
 
 Trusting thy years may not have reached their prime, 
 
 When other bards shall swell the glorious lay 
 
 The nation's natal day in nineteen eighty-nine. 
 
^8 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Blow strong west wind with hopeful vigor fraught, 
 But spare our pillars grand, our turrets high, 
 And send thy vivifying aid to live, and grow, 
 Down where our class tree's buried life-germs lie. 
 And sunny skies smile after showers have kissed 
 Dust from the leaflets' trembling form away, 
 And keep our tree from blight and death, to greet 
 The dawn of each returning Arbor Day. 
 
 WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE. 
 
 WOODMAN, spare that tree ! / f 
 
 Touch not a single 4***! IhrvuVK/- 
 
 
 Touch not a single fe^w ! 
 In youth it sheltered me, 
 
 And TH protect it now. 
 'T was my forefather's hand 
 
 That placed it near his cot 
 There, woodman, let it stand ; 
 
 Thy ax shall harm it not ! 
 
 That old familiar tree, 
 
 Whose glory and renown 
 Are spread o'er land and sea, — 
 
 And wouldst thou hack it down ? 
 Woodman, forbear thy stroke ! 
 
 Cut not its earth-bound ties ; 
 O, spare that aged oak, 
 
 Now towering to the skies ! 
 
 When but an idle boy 
 
 I sought its grateful shade ; 
 In all their gushing joy, 
 
 Here, too, my sisters played. 
 My mother kissed me here ; 
 
 My father pressed my hand — 
 Forgive the foolish tear; 
 
 But let that old oak stand. 
 
 My heart-strings round thee cling, 
 
 Close as thy bark, old friend; 
 Here shall the wild-bird sing, 
 
 And still thy branches bend. 
 Old tree ! the storm still brave ! 
 
 And, woodman, leave the spot ; 
 While I've a hand to save, 
 
 Thy ax shall harm it not. 
 
 George P. Morris. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 29 
 
 "WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE." 
 
 HISTORY OF THE POEM. 
 
 1 TEACHERS may give pupils the following account of the way in which Mr. 
 Morris came to write the poem, "Woodman, Spare that Tree." The 
 poem may then be memorized by all the pupils, and recited or sung on "Arbor 
 Day." Mr. Morris, in a letter to a friend, dated New York, February 1, 1837, 
 gave in substance the following account : 
 
 Riding out of town a few days since, in company with a friend, an old gentle- 
 man, he invited me to turn down a little, romantic woodland pass, not far from 
 Bloomingdale. "Your object?" inquired I. "Merely to look once more at an 
 old tree planted by my grandfather long before I was born, under which I used 
 to play when a boy, and where my sisters played with me. There I often lis- 
 tened to the good advice of my parents. Father, mother, sisters — all are gone ; 
 nothing but the old tree remains." And a paleness overspread his fine counte- 
 nance, and tears came to his eyes. After a moment's pause, he added : " Don't 
 think me foolish. I don't know how it is : I never ride out but I turn down 
 this lane to look at that old tree. 1 have a thousand recollections about it, and 
 I always greet it as a familiar and well-remembered friend." These words were 
 scarcely uttered when the old gentleman cried out, "There it is." Near the 
 tree stood a man with his coat off, sharpening an ax. " You're not going to 
 cut that tree down, surely?" Yes, but I am, though," said the woodman. 
 "What for?" inquired the old gentleman, with choked emotion. "What for? 
 I like that! Well, I will tell 3 r ou, I want the tree for fire wood." "What is 
 the tree worth to you for fire wood? " " Why, when down, about ten dollars." 
 "Suppose I should give you that sum," said the old gentleman, "would you 
 let it stand?" "Yes." "You are sure of that?" "Positive!" "Then give 
 me a bond to that effect." We went into the little cottage in which my com- 
 panion was born, but which is now occupied by the woodman. I drew up the 
 bond. It was signed, and the money paid over. As we left, the young girl, 
 the daughter of the woodman, assured us that while she lived the tree should 
 not be cut. These circumstances made a strong impression on my mind, and 
 furnished me with the materials for the song I send you. 
 
 The objects of the restoration of the forests are as multifarious as the motives 
 which have led to their destruction, and as the evils which that destruction has 
 occasioned. The planting of the mountains will diminish the frequency and 
 violence of river inundations ; prevent the formation of torrents ; mitigate the 
 extremes of atmospheric temperature, humidity and precipitation; restore 
 dried-up springs, rivulets and sources of irrigation ; shelter the fields from 
 chilling and from parching winds ; prevent the spread of miasmatic effluvia; 
 and, finally, furnish an inexhaustible and self-renewing supply of material 
 indispensable to so many purposes of domestic comfort, to the successful exer- 
 cise of every act of peace, every destructive energy of war. 
 
 George P. Marsh, " Man and Nature." 
 
3° 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 PUSSY AND THE POPPIES. 
 
 POPPIES red, and pink, and white, 
 In my grandma's garden beds, 
 'Gainst the green you look so bright ; 
 
 How you dance and nod your heads ! 
 
 Little kittie, ball of fuzz, 
 
 (Brightest eyes I ever saw !) 
 If you try to make him buzz, 
 
 That old bee will sting your paw. 
 
 You're a lazy pussy cat, 
 
 Watching poppies bow and sway; 
 Breezes make them bend like that, 
 
 They don't do it for your play. 
 
 Only see how fast I sew ! 
 
 Grandma said to piece this square ; 
 It's no time to play, you know, 
 
 Till you've done your work all fair. 
 
 You should go and catch the mice 
 
 In my grandpa's corn and meal. 
 If you take my good advice, 
 
 Only think how proud you -11 feel. 
 
 There's my grandma calling me ! 
 
 Oh, what ever shall I do ? 
 For my seam's not done, you see, 
 
 Here I've sat and scolded you. 
 
 Youth's Companion. 
 
 THE WILLOW TREE. 
 
 TREE of the gloom, o'erhanging the tomb, 
 Thou seem'st to love the churchyard sod ; 
 Thou art ever found on the charnel ground, 
 Where the laughing and happy have rarely trod. 
 When thy branches trail to the wintry gale, 
 Thy wailing is sad to the hearts of men, 
 When the world is bright in a summer's light, 
 'Tis only the wretched that love thee then. 
 The golden moth and the shining bee 
 Will seldom rest on the willow tree. 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 31 
 
 THE ORCHARD. 
 
 ITS seeds were in the clearing sown, 
 It felt the vigorous soil; 
 Long since to massive grandeur grown, 
 
 It paid the settler's toil. 
 There blossoms by the breeze released, 
 
 Fall in a sweet May shower, 
 There autumn brings its dainty feast, 
 To grace Pomona's bower. 
 
 The earliest whispers of the spring, 
 
 Its branches linger through; 
 There ever did the bluebird bring 
 
 The sweetest notes it knew. 
 The robin seeks its lusty arms 
 
 Outstretched in kindest way; 
 The bobolink amidst its charms 
 
 Sings through the long June day. 
 
 But not to song bird all alone, 
 
 An Eden it appears ; 
 What place has childhood ever known 
 
 That memory more endears. 
 Perhaps affection's early gleam 
 
 Imparts more vivid glow 
 But there the blossoms whitest seem, 
 
 The apples fairest grow. 
 
 There boyhood climbed the topmost bough, 
 
 To pluck the finest fruit ; 
 While girlhood, flushed on cheek and brow, 
 
 Came eager in pursuit ; 
 But he, allured by witching eyes, 
 
 To her the prize has thrown — 
 Blame not, for never yet more wise 
 
 Has manhood ever grown. 
 
 In later years, when bending low 
 
 With fruit of green and gold, 
 Did not the listening branches know 
 
 The tale of love they told? 
 Did not the trees in murmuring speech 
 
 Recall some moonlight stroll, 
 Where joyful eyes flashed back to each 
 
 The lovelight of the soul ? 
 
32 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 With artist thought, fair autumn blends 
 
 The sunbeam and the dew ; 
 And to the weighted orchard lends 
 
 Fresh lustre, deeper hue ; 
 Till in the golden mist of fall, 
 
 Or sunset's richer glow, 
 No rural picture of them all 
 
 More beautiful we know. 
 
 Albany Journal. 
 
 THE FOUR SISTERS. 
 
 THERE will come a maiden soon, I ween, 
 Dressed in a cloak of palest green ; 
 The robins follow her gentle call, 
 And wild-flowers bloom where her footsteps fail 
 
 There will come another with stately tread, 
 In lilies and roses garlanded ; 
 Her breath is the essence of all things sweet, 
 And she carries a sheaf of golden wheat. 
 
 A third will come dressed in a nut-brown suit, 
 
 Her lap all filled with yellow fruit ; 
 
 Around her brow are autumn leaves, 
 
 And she makes her way 'mid vines and sheaves. 
 
 Lastly a snow-white maiden fair 
 Will come bedecked with diamonds rare; 
 She will put the others to rest complete, 
 And wrap them all in a winding-sheet. 
 
 MAY MORNING. 
 
 NOW the bright morning star, day's harbinger, 
 Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her 
 The flowery May, who from her green lap throws 
 The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. 
 
 Hail bounteous May ! that dost inspire 
 Mirth and youth, and warm desire ; 
 Woods and groves are of thy dressing, 
 Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. 
 Thus we salute thee with our early song, 
 And welcome thee and wish thee long. 
 
 Milton. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 33 
 
 OUR ALMANAC. 
 
 ROBINS in the tree-tops, 
 Blossoms in the grass ; 
 Green things a-growing 
 
 Everywhere you pass ; 
 Sudden little breezes ; 
 
 Showers of silver dew ; 
 Black bough and bent twig 
 
 Budding out anew ! 
 Pine-tree and willow-tree, 
 
 Fringed elm and larch, 
 Don't you think that May-time's 
 
 Pleasanter than March ? 
 
 Apples in the orchard, 
 
 Mellowing one by one ; 
 Strawberries upturning 
 
 Soft cheeks to the sun ; 
 Roses, faint with sweetness ; 
 
 Lilies, fair of face ; 
 Drowsy scents and murmurs 
 
 Haunting every place. 
 Lengths of golden sunshine ; 
 
 Moonlight bright as day — 
 Don't you think that Summer's 
 
 Pleasanter than May? 
 • 
 Roger in the corn-patch, 
 
 Whistling negro songs; 
 Pussy by the hearth-side, 
 
 Romping with the tongs ; 
 Chestnuts in the ashes, 
 
 Bursting through the rind; 
 Red-leaf and gold-leaf, 
 
 Rustling down the wind ; 
 Mother doing peaches 
 
 All the afternoon — 
 Don't you think that Autumn's 
 
 Pleasanter than June ? 
 
 Little fairy snow-flakes, 
 Dancing in the flue ; 
 
 Old Mr. Santa Claus, 
 
 What is keeping you ? 
 
 Twilight and firelight ; 
 
 Shadows come and go ; 
 3 
 
34 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 Merry chime of sleigh-bells, 
 
 Tinkling through the snow ; 
 Mother knitting stockings, 
 
 (Pussy has the ball !) 
 Don't you think that Winter's 
 
 Pleasanter than all ? 
 
 Thomas Bailey Aldricii. 
 
 TALKING IN THEIR SLEEP. 
 
 " \ /OU think I am dead," 
 The apple-tree said, 
 
 Y' 
 
 " Because I have never a leaf to show — 
 
 Because I stoop, 
 
 And my branches droop, 
 And the dull gray mosses over me grow ! 
 But I'm all alive in trunk and shoot ; 
 
 The buds of next May 
 
 I fold away — 
 But I pity the withered grass at my root." 
 
 "You think I am dead," 
 
 The quick grass said, 
 " Because I have started with stem and blade ! 
 
 But under the ground 
 
 I am safe and sound 
 With the snow's thick blanket over me laid. 
 I'm all alive, and ready to shoot, 
 
 Should the spring of the year 
 
 Come dancing here — 
 But I pity the flower without branch or root." 
 
 " You think I am dead," 
 A soft voice said, 
 " Because not a branch or root I own ! 
 I never have died, 
 But close I hide, 
 In a plumy seed that the wind has sown, 
 Patient I wait through the long winter hours ; 
 You will see me again — 
 I shall laugh at you then, 
 Out of the eyes of a hundred flowers." 
 
 Edith M. Thomas, in St. Nicholas. 
 
 " All the trees have torches lit." 
 
 LUCY Larcom's "Indian Summer. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MAX UAL. 
 
 35 
 
 THE POPULAR POPLAR TREE. 
 
 WHEN the great wind sets things whirling, 
 And rattles the window-panes, 
 And blows the dust in giants 
 
 And dragons tossing their manes; 
 When the willows have waves like water, 
 And children are shouting with glee ; 
 When the pines are alive and the larches, — 
 
 Then hurrah for you and me, 
 In the tip o' the top o' the top o' the tip of the popular poplar tree ! 
 
 Don't talk about Jack and the Beanstalk — 
 
 He did not climb half so high ! 
 And Alice in all her travels 
 
 Was never so near the sky! 
 Only the swallow, a-skimming 
 
 The storm-cloud over the lea, 
 Knows how it feels to be flying — » 
 
 When the gusts come strong and free — 
 In the tip o' the top o' the top o' the tip of the popular poplar tree ! 
 
 Blanch Willis Howard. 
 
 FALL SONG. 
 
 THE ash-berry clusters are darkly red ; 
 The leaves of the chestnut are almost shed ; 
 The wild grape hangs out her purple fruit ; 
 The maple puts on her brightest suit. 
 
 The boys chase the squirrel from tree to tree : 
 ' There are nuts," says the squirrel, " for you and for me 
 The boys hear the chatter — the squirrel is gone; 
 They shout and they peer, but he's seen by none. 
 
 After a silence, the wind complains, 
 Like a creature longing to burst its chains ; 
 The swallows, are gone, I saw them gather, 
 I heard them murmuring of the weather. 
 
 The clouds move fast, the south is blowing, 
 The sun is slanting, the year is going; 
 Oh, I love to walk where the leaves lie dead, 
 And hear them rustle beneath my tread ! 
 
36 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE RETURN OF MAY. 
 
 HAIL ! fair queen, adorned with flow 
 Attended by the smiling hours ! 
 Tis thine to dress the rosy bowers, 
 
 In colors gay. 
 We love to wander in thy train, 
 To meet thee on the fertile plain, 
 To bless thy soft propitious reign, 
 O lovely May ! 
 
 'Tis thine to dress the vale anew 
 In fairest verdure bright with dew ; 
 And harebells of the mildest blue 
 
 Smile on thy way. 
 Then let us welcome pleasant spring, 
 And still the flowery tribute bring, 
 And still to thee our carol sing, 
 
 ® lovely May. 
 
 Now, by the genial zephyr fanned, 
 The blossoms of the rose expand ; 
 And, reared by thee with gentle hand, 
 
 Their charms display. 
 The air is balmy and serene, 
 And all the sweet, luxuriant scene- 
 By thee is clad in tender green, 
 
 O lovely May ! 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 ROBIN AND CHICKEN. 
 
 A PLUMP little robin flew down from the tree, 
 To hunt for a worm which he happened to see. 
 A frisky young chicken came scampering by 
 And gazed at the robin with wondering eye. 
 
 Said the chicken : " What a queer-looking chicken is that: 
 Its wings are so long and its body so fat ! " 
 While the robin remarked loud enough to be heard : 
 " Dear me ! an exceedingly strange-looking bird ! " 
 
 " Can you sing? " robin asked, and the chicken said : 'No, " 
 But asked in its turn if the robin could crow. 
 So the bird sought a tree and the chicken a wall, 
 And each thought the other knew nothing at all. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 3 7 
 
 LESSON OF THE LEAVES. 
 
 HOW do the leaves grow- 
 In spring upon their stem ? 
 The sap swells up with a drop for all, 
 And that is life to them. 
 
 What do the leaves do 
 
 Through the long summer hours ? 
 Thej' make a home for the singing birds, 
 
 A shelter for the flowers. 
 
 How do the leaves fade 
 
 Beneath the autumn blast? 
 Oh, fairer they grow before they die, 
 
 Their brightest is their last. 
 
 How are we like leaves? 
 
 O children weak and small, 
 God knows each leaf of the forest shade, 
 
 He knows you each and all. 
 
 Never a leaf falls 
 
 Until its part is done. 
 God gives us grace like sap and dew, 
 
 Some work to every one. 
 
 You must grow old too, 
 
 Beneath the autumn sky; 
 But lovelier and brighter your lives may glow, 
 
 Like leaves before they die. 
 
 Brighter with kind deeds, 
 
 With hope and gladness given; 
 
 Till the leaf falls down from the withered tree, 
 And the spirit is in heaven ! 
 
 UNDER the yaller pines I house, 
 When sunshine makes them all sweet scented, 
 An hear among their furry boughs 
 
 The baskin' west wind purr contented. 
 
 Lowell, Biglow Papers. 
 
33 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE VOICE OF THE GR(AJSS. 
 
 HERE I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 By the dusty road-side, 
 On the sunny hill-side, 
 Close by the noisy brook, 
 In every shady nook, 
 I come creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 
 Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 
 All around the open door, 
 
 Where sit the aged poor, 
 
 Here where the children play 
 
 In the bright and merry May, 
 I come creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 
 Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 
 In the noisy city street, 
 
 My pleasant face you'll meet, 
 
 Cheering the sick at heart, 
 
 Toiling his busy part — 
 Silently creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 
 Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 
 You cannot see me coming, 
 
 Nor hear my low sweet humming ; 
 
 For in the starry night, 
 
 And the glad morning light, 
 I come quietly creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 
 Here I come, creeping, creeping eve^where. 
 
 More welcome than the flowers, 
 
 In summer's pleasant hours. 
 
 The gentle cow is glad, 
 
 And the merry bird not sad, 
 To see me creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 
 Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 
 When you're numbered with the dead, 
 
 In your still and narrow bed, 
 
 In the happy spring I'll come 
 
 And deck your silent home — 
 Creeping, silently creeping everywhere. 
 
 Here I come, creeping, creeping everywhere. 
 
 My humble song of praise 
 
 Most joyfully I'll raise 
 
 To Him at whose command 
 
 1 beautify the land — 
 Creeping, silently creeping everywhere. 
 
 Sarah Roberts. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 39 
 
 ROBIN 'S COME. 
 
 FROM the elm-tree's topmost bough, 
 Hark ! the robin's early song ! 
 Telling one and all that now 
 
 Merry spring-time hastes along. 
 Welcome tidings dost thou bring, 
 Little harbinger of Spring : 
 Robin 's come. 
 
 Of the Winter we are weary, 
 
 Weary of the frost and snow ; 
 
 Longing for the sunshine cheery, 
 
 And the brooklet's gurgling flow. 
 
 Gladly then we hear thee sing 
 
 The joyful reveille of Spring : 
 Robin 's come. 
 
 Ring it out o'er hill and plain, 
 
 Through the garden's lonely bowers, 
 Till the green leaves dance again, 
 
 Till the air is sweet with flowers ! 
 Wake the cowslips by the rill ; 
 Wake the yellow daffodil : 
 Robin 's come. 
 
 Singing still in yonder lane, 
 
 Robin answers merrily; 
 Ravished by the sweet refrain, 
 
 Alice clasps her hands in glee, 
 Calling from the open door, 
 With her soft voice, o'er and o'er, 
 " Robin 's come." 
 
 * * The hills, 
 
 Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun ; the vales, 
 Stretching in pensive quietness between; 
 The venerable woods ; rivers that move 
 In majesty, and the complaining brooks, 
 That make the meadows green; and poured round all, 
 Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — 
 Are but the solemn decorations all 
 Of the great tomb of man. * * 
 
 Bryant's Thanatopsis. 
 
4Q 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 FOREIGN LANDS. 
 
 UP into the cherry-tree 
 Who should climb but little me ? 
 I held the trunk with both my hands, 
 And looked abroad on foreign lands. 
 
 I saw the next-door garden lie, 
 Adorned with flowers, before my eye, 
 And man3 r pleasant places more 
 That I had never seen before. 
 
 I saw the dimpling river pass 
 And be the sky's blue looking-glass ; 
 And dusty roads go up and down, 
 And people tramping into town. 
 
 ]f I could find a higher tree, 
 Farther and farther I could see, 
 To where the grown-up river slips 
 Into the sea among the ships — 
 
 To where the roads on either hand 
 Lead onward into fairy-land, 
 Where all the children dine at five, 
 And all the playthings are alive. 
 
 GOD PROVIDETH FOR THE MORROW. 
 
 LO ! the lilies of the field, 
 How their leaves instruction yield ; 
 Hark to nature's lesson, given 
 By the blessed birds of heaven ! 
 Every bush and tufted tree 
 Warbles sweet philosophy : 
 
 "Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow; 
 God provideth for the morrow. 
 
 " Say. with richer crimson glows 
 The kingly mantle or the rose ? 
 Say, have kings more wholesome fare 
 Than we poor citizens of air? 
 Barns nor hoarded grain have we, 
 Yet we carol merrily : 
 
 Mortal, flee from doubt and sorrow; 
 
 God provideth for the morrow.' 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 41 
 
 FOREST SONG. 
 
 A SONG for the beautiful trees ! 
 A song for the forest grand, 
 The garden of God's own land, 
 The pride of His centuries. 
 Hurrah ! for the kingly oak, 
 
 For the maple, the sylvan queen, 
 For the lords of the emerald cloak, 
 
 For the beautiful trees a song, 
 The peers of a glorious realm, 
 The linden, the ash, and the elm, 
 
 The poplar stately and strong. 
 
 Hurrah ! for the beech-tree trim, 
 For the hickory stanch at core, 
 
 For the locust thorny and grim, 
 For the silvery sycamore. 
 
 A song for the palm, — the pine, 
 And for every tree that grows 
 From the desolate zone of snows 
 
 To the zone of the burning line. 
 
 Hurrah ! for the warders proud 
 Of the mountain-side and vale, 
 
 That challenge the thunder-cloud, 
 And buffet the stormy gale. 
 
 A song for the forest aisled, 
 
 With its gothic roof sublime, 
 The solemn temple of time, 
 
 Where man becometh a child, 
 
 As he lists to the anthem-roll 
 Of the wind in the solitude, 
 
 The hymn which telleth his soul 
 
 That God is the voice of the wood. 
 
 So long as the rivers flow, 
 
 So long as the mountains rise, 
 Ma)' the forest sing to the skies, 
 
 And shelter the earth below. 
 
 Hurrah ! for the beautiful trees, 
 Hurrah ! for the forest grand, 
 
 The pride of His centuries, 
 
 The garden of God's own land. 
 
 W. H. Venable. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 PLANTED. 
 
 I HELD my baby on my knee, 
 My blue-eyed Bessie, three years old; 
 She laid her dimpled cheek on mine, 
 And in my ear her trouble told. 
 
 " Papa, pease may me go to school, 
 
 Like sister Nell and Tatie Snow? " 
 Then as I smiled she begged again, 
 
 With kisses sweet, "Pease may me go? 
 
 ' When Bessie grows as large as Nell, 
 
 Then she may go to school," I said. 
 But mother's words and father's rules 
 
 Are quite enough for this small head." 
 
 She said no more, but sat awhile 
 
 "Thinking her think," then ran away; 
 
 And as I .turned to work again, 
 
 I heard her in the yard at play. 
 
 Then mother called, " Come, Bessie, come ; 
 
 'Tis time to go to sleep, you know." — 
 "O dear mamma, pease let me stay ! 
 
 I'se panted, 'tause I want to grow." 
 
 'Twas true ! for there our baby stood, 
 With feet fast planted in the ground, 
 
 While water-pot and garden tool, 
 
 Ready for use, lay scattered round. 
 
 On mother's second call she came, 
 
 With rumpled dress and muddy shoe, 
 
 And looking up quite grieved, she said, 
 " Why tan't me grow, as flowers do ? " 
 
 When April winds 
 Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush 
 Of scarlet flowers. The tulip tree, high up, 
 Opened, in airs of June, her multitude 
 Of golden chalices to humming birds 
 And silken wing'd insects of the sky. 
 
 Bryant, The Fountain. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE FLOWER OF LIBERTY. 
 
 WHAT flower is this that greets the morn, 
 Its hues from heaven so freshly born ? 
 With burning star and flaming band 
 It kindles all the sunset land : 
 O tell us what its name may be, — 
 Is this the flower of liberty ? 
 It is the banner of the free, 
 The starry flower of liberty ! 
 
 In savage nature's far abode 
 
 Its tender seeds our fathers sowed ; 
 
 The storm-winds rocked its swelling bud, 
 
 Its opening leaves were streaked with blood, 
 
 Till lo ! earth's tyrants shook to see 
 
 The full-blown flower of liberty ! 
 
 Then hail the banner of the free, 
 
 The starry flower of liberty ! 
 
 Behold its streaming rays unite, 
 One mingling flood of braided light, — 
 The red that fires the southern rose, 
 With spotless white from northern rose, 
 And, spangled o'er its azure, see 
 The sister stars of liberty ! 
 
 Then hail the banner of the free, 
 
 The starry flower of liberty ! 
 
 The blades of heroes fence it round, 
 Where'er it springs is holy ground ; 
 From tower and dome its glories spread ; 
 It waves where lonely sentries tread ; 
 It makes the land as ocean free, 
 And plants an empire on the sea ! 
 
 Then hail the banner of the free, 
 
 The starry flower of liberty ! 
 
 Thy sacred leaves, fair freedom's flower, 
 Shall ever float on dome and tower, 
 To all their heavenly colors true, 
 In blackening frost or crimson dew, — 
 And God love us as we love thee, 
 Thrice holy flower of liberty ! 
 
 Then hail the banner of the free, 
 
 The starry flower of liberty ! 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
44 
 
 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 MIDSUMMER. 
 
 THROUGH all the long midsummer day 
 The meadow-sides are sweet with hay. 
 ] seek the coolest sheltered seat 
 Just where the field and forest meet, 
 Where grow the pine-trees tall and bland, 
 The ancient oaks austere and grand, 
 And fringy roots and pebbles fret 
 The ripples of the rivulet. 
 
 I watch the mowers as they go 
 Through the tall grass, a white-sleeved row; 
 With even stroke their scythes they swing, 
 In tune their merry whetstones ring; 
 Behind, the nimble youngsters run 
 And toss the thick swaths in the sun ; 
 The cattle graze; while, warm and still, 
 Slopes the broad pasture, basks the hill, 
 And bright, when summer breezes break, 
 The green wheat crinkles like a lake. 
 
 The butterfly and humble-bee 
 Come to the pleasant woods with me , 
 Quickly before me runs the quail, 
 The chickens skulk behind the rail, 
 High up the lone wood-pigeon sits, 
 And the wood-pecker pecks and flits. 
 
 Sweet woodland music sinks and swells, 
 The brooklet rings its tinkling bells, 
 The swarming insects drone and hum, 
 The partridge beats his throbbing drum, 
 The squirrel leaps among the boughs, 
 And chatters in his leafy house, 
 The oriole flashes by ; and, look ! 
 Into the mirror of the brook, 
 Where the vain blue-bird trims his coat, 
 Two tiny feathers fall and float. 
 
 As silently, as tenderly, 
 
 The dawn of peace descends on me. 
 
 Oh, this is peace ! I have no need 
 
 Of friend to talk, of book to read: 
 
 A dear Companion here abides ; 
 
 Close to my thrilling heart He hides; 
 
 The holy silence is His voice : 
 
 I lie and listen, and rejoice. J. T. Trowbridge. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 45 
 
 THE AWAKENING YEAR. 
 
 THE bluebirds and the violets 
 Are with us once again, 
 And promises of summer spot 
 The hillside and the plain. 
 
 The clouds around the mountain tops 
 
 Are riding on the breeze, 
 Their trailing azure trains of mist 
 
 Are tangled in the trees. 
 
 The snow-drifts, which have lain so long 
 
 Haunting the hidden nooks, 
 Like guilty ghosts have slipped away 
 
 Unseen, into the brooks. 
 
 The streams are fed with generous rains, 
 
 They drink the wayside springs, 
 And flutter down from crag to crag, 
 
 Upon their foamy wings. 
 
 Through all the long, wet nights they brawl, 
 
 By mountain homes remote, 
 Till woodmen in their sleep behold 
 
 Their ample rafts afloat. 
 
 The lazy wheel that hung so dry 
 
 Above the idle stream, 
 Whirls wildly in the misty dark, 
 
 And through the miller's dream. 
 
 Loud torrent unto torrent calls, 
 
 Till at the mountain's feet, 
 Flashing afar their spectral light, 
 
 The noisy waters meet. 
 
 They meet, and through the lowlands sweep 
 
 Toward briny bay and lake, 
 
 Proclaiming to the distant towns, 
 
 "The country is awake." 
 
 Thomas Buchanan Read. 
 
 THE moon shines bright:— In such a night as this, 
 When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, 
 And they did make no noise. 
 
 Merchant of Venice, Act V, Sc. 1. 
 
46 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE VINE AND THE OAK. 
 
 A VINE was growing beside a thrifty oak, and had just reached that height 
 at which it requires support. " Oak," said the vine, " bend your trunk so 
 that you may be a support to me." 
 
 " My support," replied the oak, " is naturally yours, and you may rely on my 
 strength to bear you up ; but I am too large and too solid to bend. Put your 
 arms around me, my pretty vine, and I will manfully support and cherish you, 
 if you have an ambition to climb as high as the clouds. 
 
 "While I thus hold you up, you will ornament my rough trunk with your 
 prett}^ green leaves and shining scarlet berries. We were made by the Master 
 of Life to grow together, that by our union the weak may be made strong, and 
 the strong render aid to the weak." 
 
 "But I wish to grow independently," said the vine; "wb.3'' cannot you twine 
 around me, and let me grow up straight, and not be a mere dependent on you ? " 
 
 "Nature," answered the oak, "did not so design it. It is impossible that you 
 should grow to aii3 r height alone ; and if you try it, the winds and the rain, if 
 not your own weight, will bring you to the ground. 
 
 " Neither is it proper for } r ou to run your arms hither and thither among the 
 trees. They will say, 'It is not my vine — it is a stranger — get thee gone; I 
 will not cherish thee ! ' By this time thou wilt be so entangled among the 
 different branches that thou canst not get back to the oak, and nobody will 
 then admire thee or pity thee." 
 
 " Ah, me," said the vine, " let me escape from such a destiny; " and she twined 
 herself around the oak, and they grew and flourished happily together. 
 
 THE UNFADING EVERGREEN. 
 
 HOW bright the unfading evergreen, 
 Amid the forest trees ! 
 In Summer and Winter there 'tis seen 
 To wave to the passing breeze. 
 And may I be so like to thee, 
 
 never fading tree ! 
 
 That all may feel, in woe or weal, 
 
 1 shall unchanging be. 
 
 How bright the unfading evergreen, 
 
 Amid the forest trees ! 
 
 In Summer and Winter there 'tis seen, 
 
 To wave to the passing breeze. 
 
 Ever, ever may I be seen 
 
 Like to the beauteous evergreen. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 RACE OF THE FLOWERS. 
 
 I^HE trees and the flowers seem running a race, 
 But none treads down the other; 
 And neither thinks it his disgrace 
 To be later than his brother. 
 
 Yet the pear tree shouts to the lilac tree, 
 
 " Make haste, for the Spring is late ! 
 And the lilac tree whispers to the chestnut tree, 
 
 Because he is so great, 
 Pray you, great sir, be quick, be quick, 
 Far down below we are blossoming thick ! " 
 
 Then the chestnut hears and comes out in bloom — 
 White, or pink, to the tip-top boughs — 
 
 Oh why not grow higher, there's plenty of room, 
 You beautiful tree, with the sky for your house? 
 
 Then like music they seem to burst out together, 
 The little and the big, with a beautiful burst; 
 They sweeten the wind, they paint the weather, 
 And no one remembers which was first ; 
 White rose, red rose, 
 Bud rose, shed rose, 
 Larkspur, and lilac, and the rest, 
 North, south, east, west, 
 June, July, August, September! — 
 
 Ever so late in the year will come, 
 
 Many a red geranium, 
 
 And sunflowers up to November ! 
 
 Then the Winter has overtaken .nem all, 
 The fogs and the rains begin to fall, 
 And the flowers after running their races, 
 Are weary, and shut up their little faces, 
 And under the ground they go to sleep. 
 Is it very far down ? Yes ever so deep. 
 
 GOLDEN ROD. 
 
 WAY down in the meadow, and close by the brook- 
 If ever you take the trouble to look, 
 A plant you will see that shows in the light 
 With its green and gold so gay and bright, 
 Nodding and tossing its head in pride, 
 As if it were queen of the meadow wide. 
 That beautiful blossom, so tall and odd, 
 Is the bloom of the plant called golden rod. 
 
4 8 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE OLD TREE. 
 
 OLD tree, how low you seem to stoop, 
 How much your trunk is bent; 
 Why don't you make a rise and grow 
 Up straight, as you were meant? 
 
 And has the old tree found a voice ? 
 
 And does it speak and sigh ? 
 No ! 'twas the soft sweet wind that came 
 
 To stir its leaves on high. 
 
 But still the young boy thought he heard 
 
 The old tree sigh, " Too late ! 
 When I was young it was the time 
 
 To come and bend me straight. 
 
 They should have bound me to a prop, 
 And made me straight and fast ; 
 
 A child like you could bend me then, 
 But now my time is past ! 
 
 No use for men to waste their strength, 
 
 And pull with ropes at me ; 
 They could not move my stem an inch, 
 
 For bent I still must be." 
 
 And then the soft wind came once more, 
 
 And set the leaves at play, 
 So that the young boy thought he heard 
 
 The old tree sigh and say: 
 
 O child ! be wise while you are young, 
 
 Nor bend nor stoop to sin ! 
 Drive out the bad thoughts from your heart, 
 
 And keep the good ones in ! 
 
 1 Don't think you may be bad in youth, 
 And one day change your plan ; 
 
 Just what you grow up from a child, 
 You will be as a man. 
 
 1 No use to try, when you are old, 
 
 To mend and grow up straight ; 
 For all good men that pass you then 
 Will sigh and say, 'Too late ! ' 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 49 
 
 Take for your prop the book of God, 
 
 And by its rules be bound; 
 And let the wise words of your friends 
 
 Be stakes to fence you round. 
 
 So straight and strong you shall be found, 
 
 A joy and praise to see ; 
 And one day, in the courts of God, 
 
 You'll stand a fair young tree." 
 
 MY ELM TREE. 
 
 IT stands alone, on the brow of a little hill, not far from my door. The sight 
 of it gives me so much pleasure, that I have learned to love it as if it were 
 a human friend. I go often to visit it. 
 
 It is a magnificent tree. The trunk rises high in a single stem, then divides 
 into three principal branches. These three great branches grow gradually 
 farther and farther apart, then bend rapidly outward with an easy sweep, and 
 finally divide into a number of smaller branches. 
 
 Of these smaller branches, the lower or under ones bend down toward the 
 ground in graceful curves, and, dividing into many branchlets and twigs, form the 
 drooping boughs of the tree. The upper ones grow erect, and their branchlets 
 and twigs, spreading out and bending in all directions, make the airy top of the tree. 
 
 In the summer-time this lovely tree is covered with dark green leaves. It rests 
 the eye to look at it, and it is a delight to sit under it. But it is not in summer 
 only that it is beautiful. In the autumn its leaves turn to a sober brown, 
 touched here and there with bright golden-yellow; and, when the sun shines 
 on it, it is glorious to behold. 
 
 When the rude autumn winds have stripped it of its leaves it is still pleasant 
 to watch the graceful branches swaying in the wind; and then, too, I can see 
 the birds' nests, which the leaves have hidden during the summer. Almost 
 always there are one or two orioles' nests, swinging like little bags from the 
 ends of the long slender branches. 
 
 The earliest spring flowers blossom under my elm tree. But the dear old 
 tree is not to be outdone by the little plants at its foot, for it puts forth its 
 blossoms as soon as they. Its flowers always come before its leaves. They 
 are very tiny flowers, of a yellowish hue, and grow in small clusters on the 
 sides of the twigs. 
 
 The flowers are soon followed by the seeds, which ripen and fall just as the 
 leaves come out. The leaves are rather small and dark green, and grow on 
 short stems called foot-stalks. They are, almost all of them, oval in shape, and 
 have a slender point at the apex. The under side of the leaf is whitish and 
 hairy, and the ribs show very plainly. 
 
 All elm trees are not shaped just as mine is; but any boy or girl can always 
 tell an elm tree by its graceful, curving branches, and slender drooping twigs. 
 
 Rebecca D. Rickoff. 
 4 
 
5Q 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. 
 
 JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT 
 Preaches to-day, 
 Under the green trees 
 Just over the way. 
 Squirrel and song-sparrow, 
 
 High on their perch, 
 Hear the sweet lily-bells 
 Ringing to church. 
 
 Come, hear what his reverence, 
 
 Rises to say, 
 In his low, painted pulpit, 
 
 This calm Sabbath day. 
 Fair is the canopy 
 
 Over him seen, 
 Penciled, by nature's hand, 
 
 Black, brown and green ; 
 Green is his surplice, . 
 
 Green are his bands ; 
 In his queer little pulpit 
 
 The little priest stands. 
 
 In black and gold velvet, 
 
 So gorgeous to see, 
 Comes with his bass voice, 
 
 The chorister bee. 
 Green fingers playing 
 
 Unseen on wind-lyres; 
 Low, singing-bird voices; 
 
 These are his choirs. 
 
 The violets are deacons ; 
 
 I know by the sign 
 That the cups which they carry 
 
 Are purple with wine. 
 And the columbines bravely 
 
 As sentinels stand 
 On the lookout, with all their 
 
 Red trumpets in hand. 
 
 Meek-faced anemones, 
 
 Drooping and sad ; 
 Great yellow violets, 
 
 Smiling out glad ; 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 5 1 
 
 Buttercups' faces, 
 
 Beaming and bright; 
 Clovers, with bonnets — 
 
 Some red and some white ; 
 Daisies, their white fingers 
 
 Half clasped in prayer; 
 Dandelions, proud of 
 
 The gold of their hair; 
 
 Innocents, children 
 
 Guileless and frail, 
 Meek little faces 
 
 Upturned and pale; 
 Wild-wood geraniums, 
 
 All in their best, 
 Languidly leaning 
 
 In purple gauze dressed ; 
 All are assembled, 
 
 This sweet Sabbath day, 
 To hear what the priest 
 
 In his pulpit will say. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 THE GOLDEN ROD. 
 
 ALL hail the lovely golden rod, 
 The dusty roadside fringing ! 
 Midst grasses tall its gray crests nod, 
 The world with glory tingeing. 
 
 Its fluffy blossoms manifold, 
 
 The swampy meadows flecking, 
 Weave tapestry of cloth of gold, 
 
 The fields with splendor decking. 
 
 Along the dark old forest's edge 
 
 The yellow plumes are streaming, 
 And through the thick and tangled hedge, 
 
 The golden wands are gleaming. 
 
 The lakeside slope is all aglow, 
 
 Where golden rod is drooping, 
 Bright mirrored in the depths below 
 
 In many a graceful grouping. 
 
 Eva J. Beede. 
 
52 
 
 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 THE ANXIOUS LEAF. 
 
 ONCE upon a time a little leaf was heard to sigh and cry ( as leaves often do 
 when a gentle wind is about. And the twig said, "What is the matter, 
 little leaf?" 
 
 And the leaf said, "The wind just told me that one day it would pull me off 
 and throw me down to die on the ground ! " 
 
 The twig told it to the branch on which it grew, and the branch told it to the 
 tree. And when the tree heard it, it rustled all over, and sent back word to 
 the leaf, " Do not be afraid ; hold on tightly, and you shall not go till you want to." 
 
 And so the leaf stopped sighing, but went on nestling and singing. Every 
 time the tree shook itself and stirred up all its leaves, the branches shook 
 themselves, and the little twig shook itself, and the little leaf danced up and 
 down merrily, as if nothing could ever pull it off. And so it grew all summer 
 long till October. 
 
 And when the bright days of autumn came, the little leaf saw all the leaves 
 around becoming very beautiful. Some were yellow and some scarlet, and some 
 striped with both colors. Then it asked the tree what it meant? And the tree 
 said, "All these leaves are getting ready to flyaway, and they have put on these 
 beautiful colors because of joy." 
 
 Then the little leaf began to want to go too, and grew very beautiful in think- 
 ing of it, and when it was very gay in color, it saw that the branches of the 
 tree had no bright color in them, and so the leaf said, "O branches ! why are 
 you lead color and we golden ? " 
 
 "We must keep on our work clothes, for our life is not done; but your 
 clothes are for holiday, because j^our tasks are over," said the branches. 
 
 Just then, a little puff of wind came, and the leaf let go, without thinking of 
 it, and the wind took it up, and turned it over and over, and whirled it like a 
 spark of fire in the air, and then it dropped gently down under the edge of the 
 fence among hundreds of leaves, and fell into a dream, and never waked up to 
 tell what it dreamed about. 
 
 "Nature never did betray 
 The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, 
 Through all the years of this our life, to lead 
 From joy to joy ; for she can so inform 
 The mind that is within us, so impress 
 With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
 With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
 Rash judgments, nor sneers of selfish men, 
 Nor greetings where no kindness is ; nor all 
 The dreary intercourse of daily life, 
 Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
 Our cheerful faith that all which we behold 
 Is full of blessing." . 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 53 
 
 MAY MORNING. 
 
 FOR SIX GIRLS. 
 
 GREETED me at early day, 
 Groups of girls the fields adorning 
 Wreathing for their queen of May, 
 Blossoms of the morning. 
 
 Cease, I cried, o'er hill and heath, 
 
 Wasting thus the fragrant hours; 
 
 I can make a fairer wreath — 
 You shall be the flowers. 
 
 Who will be a violet? — 
 
 Little Alice, take thy station; 
 
 Lo ! thine eyes are dewy yet 
 
 With some thought's creation. 
 
 Dainty words and bashful smiles 
 
 Wreathe thy fresh lips ever newly; 
 
 Conquering with thy timid wiles, 
 Harsher souls unruly. 
 
 Margaret, with pure cold eyes, 
 Thou shalt be a scornful lily 
 
 Bending in a proud surprise ; 
 Smiling proud and chilly. 
 
 Loose adown thy snowy veil, 
 
 Till those eyes, like stars of even, 
 
 Through the silver cloud burn pale, 
 Lighting still the heaven. 
 
 Now a rose ! Now a rose ! 
 
 Look at Julia, richly blushing, 
 Where the sun his kisses throws, 
 
 Hair and forehead flushing. 
 
 Floating o'er the crimson cheek, 
 Mossy ringlets fall disparted ; 
 
 Darling rose, so mild, so meek, 
 True and fragrant-hearted. 
 
 Where shall we a daisy see? — 
 
 Yonder sits my romping Lizzie, 
 
 With her hand upon her knee, 
 In some mischief busy. 
 
54 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 She has morning's golden beam 
 
 Prisoned in her flying tresses; 
 And the evening's rosy gleam 
 
 Still her cheek expresses. 
 
 Now the dimpled arms aloft, 
 
 Shouting to the birds above her; 
 Chanting now in carols soft, 
 
 Of the hearts that love her. 
 
 Geraldine, with lips of flame, 
 
 Thou shalt be a fuchsia, bending 
 Graceful near the ivy frame ; 
 
 Strength and frailness blending. 
 
 Autumn dropped thee from his sheaves, 
 
 Through his harvest lately roaming: 
 Spring returns for what he leaves ; — 
 
 Bow we to her coming. 
 
 Eliza L. Sproat. 
 
 ROSES. 
 
 OH, the queen of all the roses it cannot be denied 
 Is the heavy crimson rose of velvet leaf ; 
 There is such a gracious loyalty about her vivid bloom, 
 That among all charming kindred she is chief. 
 
 Then the fainter-shaded roses, in their balmy damask pride, 
 
 Group like satellites about one central star, — 
 Royal princesses, of whom we can discover at a glance, 
 
 What aristocrats the dainty creatures are. 
 
 Then those tender, gauzy roses, clustered closely on their views, 
 
 They are gentle maids of honor I am told ; 
 But the pompous yellow roses, they are sneered at, it is said, 
 
 For so showing off the color of their gold. 
 
 And the roses that are powerless to boast of any tint, 
 
 Unsullied as the snow itself in hue, 
 These are pious nuns, I fancy, who perhaps may murmur prayers 
 
 Very softly upon rosaries of dew. 
 
 But the delicate pink roses that one meets in quiet lanes, 
 Gleaming pale upon a back-ground of clear green, 
 
 Why, these are only peasant girls who never go to court, 
 But are royal little subjects to the queen. 
 
 Edgar Fawcett. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 55 
 
 FORWARD, MARCH! 
 
 SPRING gives the order, " Forward, march ! 
 Tis borne along the eager line; 
 Breathes through the boughs of rustling larch, 
 And murmurs in the pine. 
 
 " March ! " At the sound, impatient, springs 
 The mountain rill, with rippling glee, 
 And rolling through the valley, brings 
 Its tribute to the sea. 
 
 " March ! " and upon each sunny hill 
 Old winter's allies, ice and snow, 
 Start at the music of the rill, 
 And join its onward flow. 
 
 " March ! " Down among the fibrous roots 
 Of oaks we hear the summons ring ; 
 The long chilled life-blood upward shoots 
 To hail the coming spring. 
 
 " March ! " and along each narrow neck, 
 Across the plain, and up the steep, 
 The spring-tide clears the winter's wreck 
 With its resistless sweep. 
 
 Advancing in unbroken lines, 
 
 New allies rush to join its band, 
 
 Till winter, in despair, resigns 
 The scepter to its hands. 
 
 On southern slopes, in quiet glades, 
 
 And when the brooklets murmuring run; 
 
 The grass unsheaths its tiny blades 
 To temper in the sun. 
 
 Flora unfolds her banner bright 
 
 Above the field of flashing green, 
 
 And crocus blooms, in lines of light, 
 Throw back the sunlight's sheen. 
 
 The birds in every budding tree 
 
 Take up anew the old refrain ; 
 The spring has come ; rejoice all ye 
 
 Who breathe its air again ! 
 
56 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE OAK TREE. 
 
 OING for the oak tree, the monarch of the wood ! 
 O Sing for the oak tree, that groweth green and good ! 
 That groweth broad and branching within the forest shade; 
 That groweth now, and still shall grow when we are lowly laid ! 
 
 The oak tree was an acorn once, and fell upon the earth ; 
 And sun and shower nourished it, and gave the oak tree birth ; 
 The little sprouting oak tree ! two leaves it had at first, 
 Till sun and shower nourished it, then out the branches burst. 
 
 The winds came and the rain fell ; the gusty tempest blew; 
 All, all, were friends to the oak tree, and stronger yet it grew. 
 The boy that saw the acorn fall, he feeble grew and gray ; 
 But the oak was still a thriving tree, and strengthened every day. 
 
 Four centuries grows the oak tree, nor does its verdure fail; 
 Its heart is like the iron-wood, its bark like plaited mail. 
 Now cut us down the oak tree, the monarch of the wood ; 
 And of its timber stout and strong we'll build a vessel good. 
 
 i 
 The oak tree of the forest both east and west shall fly; 
 
 And the blessings of a thousand lands upon our ship shall lie. 
 
 She shall not be a man-of-war, nor a pirate shall she be; 
 
 But a noble Christian merchant ship, to sail upon the sea. 
 
 Mary Howitt. 
 
 THE LIBERTY TREE. 
 
 IN a chariot of light, from the regions of day, 
 The Goddess of Liberty came; 
 Ten thousand celestials directed her way, 
 
 And hither conducted the dame. 
 A fair budding branch from the gardens above, 
 
 Where millions with millions agree; 
 She brought in her hand as a pledge of her love, 
 And the plant she named Liberty Tree. 
 
 The celestial exotic struck deep in the ground, 
 
 Like a native it flourished and bore ; 
 The fame of its fruit drew the nations around, 
 
 To seek out this peaceable shore ; 
 Unmindful of names or distinctions they came, 
 
 For freemen like brothers agree ; 
 
 With one spirit endued, they our friendship pursued, 
 
 And their temple was Liberty Tree. 
 
 Thomas Paine, 1776. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 5 7 
 
 MOTION SONG— DAISY FAIR. 
 
 HAVE you heard the song of the daisy fair? 
 Oh, the daisy fair, she has not a care ; 
 A sweet little face has daisy fair, 
 
 She's smiling all the day. 
 Now see her buds peep, where the grasses wave, 
 Where the grasses wave, the grasses wave, 
 Now see her buds peep, where the grasses wave, 
 This way above her head. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Oh, the heads of nodding clover, 
 Oh, the boughs that sway above her, 
 Oh, the butterflies dancing over, 
 Love the daisy fair. 
 
 Now her bright eyes open to the sun ; 
 Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, what fun ! 
 Now daisy's play time has begun ; 
 
 Gay little daisy fair. 
 Our daisy always moves with grace 
 While she bends this way, this way, this way. 
 She looks the bright sun in the face ; 
 
 Brave little daisy fair. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 At morn she turns her head this way, 
 For she loves the sun, the sun, they say, 
 And watches for its first bright ray ; 
 
 Wise little daisy fair. 
 At noon she smiles up at the sky, 
 Tra la la la la la la la la, 
 While the sun smiles back from his place so high; 
 
 Happy daisy fair. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 When the earth is dry beneath her feet, 
 Lowty droops her head in the blinding heat. 
 She clasps her fingers, hear how sweet 
 
 Daisy breathes a prayer. 
 Come, pretty white cloud, pray send the rain, 
 Send rain, the rain, the rain, the rain, 
 O pretty white cloud, I pray send rain 
 
 That I may bloom again. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
58 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Now the cooling drops come, sparkling down, 
 Tra la la la la la la la la la, 
 Now daisy has a bran new crown, 
 Proud little daisy fair. 
 At night when the dear sun goes to sleep, 
 And all the dews around her weep, 
 She turns this way, for one more peep. 
 Good night, little daisy fair. 
 Chorus. 
 Gyjnnastics for the School Room. ANNIE CHASE. 
 
 THE IVY GREEN. 
 
 H, a dainty plant is the ivy green, 
 That creepeth o'er ruins old ! 
 
 
 1 . 
 
 Of right choice food are his meals I ween, 
 
 In his cell so lone and cold. 
 The walls must be crumbled, the stones decayed, 
 
 To pleasure his dainty whim ; 
 And the mold'ring dust that years have made 
 Is a merry meal for him. 
 
 Creeping where no life is seen, 
 A rare old plant is the ivy green. 
 
 Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings, 
 
 And a stanch old heart has he ! 
 How closely he twineth, how tightly he clings, 
 
 To his friend, the huge oak tree ! 
 And slyly he traileth along the ground, 
 
 And his leaves he gently waves, 
 And he joyously twines and hugs around 
 
 The rich mold of dead men's graves. 
 Creeping where no life is seen, 
 A rare old plant is the ivy green. 
 
 Whole ages have fled, and their works decayed, 
 
 And nations scattered been ; 
 But the stout old ivy shall never fade 
 
 From its hale and hearty green. 
 The brave old plant in its lonely days 
 
 Shall fatten upon the past; 
 For the stateliest building man can raise 
 
 Is the ivy's food at last. 
 
 Creeping where no life is seen, 
 
 A rare old plant is the ivy green. 
 
 Charles Dickens. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 59 
 
 THE AUTUMN LEAVES. 
 
 First Child : 
 
 I AM a leaf from the tall elm tree 
 That stands high up on the hill «top there; 
 Patiently my watch I keep 
 
 O'er all the hillsides and valleys fair. 
 
 Second Child: 
 
 I came from the maple tree 
 
 By the church with its huge iron bell. 
 Many a time I've heard it say 
 
 "A tale of hope and peace I'll tell." 
 
 Third Child: 
 
 1 am a leaf from the old oak tree 
 Deep in the woods; I know 
 AH the secrets of fairy land, 
 And how the flowers grow. 
 
 Fourth Child : 
 
 And I am a leaf from the aspen, 
 
 Do you know why I tremble so ? 
 I heard a child tell a lie one day, 
 'Tis an awful thing to know. 
 
 Fifth Child ; 
 
 Down where the dead lie sleeping, 
 
 In a calm and quiet spot, 
 I came from the willow, weeping, 
 O'er the blue forget-me-not. 
 
 Sixth Child : 
 
 I grew on the big old apple tree, 
 
 Where the blue birds and robins nest, 
 The children love me, and the breeze — 
 O, you can guess the rest. 
 
 Seventh Child : 
 
 And now we will make a wreath, 
 
 Red and yellow and green ; 
 When you see you will all agree 
 
 'Tis the prettiest wreath that ever was seen. 
 
 All join hands and sing: 
 
 Away to the woods, away, 
 Away to the woods, away, 
 
6o 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 All nature is smiling, 
 
 Our young hearts beguiling, 
 
 0, we will be happy to-day. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Away, away, away, away, 
 Away to the woods, away; 
 Away, away, away, away. 
 Away to the woods, away. 
 
 THE BROWN THRUSH. 
 
 THERE'S a merry brown thrush sitting up in a tree ; 
 He's singing to me ! he's singing to me ! 
 And what does he say, little girl, little boy? 
 '• Oh ! the world's running over with joy ! 
 Hush ! look ! in my tree 
 I'm as happy as happy can be." 
 
 And the brown thrush keeps singing, "A nest do you see, 
 And five eggs hid by me in the big cherry tree ? 
 Don't meddle, don't touch, little girl, little boy, 
 Or the world will lose some of its joy ! 
 
 Now I'm glad ! now I'm free ! 
 
 And I always shall be, 
 
 If you never bring sorrow to me." 
 
 So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, 
 To you and to me — to you, and to me; 
 And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy ; 
 " Oh, the world's running over with joy ! 
 
 But long it won't be — 
 
 Don't you know ? don't you see ? 
 
 Unless we're as good as can be." 
 
 Lucy Larcom. 
 
 I had a little yellow bird 
 
 Upon a summer's day, 
 He sat upon my finger 
 
 And he never flew away. 
 He fluttered and he fluttered 
 
 And he fluttered all the day, 
 But he never sang a song, 
 
 And he never flew away. 
 
 St. Nicholas, 1888. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 61 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 SPRING, with that nameless pathos in the air 
 Which dwells with all things fair, — ■ 
 Spring, with her golden suns and silver rain, 
 Is with us once again. 
 
 Out in the lonely woods the jasmine burns 
 Its fragrant lamps, and turns 
 Into a royal court with green festoons 
 The banks of dark lagoons. 
 
 In the deep heart of every forest tree 
 The blood is all aglee, 
 
 And there's a look about the leafless bowers 
 As if they dreamed of flowers. 
 
 Yet still on every side we trace the hand 
 Of winter in the land, 
 
 Save where the maple reddens on the lawn, 
 Flushed by the season's dawn. 
 
 Or where, like those strange semblances we find 
 
 That age to childhood bind, 
 
 The elm puts on, as if in nature's scorn, 
 
 The brown of autumn corn. 
 
 As yet the turf is dark, although you know 
 That, not a span below, 
 
 A thousand germs are groping through the gloom, 
 And soon will burst their tomb. # 
 
 Already, here and there, on frailest stems 
 Appear some azure gems, 
 Small as might deck, upon a gala day, 
 The forehead of a fay. 
 
 In gardens you may note amid the dearth 
 The crocus breaking earth ; 
 
 And near the snowdrop's tender white and green, 
 The violet in its screen. 
 
 But many gleams and shadows needs must pass 
 Along the budding grass, 
 
 And weeks go by, before the enamored south 
 Shall kiss the rose's mouth. 
 
62 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Still there's a sense of blossoms yet unborn 
 In the sweet airs of morn ; 
 One almost looks to see the very street 
 Grow purple at his feet. 
 
 At times a fragrant breeze comes floating by, 
 And brings, you know not why, 
 A feeling as when eager crowds await, 
 Before a palace gate. 
 
 Some wondrous pageant ; and you scarce would start, 
 
 If from a beech's heart 
 
 A blue-eyed dryad, stepping forth, should say, 
 
 1 Behold me ! I am May ! " 
 
 ****** 
 
 Henry Timrod. 
 
 B 
 
 BEAUTIFUL THINGS. 
 
 EAUTIFUL ground on which we tread, 
 Beautiful heavens above our head ; 
 
 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 Beautifu 
 
 flowers and beautiful trees, 
 land and beautiful seas. 
 
 sun that shines so bright, 
 stars with glittering light; 
 summer, beautiful spring, 
 birds that merrily sing. 
 
 lambs that frisk and play, 
 night and beautiful day ; 
 lily, beautiful rose, 
 every flower that grows. 
 
 drops of pearly dew, 
 hills and vales to view ; 
 herbs that scent the air, 
 things grow everywhere. 
 
 every thing around, 
 grass to deck the ground, 
 fields and woods so green, 
 birds and blossoms seen. 
 
 flower and beautiful leaf, 
 world, though full of grief ; 
 every tiny blade, 
 all that God hath made. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 63 
 
 THE USE OF FLOWERS. 
 
 GOD might have bade the earth bring forth 
 Enough for great and small, 
 The oak tree and the cedar tree, 
 Without a flower at all. 
 
 He might have made enough, enough, 
 
 For every want of ours ; 
 For luxury, medicine and toil 
 
 And yet have made no flowers. 
 
 The ore within the mountain mine, 
 
 Requireth none to grow, 
 Nor doth it need the lotus flower 
 
 To make the river flow. 
 
 The clouds might give abundant rain, 
 
 The nightly dews might fall, 
 And the herb that keepeth life in man 
 
 Might yet have drunk them all. 
 
 Then wherefore, wherefore were they made, 
 
 All dyed with rainbow light; 
 All fashioned with supremest grace, 
 
 Upspringing day and night. 
 
 Springing in valleys green and low, 
 
 And on the mountains high, 
 And in the silent wilderness, 
 
 Where no man passes by ? 
 
 Our outward life requires them not — 
 Then wherefore had they birth ? 
 
 To minister delight to man 
 To beautify the earth. 
 
 To comfort man — to whisper hope, 
 
 Whene'er his faith is dim ; 
 For who so careth for the flowers, 
 
 Will much more care for him ! 
 
 Mary Howitt. 
 
 Those green-robed senators of mighty woods, 
 Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars, 
 Dream and so dream all night without a stir. 
 
 Keats — Hyperion. Bk. I, line 73. 
 
6 4 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 GREEN THINGS GROWING. 
 
 concert recitation for a class of boys or girls, or both. 
 All : 
 
 
 
 H ! the green things growing ! the green things growing ! 
 
 The fresh, sweet smell of the green things growing ! 
 Frank : 
 
 I would like to live, whether I laugh or grieve, 
 
 To watch the happy life of the green things growing. 
 
 All: 
 
 Oh ! the fluttering and pattering of the green things growing ! 
 
 Talking each to each when no man's knowing; 
 Charles : 
 
 In the wonderful white of the weird moonlight, 
 
 Or the gray dreamy dawn when the cocks are crowing. 
 
 Martha : 
 
 I love, I love them so, the green things growing 
 And I think that they love me without false showing ; 
 For by many a tender touch they comfort me so much, 
 With the mute, mute comfort of green things growing. 
 
 Mabel : 
 
 And in the full wealth of their blossoms' glowing. 
 
 Ten for one I take they're on me bestowing. 
 Emily : 
 
 Ah ! I should like to see, if God's will it might be, 
 
 Many, many a summer of my green things growing. 
 
 Ada : 
 
 But if I must be gathered for the angels' sowing — 
 Sleep out of sight awhile — like the green things growing; 
 Though earth to earth return, I think I shall not mourn, 
 If I may change into green things growing. 
 
 All: 
 
 Oh ! the green things growing: the green things growing ! 
 
 The fresh, sweet smell of the green things growing! 
 
 1 would like to live, whether I laugh or grieve, 
 
 To watch the happy life of the green things growing. 
 
 Arranged by Principal Chas. H. Fuller, 
 
 Cold Spring Harbor, N. Y. 
 
 
 " There is a pleasure in the pathless woods." 
 
 Byron's "Apostrophe to the Ocean." 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 65 
 
 THE STORY OF A LEAF. 
 
 I AM only a leaf. My home is one of the great trees that grow near the 
 school-house. All winter I was wrapped up in a tiny warm blanket, tucked 
 in a little brown cradle, and rocked by the winds as they blew. Do you not 
 believe it, little reader? What I say is true. 
 
 Next fall just break off a branch of a tree, and see whether you cannot find q 
 leaf-bud on it. It will look like a little brown knot. 
 
 Break it open, and inside you will see some soft, white down; that is the 
 blanket. The brown shell that you break is the cradle. 
 
 Well, as I was telling you, I was rocked all winter in my cradle on the branch. 
 When the warm days came, and the soft rains fell, then I grew very fast indeed. 
 I soon pushed myself out of my cradle, dropped my blanket, and showed my 
 pretty green dress to all who came by. 
 
 Oh, how glad every one was to see me ! And here I am, so happy with my 
 little brothers and sisters about me ! Every morning the birds come and sing 
 to us ; the great sun shines upon us, and the winds fan us. 
 
 We dance with the winds, we smile back at the bright sun, and make a 
 pleasant shade for the dear birds. Every day, happy, laughing school children 
 pass under our tree. 
 
 We are always glad to see you, boys and girls — glad to see" your bright eyes, 
 and hear you say, " How beautiful the leaves are ! " 
 
 Rebecca D. Rickoff. 
 
 IN A FOREST. 
 
 STRANGER ! whose steps have reached this solitude, 
 Know that this lonely spot was dear to one 
 Devoted with no unrequited zeal 
 To nature. Here, delighted, he has heard 
 The rustling of these woods, that now perchance 
 Melodious to the gale of summer move ; 
 And underneath their shade on yon smooth rock, 
 With gray and yellow lichens overgrown, 
 Often reclined, watching the silent flow 
 Of this perspicuous rivulet, that steals 
 Along its verdant course, — till all around 
 Had filled his senses with tranquillity, 
 And ever soothed in spirit he returned 
 A happier, better man. Stranger ! perchance, 
 Therefore, the stream more lovely to thine eye 
 Will glide along, and to the summer gale 
 The woods wave more melodious. Cleanse thou, then, 
 The weeds and mosses from this lettered stone. 
 
 Robert Southey, 1798. 
 
66 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY. 
 
 POOR little daffy-down-dilly ! 
 She slept with her head on a rose, 
 When a sly moth-miller kissed her, 
 And left some dust on her nose. 
 
 Poor little daffy-down-dilly ! 
 
 She woke when the clock struck ten, 
 And hurried away to the fairy queen's ball, 
 
 Down in the shadowy gien. 
 
 Poor little daffy-down-dilly ! 
 
 Right dainty was she, and fair, 
 In her bodice of yellow satin, 
 
 And petticoat green and rare. 
 
 But to look in her dew-drop mirror, 
 She quite forgot when she rose, 
 
 And into the queen's high presence 
 Tripped with a spot on her nose. 
 
 Then the little knight who loved her — 
 O, he wished that he were dead ; 
 
 And the queen's maid began to titter, 
 And tossed her saucy head. 
 
 And up from her throne so stately, 
 The wee queen rose in her power, 
 
 Just waved her light wand o'er her, 
 And she changed into a flower. 
 
 Poor little daffy-down-dilly ! 
 
 Now in silver spring time hours, 
 She wakes in the sunny meadows, 
 
 And lives with other flowers. 
 
 Her beautiful yellow bodice, 
 
 With green skirts wears she still ; 
 
 And the children seek and love her, 
 But thev call her daffodil. 
 
 
 To him who in the love of nature holds 
 Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
 A various language." 
 
 Bryant's Thanatopsis. 
 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 67 
 
 THE LITTLE BROWN SEED IN THE FURROW. 
 
 A LITTLE brown seed in the furrow 
 Lay still in its gloomy bed, 
 While violets blue and lilies white 
 
 Were whispering overhead. 
 They whispered of glories strange and rare, 
 Of glittering dew and floating air, 
 Of beauty and rapture everywhere, 
 And the seed heard all they said. 
 
 Poor little brown seed in the furrow; 
 
 So close to the lilies' feet, 
 So far away from the great glad day, 
 
 Where life seemed all complete ! 
 In her heart she treasured every word, 
 And she longed for the blessings of which she heard; 
 For the light that shone and the air that stirred 
 
 In that lanti so wondrous sweet. 
 
 1 
 
 The little brown seed in the furrow 
 
 Was thrilled with a strange unrest; 
 A warm, new life beat tremblingly 
 
 In the tiny, heaving breast; 
 With her two small hands clasped close in prayer, 
 She lifted them up in the darkness there, 
 Up, up, through the dark, toward sun and air, 
 
 Her folded hands she pushed. 
 
 O, little brown seed in the furrow, 
 
 At last you have pierced the mold ; 
 And quivering with a life intense, 
 
 Your beautiful leaves unfold 
 Like wings outspread for upward flight; 
 And slowly, slowly, in dew and light 
 A sweet bud opens — till, in God's sight, 
 
 You wear a crown of gold. 
 
 Ida W. Benham. 
 
 Welcome, ye shades ! ye bowery thickets hail ! 
 Ye lofty Pines ! ye venerable Oaks ! 
 Ye Ashes wild ! resounding o'er the steep ! 
 Delicious is your shelter to the soul. 
 
 THOMSON, The Seasons. 
 
68 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 TREES. 
 
 First Pupil: for a class exercise. 
 
 FOREST trees have always "haunted me like a passion." Let us summon a 
 few of them, prime favorites, and familiar to the American forest. 
 
 Second Pupil : 
 
 First the Aspen, what soft silver-gray tints on its leaves, how smooth its mot- 
 tled bark, its whole shape how delicate and sensitive ! 
 
 Third Pupil: 
 
 Next the Elm, how noble the lift and droop of its branches; it has the shape 
 of the Greek vase, such lavish foliage, running down the trunk to the very 
 roots, as if a rich vine were wreathed around it ! 
 
 Fourth Pupil: 
 
 Then the Maple, what a splendid cupola of leaves it builds up into the sky, 
 and in autumn, its crimson is so rich, one might term it the blush of the woods ! 
 
 Fifth Pupil : 
 
 And the Beech, how cheerful its snow-spotted trunk looks in the deep woods \ 
 The pattering of the beechnut upon the dead leaves in the hazy days of our 
 Indian summer, makes a music like the dripping of a fill, in the mournful 
 forest. 
 
 Sixth Pupil: 
 
 The Birch is a great favorite of mine. How like a shaft of ivory it gleams in 
 the daylight woods ! How the flame of moonlight kindles it into columned 
 pearl ! 
 
 Seventh Pupil : 
 
 Now the Oak, what a tree it is. First a tiny needle rising grandly toward 
 the sun, a wreath of green to endure for ages. The child gathers the violet at 
 its foot; as a boy he pockets its acorns; as a man he looks at its heights tower- 
 ing up and makes it the emblem of his ambition. 
 
 Eighth Pupil: 
 
 We now come to the Pine, of all, my greatest favorite. The oak maybe king 
 of the lowlands, but the pine is king of the hills. There he lifts his haughty 
 front like the warrior he is, and when he is roused to meet the onslaught of the 
 storm, the battle-cry he sends down the wind is heard above all the voices of 
 the greenwood. 
 
 Ninth Pupil : 
 
 We will merely touch, in passing, upon the Hemlock, with its masses of ever- 
 green needles, and the Cedar with its misty blueberries; and the Sumac with its 
 clusters of crimson, and the Witch-hazel, smiling at winter, with its curled, 
 sharp cut flowers of golden velvet. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 6q 
 
 Tenth Pupil: 
 
 Did you ever, while wandering in the forest about the first of June, have your 
 eyes dazzled at a distance with what you supposed to be a tree ladened with 
 snow? It was the Dog-wood, glittering in its white blossoms. It brightens the 
 last days of spring with its floral beauty. 
 
 Eleventh Pupil : 
 
 While admiring the dog-wood, an odor of exquisite sweetness may salute 
 you; and, if at all conversant in tree knowledge, you will know it is the Bass- 
 wood, clustered with yellow blossoms, golden bells pouring out such strong, 
 delicious fragrance, you must all realize the idea of Shelley. 
 
 All 
 
 And the hyacinths, purple and white and blue, 
 Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew, 
 Of music so delicate, soft and intense, 
 It was felt like an odor within the sense. 
 
 LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 THE breaking waves dashed high 
 On a stern and rock-bound coast, 
 And the woods against a stormy sky 
 Their giant branches tossed. 
 ***** 
 
 Not as the conqueror comes, 
 
 They, the true-hearted came, 
 Not with the roll of stirring drums, 
 
 And the trumpet that sings of fame, 
 
 Not as the flying come, 
 
 In silence and in fear ; 
 They shook the depths of the desert's gloom 
 
 With their hymns of lofty cheer. 
 
 Amidst the storms they sang ; 
 
 And the stars heard, and the sea ; 
 And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang 
 
 To the anthem of the free. 
 
 The ocean eagle soared 
 
 From his nest by the white wave's foam ; 
 And the rocking pines of the forest roared ; 
 
 This was their welcome home ! 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
yc ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 
 QUOTATIONS. 
 
 for a class exercise. 
 First Pupil: 
 
 IF ever I see 
 On bush or tree 
 Young birds in their pretty nest, 
 I must not in play 
 Steal the birds away, 
 To grieve their mother's breast. 
 
 Second Pupil: 
 
 Apples in the orchard, 
 Mellowing one by one, 
 Strawberries upturning 
 Soft cheeks to the sun ; 
 Roses faint with sweetness, 
 Lilies fair of face, 
 Drowsy scents and murmurs, 
 Haunting every place ; 
 Beams of golden sunshine, 
 Moonlight bright as day, — 
 Don't you think the summer's 
 Pleasanter than May? 
 
 Third Pupil : 
 
 The ground was all covered with snow one day; 
 And two little sisters were busy at play, 
 When a snow bird was sitting close by on a tree, 
 And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee. 
 
 
 Fourth Pupil: 
 
 Buttercups and daisies, 
 
 Oh, the pretty flowers ! 
 Coming, ere the spring time, 
 
 To tell of sunny hours. 
 While the trees are leafless, 
 
 While the fields are bare, 
 Buttercups and daisies 
 
 Spring up everywhere. 
 
 Fifth Pupil : 
 
 How pleasant the life of a bird must be, 
 Flitting about in each leafy tree ! 
 In the leafy tree so broad and tall, 
 Like a green and beautiful palace hall. 
 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 7 1 
 
 Sixth Pupil: 
 
 A fair little girl sat under a tree, 
 
 Sewing as long as her eyes could see ; 
 
 Then smoothed her work, and folded it right, 
 
 And said, " Dear work, good night, good night." 
 
 Seventh Pupil : 
 
 Kind hearts are the gardens, 
 
 Kind thoughts are the roots, 
 Kind words are the blossoms, 
 
 Kind deeds are the fruits. 
 
 Eighth Pupil: 
 
 So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, 
 To you and to me, to you and to me ; 
 And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy: 
 " Oh, the world's running over with joy ! 
 But long it won't be — 
 Don't you know ? don't you see ? 
 Unless we are as good as can be ! " 
 
 THE BLUEBIRD'S SONG. 
 
 I KNOW the song that the bluebird is singing, 
 Out in the apple tree where he is swinging. 
 Brave little fellow ! the skies may be dreary — 
 Nothing cares he while his heart is so cheery ! 
 
 Hark ! how the music leaps out from his throat ! 
 Hark ! was there ever so merry a note ? 
 Listen awhile, and you'll hear what he's saying, 
 Up in the apple tree swinging and swaying. 
 
 Dear little blossoms down under the snow, 
 You must be weary of winter I know; 
 Hark while I sing you a message of cheer ! 
 Summer is coming! and spring time is here ! " 
 
 ' Little white snowdrop ! I pray you arise ; 
 Bright yellow crocus! come open your eyes; 
 Sweet little violets, hid from the cold, 
 Put on your mantles of purple and gold; 
 Daffodils ! daffodils ! say do you hear? 
 Summer is coming ! and spring time is here ! " 
 
7 2 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 "WHEN THE GREEN GITS BACK IN THE TREES." 
 
 IN the spring when the green gits back in the trees, 
 And the sun comes out and stays, 
 
 And your boots pull on with a good tight squeeze, 
 And you think of your barefoot days ; 
 
 When you ort to work and you want to not, 
 And you and yer wife agrees 
 
 It's time to spade up the garden lot- 
 When the green gits back on the trees — 
 Well, work is the least of my idees 
 When the green, you know, gits back in the trees. 
 
 When the green gits back in the trees, and bees 
 Is a-buzzin' aroun' agin, 
 
 In that kind of a lazy "go-as-j'ou please " 
 Old gait they hum roun' in ; 
 
 When the ground's all bald where the hayrick stood, 
 And the crick's riz, and the breeze 
 
 Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood, 
 
 And the green gits back in the trees — 
 I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these, 
 The time when the green gits back in the trees. 
 
 When the whole tail-feathers o' winter-time 
 
 Is all pulled out and gone, 
 And the sap it thaws and begins to climb, 
 
 And the sweat it starts out on 
 A feller's forrerd, a-gittin' down 
 
 At the old spring on his knees — 
 I kind o' like, jes' a-loaferin' roun' 
 
 When the green gits back in the trees — 
 
 Jes' a-potterin' roun' as I — durn — please — 
 
 When the green, you know, gits back in the trees. 
 
 James Whitcomb Riley, 
 
 
 How dreary would the garden be, 
 
 With all its flowery trees, 
 Suppose there were no butterflies, 
 
 And suppose there were no bees. 
 
 Alice Carey 
 
ARBOR DAY MAX UAL. 
 
 73 
 
 THE TWIG THAT BECAME A TREE. 
 
 THE tree of which I am about to tell you was once a little twig. There were 
 many others like it, and the farmer came to look at them every day, to see 
 if they were all doing well. 
 
 By-and-by he began to take away the older and stronger twigs, and one day 
 he dug up this little tree and carried it away to an open field. 
 
 There its roots were again put into the soft warm ground, and it held its 
 pretty head up as if looking into the blue sky. Just at sunset the farmer's wife 
 came out to look at the new tree. 
 
 "I wonder if I shall ever see apples growing on these twigs," she said. 
 
 The little tree heard it, and said softly, "We shall see! Come gentle rain 
 and warm sun, and let me be the first to give a fine red apple to the farmer's 
 wife ! " 
 
 And the rain and the sun did come, and the branches grew, and the roots 
 dug deep into the soft ground, and at last, one bright spring da)' the farmer's 
 wife cried, 
 
 "Just see ! One of our little trees has some blossoms on it ! I believe that, 
 small as it is, it will give me an apple this autumn." 
 
 But the farmer laughed and said, "Oh, it is not old enough to bear apples 
 yet." 
 
 The little tree said nothing, but all to itself it thought, " The good woman 
 shall have an apple this very year." 
 
 And she did. When the cool days of autumn came, and the leaves began to 
 fade and grow yellow, two red apples hung upon one of the branches of the 
 tree. 
 
 THE SPICE TREE. 
 
 THE spice tree grows in the garden green, 
 Beside it the fountain flows, 
 And a fair bird sits the boughs between 
 And sings his melodious woes. 
 
 No greener garden e'er was known 
 
 Within the bounds of an earthly King ; 
 No brighter skies have ever shone 
 
 Than those that illumine its constant spring. 
 
 That coil bound stem has branches three 
 
 On each a thousand blossoms grow, 
 And, old as aught of time can be, 
 
 The roots stand fast in the rocks below. 
 
 John Sterling. 
 
74 ARBOR DA V. MANUAL. 
 
 FALL FASHIONS. 
 
 THE maple owned that she was tired of always wearing green, 
 She knew that she had grown, of late, too shabby to be seen ! 
 The oak and beech and chestnut then deplored their shabbiness, 
 And all, except the hemlock sad, were wild to change their dress. 
 
 ' For fashion-plates we'll take the flowers," the rustling maple said. 
 
 'And like the tulip I'll be clothed in splendid gold and red !" 
 
 'The cheerful sunflower suits me best," the lightsome beech replied; 
 
 1 The marigold my choice shall be," the chestnut spoke with pride. 
 The sturdy old oak took time to think, "I hate such glaring hues; 
 The gillyflower, so dark and rich, I for my model choose." 
 So every tree in all the grove, except the hemlock sad, 
 According to its wish ere long in brilliant dress was clad. 
 And here they stand through all the soft and bright October days ; 
 They wished to be like flowers — indeed they look like huge bouquets. 
 
 COME TO THE FOREST. 
 
 COME to the forest, the bright sun is shining, 
 And nature is decked in her proudest array; 
 The green leafy boughs with ivy entwining, 
 
 Bend gracefully o'er the sweet flow'rs of May. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 O come to the forest, all nature is gay ; 
 Come away ! Come away ! Come away, away ! 
 Come away! Come away! Come away ! Come away! 
 Away, away, away, away. 
 Away, away, away, away. 
 
 Come to the forest, the gay birds are singing, 
 As upward they soar to the beautiful sky; 
 
 And through the fresh air bright insects are winging; 
 Then come to the forest while summer is nigfh. 
 
 GOD'S LOVE. 
 
 THERE'S nobgpflower that decks the vale, 
 There's not a tree that guards the mountain, 
 There's not a shrub that scents the gale, 
 
 There's not a wind that stirs the fountain, 
 There's not a hue that paints the rose, 
 There's not a leaf around us lying, 
 But in its use or beauty shows 
 
 God's love to us, and love undying. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 75 
 
 TREE PLANTING. 
 
 A BOY strolled through a dusty road, 
 "What can I do? " said he, 
 What little errand for the world ? " 
 " I know — I'll plant a tree." 
 
 The nursling was taken by mother earth, 
 
 Who fed it with all things good : 
 Sparkling water from mountain springs, 
 
 And many a subtle food, 
 
 Drawn from her own wide-reaching veins; 
 
 From the treasuries of the sky, 
 Far spread its branches in affluent grace; 
 
 So the steady years went by. 
 
 The boy who planted the little tree, 
 
 By a kindly purpose led, 
 One desolate, dreadful winter day 
 
 In the brother-war fell dead. 
 
 But the gentle thought at the great elm's root 
 Burst forth with the spring's warm breath, 
 And softly the fluttering foliage sang, 
 "Love cannot suffer death." 
 
 The elm's vast shadow far and cool 
 
 Fell o'er the dusty way, 
 Blessing the toilers at their rest, 
 
 The children at their play. 
 
 And panting horses felt the air 
 
 Grow sudden full of balm ; 
 Great oxen with their weary loads 
 
 Caught there a sudden calm. 
 
 So little acts of kindliness 
 
 Spread every branch and root, 
 And never guesses he who plants 
 
 The wonders of the fruit. 
 
 I often think if blessed eyes 
 
 The old home scenes can see, 
 That heaven's joy is heightened by 
 
 The planting of the tree. 
 
 M. F. Butts. 
 
7 6 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 PLANT WORSHIP. 
 
 THE plant worship which holds so prominent a place in the history of the 
 primitive races of mankind would appear to have sprung from a percep- 
 tion of the beauty and utility of trees. Survivals of this still linger on in many 
 parts of Europe. The peasants in Bohemia will sally forth into their gardens 
 before sunrise on Good Friday, and falling upon their knees before a tree will 
 exclaim : " I pray O green tree, that God may make thee good." At night time 
 they will run to and fro about their gardens crying: " Bud, O trees, bud, or I 
 will flog you." In our own country the Devonshire farmers and their men will 
 to this day go out into their orchards after supper on the evening of Twelfth 
 Day, carrying with them a large milk pail of cider, with roasted apples pressed 
 into it. All present hold in their hands an earthenware cup filled with liquor, 
 and taking up their stand beneath those apple trees which have borne the most 
 fruit, address them in these words : 
 
 " Health to thee, good apple tree, 
 Well to bear pocket fulls, hat fulls, 
 Peck fulls, bushel bag fulls ! " 
 
 simultaneously dashing the contents of their cups over the trees. The observ- 
 ance of this ceremony, which is locally known as "wassailing," is enjoined by 
 Thomas Tusser in his work entitled " Five Hundred Points of Good Hus- 
 bandry," wherein he bids the husbandman 
 
 " Wassail the trees, that they may bear 
 You many a plum and many a pear ; 
 For more or less fruit they will bring, 
 As you do them wassailing." 
 
 In most countries certain plants are to be found associated with witches and 
 their craft. Shakespeare causes one of his witches to discourse of root of 
 "hemlock digg'd i' the dark;" likewise also of "slips of yew sliver'd in the 
 moon's eclipse." Vervain was in olden times known as " the enchanter's plant ; " 
 rue, again, was regarded as an antidote against their spells and machinations. 
 Their partiality for certain trees is well known. According to Grimm, the 
 trysting place of the Neapolitan witches was a walnut tree near Benevento. 
 In walnut and elder trees they are also said to be in the habit of lurking at 
 nightfall. Witches, too, had their favorite flowers. Among these the foxglove 
 was known as the "witches' bells;" the harebell as the "witches' thimbles." 
 Tradition asserted that on moonlight nights they might be seen flying through 
 the air, mounted on the stems of the ragwort, reeds, or bulrushes. Throughout 
 Germany it is believed that witches career through the midnight skies on hay. 
 Many plants were pressed into the service of charms and spells for the detec- 
 tion of witches and evil spirits when wandering about on their nefarious 
 errands, particularly the St. John's wort, still largely worn by the German 
 peasantry as a kind of amulet on St. John's eve. It was an old belief that all 
 baptized persons whose eyes had been steeped in the green juice of the inner 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 77 
 
 bark of the elder tree would be enabled to detect witches anywhere. The 
 same property, according to German folk lore, is possessed by the wild radish, 
 ivy and saxifrage on Walpurgis Night. Among other plants which have had 
 the reputation of averting the crafts and subtleties of witchcraft, the juniper, 
 holly, mistletoe, little pimpernel, herb paris, cyclamen, angelica, herb betony, 
 rowan tree, bracken, and twigs of the ash may be mentioned. In the Rhine 
 district the water lily is regarded as antagonistic to sorcery. Lavender is be- 
 lieved in Tuscany to possess the power of averting the evil eye. Olive 
 branches are said to keep the witches from the cottage doors in the rural dis- 
 tricts of Italy, and the Russian peasantry will lay aspen upon the grave of a 
 witch to prevent her spirit from walking abroad or exercising any evil influence 
 over her neighbors. 
 
 The Gentlemen's Magazine. 
 
 THE BLUEBIRD. 
 
 "TMS early spring; the distant hills 
 
 1 Are flecked with drifts of dingy snow, 
 And bird-notes from the lofty trees 
 
 Come down in warblings soft and low. 
 
 The bluebird seeks his home again, 
 
 He sings sweet love songs to his mate ; 
 They choose the dear old apple tree 
 
 Whose branches shade our garden gate. 
 
 One door, one window in their cot — 
 
 All else is safe from wind and rain; 
 The ruffled nest of former years 
 
 Is soon made new and warm again. 
 
 And now I watch with keen delight 
 
 This shady home so near our door, 
 Till busy parents come to bring 
 
 Their dainties to the fledglings four. 
 
 How sweet to climb the bended trunk, 
 
 To gaze upon the tiny brood, 
 And see four little gaping mouths 
 
 Upraised imploringly for food. 
 
 Dear warblers of my early years ! 
 
 A child again, once more I wait, 
 And watch you in the apple tree 
 
 Whose branches shade our garden gate. 
 
 C. F. Gerry. 
 
78 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 TO A PINE TREE. 
 
 FAR up on Katahdin thou towerest. 
 Purple-blue with the distance and vast; 
 Like a cloud o'er the lowlands thou lowerest, 
 That hangs poised on a lull in the blast, 
 To its fall leaning awful. 
 
 In the storm, like a prophet o'er maddened, 
 Thou singest and tossest thy branches ; 
 
 Thy heart with the terror is gladdened, 
 Thou fore'bodest the dread avalanches, 
 
 When whole mountains swoop valeward. 
 
 In the calm thou o'er stretchest the valleys 
 With thine arms, as if blessings imploring, 
 
 Like an old King led forth from his palace, 
 When his people to battle are pouring 
 From the city beneath him. 
 
 Spite of winter, thou keep'st thy green glory, 
 
 Lustv father of Titans past number ! 
 The snow-flakes alone make thee hoary, 
 
 Nestling close to thy branches in slumber, 
 And the mantling with silence. 
 
 Thou alone know'st the splendor of winter, 
 
 Mid thy snow-silvered, hushed precipices, 
 Hearing crags of green ice groan and splinter, 
 
 And then plunge down the muffled abysses 
 In the quiet of midnight. 
 
 Thou alone know'st the glory of summer, 
 
 Gazing down on thy broad seas of forest, 
 On thy subjects that send a proud murmur 
 Up to thee, to their sachem, who towerest 
 From thy bleak throne to heaven. 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 The violet in her greenwood bower, 
 
 Where birchen boughs with hazels mingle, 
 
 May boast itself the fairest flower 
 
 In glen, or copse, or forest dingle. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 79 
 
 THE BLUEBELL. 
 
 THERE is a story I have heard — 
 A poet learned it from a bird, 
 And kept its music, every word — 
 
 A story of a dim ravine, 
 
 O'er which the towering tree tops lean, 
 
 With one blue rift of sky between , 
 
 And there, two thousand years ago, 
 A little flower, as white as snow, 
 Swayed in the silence to and fro. 
 
 Day after day with longing eye 
 
 The floweret watched the narrow sky 
 
 And fleecy clouds that floated by. 
 
 And through the darkness, night by night, 
 One gleaming star would climb the height, 
 And cheer the lonely floweret's sight. 
 
 Thus, watching the blue heavens afar, 
 And the rising of its favorite star, 
 A slow change came, but not to mar ; 
 
 For softly o'er its petals white 
 There crept a blueness like the light 
 Of skies upon a summer night ; 
 
 And in its chalice, I am told, 
 The bonny bell was found to hold 
 A tiny star that gleamed like gold. 
 
 And blue bells of the Scottish land 
 Are loved on every foreign strand 
 Where stirs a Scottish heart or hand. 
 
 Now little people, sweet and true, 
 
 I find a lesson here for you, 
 
 Writ in the floweret's bell of blue : 
 
 The patient child whose watchful eye 
 Strives after all things pure and high 
 Shall take their irn^ge by and by. 
 
8o 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Written for the "Arbor Day Manual. 
 
 ARBOR DAY POEM. 
 
 LISTEN ! the grand old forests, 
 Through which our fathers journeyed, 
 Wherein their hearth-fires glimmered, 
 
 Are crashing sadly down ; 
 The echoes of their falling 
 Are like the booming sea guns, 
 That tell of sore disaster 
 
 When tempests darkly frown. 
 
 Those trees of God's own planting, 
 Once standing with their branches 
 Close-locked, like loving children, 
 
 On many a mountain side ; 
 Now, where the shade lay thickest, 
 The sunshine darts and quivers, 
 And turns to gold the wheat fields, 
 
 Till all seems glorified. 
 
 We mourn the vanished grandeur 
 Of forests dark and stately, 
 Yet we have not been idle, 
 
 While ruthless axes swung ; 
 A new, a glorious planting, 
 Now gives a royal promise 
 Of shade for generations 
 
 Whose deeds are still unsung. 
 
 We plant the pine and fir tree, 
 And all that wear green branches, 
 To give us hope of spring-time, 
 
 Though snows are over all; 
 The maple is for bird-songs, 
 The elm for stately branches, 
 Whose long, protecting shadows 
 
 Through summer noontides fall. 
 
 Listen ! a pleasant whisper 
 Goes softly through the branches 
 Of every lithe young sapling, 
 
 By earnest workers set ; 
 It says, " The time is coming 
 When we shall be the forests, 
 And give to all the nations, 
 
 The shade they now regret." 
 
 Sodus Centre, N. Y. 
 
 Lillian E. Knapp. 
 
 Written for the "Ardor Day Manual.' 
 
 LITTLE ACORN. 
 
 FOR RECITATION. 
 
 u 
 
 'M nothing but a little acorn, 
 X Not much bigger than a bee; 
 But mama Oak-tree tells me that 
 
 I will grow as big as she, — 
 
 " I can't see how — but she says someway 
 I will pop out from my shell, 
 A little sprout will greet the sunshine, 
 Starting up, and down as well. 
 
 " I'll keep growing, bigger, higher, 
 Spreading out my branches wide; 
 And will never stop to wonder 
 
 Till I stand up by her side. 
 Watertown, N. Y. 
 
 Then I'll look down on my sisters, — 
 For there were a lot you see, — 
 
 Some who said they knew they couldn't 
 Ever sprout and be a tree. 
 
 So they never made an effort, — 
 Did not ' try and try again ' ; 
 
 There was nothing that could make them, 
 Though nature taught their duty plain. 
 
 But I am happy as I can be — 
 
 Keeping laws of God and man — 
 
 Now, can't you learn a lesson from me 
 Growing upward all you can? " 
 
 Mrs. M. H. Huntington. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE WONDERFUL " ONE-HOSS SHAY." 
 
 HAVE you heard of the wonderful one hoss shay, 
 That was built in such a logical way — ? 
 It ran a hundred years to a day. 
 
 Now, in building of chaises, I tell you what, 
 There is always, somewhere, a weakest spot — 
 In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill, 
 In panel or cross-bar, or floor, or sill, 
 In screw, bolt, thorough-brace — lurking still, 
 Find it somewhere you must and will — 
 Above or below, or within or without — 
 And that's the reason, beyond a doubt, 
 A chaise breaks down, but does'nt wear out. 
 
 But the Deacon swore — (as Deacons do 
 With an " I dew vum " or an " I tell yeou ") — 
 He would build one shay to beat the taown 
 'N' the keounty ' n' all the kentry raoun' ; 
 It should be so built that it couldn't break daouwn : — 
 "Fur," said the Deacon, " 'tis mighty plain, 
 That the weakes' place must stan' the strain ; 
 " N' the way t' fix it, uz I maintain, 
 Is only jest 
 
 ' T' make that place uz strong uz the rest." 
 So the Deacon inquired of the village folk 
 Where he could find the strongest oak, 
 That couldn't be split, nor bent, nor broke — 
 That was for spokes, and floor, and sills , 
 He sent for lancewood, to make the thills ; ' 
 The cross-bars were ash, from the straighest trees ; 
 The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, 
 But lasts like iron for things like these ; 
 The hubs from logs from the " setler's ellum— " 
 Last of its timber — they couldn't sell 'em— 
 Never an axe had seen their chips, 
 And the wedges flew from between their lips, 
 Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips ; 
 Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, 
 Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, 
 Steel of the finest, bright and blue ; 
 Thorough-brace bison-skin, thick and wide ; 
 Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide, 
 Found in the pit where the tanner died. 
 That was the way he " put her through." 
 ''There ! " said the Deacon, " naow she'll dew ! " 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 G 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE VOICE OF SPRING. 
 
 I COME, 1 come ! ye have called me long ; 
 I come o'er the mountains, with light and song. 
 Ye may trace my step o'er the waking earth 
 By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, 
 By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, 
 By the green leaves opening as I pass. 
 
 I have breathed on the South, and the chestnut flowers 
 By thousands have burst from the" forest bowers, 
 And the ancient graves, and the fallen fanes 
 Are veiled with wreaths on Italian plains ; 
 But it is not for me, in my hour of bloom, 
 To speak of the ruin or the tomb ! 
 
 I have looked on the hills of the stormy North, 
 
 And the larch has hung all his tassels forth ; 
 
 The fisher is out on the. sunny sea, 
 
 And the reindeer bounds o'er the pastures free, 
 
 And the pine has a fringe of softer green, 
 
 And the moss looks bright, where my foot hath been. 
 
 I have sent through the wood-paths a glowing sigh, 
 And called out each voice of the deep blue sky, 
 From the night bird's lay through the starry time, 
 In the groves of the soft Hesperian clime, 
 To the swan's wild note by the Iceland lakes, 
 When the dark fir-branch into verdure breaks. 
 
 From the streams and founts I have loosed the chain ; 
 They are sweeping on to the silvery main, 
 They are flashing down from the mountain brows, 
 They are flinging spray o'er the forest boughs, 
 They are bursting fresh from their sparry caves, 
 And the earth resounds with the joy of waves ! 
 
 Awajr from the dwellings of care-worn men, 
 The waters are sparkling in grove and glen ! 
 Away from the chamber and sullen hearth, 
 The young leaves are dancing in breezy mirth ! 
 Their light stems thrill in the wildwood strains, 
 And youth is abroad in my green domains. 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 83 
 
 THE HOLLY-TREE. 
 
 READER ! hast thou ever stood to see 
 The Holly-tree? 
 The eye that contemplates it will perceive 
 
 Its glossy leaves 
 Ordered by an intelligence so wise 
 As might confound the Atheist's sophistries. 
 
 Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen, 
 
 Wrinkled and keen ; 
 No grazing cattle through their prickly round 
 
 Can reach to wound ; 
 But, as they grow where nothing is to fear, 
 Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear. 
 
 I love to view these things with curious eyes, 
 
 And moralize ; 
 And in this wisdom of the Holly-tree 
 
 Can emblem see 
 Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme, 
 One which may profit in after-time. 
 
 Thus, though abroad perchance I might appear 
 
 Harsh and austere 
 To those who on my leisure would intrude 
 
 Reserved and rude, 
 Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be, 
 Like the high leaves upon the Holly-tree 
 
 And should my youth, as youth is apt I know, 
 
 Some harshness show, 
 All vain asperities I day by day 
 
 Would wear away, 
 Till the smooth temper of my age should be 
 Like the high leaves upon the Holly-tree. 
 
 And as, when all the summer trees are seen 
 
 So bright and green, 
 The Holly-leaves a sober hue display 
 
 Less bright than they, 
 But when the bare and wintry woods we see, 
 What then so cheerful as the Holly-tree ?- 
 
 So serious should my youth appear among 
 
 The thoughtless throng; 
 So would I seem, amid the young and gay, 
 
 More grave than they, 
 
 That in my age as cheerful I might be 
 
 As the green winter of the Holly-tree. 
 
 s Robert Southey, i79 8 - 
 
84 arbor da y manual. 
 
 THE TRAILING ARBUTUS. 
 
 DARLINGS of the forest ! 
 Blossoming alone, 
 When earth's grief is sorest 
 For her jewels gone, 
 Ere the last snow drift melts, your tender buds are blown. 
 
 Fringed with color faintly, 
 Like the morning sky, 
 Or, more pale and saintly, 
 Wrapped in leaves ye lie, 
 Even as children sleep in faith's simplicity. 
 
 There the wild-wood robin 
 
 Hymns your solitude ; 
 And the rain comes sobbing 
 
 Through the budding wood, 
 While the low south wind sighs, but dare not be more rude. 
 
 Were your pure lips fashioned 
 
 Out of air and dew, 
 Starlight unimpassioned 
 
 Dawn's most tender hue, 
 And scented by the woods that gathered sweets for you ? 
 
 Fairest and most lonely, 
 
 From the world apart ; 
 Made for beauty onty, 
 
 Veiled from Nature's heart 
 With such unconscious grace as wakes the dream of Art. 
 
 Were not mortal sorrow 
 An immortal shade, 
 Then would I to-morrow 
 Such a flower be made, 
 And live in the dear woods, where my lost childhood played. 
 
 Rose Terry Cooke. 
 
 " I am Storm — the King ! 
 My troops are the wind, and the hail, and the rain ; , 
 
 My foes are the woods and the feathery grain. 
 
 The mail-clad oak 
 He gnarls his front to my charge and stroke." 
 
 Francis M. Finch, The Storm King. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 85 
 
 LIFE'S FOREST TREES. 
 
 THE day grows brief; the afternoon is slanting 
 Down to the west ; there is no time to waste. 
 If you have any seed of good for planting, 
 You must, you must make haste. 
 
 Not as of old do you enjoy earth's pleasures 
 
 (The only joys that last are those we give). 
 Across the grave you cannot take gains, treasures ; 
 
 But good and kind deeds live. 
 
 1 would not wait for any great achievement; 
 
 You may not live to reach that far off goal. 
 Speak soothing words to some heart in bereavement — 
 
 Aid some up-struggling soul. 
 
 Teach some weak life to strive for independence ; 
 
 Reach out a hand to some one in sore need. 
 Though it seem idle, yet in their descendants 
 
 May blossom this chance seed. 
 
 On each life path, like costly flowers faded 
 
 And cast away, are pleasures that are dead ; 
 Good deeds, like trees, whereunder, fed and shaded, 
 
 Souls yet unborn may tread. 
 
 Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 
 
 HOW TO MAKE A WHISTLE. 
 
 FIRST take a willow bough, Slip the bark off carefully, 
 Smooth, and round, and dark, So that it will not break, 
 
 And cut a little ring And cut away the inside part, 
 
 Just through the outside bark And then a mouth-piece make. 
 
 Then tap and rap it gently Now put the bark all nicely back 
 With many a pat and pound And in a single minute, 
 
 To loosen up the bark, Just put it to your lips 
 
 So it may turn around. And blow the whistle in it. 
 
 "Nature's sepulchre is breaking, 
 And the earth, her gloom forsaking, 
 Into life and light is waking." 
 
 Phcebe Cary in " Resurgam." 
 
g5 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE MORNING-GLORY SEED. 
 
 A LITTLE girl one day in the month of May dropped a morning-glory seed 
 into a small hole in the ground and said : " Now, morning-glory seed, 
 hurry and grow, grow, grow until you are a tall vine covered with pretty green 
 leaves and lovely trumpet flowers." But the earth was very dry, for there had 
 been no rain for a long time, and the poor wee seed could not grow at all. So, 
 after lying patiently in the small hole for nine long days and nine long nights, 
 it said to the ground around it : "O ground, please give me a few drops of 
 water to soften my hard brown coat, so that it may burst open and set free my 
 two green seed-leaves, and then I can begin to be a vine!" But the ground 
 said : " That you must ask of the rain." 
 
 So the seed called to the rain : " O rain, please come down and wet the 
 ground around me so that it may give me a few drops of water. Then will my 
 hard brown coat grow softer and softer until at last it can burst open and set 
 free my two green seed-leaves and I can begin to be a vine!" But the rain 
 said : " I cannot unless the clouds hang lower." 
 
 So the seed said to the clouds : "O clouds, please hang lower and let the 
 rain come down and wet the ground around me, so that it may give me a few 
 drops of water. Then will my hard brown coat grow softer and softer until at 
 last it can burst open and set free my two green seed-leaves and I can begin to 
 be a vine!" But the clouds said : "The sun must hide, first." 
 
 So the seed called to the sun : " O sun, please hide for a little while so that 
 the clouds may hang lower, and the rain come down and wet the ground 
 around me. Then will the ground give me a few drops of water and my hard 
 brown coat grow softer and softer until at last it can burst open and set free 
 my two green seed-leaves and I can begin to be a vine ! " "I will," said the 
 sun, and he was gone in a flash. 
 
 Then the clouds began to hang lower and lower, and the rain began to fall 
 faster and faster, and the ground began to get wetter and wetter, and the seed- 
 coat began to grow softer and softer until at last open it burst ! — and out came 
 two bright green seed-leaves and the Morning-glory Seed began to be a Vine ! 
 
 St. Nicholas, 1SS8. Margaret Eytinge. 
 
 FOOLISH LITTLE ROBIN. 
 
 ONCE there was a robin lived outside the door, 
 Who wanted to go inside, and hop upon the floor. 
 " Oh, no ! " said the mother, "you must stay with me ; 
 Little birds are safest sitting in a tree." 
 
 "I don't care," said robin, and gave his tail a fling; 
 "I don't think the old folks know quite everything." 
 
 Down he flew,— and kitty seized him, before he'd time to blink 
 "Oh," he cried, "I'm sorry! but I didn't think." 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 87 
 
 THE PRETTY ROSE-TREE. 
 
 BEING weary of love, I flew to the grove, 
 And chose me a tree of the fairest ; 
 Saying, " Pretty rose-tree, thou my mistress shalt be, 
 I'll worship each bud that thou bearest, 
 
 For the hearts of this world are hollow, 
 And fickle the smiles we follow; 
 And 'tis sweet, when all their witcheries pall, 
 
 To have a pure love to fly to ; 
 So, my pretty rose-tree, thou my mistress shalt be, 
 And the only one now I shall sigh to." 
 
 When the beautiful hue of thy cheek through the dew 
 Of morning is bashfully peeping, 
 " Sweet tears," I shall say (as I brush them away), 
 " At least there's no art in this weeping. 
 
 Although thou shouldest die to-morrow, 
 'Twill not be from pain or sorrow, 
 And the thorns of thy stem are not like them 
 
 With which hearts wound each other: 
 So, my pretty rose-tree, thou my mistress shalt be, 
 And I'll ne'er again sigh to another." 
 
 Thomas Moore. 
 
 ECHO. 
 
 I love the proud grandeur of the old forest trees, 
 
 With their leaves whispering softly their thoughts to the breeze ; 
 
 And I love the bright streamlet that flows at their feet, 
 
 Whose low distant murmurs faint echoes repeat, 
 
 They say that an echo dwells here in the dell, 
 
 Who every fond wish of the young heart can tell. 
 
 Hark, the echo ! hark, the echo ! 
 Who every fond wish of the young heart can tell. 
 
 1 love the bright woodland, where the echoes are found, 
 Where the rocks and the hills with sweet music resound, 
 As the echoes awake to the shepherd's shrill horn, 
 And the notes of the thrush on the breezes are borne. 
 1 love the green fields, and the fragrant wild flowers, 
 That drink with the dew generous light from above. 
 
 Here's an echo, here's an echo, 
 Here's an echo that wakes to the voice of my love. 
 
 L. V. Hall. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE OLIVE TREES OF PALESTINE. 
 
 I am like a green olive tree in the house of God.— Psalm 52 : 8. 
 
 AMONG the gray old rounded hills, 
 • O'er regions broad of Holy Land, 
 A grateful scene the vision fills, 
 
 Where clustering groves of olive stand. 
 
 Rich in the vales, the slopes they trace, 
 And oft the rocky summits crown; 
 
 The thrifty saplings grow apace 
 
 Beside the trees of gnarled renown. 
 
 Slowly the grafted stems mature — 
 From olives wild no fruit appears — 
 
 But long the sturdy plants endure, 
 And measure oft a thousand years. 
 
 They love the hard and flinty soil, 
 
 Drive down their roots amid the rocks, 
 
 Draw out from thence their choicest oil, 
 And stand secure from stormy shocks. 
 
 Symmetric beauty, humble, calm, 
 Their pleasant features clearly mark, 
 
 Not like the tall and tufted palm, 
 Nor tapering cypress, slender, dark. 
 
 When vernal airs and skies appear, 
 Star-blooms of purest white are seen, 
 
 'Mid narrow leaves that all the year 
 Keep an unchanging evergreen. 
 
 As autumn days their exit make, 
 Ring all the groves in merry gale, 
 
 While stalwart hands the branches shake, 
 And purple fruit descends like hail. 
 
 Their sacks the gleeful maidens fill, 
 And bear them on their heads away; 
 
 On topmost boughs are berries still, 
 To cheer the poor who hither stray. 
 
 When sacred hills in mantling snow 
 Feel winter storms along them sweep, 
 
 And torrents cold through valleys flow, 
 Unwithered leaves the olives keep. 
 
 The richest wealth the people know, 
 The largest comforts that they see, 
 
 Each daily meal, the lamp's bright glow, 
 Attest the value of the tree. 
 
 Down to their life's remotest stage, 
 Though trunk decays and boughs are grim, 
 
 The reverend forms are green in age, 
 And berries hang from every limb. 
 
 Such are the grand old sacred trees 
 
 I saw in sweet Gethsemane, 
 And thought of Him whose holy knees 
 
 Bowed under burdens there for me. 
 
 While blossoms fade, or falling oft Along the slope of that dear hill, 
 From arching boughs they lately decked, To where He vanished in the sky, 
 
 That dusky hue of foliage soft Infrequent stands the olive still, 
 With deeper emerald gems is flecked. To bring the days of Jesus nigh. 
 
 Through arid heats of summer time, And o'er the ridge they cluster sweet, 
 
 When fountains fail and leaves are brown, Where Bethany, beloved for Him, 
 
 That fadeless verdure holds its prime, So oft received His weary feet, 
 
 And rounding berries fill its crown. When day declined to twilight dim. 
 
 Emblem of peace! I would like thee 
 
 In living faithfulness abound; 
 Oh! let me, like the olive tree, 
 Within the house of God be found. 
 Hours at Home, 1 866. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 89 
 
 MAY. 
 
 CAN it be that it is snowing, 
 On this clear and sunny day? 
 Are the snow-flakes thickly falling 
 In the pleasant month of May? 
 
 May, the month of song and story, 
 Singing birds and fairest flowers; 
 
 May, the month of nature's glory, 
 
 Sunshine bright and gentle showers. 
 
 No, it is the apple blossoms 
 
 Falling, falling from the trees, 
 
 Dancing in a whirl of rapture 
 To the music of the breeze. 
 
 Listen to the robins singing 
 
 'Mid the branches of the trees 
 
 Listen to the blue-birds' carol 
 And the drowsy hum of bees. 
 
 Till the orchard grass is covered 
 With a carpet pure and white ; 
 
 Like the crystal snow of winter 
 Dipped in rosy sunset light. 
 
 All the land is filled with sunshine, 
 Every heart is light and gay, 
 
 Nature smiles upon her children 
 For it is the month of May. 
 
 May, the month of song and story, 
 Singing birds and fairest flowers; 
 
 May, the month of nature's glory, 
 
 Sunshine bright and gentle showers. 
 
 Wm. G. Park. 
 
 A BUTTERCUP. 
 
 A LITTLE yellow buttercup 
 Stood laughing in the sun; 
 The grass all green around it, 
 The summer just begun! 
 Its saucy little head abrim 
 With happiness and fun. 
 
 " Don't think because you're yellow now, 
 That golden days will last; 
 
 I was as gay as you are, once; 
 But now my youth is past. 
 
 This da} r will be my last to bloom; 
 The hours are going fast. 
 
 Near by — grown old and gone to seed, 
 
 A dandelion grew, 
 To right and left with every breeze 
 
 His snowy tissues flew. 
 He shook his saucy head and said: 
 " I've some advice for you. 
 
 " Perhaps your fun may last a week, 
 But then you'll have to die." 
 The dandelion ceased to speak, — 
 
 A breeze that capered by 
 Snatched all the white hairs from his head; 
 And wafted them on high. 
 
 His yellow neighbor first looked sad, 
 
 Then, cheering up, he said: 
 ' If one's to live in fear of death, 
 One might as well be dead." 
 
 The little buttercup laughed on, 
 And waved his golden head. 
 
 K. C. 
 
9° 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 Written for the "Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 RESURGAM. 
 
 HEN the Great Architect conceived the plan 
 To build a habitation fit for man, 
 Earth was not counted perfect from His hand, 
 Till streams and forests gladdened all the land. 
 
 W 1 
 
 Great forests, like huge temples builded high, 
 With frondent columns reaching toward the sky, 
 Firm founded in the rich and nurturing ground, 
 Their roofs with nature's glorious verdure crowned. 
 
 Almighty Builder ! with what wise design 
 Didst rear the mighty oak, the giant pine ! 
 How did Thy grand beneficence unfold 
 In beech and maple with their wealth untold ! 
 
 Rivers and forests with their scenery grand, 
 Made glad the earth fresh from the Maker's hand ; 
 The orb of day looked down on man's abode, 
 And with the stars sang praise to nature's God. 
 
 So time passed on, till earth was peopled o'er; 
 Human abodes were built on every shore; 
 While in the forests depths, in the soft shade, 
 Four-footed beauties with their offspring played. 
 
 High in their branches feathered warblers sang, 
 Till the dark woods with glad hosannas rang; 
 And all was life and beauty. But God's plan 
 Too soon was marred by greedy, wanton man. 
 
 Stroke upon stroke the cruel axeman plied, 
 Nor rested he till nature's choicest pride, 
 "The grand old woods," were ruthlessly laid low, 
 Entailing dark disaster and dire woe ! 
 
 But now, thank God ! a noble band of men 
 Come to the front. The woods shall rise again ! 
 An army of tree planters, bearing trees, 
 Fling out their glorious banner to the breeze ! 
 
 Come, old and young and join the noble throng 
 Who celebrate this day with speech and song ; 
 And millions yet unborn shall own your sway, 
 And rise to bless our glorious Arbor Day ! 
 Alton, N. Y. Seymour S. Short. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 91 
 
 SUNSET. 
 
 THE evening shadows lengthen on the lawn: 
 Westward, our immemorial chestnuts stand, 
 A mount of shade; but o'er the cedars drawn, 
 
 Between the hedge-row trees, in many a band 
 Of brightening gold, the sunshine lingers on, 
 
 And soon will touch our oaks with parting hand : 
 And down the distant valley all is still, 
 And flushed with purple smiles the beckoning hill. 
 
 Come, leave the flowery terrace, leave the beds 
 
 Where Southern children wake to Northern air; 
 
 Let yon mimosas droop their tufted heads, 
 
 These myrtle-trees their nuptial beauty wear, 
 
 And while the dying day reluctant treads 
 
 From tree-top unto tree-top, with me share 
 
 The scene's idyllic peace, the evening's close, 
 
 The balm of twilight, and the land's repose. 
 * * % * *■ * * 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE. 
 
 UNDER the greenwood tree, Who doth ambition shun, 
 
 Who loves to lie with me, And loves to live in the sun, 
 
 And tune his merry note Seeking the*food he eats, 
 
 Unto the sweet bird's throat ? And pleased with what he gets ? 
 
 Come hither, come hither, come hither ; Come hither, come hither, come hither 
 Here shall we see Here shall we see 
 
 No enemy No enemy 
 
 But winter and rough weather. But winter and rough weather. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 TREES OF CORN. 
 
 THE child looked out upon the field The mother from the window looked 
 
 And said with a little cry: Out in the rosy morn, 
 
 " Mamma, what is it makes the grass " What makes the grass grow up so high ? 
 
 Grow up so big and high?" Why, those are trees of corn." 
 
 " What, trees of corn ? " said the happy child, 
 
 Within the nursery walls, 
 " Are those the kind of trees that bear 
 The great big pop-corn balls?" 
 Gocd Cheer. 
 
9 2 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE PINE. 
 
 ALL outward wisdom yields to that within, 
 Whereof nor creed nor canon holds the key 
 We only feel that we have ever been, 
 And evermore shall be. 
 
 And thus I know, by memories unfurled 
 
 In rarer moods, and many a nameless sign, 
 
 That once in Time, and somewhere in the world, 
 I was a towering Pine, 
 
 Rooted upon a cape that overhung 
 
 The entrance to a mountain gorge ; whereon 
 The wintry shade of a peak was flung, 
 
 Long after rise of sun. 
 
 There did I clutch the granite with firm feet, 
 
 There shake my boughs above the roaring gulf, 
 
 When mountain whirlwinds through the passes beat, 
 And howled the mountain wolf. 
 
 There did I louder sing than all the floods 
 
 Whirled in white foam adown the precipice, 
 
 And the sharp sleet that stung the naked woods 
 Answer with sullen hiss : 
 
 But when the peaceful clouds rose white and high 
 On blandest airs that April skies could bring, 
 
 Through all my fibres thrilled the tender sigh, 
 The sweet unrest of spring. 
 
 She with warm fingers laced in mine, did melt 
 
 In fragrant balsam my reluctant blood ; 
 And with a smart of keen delight I felt 
 
 The sap in every bud, 
 
 And tingled through my rough old bark, and fast 
 
 Pushed out the younger green, that smoothed my tones, 
 
 When last year's needles to the wind I cast, 
 And shed my scaly cones. 
 
 I held the eagle till the mountain mist 
 
 Rolled from the azure paths he came to soar, 
 
 And like a hunter, on my gnarled wrist 
 The dappled falcon bore. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 93 
 
 Poised o'er the blue abyss, the morning lark 
 Sang, wheeling near in rapturous carouse; 
 
 And hart and hind, soft pacing through the dark, 
 Slept underneath my boughs. 
 
 I felt the mountain walls below me shake, 
 
 Vibrant with sound, and through my branches poured 
 The glorious gust : my song thereto did make 
 
 Magnificent accord. 
 
 Some blind harmonic instinct pierced the rind 
 
 Of that slow life which made me straight and high ; 
 
 And I became a harp for every wind, 
 A voice for every sky ; 
 
 When fierce autumnal gales began to blow, 
 
 Roaring all day in concert, hoarse and deep ; 
 
 And then made silent with my weight of snow — 
 A spectre on the steep; 
 
 And thus for centuries my rhythmic chant 
 
 Rolled down the gorge, or surged about the hill : 
 
 Gentle, or stern, or sad, or jubilant, 
 At every season's will. 
 
 No longer memory whispers whence arose 
 
 The doom that tore me from my place of pride : 
 
 Whether the storms that load the peak with snows 
 And start the mountain slide, 
 
 Let fall a fiery bolt to smite my top, 
 
 Upwrenched my roots, and o'er the precipice 
 
 Hurled me, a dangling wreck, erelong to drop 
 Into the wild abyss; 
 
 Or whether hands of men. with scornful strength 
 And force from Nature's rugged armory lent, 
 
 Sawed through my heart and rolled my tumbling length, 
 Sheer down the deep descent. 
 
 All sense departed with the boughs I wore; 
 
 And though I moved with mighty gales at strife, 
 A mast upon the seas, I sang no more, 
 
 And music was my life. 
 
94 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Yet still that life awakens, brings again 
 
 Its airy anthems, resonant and long, 
 Till Earth and Sky, transfigured, fill my brain 
 
 With rhythmic sweeps of song. 
 
 Thence am I made a poet: thence are sprung 
 
 Those motions of the soul, that sometimes reach 
 
 Beyond the grasp of Art,— for which the tongue 
 Is ignorant of speech. 
 
 And if some wild, full-gathered harmony 
 
 Roll its unbroken music through my line, 
 There lives and murmurs, faintly though it be, 
 
 The Spirit of the Pine. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 MONTH OF MAY. 
 
 HERE I am, and how do you do? I've a store of treasures rare 
 
 I've come afar to visit you. Laid away with greatest care — 
 
 Little children, glad and free, Days of sunshine, song and flowers, 
 
 Are you ready now for me ? — Earth made into fairy bowers ! 
 I'm the month of May ! I'm the month of May ! 
 
 In my loaded trunk I bring 
 Bees to buzz and birds to sing: 
 Flowers to fill the balmy air, 
 Violets are hiding there ! — 
 I'm the month of May ! 
 Youth's Compci7iion. 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN AND THE SQUIRREL. 
 
 THE mountain and the squirrel And I think it no disgrace 
 
 Had a little quarrel ; To occupy my place. 
 
 And the former called the latter " Little You are not as small as I, 
 
 Prig." And not half so spry. 
 
 Bun replied : I'll not deny -VOvP/kt • 
 
 " You are doubtless very big; You make a ve^ pretty squirrel 4*ap, 
 
 But all sorts of things and weather Talents differ; all is well and wisely 
 Must be taken in together, put ; 
 
 To make up a year, If I cannot carry forests on my back, 
 
 And a sphere. Neither can you crack a nut." 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 95 
 
 THE OAK OF OUR FATHERS. 
 
 ALAS for the Oak of our Fathers, that stood, 
 In its beauty, the glory and pride of the wood ! 
 
 It grew and it flourished for many an age, 
 
 And many a tempest wreaked on it its rage; 
 
 But, when its strong branches were bent with the blast, 
 
 It struck its root deeper, and flourished more fast. 
 
 Its head towered on high, and its branches spread round ; 
 For its roots had struck deep, and its heart was sound; 
 The bees o'er its honey-dewed foliage played, 
 And the beasts of the forest fed under its shade. 
 
 The Oak of our Fathers to Freedom was dear ; 
 Its leaves were her crown, and its wood was her spear. 
 Alas for the Oak of our Fathers, that stood, 
 "In its beauty, the glory and pride of the wood ! 
 
 There crept up an ivy, and ciung round the trunk ; 
 It struck in its mouths, and its juices it drunk; 
 The branches grew sickly, deprived of their food, 
 And the Oak was no longer the pride of the wood. 
 
 The foresters saw, and they gathered around; 
 The roots still were fast, and the heart still was sound; 
 They lopt off the boughs that so beautiful spread, 
 But the ivy they spared on its vitals that fed. 
 
 No longer the bees o'er its honey-dews played, 
 Nor the beasts of the forest fed under its shade; 
 Lopt and mangled, the trunk in its ruin is seen, 
 A monument now what its beauty has been. 
 
 The Oak has received its incurable wound ; 
 
 They have loosened the roots, though the heart may be sound ; 
 
 What the travelers at distance green-flourishing see, 
 
 Are the leaves of the ivy that poisoned the tree. 
 
 Alas for the Oak of our Fathers, that stood 
 In its beauty, the glory and pride of the wood ! 
 
 Robert Southey, 179S. 
 
 " First, in green apparel dancing, 
 The young spring smiled with angel grace." 
 
 Thomas Campbell. 
 
96 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE BOBOLINK. 
 
 ONCE, on a golden afternoon, 
 With radiant faces and hearts in tune, 
 
 Two fond lovers in dreaming mood, 
 
 Threaded a rural solitude. 
 Wholly happy, they only knew 
 That the earth was bright and the sky was blue, 
 
 That light and beauty and joy and song 
 
 Charmed the way as they passed along ; 
 The air was fragrant with woodland scents ; 
 The squirrel frisked on the roadside fence ; 
 
 And hovering near them, "chee, chee, chink? 
 
 Queried the curious bobolink, 
 Pausing and peering with sidelong head, 
 As saucily questioning all they said ; 
 
 While the ox-eye danced on its slender stem, 
 
 And all glad nature rejoiced with them. 
 
 Over the odorous fields were strewn 
 
 Wilting winrows of grass new mown, 
 
 And rosy billows of clover bloom 
 
 Surged in the sunshine and breathed perfume. 
 
 Swinging low on a slender limb, 
 
 The sparrow warbled his wedding hymn, 
 
 And balancing on a blackberry briar, 
 The bobolink sang with his heart on fire :- 
 "Chink ! If you wish to kiss her, do ! 
 
 Do it ! do it ! You coward, you ! 
 
 Kiss her ! kiss her ! Who will see ? 
 Only we three ! we three ! we three ! " 
 
 Tender garlands of drooping vines, 
 
 Through dim vistas of sweet-breathed pines, 
 
 Past wide meadow fields, lately mowed, 
 Wandering the indolent country road, 
 
 The lovers followed it, listening still, 
 
 And loitering slowly, as lovers will, 
 
 Entered a gray-roofed bridge that lay 
 Dusk and cool in their pleasant way. 
 
 Under its arch a smooth, brown stream, 
 
 Silently glided with glint and gleam, 
 
 Shaded by graceful elms, which spread 
 Their verdurous canopy overhead, — 
 
 The stream so narrow, the bough so wide, 
 
 They met and mingled across the tide. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 97 
 
 Alders loved it, and seemed to keep 
 Patient watch as it lay asleep, 
 Mirroring clearly the trees and sky, 
 And the flitting form of the dragon fly, 
 
 Save where the swift-winged swallow played 
 In and out in the sun and shade, 
 And darting and circling in merry chase, 
 Dipped and dimpled its clear, dark face. 
 
 Fluttering lightly from brink to brink, 
 
 Followed the garrulous bobolink, 
 
 Rallying loudly with mirthful din, 
 The pair who lingered unseen within. 
 
 And when from the friendly bridge at last 
 
 Into the road beyond they passed, 
 
 Again beside them the tempter went, 
 Keeping the thread of his argument — 
 "Kiss her! kiss her ! chink-a-chee-chee ! 
 
 I'll not mention it ' Don't mind me! 
 I'll be sentinel — I can see 
 All around from this tall birch tree ! " 
 
 But ah ! they noted — nor deemed it strange — 
 
 In his rollicking chorus a trifling change : 
 
 " Do it ! do it ! " — with might and main 
 
 Warbled the tell-tale — " kiss her again! " 
 The Aldine. 
 
 
 
 TWO LITTLE ROSES. 
 
 NE merry summer day They stole along my fence ; 
 
 Two roses were at play; They clambered up my wall ; 
 
 All at once they took a notion They climbed into my window 
 
 They would like to run away ! To make a morning call ! 
 
 Queer little roses ; Queer little roses ; 
 
 Funny little roses, Funny little roses, 
 
 To want to run away ! To make a morning call ! 
 St. Nicholas, 1888. Julia P. Ballard. 
 
 "Our ships were British oak, 
 And hearts of oak our men." 
 
 S. J. Arnold's Death of Nelson. 
 
 7 
 
98 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL 
 
 w 
 
 THE PALM AND THE PINE. 
 
 HEN Peter led the first Crusade, The planning Reason's sober gaze, 
 
 A Norseman wooed an Arab maid. And Fancy's meteoric blaze. 
 
 He loved her lithe and palmy grace, 
 And the dark beauty of her face. 
 
 She loved his cheeks, so ruddy fair, 
 His sunny eyes and yellow hair. 
 
 He called; she left her father's tent ; 
 She followed whereso'er he went. 
 
 She left the palms of Palestine 
 To sit beneath the Norland pine. 
 
 She sang the musky Orient strains 
 Where winter swept the snowy plains. 
 
 Their natures met like Night and Morn 
 What time the morning star is born. 
 
 And stronger as he grew to man, 
 The contradicting natures ran, — 
 
 As mingled streams from Etna flow, 
 One born of fire, and one of snow. 
 
 And one impelled, and one withheld. 
 And one obeyed, and one rebelled. 
 
 One gave him force, the other fire; 
 This self-control, and that desire. 
 
 One filled his heart with fierce unrest: 
 With peace serene the other blessed. 
 
 He knew the depth and knew the height, 
 The bounds of darkness and of light; 
 
 The child that from their meeting grew 
 Huns like a star between the two. 
 
 And who these far extremes has seen 
 Must needs know all that lies between. 
 
 The glossy night his mother shed 
 From her long hair was on his head: 
 
 But in its shade they saw arise 
 The morning of his father's eyes. 
 
 Beneath the Orient's tawny stain 
 
 Wandered the Norseman's crimson vein. The hardest lesson was his own. 
 
 So, with untaught, instinctive art 
 He read the myriad-natured heart. 
 
 He met the men of many a land; 
 They gave their souls into his hand; 
 
 And none of them was long unknown; 
 
 Beneath the Northern force was seen 
 The Arab sense, alert and keen. 
 
 His were the Viking's sinewy hands, 
 The arching foot of Eastern lands. 
 
 And in his soul conflicting strove 
 Northern indifference, Southern love; 
 
 The chastity of temperate blood, 
 Impetuous passion's fiery flood; 
 
 The settled faith that nothing shakes, 
 The jealousy a breath awakes; 
 
 But how he lived, and where, and when, 
 It matters not to other men; 
 
 For, as a fountain disappears, 
 To gush again in later years, 
 
 So hidden blood may find the day, 
 When centuries have rolled awaj: 
 
 And fresher lives betray at last 
 The lineage of a far-off Past. 
 
 That nature, mixed of sun and snow, 
 Repeats its ancient ebb and flow: 
 
 The children of the Palm and Pine 
 Renew their blended lives — in mine. 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 99 
 
 THE PATRIOT'S PASSWORD. 
 
 ****** 
 
 In arms the Austrian phalanx stood, 
 
 A living wall, a human wood ! — 
 
 A wall, where ever)' conscious stone 
 
 Seemed to its kindred thousands grown ; 
 
 A rampart all assaults to bear, 
 
 Till time to dust their frames should wear 
 
 A wood, — like that enchanted grove 
 In which with fiends Rinaldo strove, 
 Where every silent tree possessed 
 A spirit imprisoned in its breast, 
 Which the first stroke of coming strife 
 Might startle into hideous life : 
 
 So still, so dense the Austrians stood, 
 A living wall, a human wood ! 
 Impregnable their front appears, 
 All-horrent with projected spears, 
 Whose polished points before them shine, 
 From flank to flank, one brilliant line, 
 Bright as the breakers' splendors run 
 Along the billows to the sun. 
 
 ***** 
 
 " Make wa)^ for liberty ! " he cried, 
 
 Then ran with arms extended wide, 
 
 As if his dearest friend to clasp ; 
 
 Ten spears he swept within his grasp: 
 " Make way for liberty ! " he cried, 
 
 Their keen points crossed from side to side 
 
 He bowed amidst them, like a tree, 
 
 And thus made way for liberty. 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 YOUNG TIMOTHY AND THE FORGET-ME-NOTS. 
 
 YOUNG Timothy crept to the old meadow bars, 
 And between the brown rails peeping through, 
 Saw, — what do 3'ou think, — on the opposite side ? 
 Two eyes of the prettiest blue. 
 
 Two eyes of the prettiest, bluest of blue, 
 
 For-get-me-nots hid in the grass ; 
 But he couldn't climb over, and couldn't crawl through, 
 And he's peeping, still peeping, alas ! 
 St. Nicholas, 1888. Estelle Thomson. 
 
IOO ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 BIRDS IN SUMMER. 
 
 HOW pleasant the life of a bird must be, 
 Flitting about in each leafy tree, — 
 In the leafy trees, so broad and tall, 
 Like a green and beautiful palace hall, 
 With its airy chambers, light and boon, 
 That open to sun and stars and moon ! 
 That open unto the bright blue sky, 
 And the frolicsome winds as they wander by ! 
 
 They have left their nests in the forest bough, 
 Those homes of delight they need not now ; 
 And the young and the old they wander out, 
 And traverse their green world round about ; 
 And hark ! at the top of this leafy hall, 
 How one to the other they lovingly call : 
 "Come up, come up!" they seem to say, 
 "When the topmost twigs in the breezes sway." 
 
 " Come up, come up ! for the world is fair 
 When the merry leaves dance in the summer air. 
 And the birds below give back the cry, 
 
 "We come, we come to the branches high !" 
 How pleasant the life of a bird must be, 
 Flitting about in a leafy tree ! 
 And away through the air what joy to go, 
 And to look on the bright green earth below ! 
 
 What joy it must be, like a living breeze, 
 To flutter about 'mid the flowering trees ; 
 Lightly to soar, and to see beneath 
 The wastes of the blossoming purple heath, 
 And the yellow furze, like fields of gold 
 That gladdened some fairy region old ! 
 On the mountain tops, on the billowy sea, 
 On the leafy stems of the forest tree, 
 How pleasant the life of a bird must be ! 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 " Give me again my hollow tree 
 A crust of bread, and liberty !" 
 
 Pope, Imitations of Horace. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. IOI 
 
 IN THE SWING. 
 
 HERE we go to the branches high ! 
 Here we come to the branches low ! 
 For the spiders and flowers and birds and I 
 Love to swing when the breezes blow. 
 Swing, little bird, on the topmost bough ; 
 Swing, little spider, with rope so fine; 
 Swing, little flower, for the wind blows now ; 
 
 But none of you have such a swing as mine. 
 
 Dear little bird, come sit on my toes ; 
 
 I'm just as careful as I can be; 
 And oh. I tell you, nobody knows 
 
 What fun we'd have if you'd play with me ! 
 Come and swing with me, birdie dear, 
 
 Bright little flower, come swing in my hair; 
 But you, little spider, creepy and queer, — 
 
 You'd better stay and swing over there ! 
 
 The sweet little bird, he sings and sings, 
 
 But he doesn't even look in my face ; 
 The bright little blossom swings and swings, 
 
 But still it swings in the self-same place. 
 Let them stay where they like it best ; 
 
 Let them do what they'd rather do; 
 My swing is nicer than all the rest, 
 
 But may be it's rather small for two. 
 
 Here we go to the branches high ! 
 
 Here we come to the grasses low ! 
 For the spiders and flowers and birds and I 
 
 Love to swing when the breezes blow. 
 Swing, little bird, on the topmost bough ; 
 
 Swing, little spider, with rope so fine ; 
 Swing, little flower, for the wind blows now ; 
 
 But none of you have such a swing as mine. 
 St. Nicholas, 1888. Eudora S. Bumstead. 
 
 " Music hath charms to sooth a savage breast, 
 To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak." 
 
 Congreve's The Mourning Bride. 
 
 ''The sweet Elcaya and that courteous tree 
 Which bows to all who seek its canopy.'' 
 
 Moore's Lalla Rookh. 
 
102 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 SOMEBODY'S KNOCKING. 
 
 THERE'S somebody knocking. Hark ! who can it be ? 
 It's. not at the door ! no, it's in the elm tree. 
 I hear it again ; it goes rat-a-tat-tat ! 
 Now, what in the world is the meaning of that? 
 
 I think I can tell you. Ah, yes ! it is he: 
 It's young Master Woodpecker, gallant and free. 
 He's dressed very handsomely {rat-a-tat-tat), 
 Just like a young dandy, so comely and fat. 
 
 He's making his visits this morning, you see : 
 
 Some friends of his live in that elm tree ; 
 
 And, as trees have no door-bells (rat-a-tat-tat), 
 
 Of course he must knock : what is plainer than that ? 
 
 Now old Madam Bug hears him rap at her door : 
 Why doesn't she come ? Does she think him a bore ? 
 She stays in her chamber, and keeps very still. 
 I guess she's afraid that he's bringing a bill. 
 
 "I've seen you before, my good master," says she: 
 "Although I'm a bug, sir, you can't humbug me. 
 Rap on, if you please ! at your rapping I laugh, 
 I'm too old a bug to be caught with your chaff." 
 The Nursery. 
 
 MY TREE. 
 
 WHICH is the best of all the trees ? 
 Answer me, children all, if you please. 
 Is it the oak, the king of the wood, 
 That for a hundred years has stood ? 
 The graceful elm, or the stately ash, 
 Or the aspen, whose leaflets shimmer and flash? 
 
 Is it the solemn and gloomy pine, 
 
 With its million needles so sharp and fine? 
 
 Ah, no ! The tree that I love best, 
 
 It buds and blossoms not with the rest; 
 
 No summer sun on its fruit has smiled, 
 
 But the ice and snow are around it piled ; 
 
 But still it will bloom and bear fruit for me, 
 
 My winter bloomer ! my Christmas tree ! 
 
 Youttis Companion. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. IO3 
 
 PEACH BLOSSOMS. 
 
 FOR RECITATION. 
 
 COME here ! come here ! cousin Mary and see 
 What fair, ripe peaches there are on the tree — 
 On the very same bough that was given to me 
 
 By father, one day last spring. 
 When it looked so beautiful, all in the blow, 
 And I wanted to pluck it, he told me, you know, 
 I might, but that waiting a few months would show 
 The fruit that patience might bring. 
 
 And as I perceived by the sound of his voice, 
 And the look of his eye, it was clearly his choice 
 That it should not be touched, I have now to rejoice 
 
 That I told him we'd let it remain ; 
 For, had it been gathered when full in the flower, 
 Its blossoms had withered, perhaps in an hour, 
 And nothing on earth could have given the power 
 
 That would make them flourish again. 
 
 But now, of a fruit so delicious and sweet 
 
 I've enough for myself and my playmates a treat , 
 
 They tell me besides, that the kernels secrete 
 What, if planted, will make other trees : 
 
 For the shell will come open to let down the root ; 
 
 A sprout will spring up, whence the branches will shoot; 
 
 There'll be buds, leaves, and blossoms; and then comes the fruit- 
 Such beautiful peaches as these ! 
 
 And Nature, they say, like a mighty machine, 
 
 Has a wheel in a wheel, which, if aught comes between, 
 
 It ruins her work, as it might have been seen, 
 
 Had it not given patience this trial. 
 From this, I'll be careful to keep it in mind, 
 When the blossoms I love, that there lingers behind 
 A better reward, that the trusting shall find 
 
 For a trifling self-denial. 
 
 Hannah F. Gould. 
 
 " Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees, 
 Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze." 
 
 Cowper. Tirocinuim, Line 43. 
 
 The church was beautifully decorated with sweet spring flowers and the air 
 was heavy with their fragrance. As the service was about to begin, small 
 Kitty pulled her mother's sleeve : "Oh, mamma, don't it smell solemn ?" 
 
104 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE STORM IN THE FOREST. 
 
 THE storm in the forest is rending and sweeping; 
 While tree after tree bows its stately green head ; 
 The flowerets beneath them are bending and weeping; 
 
 And leaves, torn and trembling, all round them are spread. 
 
 The bird that had roamed, till she thinks her benighted, 
 Dismayed, hastens back to her home in the wood; 
 
 And flags not a wing, till her bosom, affrighted, 
 
 Has laid its warm down o'er her own little brood. 
 
 And they, since that fond one so quickly has found them, 
 To shelter their heads from the rain and the blast, 
 
 Shall fearless repose, while the bolts burst around them; 
 And lie calm and safe, till the darkness is past. 
 
 Hast thou, too, not felt, when the tempest was drearest, 
 
 And rending thy covert, or shaking thy rest, 
 Thine own blessed angel that moment the nearest — 
 
 Thy screen in his pinion — thy shield in his breast ? 
 
 When clouds frowned the darkest, and perils beset thee, 
 Till each prop of earth seemed to bend, or to break, 
 
 Did e'er thy good angel turn off. and forget thee ? 
 The mother her little ones, then, may forsake ! 
 
 Ah, no ! thou shalt feel thy protector the surer — 
 The sun, in returning, more cheering and warm; 
 
 And all things around thee, seem fresher and purer, 
 
 And touched with new glory, because of the storm ! 
 
 Hannah F. Gould. 
 
 GOD'S WISDOM AND POWER. 
 
 THERE'S not a tint that paints the rose, There's not of grass a single blade 
 Or decks the lily fair, Or tree of loveliest green, 
 
 Or streaks the humblest flower that blows, Where Heavenly skill is not displayed, 
 But God has placed it there. And Heavenly wisdom seen. 
 
 There's not a place in earth's vast round 
 
 "in ocean's deep or air, 
 Where skill and wisdom are not found, 
 
 For God is everywhere. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 105 
 
 MAY DAY. 
 
 OH, 'tis bland, and oh, 'tis blooming, for it's May; 
 Could there be a more delightful season, pray ? 
 How the sunbeams skip and scatter, 
 And the sparrows chirp and chatter, 
 And the sweetly scented breezes softly stray ! 
 And we're gladsome, and we're gleeful, and we're gay, 
 And we're highly happy-hearted, 
 For we're blithely briskly started 
 For a joyful, jocund, jolly holiday. 
 
 And oh, 'tis glum and gloomy, though "tis May ! 
 Could there be a more distracting season, say? 
 We must hustle, we must hurry, 
 In a flutter and a flurry, 
 For the sky is direly dark and grimly gray, 
 And we'll have to hasten home the shortest way ; 
 And we scuttle and we scamper! 
 What a doleful, dismal damper ! 
 What a dreary, drizzly, dreadful holiday ! 
 St. Nicholas, 18S8. EMMA A. Opper. 
 
 M 
 
 EVE'S LAMENTATION. 
 
 UST I thus leave thee Paradise ! thus leave 
 Thee, native soil ! these happy walks and shades, 
 Fit haunt of Gods ! where I had hoped to spend, 
 Quiet though sad, the respite of that day 
 That must be mortal to us both ! O flow'rs, 
 That never will in other climate grow, 
 My earl)'' visitation, and my last 
 At e'en, which I bred up with tender hand 
 From the first opening bud, and gave ye names, 
 Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
 Your tribes, and water from th' ambrosial fount? 
 The lastly, nuptial bower ! by me adorn'd 
 With what to sight or smell was sweet, from thee 
 How shall I part, and whither wander down 
 Into a lower world, to this obscure 
 And wild ? How shall we breathe in other air, 
 Less pure, accustom'd to immortal fruits ? 
 
 Milton's " Paradise Lost." 
 
I06 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Written for the Ardor Day Manual. 
 
 LIFE IN ITS SPRING-TIME. 
 
 FOR A BOY'S RECITATION. 
 
 "TMS the time to be cheerful, when nature is gay, 
 1 And others are bearing our burdens of care, 
 The bright morning-glories of life's coming day, 
 All vie with the beauties and blossoms of May, 
 Tis life in its spring-time all beauty and fair. 
 
 Tis the time to be thankful, with guardians blest, 
 
 Whose loves are as deep as the depths of the sea, 
 
 When earth is new-robing and clad in her best ; 
 
 In the anthem's loud swell we will join with the rest 
 With ever the chorus : — " the land of the free." 
 
 'Tis the seed-time whose harvest the autumn shall bring, 
 When treasures most precious we give to the soil, 
 
 And trust to the nurture and vigor of spring 
 
 While firm to the promise we joyfully cling,— 
 
 That the sower shall reap the rich fruit of his toil. 
 
 With nature's great soul 'tis the time to commune, 
 
 From the harmony outward, our thoughts turn within, 
 
 To know if the voices of each are in tune ; 
 
 That the sweet buds of May bear the roses of June, 
 And joy crown the harvest of sheaves gathered in. 
 
 'Tis the spring-time of youth, with the birds and the bowers; 
 
 The seeding and budding, the fruit we must reap. 
 Not all of our life will be sunshine and flowers ; 
 But through summer and autumn the best will be ours, 
 If to nature we're true, and her harmony keep. 
 Watertown, N. Y. E. A. Holbrook. 
 
 CHERRY RIPE. 
 
 (adapted.) 
 
 MAY time ! May time ! " Cherry ripe ! cherry ripe ! " 
 
 Hear the robins sing Happy children shout, 
 
 All through the cherry boughs Under the sunny skies :— 
 
 Flits the restless wing. What a jolly rout ! 
 
 Bobolink ! come and drink Take your fill ; — pay no bill, 
 
 Wine from goblets red, Cherries ripe are free ; — 
 
 Such a chatter ; what's the matter Bob and robin have a party 
 
 In the boughs o'erhead ? In the cherry tree. 
 
 Kate L. Brown. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 107 
 
 DEAR DANDELION. 
 
 (ADAPTED.) 
 
 WINTER is over ! summer is coming ! 
 May time is with us, so balmy and sweet ! 
 All creatures feel it, all things reveal it, 
 
 Soft skies above us, green grass at our feet. 
 
 Winter is ended, summer is coming ! 
 
 May day and robin and crocus are here ! 
 Green grows the clover ! still I roam over 
 
 Garden and meadow for something more dear. 
 
 Must I confess it? Surely you guess it, 
 
 Dearest of flowers to the heart of a child ; 
 
 If I confide it, do not deride it, 
 
 Call it not weed, dear, because it is wild! 
 ****** 
 
 Foliage ragged — ever invading 
 
 Terrace and lawn in spite of yoxxx care; 
 When you're least thinking, up they come winking, 
 
 Laugh in your face with the jolliest air. 
 
 Duly at sunset droop the soft fringes, 
 
 Only some little green tassels remain ; 
 But with the dawning, bright as the morning, 
 
 Golden and saucy they bloom out again, 
 
 ****** 
 
 Crocus, arbutus, violet, snow-drop, 
 
 Others may praise them, and love them the best, 
 Give me my olden favorite golden ! 
 
 Dear Dandelion ! You're worth all the rest ! 
 Wide Awake, August, 18S6. Laura D. Nichols. 
 
 THE RETURN OF SPRING. 
 
 * * * * * Is it a spike of azure flowers, 
 
 A SPIRIT of beauty walks the hills, Deep in the meadows seen, 
 
 A spirit of love the plain; Or is it the peacock's neck that towers 
 
 The shadows are bright, and the sunshine fills Out of the spangled green ? 
 
 The air with a diamond rain ! 
 
 Is a white dove glancing across the blue, 
 
 Before my vision the glories swim, Or an opal taking wing ? 
 
 To the dance of a tune unheard: For my soul is dazzled through and through, 
 
 Is an angel singing where woods are dim, With the splendor of the Spring. 
 
 Or is it an amorous bird ? 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
Iq8 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 UNDER THE APPLE-TREE. 
 
 IN a home-nest of peace and joy, 
 Bright and pleasant as a home can be, 
 Lives a merry and sweet-faced boy 
 
 Under a broad old apple-tree. 
 Searching wide, you will seldom meet 
 
 Child so blithesome and fair as he, — 
 How can he help being pretty and sweet, 
 Dwelling under an apple-tree ? 
 
 In the spring when the child goes out, 
 
 Glad as a bird that winter 's past, 
 Making his flower-beds all about, 
 
 Liking best what he finished last; 
 Then the tree from each blossomy limb 
 
 Heaps its petals about its feet, 
 And like a benison above him 
 
 Scatters its fragrances, sweet to sweet. 
 
 In the summer the dear old tree 
 
 Spreads above him its cooling shade, 
 Keeping the heat'from his cheek, while he, 
 
 Playing at toil with rake and spade, 
 Chasing the humming-bird's gleam and dart, 
 
 Watching the honey-bees drink and doze, 
 Gathers in body and soul and heart, 
 
 Beauty and health like an opening rose. 
 
 In the autumn, before the leaves 
 
 Lose, their greenness, the apples fall, 
 Roll on the roof, and bounce from the eaves, 
 
 Pile on the porch, and rest on the wall ; 
 Then he heaps on the grassy ground 
 
 Rosy pyramids brave to see ; 
 How can he help being ruddy and sound, 
 
 Dwelling under an apple-tree? 
 
 In the winter, when winds are wild, 
 
 Then, still faithful, the sturdy tree 
 Keeps its watch o'er the darling child, 
 
 Telling him tales of the May to be ; 
 Teaching him faith under stormy skies, 
 
 Bidding him trust when he cannot see ; 
 How can he help being happy and wise, 
 
 Dwelling under an apple-tree ? 
 
 Elizabeth Akers Allen. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 IO9 
 
 MARY AND HER PET SQUIRREL. 
 
 DO you think my pet squirrel will go quite away, 
 If I let him be free just for one short day ? 
 So bland is the sun, and so genial the air, 
 It is cruel in me to imprison him there. 
 
 ' If I let him go once to the old chestnut-tree, 
 Don't you think, by to-night, he'll come back to me ? " 
 So said little Mary, as I chanced to go by, 
 And the inquiry glanced from her lip and her eye. 
 
 It did seem quite hard, such a beautiful day, 
 To keep the pet squirrel in a cage-house to play ; 
 So I told her the squirrel would come back again, 
 When the shadows of evening fell over the glen ; 
 He would tire of the oak and the murmuring rill, 
 And think his snug prison-house pleasanter still. 
 
 So she lifted the latch of the prison-house door, 
 When a doubt flitted over her features once more. 
 ' I don't know," Mary said, " I feel half afraid, 
 He remembers too keenly the forest-tree's shade ; 
 On the gray mountain's brow, when the night-shadows fall, 
 Perhaps he won't come at my evening call." 
 
 'No matter, — I'll try, — and I hope he loves me 
 Far more than the nuts on the old chestnut-tree." 
 So she opened the door, and the squirrel popped out, 
 And whisked his long tail as he capered about. 
 
 He bobbed his pert head, and looked out of his eye 
 With a mischievous wink, which said plainly, "Good-by; " 
 And his swift, little feet, as they pattering ran, 
 Sent back a defiance, " Now catch if you can ! " 
 
 Now dear little Mary looked ruefully on, 
 When she saw that the squirrel had really gone. 
 Till her bright eye was weary with tracing his track, 
 And she-said to herself, " I hope he'll come back." 
 
 Well, she hoped, and she watched, and the evening came, 
 And she listened to hear him respond to his name ; 
 With her locks all flung back, and her animate eye 
 Rambling o'er the brown hillocks, her squirrel to spy ; 
 But he came not with night, and night came so fast, 
 That her hope all forsaken, she resigned it, at last. 
 
t IO ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 But whether in wild-wood, or shadowy glen, 
 
 The squirrel had found him a shelter again ; 
 
 Or whether, as some of our neighbors still say, 
 
 He fell to the hunter's sure rifle a prey, 
 
 Most certain it is that he never returned 
 
 To the hand which caressed him, the home which he spurned 
 
 And Mary, as she looks on his tenantless pen, 
 
 Says, " I never will trust a tame squirrel again ! " 
 
 THE SUNBEAM. 
 
 THOU art no lingerer in monarch's hall : 
 A joy thou art and a wealth to all ; 
 A bearer of hope unto land and sea : 
 Sunbeam, what gift hath the world like thee ? 
 
 Thou art walking the billows, and ocean smiles ; 
 Thou hast touched with glory his thousand isles ; 
 Thou hast lit up the ships, and the feathery foam, 
 And gladdened the sailor like words from home. 
 
 To the solemn depths of the forest shades 
 Thou art streaming on through their green arcades, 
 And the quivering leaves that have caught thy glow, 
 Like fireflies glance to the pool below. 
 
 I looked on the mountains : a vapor lay 
 Folding their heights in its dark array ; 
 Thou breakest, and the mist became 
 A crown and a mantle of living flame. 
 
 I looked on the peasant's lowly cot : 
 Something of sadness had wrapped the spot; 
 But a gleam of thee on its casement fell, 
 And it laughed into beauty at that bright spell. 
 
 Sunbeam of summer, O, what is like thee, 
 
 Hope of the wilderness, joy of the sea ? 
 
 One thing is like thee, to mortals given — 
 
 The faith touching all things with hues of heaven. 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 " The trees were gazing up into the sky, 
 Their bare arms stretched in prayer for the snows." 
 
 Alex. Smith. — u A Life Drama." 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 1 1 1 
 
 A LITTLE PLANTER. 
 
 DOWN by the wall where the lilacs grow, 
 Digging away with the garden hoe, 
 Toiling as busily as he can — 
 Eager and earnest, dear little man ! 
 Spoon and shingle are lying by. 
 With a bit of evergreen, long since dry. 
 
 "What are you doing, dear?" I ask. 
 
 Ted for an instant stops his task, 
 
 Glances up with a sunny smile 
 
 Dimpling his rosy cheeks, the while : 
 "Why, it is Arbor Day, you see, 
 
 And I'm planting a next year's Christmas-tree. 
 
 " For last year, auntie, Johnny Dunn 
 Didn't have even the smallest one ; 
 And I almost cried, he felt so bad, 
 When I told 'bout the splendid one we had ; 
 And 1 thought if I planted this one here, 
 And watered it every day this year, 
 It would grow real fast — I think it might ; 
 (His blue eyes fill with an eager light), 
 And I'm sure 'twill be, though very small, 
 A great deal better than nothing at all." 
 
 Then something suddenly comes between 
 My eyes and the bit of withered green, 
 As I kiss the face of our Teddy boy 
 Bright and glowing with giving's joy. 
 And Johnny Dunn, it is plain to see, 
 Will have his next year's Christmas-tree. 
 Youth's Companion. 
 
 'Now Nature hangs her mantle green 
 On every blooming tree." 
 
 Burns, Lament of Mary, Queen of Scots. 
 
 " Now the sun once more is glancing, 
 And the oak trees roar with joy." 
 
 Heine, Miscellaneous Poems, Germany, 1815. 
 
112 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE GARDEN ON THE SANDS. 
 
 ONCE, on a time, some little hands 
 Planted a garden on the sands; 
 And with a wish to keep it dry, 
 They raised a wall five inches high. 
 
 Within the wall and round the walks, 
 They made a fence of slender stalks ; 
 And then they formed an arbor cool, 
 And dug in front a tiny pool. 
 
 Their beds were oval, round and square, 
 Thrown up and trimmed with decent care: 
 In these they planted laurel twigs, 
 And prickly holly, little sprigs 
 Of ash and poplar, and, for show, 
 Bright daffodils and heart's ease low; 
 With pink-edged daises by the score, 
 And buttercups and many more. 
 
 * 
 
 One rose they found with great delight, 
 
 And set it round with lilies bright; 
 This finished, then they went away, 
 Resolved to come another day. 
 
 The sea, meanwhile, with solemn roar, 
 Approached and washed the sandy shore; 
 But, all this time, it did not touch 
 The little spot they loved so much. 
 
 The strangers that were passing b) r , 
 The garden viewed with smiling eye; 
 
 But no one ventured to disturb 
 A single plant, or flower or herb. 
 
 Still, when the children came again, 
 
 They found their labor all in vain; 
 
 The flowers were drooping side by side, 
 
 The rose and lilies all had died. 
 
 No one could make them grow or shoot, 
 
 Because they had not any root; 
 
 And then the soil, it was so bad, 
 
 They must have withered if they had. 
 
 Now, so it is that children fail, 
 Just like the garden in this tale; 
 They have good wishes, pleasant looks, 
 Are busy with their work and books; 
 Their conduct often gives delight, 
 And one would fancy all was right; 
 But, by and by, with sad surprise, 
 We see how all this goodness dies; 
 Instead of'being rich with fruit, 
 They fade away for want of root. 
 
 Oh ! pray that He who only can 
 Renew the heart of fallen man, 
 May plant you in His pleasant ground, 
 Where trees of righteousness abound; 
 So shall you be, in early youth, 
 ' Rooted and grounded in the truth." 
 
 MR. SPRING'S CONCERT. 
 
 A CONCERT once by Mr. Spring 
 Was given in the wood ; ' 
 
 He begged both old and young to come 
 
 And all to sing who could. 
 Miss Lark the music to begin, 
 Her favorite ballad sang, 
 A well-known air admired by all, 
 So clear her sweet voice rang. 
 
 And next a gentleman appeared, 
 
 Come lately from abroad, 
 His song was short but much admired, 
 
 And so it was encored. 
 He said that Cuckoo was his name, 
 
 His style was quite his own; 
 He sang most kindly while he stayed, 
 
 But all too soon was gone. 
 
 The Finches then were asked to sing,- 
 
 Would they get up a glee 
 With Mr. Linnet and his wife 
 
 Who sing so prettily? 
 And in the chorus many more 
 
 No doubt would take a part; 
 Young Blackcap has a splendid voice 
 
 And sings with all his heart. 
 
 Now came the much expected guest 
 
 Young Lady Nightingale, 
 So late that everybody feared 
 
 She really meant to fail. 
 At first she said she could not sing 
 
 She was afraid to try; 
 But then she sang, and all the air 
 
 Was filled with melody. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 "3 
 
 THE TREE THAT TRIED TO GROW. 
 
 ONE time there was a seed that wished to be a tree. It was fifty years ago, 
 and more than fifty — a hundred, perhaps. 
 
 But first there was a great bare granite rock in the midst of the Wendell 
 woods. Little by little, dust from a squirrel's paw, as he sat upon it eating a 
 nut; fallen leaves, crumbling and rotting r - and perhaps the decayed shell of 
 the nut, — made earth enough in the hollows of the rock for some mosses to 
 grow ; and for the tough little saxifrage flowers, which seem to thrive on the 
 poorest fare, and look all the healthier, like very poor children. 
 
 Then, one by one, the mosses and blossoms withered, and turned to dust; 
 until, after years, and years and years, there was earth enough to make a bed 
 for a little feathery birch seed which came flying along one day. 
 
 The sun shone softly through the forest trees ; the summer rain pattered 
 through the leaves upon it; and the seed felt wide awake and full of life. So it 
 sent a little, pale-green stem up into the air, and a little white root down into 
 the shallow bed of earth. But you would have been surprised to see how much 
 the root found to feed upon in only a handful of dirt. 
 
 Yes, indeed ! And it sucked and sucked away with its little hungry mouths, 
 till the pale-green stem became a small brown tree, and the roots grew tou°-h 
 and hard. 
 
 So, after a great many years, there stood a tall tree as big around as your body, 
 growing right upon a large rock, with its big roots striking into the ground on 
 all sides of the rock, like a queer sort of wooden cage. 
 
 Now, I do not believe there was ever a boy in this world who tried as hard to 
 grow into a wise, or a rich or a good man, as this birch seed did to grow into a 
 tree, that did not become what he wished to be. And I don't think anybody 
 who hears the story of the birch tree, growing in the woods of Wendell, need 
 ever give up to any sort of difficulty in his way, and say, "I can't." Only try 
 as hard as the tree did, and you can do every thing. 
 
 Francis Lee. 
 
 T 
 
 ELM BLOSSOM. 
 
 HE bloom of the elm is falling, On the sloping roof's brown thatching; 
 
 Falling hour by hour, And on the springing grass; 
 
 On the buds and the golden blossoms, On the dappled, meek-eyed cattle; 
 
 That are badges of spring's sweet power; On lover and on lass. 
 On the white throat little builder, 
 
 That, as he buildeth sings; With the rain and with the snow-flakes 
 
 On the chattering, glittering starling; The angel of the year 
 
 And on the swallow's wings. Comes with his swift wings glancing, 
 
 Bringing us hope or fear; 
 
 The bloom of the elm is falling, Now dying leaves, now blossoms, 
 
 Upon the passing bee; He scatters o'er the land: 
 
 And on the rosy clusters In storms and in the sunshine, 
 
 That stud the apple tree: I've seen his beckoning hand. 
 
 8 Hoars at Home. 
 
I 14 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Written for the "Ardor Day Manual." 
 
 NAMING THE TREE. 
 
 I'M a merry little maid 
 With my pick and hoe and spade, 
 
 And I'm digging, diggiwg, digging everywhere. 
 This little sapling lately stood 
 Within a dark and leafy wood, 
 
 And kept nodding, nodding at the maiden-hair; 
 While the moss kept creeping, creeping, 
 And the violets peeping, peeping, 
 
 With those longing eyes so tender and so blue. 
 
 But the sapling grew so slender, and I knew 
 'Twas for its good. I shut my eyes, 
 But oh ! you should have heard the sighs, 
 As blindly I with one rash blow, 
 Brought such terror and such woe 
 To the moss and maiden-hair 
 And the violets springing there. 
 
 I'm a merry little maid 
 
 With my pick and hoe and spade, 
 
 And I'm digging, digging, digging everywhere. 
 And on this pleasant Arbor Day, 
 Amid the perfumes of the May, 
 
 This sapling I transplant with tenderest care. 
 Let each with shovel in his hand, 
 Deposit here a bit of sand ; 
 
 Please don't harm the clinging maiden-hair so true, 
 
 Nor creeping moss with violets peeping through. 
 I wonder if 'neath sunn}'- skies 
 Will swell to heavenly rhapsodies 
 These youthful loves nursed in the wood? 
 Oh if they only, only could ! 
 Or do the giant oaks outgrow 
 Their sapling loves as people do ? 
 
 I'm a merry little maid ' 
 
 With my pick and hoe and spade, 
 
 And I'm digging, digging, digging everywhere. 
 Longfellow to his loves was true, 
 And we bequeath his name to you, 
 
 A noble name, an inspiration, royal, rare, 
 
 And may moss keep creeping, creeping, 
 And violets keep, peeping, peeping, 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 115 
 
 Emblems of the clinging loves his manhood knew. 
 May thy heart of oak like his be always true. 
 
 And may thy branches o'er us sway, 
 
 And in their rustling accents say, 
 
 Repeating oft, "A psalm of life, " 
 
 To us who come worn with the strife. 
 
 And may its wisdom guide our way 
 
 Until shall dawn our Arbor Day. 
 
 Suggestions by the author. 
 
 "Little Maid " enters the grounds with a small pick, hoe and spade, in her 
 hand, followed by her class. 
 
 They arrange themselves around the place where the tree is to be planted, in 
 the form of a half circle, if you please. 
 
 She now holds up to view the young tree, with moss, maiden hair and violets 
 clinging to its roots. 
 
 She begins speaking, holding the sapling until she says, "This sapling I 
 transplant," etc. 
 
 She now stands it in the hole prepared for it, and a young lad of the class — if 
 there be one, and if not, another girl — steps forward and steadies the tree while 
 one of the class steps forward and throws in some dirt, enough so it will stand 
 — only one shovel full if it will do — and steps back. After she has finished 
 her recitation, each member of the class in passing out will pick up the 
 shovel and deposit sand. After they have gone to their seats, the young boy 
 who was holding the tree up will recite Longfellow's " Psalm of Life," or some 
 other appropriate poem by the same author. 
 
 Or if thought best, let him recite it immediately after she is through, with the 
 class still standing. 
 
 St. Augustine, Fla. Mrs. B. C. Rude. 
 
 THE GOLDEN ROD. 
 
 FROM the flying train, behold, 
 Ever changing fields of gold, 
 Sunny slopes in luster laid, 
 And old gold the hills in shade; 
 Golden, golden ! Wave the plume, 
 Freedom's followers give thee room ; 
 Unsubdued by wit of man, 
 S3'mbol flower, American. 
 
 Like a bit of sky at night, 
 Full of constellation light, 
 Comes the vision of thy plume 
 Bending o'er with starry bloom, 
 Sunshine, dew and burnished gold, 
 Each declare the story old, 
 How in endless chain of thought 
 "Wisdom unto wonder wrought. 
 
 Symbol flow'r American, 
 Underneath I see thy plan — 
 Brotherhood of stems that run 
 Closer till they meet in one. 
 Type of higher federation — 
 States unite, and lo, a nation ! 
 To the world the lesson give, 
 How to govern, how to live. 
 
 Rich the bounty, here we see, 
 To a people ever free; 
 Plenty flows as beauty beams 
 In a thousand golden streams. 
 To a nation, golden rod 
 Lifts its head above the sod, 
 Love and justice to propose, 
 Gold for friends, the rod for foes. 
 
 Vick's Magazine. 
 
j j 6 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE DANDELION. 
 
 A RECITATION accompanied with music for nine little girls, four girls each 
 to recite a long paragraph, the short paragraphs to be recited in concert 
 by the other five girls. 
 
 All enter and sing first stanza of Gay Little Dandelion, from "The Vineyard 
 of Song." 
 
 First Girl recites: 
 
 There's a dandy little fellow, 
 Who dresses all in yellow, — 
 
 In yellow with an overcoat of green ; 
 With his hair all crisp and curly, 
 In the spring-time bright and early, 
 
 Tripping o'er the meadow he is seen. 
 
 Second Girl : 
 
 Through all the bright June weather, 
 
 Like a jolly little tramp, 
 He wanders o'er the hillside, down the road; 
 Around his yellow feather 
 
 The gypsy fire-flies camp; 
 His companions are the woodlark and the toad. 
 
 Five Girls recite in concert : 
 
 Spick and spandy, little dandy ; 
 
 Golden dancer in the dell ! 
 Green and yellow, happy fellow, 
 
 All the children love him well. 
 
 (All sing second stanza of Gay Little Dandelion.) 
 
 Third Girl: 
 
 But at last this little fellow, 
 Doffs his dandy coat of yellow, 
 
 And very feebly totters o'er the green; 
 For he very old is growing, 
 And with hair all white and flowing, 
 
 Nodding in the sunlight he is seen. 
 
 Fourth Girl : 
 
 The little winds of morning, 
 
 Come flying through the grass, 
 And clap their hands around him in their glee; 
 They shake him without warning — ■ 
 
 His wig falls off, alas ! 
 A little bald-head dandy now is he. 
 
 Five Girls recite in concert : 
 
 O poor dandy ! once so spandy, 
 
 Golden dancer on the lea ! 
 Older growing, white hair flowing, 
 
 Bald-head dandy now is he. 
 
 (All sing third stanza of Gay Little Dandelion.) 
 
Published by courtesy of Messrs. E. H. Butler £■ Co., Philadelphia. 
 
 THE OAK AND THE MISTLETOE SEED. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I I 7 
 
 THE OAK AND THE MISTLETOE SEED. 
 
 A SEED of the beautiful mistletoe was separated from its parent. It went 
 forth in search of a home wherein it might receive protection and care. 
 " Perhaps," said the little seed to itself, '' I may one day be a large and beautiful 
 plant like that from which I have sprung." 
 
 It knew hy instinct that the earth, in whose bosom the mighty forest trees 
 buried their spreading roots, would have no welcome for a seed of mistletoe; 
 that it must seek elsewhere the rest and nourishment it so desired. "Surely 
 there must be room for me in the world ! " the wandering seed exclaimed. 
 
 Seeing a stately elm it thought, " Here is a tree that must be as generous as 
 he is stately, here shall be my home." But the elm was not generous. He 
 scorned the humble petition of the seed, and said there was not a corner in his 
 branches for a beggar. In vain did the seed plead its great need of help ; the 
 elm was as hard as a stone, and cared not at all for the tiny creature's sorrow. 
 
 A beech near by was even more narrow-minded than the elm, and fairly 
 drove the seed away with the angry question: "Why should I afford a rest- 
 ing place to vagrant shrubs of your kind ? " And the poor weary wanderer began 
 to think that it would be as well to die at once as to die at the end of a long 
 and fruitless pursuit. 
 
 An oak in the forest, to whom the seed next appealed, listened to the sor- 
 rowing voice of the wanderer, and was more merciful than the elm or the 
 beech had been. Satisfied at last, the little seed found rest in the arms of the 
 mighty oak. Before long a delicate green leaf appeared, and then another and 
 another; and in time a beautiful shrub grew upon the great forest tree. 
 
 When the summer had passed, the winds of autumn came moaning through 
 the woods, and the leaves fell in showers. The stately elm lost its beautiful 
 foliage, the beech stood bare and shivering in the blast, and even the hospitable 
 oak saw his splendid drapery of green change and fall. And soon the winter's 
 ice and snow made the forest desolate. Yet was the oak grand and attractive still. 
 
 The mistletoe covered the broad bosom of the tree, and was indeed life in the 
 midst of death. Strong and ever green, the winter could not rob it of its 
 beauty or its strength. Its waxen berries, rivaling the snow in whiteness, 
 seemed to the beech and elm like so many mocking eyes turned upon them. 
 But to the venerable oak they were like rare and precious jewels. 
 
 One fine day in winter, the oak made this speech to a merry little group who 
 stood admiring the mistletoe : "When I received a tiny straying seed and gave 
 it my protection, do you suppose that I knew what would follow ? If 1 had stood 
 in the forest destitute of leaves as my fellow-trees are, would you have 
 gathered around to admire me ? " 
 
 " I know that the mistletoe with its white berries attracted your eyes, yet am 
 I not proud to bear that shrub in my arms and to call it my foster-child ? Kind- 
 ness enriches both the giver and the receiver. In my long, long life I have 
 learned many lessons, but this is the best of all : be kind for the very sake of 
 kindness, and you will have your reward." 
 
! j 8 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 A SUMMER LONGING. 
 
 I MUST away to wooded hills and vales, 
 Where broad, slow streams flow cool and silently, 
 And idle barges flap their listless sails. 
 For me the summer sunset glows and pales, 
 And green fields wait for me. 
 
 I long for shadowy forests, where the birds 
 
 Twitter and chirp at noon from every tree; 
 I long for blossomed leaves and lowing herds ; 
 And Nature's voices say in mystic woods, 
 "The green fields wait for thee." 
 
 I dream of uplands, where the primrose shines 
 And waves her 5^ellow lamps above the lea; 
 
 Of tangled copses, swung with trailing vines ; 
 
 Of open vistas, skirted with tall pines, 
 Where green fields wait for me. 
 
 I think of long, sweet afternoons, when I 
 May lie and listen to the distant sea, 
 
 Or hear the breezes in the reeds that sigh, 
 
 Or insect voices chirping shrill and dry, 
 In fields that wait for me. 
 
 These dreams of summer come to bid me find 
 The forest's shade, the wild bird's melody, 
 While summer's rosy wreaths for me are twined, 
 While summer's fragrance lingers on the wind, 
 And green fields wait for me. 
 
 George Arnold. 
 
 I 
 
 OUR WILLOWS. 
 
 T is when the east wind blows, But the moment the storm-wind blows, 
 
 And his cohorts gather and ride, And the storm-clouds gather and ride, 
 
 That the willows before my window They lift up their branches to heaven, 
 
 Show me their silver side. And show me the silver side. 
 
 ***** 
 
 When the air is sweet and still, 
 
 And all heaven beams light and mirth, 'Tis not to fear and sadness, 
 Though their green boughs quiver and They owe that silver sheen; 
 
 sparkle Unseen, in calm and gladness, 
 
 They look and lean to earth. It underlies the green. 
 
 And when the North-west triumphs, 
 
 And baffled storm-clouds flee, 
 
 They fling out their silvery streamers, 
 
 And hail the victory. 
 
 Hours at Borne. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 119 
 
 SPRING FLOWERS. 
 
 WHEN Spring came into the garden The sleeping daffodils heard her, 
 Her holiday-time to keep, And nodded low as she passed : 
 
 She walked about in the dawning, Each blossom dropped like a pennon 
 And found the flowers asleep. Hung out from a tall green mast. 
 
 At first she wakened the snow-drops Into the violet's eyes she looked, 
 
 And washed their faces with rain, And spoke till she made them hear. 
 
 And then she fed them with sunlight, " What are you dreaming now ? " she said. 
 And gave them white frocks again. They answered, "That Spring is here. 
 
 The crocuses next she summoned, — And then the trees stretched their fingers 
 In purple stripes and yellow, — And opened their curled-up leaves, 
 
 And she made the south wind shake them And the birds who sat and watched them 
 Till each one kissed his fellow. Flew straight to their cool green eaves. 
 
 One made her nest in the ivy, 
 
 And one in the apple-tree ; 
 But the thrush showed hers in secret 
 
 To the south wind and the bee. 
 
 THE FIELDS IN MAY. 
 
 W 
 
 'HAT can better please. 
 
 When your mind is well at ease, 
 Than a walk among the green fields in May ? 
 To see the verdure new, 
 And to hear the loud cuckoo, 
 While sunshine makes the whole world gay : 
 
 When the butterfty so brightly 
 
 On his journey dances lightly, 
 And the bee goes by with business-like hum ; 
 
 When the fragrant breeze and soft, 
 
 Stirs the shining clouds aloft, 
 And the children's hair, as laughingly they come : 
 
 When the grass is full of flowers, 
 
 And the hedge is full of bowers, 
 And the finch and the linnet piping clear, 
 
 Where the branches throw their shadows 
 
 On a footway through the meadows, 
 With a book among the cresses winding clear. 
 
 W. Allingham. 
 
120 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 APRIL AND MAY. 
 
 BIRDS on the boughs before the buds 
 Begin to burst in the spring, 
 Bending their heads to the April floods, 
 Too much out of breath to sing ! 
 
 They chirp, " Hey-day ! How the rain comes down ! 
 
 Comrades cuddle together! 
 Cling to the bark so rough and brown, 
 
 For this is April weather. 
 
 1 Oh, the warm, beautiful, drenching rain ! 
 
 I don't mind it, do you ? 
 Soon will the sky be clear again, 
 Smiling and fresh, and blue. 
 
 ' Sweet and sparkling is every drop 
 
 That slides from the soft, gray clouds ; 
 Blossoms will blush to the very top 
 Of the bare old trees in crowds. 
 
 Oh, the warm, delicious, hopeful rain ! 
 
 Let us be glad together, 
 Summer comes flying in beauty again, 
 
 Through the fitful April weather." 
 
 Skies are glowing in gold and blue, 
 
 What did the briar bird say? 
 Plenty of sunshine to come, they knew, 
 
 In the pleasant month of May ! 
 
 She calls a breeze from the south to blow 
 
 And breathe on the boughs so bare, 
 And straight, they are laden with rosy snow 
 
 And there's honey and spice in the air 
 
 Oh, the glad green leaves ! Oh, the happy wind ! 
 
 Oh, delicate fragrance and balm ! 
 Storm and tumult are left behind 
 
 In a rapture of golden calm. 
 
 From dewy morning to starry night 
 
 The birds sing sweet and strong, 
 That the radiant sky is filled with light, 
 
 That the days are fair and long. 
 
 That the bees are drowsy about the hive. 
 
 Earth is so warm and gay ! 
 And 'tis joy enough to be alive 
 
 In the heavenly month of May. Celia Thaxter. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. l 2 i 
 
 TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY, 
 
 ON TURNING IT DOWN WITH A PLOW. 
 
 WEE, modest, crimson-tipped flower, 
 Thou 's met me in an evil hour ; 
 For I maun crush amang the stoure 1 
 
 Thy slender stem : 
 To spare thee now is past my power, 
 Thou bonnie gem ! 
 
 Alas, it 's not thy neebor sweet, 
 The bonnie lark, companion meet ! 
 Bending the 'mang the dewy weet, 
 
 Wi' speckled breast, 
 When upward springing, blithe, to greet 
 
 The purpling east. 
 
 Cauld blew the bitter, biting north 
 Upon thy early, humble birth; 
 Yet cheerfully thou glinted- forth, 
 
 Amid the storm ! 
 Scarce reared above the parent earth 
 
 Thy tender form. 
 
 The flaunting flowers our gardens yield, 
 High sheltering woods and wa's maun shield 
 But thou, beneath the random bield 3 
 
 O' clod or stane. 
 Adorns the histie 4 stibble-field, 
 
 Unseen, alane. 
 
 There, in thy scanty mantle clad, 
 Thy snawie bosom sunward spread, 
 Thou lifts thy unassuming head 
 
 In humble guise ; 
 But now the share uptears thy bed, 
 
 And low thou lies ! 
 
 Such is the fate of simple bard, 
 
 On life's rough ocean luckless starr'd ! 
 
 Unskillful he to note the card 
 
 Of prudent lore, 
 Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, 
 
 And whelm him o'er. 
 
 i. Dust. 2. Peeped. 3. Shelter. 4. Dry. 
 
122 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Such fate to suffering worth is given, 
 
 Who long with wants and woes has striven, — 
 
 By human pride or cunning driven 
 
 To misery's brink, 
 Till, wrench'd of every stay but Heaven, 
 
 He, ruined,. sink. 
 
 E'en thou who mourn'st the daisy's fate, 
 That fate is thine, — no distant date ; 
 Stern ruin's plowshare drives, elate, 
 
 Full on thy bloom ; 
 Till, crush'd beneath the furrow's weight, 
 
 Shall be thy doom ! 
 
 Robert Burns. 
 
 A WOODLAND HYMN. 
 
 WE seek remembered wood-paths, fragrant with breath of pines, 
 In flecks the sunlight golden through leafy arches shines, 
 The wild birds sweet are calling through all the balmy day, 
 The liquid song of wood-thrush pours forth in joyous lay, 
 The phcebe near the cottage with plaintive call doth sing, 
 From shaded nook the partridge soars aloft on whirring wing. 
 
 Fair are the gentle blossoms, the first sweet gift of Spring, 
 
 Anemones and violets from old-time haunts we bring, 
 
 With round leaf green and glossy, with pure, rich, creamy bloom, 
 
 The Pyrola in beauty distills its rare perfume ; 
 
 Here find we velvet mosses, lichens with ruby cup, 
 
 From out whose dainty chalice, a fairy well might sup. 
 
 O treasures of the woodland ! the lovely maiden-hair, 
 
 Soft ferns with feathery tresses where cooling shadows are ; 
 
 We find 'neath dried leaves hiding the trailing partridge-vine 
 
 Bright mid its green leaves growing the scarlet berries shine; 
 
 The chestnut burs are opening and from their velvet bed 
 
 The brown nuts thickly falling with bright-hued leaves are shed. 
 
 Oh ! wondrous is the glory in Autumn's changing light, 
 Like fairy land the beauty within the woodlands bright, 
 The golden Autumn sunshine, "God's everlasting smile," 
 With pure, sweet radiance lighteth each shadowy forest aisle: 
 A subtle balsam odor breathes through the dreamy air, 
 A charm steals o'er the spirits, a lulling rest from care. 
 Chnutauquan, October, 1885. PHEBE A. HOLDER. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I 23 
 
 CHOOSING A "STATE TREE." 
 
 Nominations made by Students at Sag Harbor, N. Y., May 3, 1889. 
 
 THE MAPLE. 
 
 There are about fifty species of maple, ten of which are found in North America. 
 Some are large trees growing- to a height of seventy or eighty feet, others are 
 only small shrubs. They differ in the time at which the flowers appear. The 
 floAvers of some appear before the leaves, of others at the same time with the 
 leaves, and of others not until the leaves are fully developed. The leaves are 
 deciduous and from three to seven lobed. The seeds have wings so that they 
 do not fall to the ground very quickly and are scattered about by the wind. 
 The flowers of the red and silver maples appear in March or April, and the 
 seeds ripen in June, and fall to the ground, when they soon commence to grow 
 and by autumn form small trees, one or two feet in height. The seeds of these 
 species will not retain their vitality if kept until the next spring. The sap of 
 some species of maple contains sugar which is obtained from the sap by evap- 
 oration. The timber of the maple is used for some purposes, that of the sugar 
 maple being the most valuable. The maple is of rapid growth, good form and, 
 has wide-spreading branches, with very thick, bright-green foliage, which makes 
 it a good shade and ornamental tree. The maple is a clean tree not being fre- 
 quented by noxious worms, and does not litter the ground with leaves and 
 twigs during the summer. With the first frosts of autumn the leaves of the 
 maple change to various shades of red and yellow, and present a very hand- 
 some appearance. Everett L. Tindall. 
 
 T 1 
 
 THE BLACK-WALNUT. 
 
 *HE J. Nigra of the Juglans genus is a native of America. It flourishes in 
 1 all parts of the United States, except in the extreme north, but principally 
 in the fertile river basins, where it attains a height of seventy-five feet. It is one 
 of the largest trees of North America, its branches spreading out in a horizon- 
 tal direction for a long distance, giving it a very majestic appearance. 
 
 The bark is thick, black, and becomes furrowed with age. The leaves, when 
 bruised, emit a strong fragrant odor. The heart of the tree, after short expos- 
 ure to the air, turns nearly black, hence the name, Black-walnut. The follow- 
 ing qualities make the wood very valuable : 
 
 1st. It remains sound for a long time, even after much exposure, ud. It is 
 strong, tenacious, and when thoroughly seasoned, not liable to warp or split. 
 3d. Its grain being fine and compact, admits of a very fine polish; the wood 
 is also free from worms. 
 
 It is chiefly used by cabinet-makers, but is sometimes converted into lumber. 
 
 Its fruit is very rarely sold, being inferior to that of many other species. The 
 
 above qualities, many of which are symbolic of the features in which New 
 
 York State leads the Union, strongly recommend it to the wise as a State 
 
 emblem. 
 
 John W. Ripley. 
 
I 24 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE HEMLOCK. 
 
 The northern part of the United States and Canada abounds largely in this 
 tree. Although not remarkable for its beauty except when young, its uniform- 
 ity and great height give it a very stately appearance. Being seventy or eighty 
 feet high and having a circumference of from six to nine feet, the timber ob- 
 tained from it is necessarily large, but because of its tendency to split, is not 
 very highly esteemed for building purpose. The bark is very valuable for 
 tanning. The leaves are two-rowed, flat and obtuse. Different varieties of this 
 same species are the Black and White Spruce. The former unlike the Hem- 
 lock is a valuable timber tree. From it the essence of spruce is obtained which 
 ' is used for making spruce beer. From the fibres of the roots of the White 
 Spruce the Canadians get the thread with which they sew their birch bark 
 canoes, the seams being made water tight with its resin, Both of the last- 
 named varieties have quadrangular leaves. The most important advantages to 
 the State are the bark it yields, the shade it gives and to some extent the 
 timber obtained from it. May I. Bachelder. 
 
 THE PINE TREE. 
 
 The pines, which are distinguished from all other trees, by their foliage which 
 consists of needle-shaped leaves in clusters of two to five, surrounded at the 
 base by some of the withered bud scales, which form a sheath around them, 
 constitute a large and interesting class of American forest trees. The most 
 valuable species is that which is known as the Georgia Pitch Pine. Toward 
 the north, the long-leaved pine makes its appearance near Norfolk, in Vir- 
 ginia, where the pine barrens begin. It seems to be especially assigned to 
 dry, sandy soils; and it is found almost without interruption, in the lower part 
 of the Carolinas, Georgia and Florida, over a tract more than six hundred miles 
 long, from north-east to south-west, and more than one hundred miles broad 
 from the sea toward the mountains. 
 
 The pines with the exception of one species in the Canaries, are confined to 
 America, Europe and Asia, and are more abundant in the temperate and cooler 
 portions of these. No trees are so useful to the arts of c vi'.ized life as these, as 
 they not only furnish in abundance kinds of wood for which there is no proper 
 substitute, but their other products are of great utility, the abundant juice of 
 some species, which consists of a resin dissolved in a volatile oil, affords turpen- 
 tines of various kinds, spirits of turpentine, resin, tar and other minor products. 
 
 In the northern States, the lands which at the commencement of their settle- 
 ments were covered with pitch pine, were exhausted in twenty-five or thirty 
 years, and for more than half a century have ceased to furnish tar. In several 
 species the nuts are edible, and are not only eaten by wild animals, but are col- 
 lected for food. In ornamental planting, pines are exceedingly useful, as they 
 present a great variety of habit and foliage, from species which never rise above 
 a few feet up to those which have trunks large enough for a ship's mast. 
 
 The pine barrens are of vast extent and are covered with trees of forest 
 growth, but they cannot be all rendered profitable, from the difficulty of com- 
 municating- with the sea. Louise Youngs. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. i 2 5 
 
 THE ASH. 
 
 The White Ash is one of the most 'interesting among the American species 
 for the qualities of its wood, and the most remarkable for the rapidity of its 
 growth and for the beauty of its foliage. A cold climate seems most congenial 
 to its nature. 
 
 It is everywhere called White Ash, probably from the color of its bark, by 
 which it is easily distinguished. The White Ash sometimes attains a height 
 of eighty feet, with a diameter of three feet, and is one of the largest trees of 
 the United States. The trunk is perfectly straight and often undivided to the 
 height of more than forty feet. On large stocks the bark is deeply furrowed, 
 and divided into small squares from one to three inches in diameter. 
 
 The leaves are twelve or fourteen inches long, opposite and composed of 
 three or four pair of leaflets surmounted by an odd one. 
 
 The leaflets are three or four inches long, about two inches broad, of a delicate 
 texture and an undulated surface. 
 
 Early in the spring they are covered with a light down, which gradually dis- 
 appears, and at the approach of summer they are perfectly smooth, of a light 
 green color above, and whitish beneath. 
 
 It puts forth white or greenish flowers in the month of May, which are suc- 
 ceeded by seeds that are eighteen inches long, cylindrical near the base, and 
 gradually flattened into a wing, the extremity of which is slightly notched. 
 They are united in bunches four or five inches long, and are ripe in the begin- 
 ning of autumn. The shoots of the two preceding years are of a bluish-gray 
 color and perfectly smooth. The distance between their buds sufficiently 
 proves the vigor of their growth. 
 
 Jennie Pierson. . 
 
 THE OAK. 
 
 The oak is a very common tree, and consists of many species, of which the 
 White Oak is most common. Oaks are found over nearly the whole of the 
 northern hemisphere, except the extreme north and the tropics, along the 
 Andes. There are both deciduous and evergreen species, representing a won- 
 derful difference in their leaves and general aspect, some being small shrubs, 
 but all are easily recognized by their peculiar fruit consisting of an acorn and a 
 cup, which never completely incloses the nut. 
 
 The oak is long-lived, and specimens supposed to have been in existence 
 before the settlement of this county, are still standing. As an ornamental 
 tree, the White Oak is much esteemed. In autumn the leaves turn to a pur- 
 plish color and remain upon the tree until a new growth next spring. It is also 
 a good shade tree. The oak is one of the largest and strongest trees which 
 grows in this State, and is, therefore, well adapted to be chosen as the tree of 
 the Empire State. The oak is extensively used in ship-building, and is, there- 
 fore, emblematical of a commercial State. 
 
 Joseph Brobeck. 
 
j 26 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 TULIP TREE. 
 
 This tree, which surpasses most others of North America in height and beauty 
 of its foliage and flower, is one of the most interesting from the numerous and 
 useful applications of its wood. It is a native of the United States, though the 
 western States appear to be its natural soil, and it is there it displays its most 
 powerful vegetation. 
 
 It has a stem, sometimes from 100 to 140 feet in height and three feet thick, 
 with a grayish-brown cracked bark, and many gnarled and easily broken 
 branches. The leaves are roundish, ovate and three-lobed. The flowers are 
 solitary at the extremities of the branchlets, are large, brilliant, variegated with 
 different colors, have an agreeable, odor, and are very numerous on detached 
 trees, producing a fine effect. The flowers bloom in June or July. 
 
 The fruit is composed of a great number of thin narrow scales attached to a 
 common axis, and forming a cone two or three inches in length. Each cone 
 consists of sixty or seventy seeds, of which never more than a third are produc- 
 tive. For three years before the tree begins to yield fruit, almost all the seeds 
 are unproductive, and in large trees those from the highest branches are best. 
 
 The bark of the tree has a bitter aromatic taste, and has been used as a sub- 
 stitute for Peruvian bark in intermittent fevers, and is a good tonic. 
 
 The tulip tree is one of the most beautiful ornaments of pleasure grounds 
 whereon it grows and flowers well. The timber is easily wrought and is much 
 used for many purposes. Madge Vail. 
 
 THE ELM. 
 
 The elm belongs to the order of ulmacea? or elmworts. There are several 
 kinds of elms, some native of North America, some of Europe and some of 
 Asia; such as the cork elm, the slippery elm, the American or white elm, etc., 
 the last mentioned being the one we are to consider. This elm, namely the 
 American elm, is one of the largest and most beautiful of its species It is a 
 native of the forests of North America, being most common in the northern, 
 middle and western States. It grows from seventy to eighty feet high, attaining 
 its greatest size between latitude 42 and 46 degrees, where it sometimes reaches 
 one hundred feet. The roots of the elm are very long and numerous, often ex- 
 tending from one to two hundred feet ; thus it is generally pretty secure from 
 cyclones and heavy gales of wind. It has a fine straight trunk from three to 
 five feet in diameter, covered with a rough dark-gray bark, and reaching from 
 thirty to sixty feet before separating into branches. Its branches are large, 
 wide-spreading, graceful and overhanging, and in the summer thickly covered 
 with foliage. The flower of the American elm opens in April before the tree 
 comes into leaf. It is very small, of a purplish color, and collected in little ter- 
 minal clusters. The leaves which appear in the month of Ma) r are from four to 
 five inches long, and oval in shape. Its wood is white in color, flexible and 
 very tough, and is used for a variety of purposes by wheelwrights. The Ameri- 
 can elm is a great favorite as a shade tree. It is perfectly hardy, will grow in 
 nearly any soil, and on the seacoast equally as well as in the interior. It is tall 
 and stately in appearance, thus adding beauty and picturesqueness to the sur- 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 I2 7 
 
 roundings; while its graceful, overhanging branches afford pleasant shade and 
 favorite nesting places for birds. 
 
 Many of the streets of New Haven city are lined on either side with long 
 rows of fine large elm trees whose branches, gracefully pendent, meet and form 
 lofty arches. It is, therefore, often called the City of Elms and is considered one 
 of the most beautiful cities of the New England States. 
 
 The American elm is very extensively planted as a shade tree both in private 
 grounds and along public roads ; and on account of its many desirable qualities 
 is universally liked as a village tree; and I think it one of the best adapted to 
 be chosen for a State tree, and justly entitled to a large number of votes. 
 
 F. C. Steuart. 
 
 THE HICKORY. 
 
 There have been a number of trees suggested as candidates for the honor of 
 being the State tree of New York ; the oak, the pine, the elm, the tulip-tree, 
 the maple, the walnut and many others. All are beautiful, but there are other 
 considerations besides beauty in choosing a State tree, and the one most symbol- 
 ical of New York in its size, vigor and productiveness will receive the choice. 
 
 The oak and pine fulfill many of these conditions, but they are the generally 
 acknowledged soldier trees. The oak fights the storms of centuries, and is so 
 strong that it has become a byword, and when we wish to say men are invinci- 
 ble in their courage, we say they have " hearts of oak." The pine is a sentinel, 
 and likes to choose some barren, lonely height to do solemn picket-duty. But 
 these are not lovable trees, they are not productive trees ; the}- are sturdy, 
 independent, and hardy, and New York is all of these, but it is also a State of 
 homes, a lovable State, and not a fighting State. It has no dangerous enemies 
 to fight. Why should the population, — sleek Dutch market-gardeners from 
 West Long Island, hurried business men from the cities and inky and theoreti- 
 cal model farmers from the center of the State, — turn out to make a bayonet 
 charge among the handful of dirty and drunken Indians on the State reserva- 
 tions, or some equally harmless people ? 
 
 Neither is it a lazy, effeminate State, to be symbolized by that very fop of 
 trees, the tulip-tree, with its gorgeous flowers in spring, and its brilliant leaves 
 in fall ; or by the dainty lady elm, with its graceful twig-drapery. Nor is it a 
 State mourning over past glories and present deca)' ; a willow might be emblem 
 of Egypt or Greece or Italy, but it is not of prosperous mercantile New York. 
 
 But there is a tree which seems to typify the State, — a beautiful, vigorous, 
 productive tree, not as large as some others perhaps, but size is not always 
 strength, and important New York would cover a very small corner of unimpor- 
 tant Texas ; a distinctively American tree, therefore fit to be a typical tree of a 
 typical American State ; and this beautiful hickory tree has another quality, 
 admirable in a tree, or a State, or a man, or any thing liable to misfortune ; you 
 may bend a hickory sapling to the ground, — and when 3 r ou release it, it springs 
 back as before, unbroken. This recuperative power is as remarkable in the 
 State as in the tree. Our own Principal told us, in his delightful address on 
 the Centennial day, how a hundred years ago New York city was an impover- 
 ished, war-ravaged little town of twenty-five thousand inhabitants. As soon as 
 
! 2 g ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 the pressure of war was removed, New York recuperated, like the tree, so that 
 there is no parallel for the growth of that second city in the world. 
 
 As merely a beautiful shade tree, as merely a producer of delicious nuts, the 
 hickory is unsurpassed; but as a type of vigorous, productive New York, it has 
 no equal, and can have none. 
 
 Florence Painter. 
 
 SILENCE IS GOLDEN. 
 
 THE flowers have no tongues. I do not mean that you must not talk. God 
 has given us tongues, and means us to use them. But let the silent 
 beauty of the flowers teach us to do all the good we can and make no fuss 
 about it. Never be in a hurry to tell people you are Christians, but act so that 
 they cannot help finding it out. 
 
 Did you ever watch beans grow? They come up out of the ground as if 
 they had been planted upside down. Each appears carrying the seed on top of 
 his stalk, as if they were afraid folks would not know they were beans unless 
 they immediately told them. But most flowers wait patiently and humbly to 
 be known by their fruits. 
 
 From " The World to Come." Chautauquan, February, 1888. 
 
 What a noble gift to man are the forests ! What a debt of gratitude and ad- 
 miration we owe for their utility and their beauty ! How pleasantly the shad- 
 ows of the wood fall upon our heads when we turn from the glitter and turmoil 
 of the world of man ! The winds of heaven seem to linger amid their balmy 
 branches, and the sunshine falls like a blessing upon the green leaves; the wild 
 breath of the forest, fragrant with bark and berry, fans the brow with grateful 
 freshness; and the beautiful woodlight, neither garish or gloomy, full of calm 
 and peaceful influences, sheds repose over the spirit. 
 
 Susan Fenimore Cooper. 
 
 The project of connecting the planting of trees with the names of authors is 
 a beautiful one, and one certain to exert a beneficial influence upon the chil- 
 dren who participate in these exercises. The institution of an "Arbor Day " is 
 highly commendable from its artistic consequences, and cannot fail to result 
 in great benefit to the climate and to the commercial interests of the country 
 when it becomes an institution of general adoption. 
 
 Prof. B. Pickman Mann, Son of Horace Mann : Extract from Letter. 
 
 Plant the crab where you will, it will never bear pippins." 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. \ 29 
 
 PLANTING FOR THE FUTURE. 
 
 IN youth's glad morning hour, 
 All life a holiday doth seem ; 
 We glance adown time's vista long 
 Beholding but the sunny gleam. 
 
 The happy hearts that meet to-day, 
 
 In a loving band are drawn more near 
 
 By the loving end that crowns our work, 
 Planting trees for a future year. 
 
 O tender trees ! ye may thrive and grow, 
 And spread your branches to the sun, 
 
 When the youthful band assembled here, 
 Has reaped life's harvest, every one. 
 
 When the shining eye shall lose its fire, 
 When the rosy cheek shall fade away, 
 
 Thou'lt drink of the dew and bask in the light 
 Forgetful of this Arbor Day. 
 
 The bounding heart, the active limb, 
 
 The merry laugh and sparkling jest. 
 Be mingled with the things of earth, 
 
 And sink to solitude and rest. 
 
 But o'er this ground with branching arms, 
 These trees shall cast their leafy shade, 
 
 And other hearts as light and gay, 
 
 Shall reap the shelter we have made. 
 
 So let our planting ever be, 
 
 Something in store for a future year, 
 When homeward with our harvest bound, 
 
 We'll meet the Master without fear. 
 
 Little Falls, N. Y., 18S9. Harriet B. Wright. 
 
 GRAY in his " Elegy " speaks of " the nodding beech " with its " old fantastic 
 roots," the "favorite tree" of the "youth to fortune and to fame un- 
 known," for whom he writes his ''Epitaph." 
 He also says in his churchyard musings : 
 
 " Beneath those rugged elms, that_y<?w trees shade 
 
 When heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap. 
 Each in his narrow cell, forever laid 
 
 The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep." 
 9 
 
I 30 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 WAITING TO GROW. 
 
 LITTLE white snowdrop, just waking up, 
 Violet, daisy, and sweet buttercup ! 
 Think of the flowers that are under the snow, 
 Waiting to grow ! 
 
 And think what hosts of queer little seeds — 
 Of flowers and mosses, of ferns and weeds — 
 Are under the leaves and under the snow, 
 Waiting to grow ! 
 
 Think of the roots getting ready to sprout, 
 Reaching their slender brown fingers about, 
 Under the ice and the leaves and the snow, 
 Waiting to grow ! 
 
 Only a month or a few weeks more, 
 Will they have to wait behind that door ; 
 Listen and watch for they are below — 
 Waiting to grow ! 
 
 Nothing so small, or hidden so well, 
 That God will not find it, and very soon tell 
 His sun where to shine, and his rain where to go, 
 To help them grow ! 
 
 FORGIVENESS. 
 
 WHEN on a fragrant sandal tree 
 The woodman's ax descends, 
 And she who bloomed so beauteously, 
 Beneath the weapon bends. 
 E'en on the edge that wrought her death, 
 Dying she breathes her sweetest breath, 
 As if to token in her fall, 
 Peace to her foes and love to all. 
 
 How hardly man this lesson learns, 
 
 To smile and bless the hand that spurns, 
 
 To see the blow, to feel the pain, 
 
 And render only love again ! 
 
 One had it, but he came from heaven, 
 
 Reviled, rejected and betrayed, 
 
 No curse He breathed, no plaint He made, 
 
 But when in death's dark pang He sighed, 
 
 Prayed for his murderers, and died. J. Edmondston. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 1 3 1 
 
 THE LAST DREAM OF THE OLD OAK TREE. 
 
 A CHRISTMAS TALE. 
 
 IN the forest high up on the steep shore, hard by the open sea-coast, stood a 
 very old oak tree. It was exactly three hundred and sixty-five years old, 
 but that long time was not more for the tree than just as many days would be 
 to us men. We wake by day and sleep through the night, and then we have 
 our dreams : it is different with the tree, which keeps awake through three 
 seasons of the year, and does not get its sleep till winter comes. Winter is its 
 time for rest, its night after the long day which is called spring, summer, and 
 autumn. 
 
 On many a warm summer day the ephemera, the fly that lives but for a day, 
 had danced around his crown — had lived, enjoyed, and felt happy; and then 
 rested for a moment in quiet bliss the tiny creature, on one of the great fresh 
 oak leaves; and then the tree always said : 
 
 " Poor little thing ! Your whole life is but a single day ! How very short ! 
 It's quite melancholy!" 
 
 "Melancholy! Why do you say that?" the ephemera would then always 
 reply. " It is wonderfully bright, warm, and beautiful all around me, and that 
 makes me rejoice ! '' 
 
 " But only one day and then it's all done ! " 
 
 "Done ! " repeated the ephemera. "What's the meaning of done? Are you 
 done too ? " 
 
 "No; I shall perhaps live for thousands of your days, and my day is whole 
 seasons long ! It's something so long, that you can't at all manage to reckon 
 it out." 
 
 "No? then I don't understand you. You say you have thousands of my 
 days ; but I have thousands of moments, in which I can be merry and happy. 
 Does all the beauty of this world cease when you die? " 
 
 " No," replied the tree ; " it will certainly last much longer — far longer than 
 I can possibly think." 
 
 "Well, then, we have the same time, only that we reckon differently." 
 
 And the ephemera danced and floated in the air, and rejoiced in her delicate 
 wings of gauze and velvet, and rejoiced in the balmy breezes laden with the 
 fragrance of meadows and of wild-roses and elder-flowers, of the garden hedges, 
 wild thyme, and mint, and daisies; the scent of these was all so strong that 
 the ephemera was almost intoxicated. The day was long and beautiful, full of 
 joy and of sweet feeling, and when the sun sank low the little fly felt very 
 agreeably tired of all its happiness and enjoyment. The delicate wings would 
 not carry it any more, and quietly and slowly it glided down upon the soft 
 grass-blade, nodded its head as well as it could nod, and went quietly to sleep 
 — and was dead. 
 
 "Poor little ephemera ! " said the oak. "That was a terribly short life ! " 
 
 And on every summer day the same dance was repeated, the same question 
 and answer, and the same sleep. The same thing was repeated through whole 
 generations of ephemera, all of them felt equally merry and equally happy. 
 
132 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 The oak stood there awake through the spring morning, the noon of sum- 
 mer, and the evening of autumn; and its time of rest, its night, was coming on 
 apace. Winter was approaching. 
 
 Already the storms were singing their " good-night, good-night ! " Here fell 
 a leaf and there fell a leaf. 
 
 " We'll rock you and dandle you ! Go to sleep, go to sleep ! We sing you to 
 sleep, we shake you to sleep, but it does you good in your old twigs, does it 
 not? They seem to crack for very joy! Sleep sweetly, sleep sweetly! It's 
 your three hundred and sixty-fifth night. Properly speaking, you're only a 
 stripling as yet ! Sleep sweetly ! The clouds strew down snow, there will be 
 quite a coverlet, warm and protecting, around your feet. Sweet sleep to you, 
 and pleasant dreams ! " 
 
 And the oak tree stood there denuded of all its leaves, to sleep through the 
 long winter, and to dream many a dream, always about something that had 
 happened to it — just as in the dreams of men. 
 
 The great oak had once been small — indeed, an acorn had been its cradle. 
 According to human computation, it was now in its fourth century. It was the 
 greatest and best tree in the forest; its crown towered far above all the other 
 trees, and could be descried from afar across the sea, so that it served as a 
 landmark to the sailors : the tree had no idea how many eyes were in the habit 
 of seeking it. High up in its green summit the wood-pigeon built her nest, 
 and the cuckoo sat in its boughs, and sang his song; and in autumn, when 
 the leaves looked like thin plates of copper, the birds of passage came and 
 rested there, before they flew away across the sea ; but now it was winter, and 
 the tree stood there leafless, so that every one could see how gnarled and 
 crooked the branches were that shot forth from its trunk. Crows and rooks 
 came and took their seat by turns in the boughs, and spoke of the hard times 
 which were beginning, and of the difficulty of getting a living in winter. 
 
 It was just at the holy Christmas time, when the tree dreamed its most 
 glorious dream. 
 
 The tree had a distinct feeling of the festive time, and fancied he heard the 
 bells ringing from the churches all around ; and yet it seemed as if it were a fine 
 summer's day, mild and warm. Fresh and green he spread out his mighty 
 crown ; the sunbeams played among the twigs and the leaves ; the air was full 
 of the fragrance of herbs and blossoms ; gay butterflies chased each other to 
 and fro. The ephemeral insects danced as if all the world were created merely 
 for them to dance and be merry in. All that the tree had experienced for years 
 and years, and that had happened around him, seemed to pass by him again, as 
 in a festive pageant. He saw the knights of ancient days ride by with their 
 noble dames on gallant steeds, with plumes waving in their bonnets and fal- 
 cons on their wrists. The hunting-horn sounded, and the dogs barked. He 
 saw hostile warriors in colored jerkins and with shining weapons, with spear 
 and halbert, pitching their tents and striking them again. The watch-fires 
 flamed up anew, and men sang and slept under the branches of the tree. He 
 saw loving couples meeting near his trunk, happily, in the moonshine; and 
 they cut the initials of their names in the gray-green bark of his stem. Once 
 — but long years had rolled by since then — citherns and ^Eolian harps had 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 been hung up on his boughs by merry wanderers ; and now they hung there 
 again, ana once again they sounded in tones of marvelous sweetness. The 
 wood-pigeons cooed, as if tney were telling what the tree felt in all this, and 
 the cuckoo called out to tell him how many summer days he had yet to live. 
 
 Then it appeared to him as if new fife were rippling down into the remotest 
 fibre of his root, and mounting up into his highest branches, to the tops of the 
 leaves. The tree felt that he was stretching and spreading himself, and through 
 his root he felt that there was life and motion even in the ground itself. He 
 felt his strength increase, he grew higher, his stem shot up unceasingly, and 
 he grew more and more, his crown became fuller, and spread out; and in pro- 
 portion as the tree grew, he felt his happiness increase, and his joyous hope 
 that he should reach even higher — quite up to the warm, brilliant sun. 
 
 Already had he grown high above the clouds, which floated past beneath his 
 crown like dark troops of passage-birds, or like great white swans. And every 
 leaf of the tree had the gift of sight, as if it had eyes wherewith to see; the 
 stars became visible in broad daylight, great and sparkling; each of them 
 sparkled like a pair of e)'es, mild and clear. They recalled to his memory well- 
 known gentle eyes, eyes of children, eyes of lovers who had met beneath his 
 boughs. 
 
 It was a marvelous spectacle, and one full of happiness and joy! And yet 
 amid all this happiness the tree felt a longing, a yearning desire that all other 
 trees of the wood beneath him, and all the bushes, and herbs, and flowers, 
 might be able to rise with him, that they too might see this splendor, and 
 experience this joy. The great majestic oak was not quite happy in his happi- 
 ness, while he had not them all, great and little, about him ; and this feeling of 
 yearning trembled through his every twig, through his every leaf, warmly and 
 fervently as through a human heart. 
 
 The crown of the tree waved to and fro, as if he sought something in his 
 silent longing, and he looked down. Then he felt the fragrance of thyme, and 
 soon afterward the more powerful scent of honeysuckle and violets; and he 
 fancied he heard the cuckoo answering him. 
 
 Yes, through the clouds the green summits of the forest came peering up, 
 and under himself the oak saw the other trees, as they grew and raised them- 
 selves aloft. Bushes and herbs shot up high, and some tore themselves up 
 bodily by the roots to rise the quicker. The birch was the quickest of all. Like 
 a white streak of lightning, its slender stem shot upwards in a zigzag line, and 
 the branches spread around it like green gauze and like banners ; the whole 
 woodland natives, even to the brown-plumed rushes, grew up with the rest, 
 and the birds came too, and sang; and on the grass blade that fluttered aloft 
 like a long silken ribbon into the air, sat the grasshopper cleaning his wings 
 with his legs ; the May beetles hummed, and the bees murmured, and every bird 
 sang in his appointed manner; all was song and sound of gladness up into the 
 high heaven. 
 
 " But the little blue flower by the water-side, wheie is that? " said the oak; 
 "and the purple bell-flower and the daisy?" for, you see, the old oak tree 
 wanted to have them all about him. 
 
 "We are here — we are here ! " was shouted and sung in reply. 
 
134 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 "But the beautiful thyme of last summer — and in the last year there was 
 certainly a place here covered with lilies of the valley ! and the wild apple tree 
 that blossomed so splendidly ! and all the glory of the wood that came year by 
 year — if that had only just been born, it might have been here now!" 
 
 "We are here, we are here ! " replied voices still higher in the air. It seemed 
 as if they had flown on before. 
 
 " Why, that is beautiful, indescribably beautiful ! " exclaimed the old oak tree, 
 rejoicingly. " 1 have them all around me, great and small ; not one has been 
 forgotten ! How can so much happiness be imagined ? How can it be possible? ' 
 
 "In heaven, in the better land, it can be imagined, and it is possible!" the 
 reply sounded through the air. 
 
 And the old tree, who grew on and on, felt how his roots were tearing them- 
 selves free from the ground. 
 
 "That's right, that's better than all !" said the tree. "Now no fetters hold 
 me ! I can fly up now, to the very highest, in glory and in light ! And all my 
 beloved ones are with me, great and small — all of them, all!" 
 
 That was the dream of the old oak tree; and while he dreamt thus a mighty 
 storm came rushing over land and sea — at the holy Christmas-tide. The sea 
 rolled great billows toward the shore; there was a crackling and crashing in 
 the tree — his root was torn out of the ground in the very moment while he 
 was dreaming that his root freed itself from the earth. He fell. His three 
 hundred and sixty-five years were now as the single day of the ephemera. 
 
 On the morning of the Christmas festival, when the sun rose, the storm had 
 subsided. From all the churches sounded the festive bells, and from every 
 hearth, even from the smallest hut, arose the smoke in blue clouds, like the 
 smoke from the altars of the druids of old at the feast of thanks-offerings. 
 The sea became gradually calm, and on board a great ship in the offing, that 
 had fought successfully with the tempest, all the flags were displaj^ed, as a 
 token of joy suitable to the festive day. 
 
 "The tree is down — the old oak tree, our land-mark on the coast!" said the 
 sailors. " It fell in the storm of last night. Who can replace it ? No one can." 
 
 This was the funeral oration, short but well meant, that was given to the 
 tree, which lay stretched on the snowy covering on the sea-shore ; and over its 
 prostrate form sounded the notes of a song from the ship, a carol of the joys 
 of Christmas, and of the redemption of the soul of man by His blood, and of 
 eternal life. 
 
 " Sing, sing aloud, this blessed morn — 
 It is fulfilled — and He is born : 
 Oh, i'oy without compare ! 
 
 Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! " 
 
 Thus sounded the old psalm-tune, and every one on board the ship felt lifted 
 up in his own way, through the song and the prayer, just as the old tree had 
 felt lifted up in its last, it most beauteous dream in the Christmas night. 
 
 Hans Christian Andersen. 
 
 Friendship is a sheltering tree. 
 
 Coleridge, Youth and Age. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 1 3 5 
 
 HISTORICAL TREES— Told in Rhyme. 
 
 for a class exercise. 
 All: 
 
 ONE by one we are turning 
 The leaves of Time's dusty book, 
 And wonderful legends are written 
 On each storied page we look. 
 
 Legends of Indian warfare, 
 
 Of crossing a trackless sea, 
 Of hunger and cold endured by all, 
 
 For the sake of being free. 
 
 Far back when the world was younger 
 The Romans, the stories say, 
 
 When some wonderful thing had happened 
 With a white stone marked the day. 
 
 But instead of a stone for remembrance, 
 We mark by a tall green tree, 
 
 Full many a great event that's passed 
 Since the Mayflower crossed the sea. 
 
 First Child : 
 
 So looking adown the centuries 
 
 To those early frontier days, 
 And ancient Philadelphia 
 
 With its quaint old Quaker ways. 
 
 I see 'neath the sachem's elm-tree, 
 
 Penn and his fearless band, 
 And the plumed and painted warriors 
 
 Around him on ev'ry hand. 
 
 Second Child : 
 
 Here he called the Indian brothers 
 
 And treated them like men, 
 And none of the Indians ever broke 
 
 That treaty made with Penn. 
 
 Third Child: 
 
 And even the British foemen 
 
 Respected that ancient tree, 
 And placed a guard to protect it 
 
 From their hireling soldiery. 
 
 Fourth Child : 
 
 But ere another century 
 
 Had been told above its head, 
 A strong wind swept above it, 
 
 And the ancient elm lay dead. 
 
136 A RBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Still the mother tells to her children 
 
 As they climb upon her knee, 
 Of the treaty of sixteen eighty-two, 
 
 Beneath the old elm-tree. 
 
 All. 
 This tree was blown down in 1810, and proved by its rings to be 283 years 
 old. A large part of it was sent to the members of Penn's family, and the 
 remainder was made into boxes, chairs, etc. 
 
 Fifth Child : 
 
 Once when in England's stately halls, 
 
 A new king wore the royal crown, 
 And one with chains for liberty 
 
 Sailed o'er the sea to Boston town. 
 
 Throughout the land where e'er was heard 
 
 The measured tread of soldiers' feet 
 In all New England's colonies, 
 
 The people's heart, as one heart beat 
 
 And when the haughty leader came, 
 
 Then every slumb'ring patriot woke, 
 
 And they hid Connecticut's charter 
 In the heart of a hollow oak. 
 
 Sixth Child: 
 
 But when old England changed her king 
 
 It was taken from out the tree, 
 And Hartford's Charter Oak became 
 
 The symbol of liberty. 
 
 All: 
 The Vice-President's chair at Washington is made from the Charter Oak, 
 which was blown down in 1856. 
 
 Seventh Child : 
 
 We've all of us heard of the Stamp Act, 
 
 And Boston of 'sixty-five, 
 And the meetings against taxation 
 
 'Neath the old elm then alive. 
 
 And how one August morning, 
 
 On a branch of that tree so green, 
 The effigies of the Governor, 
 
 And old Lord Bute were seen. 
 
 The people crowded around them 
 
 From every part of the town, 
 As they swung from the elm-tree branches 
 
 Till the summer sun went down. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 1 3 7 
 
 Eighth Child: 
 
 And when four more months of trouble 
 
 Into the past had sped, 
 The royal governor 'neath that tree 
 
 His resignation read. 
 
 Ninth Child : 
 
 But at last the lawless soldiery 
 Beneath the old elm stood, 
 And Boston's liberty-tree 
 
 Became the Briton's firewood. 
 
 All*. 
 This elm was cut down by the British in 1775. The soldiers used it for 
 firewood and got fourteen cords from it. 
 
 Tenth Child : 
 
 All over the land in 'sixty-five, 
 
 In spite of king and crown, 
 The liberty-trees were springing up, 
 
 In every village and town. 
 
 In Charleston, South Carolina, there was one, 
 
 'Twas a great live oak, 
 There it stood till in seventeen-eighty 
 
 It was burned by the British folk. 
 
 All: 
 The Declaration of Independence was read and meetings were held under 
 this tree. In 1780, it was cut down and burned by the British. 
 
 Eleventh Child : 
 
 When the Stamp Act had been repealed 
 
 On Norwich's oak so green, 
 On the topmost branch of the stately tree 
 
 A Phrygian cap was seen. 
 
 All: 
 When the Stamp Act was repealed the people erected a tent under oak- 
 spreading branches, and encouraged each other to resist all acts of oppression. 
 
 Twelfth Child : 
 
 And Washington in 'seventy-five, 
 
 'Neath Cambridge's elm tree came, 
 To take command of the army 
 
 'Mid the people's loud acclaim. 
 
 Thirteenth Child: 
 
 And still on the green at Cambridge 
 
 The old tree stands to-day, , 
 Though rebel and tory long ago, 
 
 To dust have mouldered away. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 All: 
 This famous elm is still standing. It is also celebrated as the one under 
 which Whitefield preached. 
 
 All: 
 
 So to-day as we turn from the present 
 
 To the dusty past, we see 
 How many a great and noble deed 
 Is marked by a famous tree. 
 
 Lizzie M. Hadley. 
 
 MAGNOLIA-GRANDIFLORA. 
 
 AJESTIC flower! How purely beautiful 
 
 lVl Thou art, as rising from thy bower of green, 
 
 Those dark and glossy leaves so thick and full, 
 
 Thou standest like a high-born forest queen 
 Among thy maidens clustering round so fair; — 
 
 I love to watch thy sculptured form unfolding, 
 And look into thy depths, to image there 
 
 A fairy cavern, and while thus beholding, 
 And while thy breeze floats o'er thee, matchless flower, 
 
 I breathe the perfume, delicate and strong, 
 That comes like incense from thy petal-bower ; 
 
 My fancy roams those southern woods along, 
 Beneath that glorious tree, where deep among 
 
 The unsunned leaves thy large white flower-cups hung ! 
 
 Christopher Pearse Cranch. 
 
 THE YEW. 
 
 EREWHILE, on England's pleasant shores, our sires 
 Left not their churchyards unadorned with shades 
 Or blossoms, but indulgent to the strong 
 And natural dread of man's last home, the grave, 
 Its frost and silence — they disposed around, 
 To soothe the melancholy spirit that dwelt 
 Too sadly on life's close, the forms and hues 
 Of vegetable beauty. There the yew, 
 Green ever amid the snows of winter, told 
 Of immortality, and gracefully 
 The willow, a perpetual mourner, drooped ; 
 And there the gadding woodbine crept about, 
 And there the ancient ivy. 
 
 Bryant. The Bw-ial Place. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 139 
 
 THE FUNERAL TREE OF THE SOKOKIS. 
 
 " I have always admired," says Whittier, " the good taste of the Sokoki Indians around 
 Sebago Lake, who, when their chief died, dug around a beech tree, swaying it down, 
 and placed his body in the rent, and then let the noble tree fall back into its original 
 place, a green and beautiful monument for a son of the forest." — Extract from letter. 
 
 AROUND Sebago's lonely lake 
 There lingers not a breeze to break 
 The mirror which its waters wake. 
 
 With grave cold looks all sternly mute, 
 They break the damp turf at its foot, 
 And bare its coiled and twisted root. 
 
 The solemn pines along its shore, 
 The firs which hang its gray rocks o'er 
 Are painted on its glassy floor. 
 
 They heave the stubborn trunk aside, 
 The firm roots from the earth divide, — 
 The rent beneath yawns dark and wide. 
 
 Here in their hour of bitterness, come the 
 broken band of Sokokis seeking a grave 
 for their slaughtered chief. 
 
 And there the fallen chief is laid 
 In tasselled garbs of skins arrayed 
 And girded with his wampum-braid. 
 
 Fire and axe have swept it bare, 
 Save one lone beech unclosing there 
 Its light leaves in the vernal air. 
 
 'Tis done : the roots are backward sent 
 The beechen tree stands up unbent, — 
 The Indian's fitting monument. 
 
 There shall his fitting requiem be, 
 
 In northern winds, that, cold and free, 
 
 Howl nightly in the funeral tree. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 LADY GOLDEN-ROD. 
 
 0. 
 
 PRETTY Lady Golden-rod, 
 I'm glad you 've come to town ! 
 
 I saw you standing by the gate, 
 All in your yellow gown. 
 
 No one was with me, and I thought 
 You might be lonely, too ; 
 
 And so I took my card-case 
 And qame to visit you. 
 
 You 're fond of company, I know ; 
 
 You smile so at the sun, 
 And when the winds go romping past, 
 
 You bow to every one. 
 How you should ever know them all, 
 
 I'm sure I cannot tell ; 
 But when I come again, I hope 
 
 You'll know me just as well. 
 
 Carrie W. Bronson. 
 
 PINE-NEEDLES. 
 
 IF Mother Nature patches 
 The leaves of trees and vines, 
 I'm sure she does her darning 
 With needles of the pines ! 
 
 They are so long and slender ; 
 
 , And sometimes, in full view. 
 They have their thread of cobwebs, 
 And thimbles made of dew ! 
 
 Wm. H. Hayne. 
 
1 a ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 UNDER THE WASHINGTON ELM, CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 APRIL 27, l86l. 
 
 EIGHTY years have passed, and more, 
 Since under the brave old tree 
 Our fathers gathered in arms, and swore 
 They would follow the sign their banners bore, 
 And fight till the land was free. 
 
 Half of their work was done, 
 
 Half is left to do- 
 Cambridge, and Concord and Lexington ! 
 When the battle is fought and won, 
 
 What shall be told of you ? 
 
 Hark ! — 't is the south wind moans, — 
 
 Who are the martyrs down ? 
 Ah, the marrow was true in your children's bones 
 That sprinkled with blood the cursed stones 
 
 Of the murder-haunted town ! 
 
 What if the storm-clouds blow? 
 
 What if the green leaves fall ? 
 Better the crashing tempest's throe 
 Than the army of worms that gnawed below; 
 
 Trample them one and all ! 
 
 Then, when the battle is won, 
 
 And the land from traitors free, 
 Our children shall tell of the strife begun 
 When Liberty's second April sun 
 
 Was bright on our brave old tree. 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 FLOWERS AND FOLIAGE. 
 
 DID you ever think how different the world would be — .what a sad want 
 there would be in it — if it wanted flowers? The green herbage and 
 foliage are also beautiful both in form and in color. In winter, when the 
 plants are withered, and the trees are bare, how bleak and dreary the country 
 looks ! When spring returns, how gladly we watch the bursting of the buds, 
 and behold the trees and plants putting forth anew their leaves and blossoms ! 
 Bright flowers, green trees, and singing birds ! our hearts are the lighter for 
 them. 
 
THE WASHINGTON ELM CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 HI 
 
 DISCONTENT. 
 
 DOWN in a field, one day in June, 
 The flowers all bloomed together, 
 Save one, who tried to hide herself, 
 
 And drooped, that pleasant weather. 
 
 A robin who had flown too high, 
 
 And felt a little lazy, 
 Was resting near this buttercup 
 
 Who wished she were a daisy; 
 
 For daisies grow so trig and tall ! 
 
 — She always had a passion 
 For wearing frills around her neck, 
 
 In just the daisies' fashion. 
 
 And buttercups must always be 
 The same old tiresome color; 
 
 While daisies dress in gold and white, 
 Although their gold is duller. 
 
 " Dear robin," said this sad young flower, 
 " Perhaps you'd not mind trying 
 To find a nice white frill for me, 
 
 Some day when you are flying?" 
 
 " You silly thing ! " the robin said, 
 " I think you must be crazy; 
 I'd rather be my honest self 
 Than any made-up daisy. 
 
 " You're nicer in your own bright gown; 
 The little children love you: 
 Be the best buttercup you can, 
 
 And think no flower above you. 
 
 " Though swallows leave me out of sight, 
 We'd better keep our places: 
 Perhaps the world would all go wrong 
 With one too many daisies. 
 
 Look bravely up into the sky, 
 
 And be content with knowing 
 
 That God wished for a buttercup 
 
 Just here, where you are growing." 
 
 Sara O. Jewett. 
 
 UNITED. 
 
 A 
 
 SUMACH tall, 
 By a garden wall, 
 Bloomed through the summer air; 
 Within there grew, 
 Of every hue, 
 Flowers exceeding fair. 
 
 The sumach burned, 
 When the dahlia turned 
 
 Her laughing face of gold, 
 To where he stood, 
 By the rough dogwood, 
 
 Outside of the garden fold. 
 
 An outcast he, • 
 
 Yet, tenderly 
 He loved the garden queen, 
 
 And well she knew, 
 
 So close they grew, 
 With but a wall between. 
 
 What mattered birth ? 
 
 The selfsame earth 
 Had nursed their infant seed; 
 
 But custom said: 
 " No flower should wed 
 A rough, plebeian weed." 
 
 One chilly night, 
 
 The frost king's blight, 
 
 Fell over woods and farms; 
 Next day, quite dead, 
 The dahlia's head 
 
 Lay in the sumach's arms. 
 
 Helen F. O'Neill. 
 
142 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THE FLOWERS. 
 
 TT is six," the swallows twittered, "and you're very late in rising — 
 X If you really think of rising on this lovely morn at all — 
 For the great red sun is peeping over wood and hill and meadow, 
 And the unmilked cows are lowing in the dimly-lighted stall." 
 
 Oh, ye robins and ye swallows, thought I, throwing back the lattice. 
 Ye are noisy, joyous fellows, and you waken when you will ; 
 
 Then I saw a dainty letter, bound in ribbon-grass and clover, 
 
 That the swallows had left swinging by the narrow window-sill. 
 
 Oh, the dainty, dainty letter, on an orange leaf, or lemon, 
 
 Signed, "Your friend, the Queen of Roses," writ in characters of dew; 
 " You're invited to the garden, there's a good time there at seven, 
 And a place beside the apple-tree has been reserved for you." 
 
 "There'll be matings there, and marriages, of every flower and blossom; 
 Cross the brook behind the arbor, and come early, if you can." 
 Oh, my thoughts they all went bounding, and my heart leaped in my bosom, 
 "And how sweetly she composes," I reflected as I ran. 
 
 There she sat, the Queen of Roses, with her virgins all about her, 
 
 While the lilacs and the apple-blooms seemed waiting her command. 
 
 Oh, how lovely, oh, how gracious, she did smile on each new comer; 
 Oh, how sweet she kissed the lilies as she took them \>y the hand. 
 
 Never had I seen her fairer than she was this happy morning, 
 
 Never knew her breath delicious, half so boundless, half so rare ; 
 
 Oh, she seemed a thing of heaven, with the dew upon her bosom, 
 And I wished I were some daffodil, that I might kiss it there. 
 
 All at once the grass rows parted, and the sweetest notes were sounded, 
 There was music, there was odor, there was loving in the air; 
 
 And a hundred joyous gallants, robed in holiday apparel, 
 
 Danced beneath the lilac bushes with a hundred maidens fair. 
 
 There were tulips proud and yellow, with their great green spears beside 
 them; 
 
 There were lilies grandly bowing to the rose queen as they came ; 
 There were daffodils so stately, scenting all the air of heaven ; 
 
 Joyous buds and sleeping poppies, with their banners all aflame. 
 
 There were pansies robed in purple, marching o'er the apple-blossoms 
 And the foxgloves with their pages tripped coquettishly along; 
 
 And the violets and the daisies, in their bonnets blue and yellow, 
 Joined the marching and parading of th' innumerable throng. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 1 43 
 
 All at once the dandelion blew three notes upon his trumpet ; 
 
 " Choose ye partners for the dancing, gallant knights and ladies fair; " 
 And the honeysuckle court'sied to the young sweet-breathed clematis, 
 And remarked upon the sweetness of the blossoms in her hair. 
 
 We're the tallest," said the tuberose to the iris, standing nearest, 
 
 "And suppose that now, for instance, I should offer )^ou my heart?" 
 Oh, how sudden," cried the sly thing; " I am really quite embarrassed — 
 Unexpected, but pray do it, just to give the rest a start." 
 
 Then a daisy kissed a pansy, with its jacket brown and yellow, 
 And the crocus led a thistle to a seat beside the rose ; 
 
 And the maybells grouped together, close beside the lady-slipper, 
 And commented on the beauty and the splendor of her clothes. 
 
 Oh, a market this for beautjr," said a jasmine, gently clinging 
 
 To the strong arm of an orange, as a glance on him she threw, 
 ' Why, you scarcely would believe it, but I've had this very morning 
 Twenty offers, and declined them, just to promenade with you." 
 
 So in groupings or in couples, led each knight some gentle lady, 
 
 Led some fair companion blushing, past the windrows fresh and green; 
 
 And the sweet rose gave her blessing, and a kiss at times, it may be, 
 To the fairest brides and sweetest, mortal eye hath ever seen. 
 
 Then again the grass it parted, and the sunshine it grew brighter, 
 Till it seemed as if the curtains of high heaven were withdrawn, 
 
 And each flower and bud and blossom pressed some fair one to its bosom, 
 As the bannered train danced gaily 'twixt the windrows on the lawn. 
 
 Oh, the musk-rose was so stately ! and so stately was the queen rose ! 
 And how sweetly smiled she on me as she whispered in my ear, 
 ' Come again ; you know you're welcome; come again, dear, for it may be 
 That our baby buds and blossoms will be christened here next year." 
 Adjutant S. H. M. Byers, Oskaloosa, Iowa. 
 
 A GRAIN OF CORN. 
 
 A GRAIN of corn an infant's hand 
 May plant upon an inch of land, 
 Whence twenty stalks may spring and yield 
 Enough to stock a little field. 
 
 The harvest of that field might then 
 
 Be multiplied to ten times ten, 
 
 Which sown thrice more, would furnish bread 
 
 Wherewith an army might be fed. 
 
1 44 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE WILD VIOLET. 
 
 VIOLET, violet, sparkling with dew, 
 Down in the meadow-land wild where you grew, 
 How did you come by the beautiful blue 
 With which your soft petals unfold ? 
 And how do you hold up your tender young head, 
 When rude sweeping winds rush along o'er your bed, 
 And dark, gloomy clouds, ranging over you, shed 
 Their waters so heavy and cold ? 
 
 No one has nursed you or watched you an hour, 
 Or found you a place in the garden or bower ; 
 And no one can yield me so lovely a flower 
 
 As here I have found at my feet. 
 Speak, my sweet violet ! answer and tell 
 How you have grown up and flourished so well, 
 And look so contented where lowly you dwell, 
 
 And we thus by accident meet ! 
 
 "The same careful hand,'* the violet said, 
 "That holds up the firmament, holds up my head; 
 And He who with azure the skies overspread 
 
 Has painted the violet blue. 
 He sprinkles the stars out above me by night, 
 And sends down the sunbeams at morning with light, 
 To make my new coronet sparkling and bright, 
 When formed of a drop of His dew. 
 
 "I've naught to fear from the black heavy cloud, 
 Or the breath of the tempest that comes strong and loud, 
 Where, born in the lowland, and far from the crowd, 
 
 I know and I live but for One. 
 He soon forms a mantle about me to cast, 
 Of long, silken grass, till the rain and the blast, 
 And all that seemed threatening, have harmlessly passed 
 As the clouds scud before the warm sun ! " 
 
 Hannah F. Gould. 
 
 APRIL. 
 
 NOW daisies pied, and violets blue, Do paint the meadows with delight ; 
 
 And lady-smocks all silver white, The cuckoo now on every tree, 
 And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue, Sings cuckoo ! cuckoo ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. Iz jr 
 
 THE LIVE OAK. 
 
 WITH his gnarled old arms, and his iron form 
 Majestic in the wood, 
 From age to age, in the sun and storm, 
 
 The live-oak long hath stood, 
 With his stately air, that grave old tree, 
 
 He stands like a hooded monk, 
 With the gray moss waving solemnly 
 From his shaggy limbs and trunk. 
 
 And the generations come and go, 
 
 And still he stands upright, 
 And he sternly looks on the wood below, 
 
 As conscious of his might. 
 But a mourner sad is the hoary tree, 
 
 A mourner sad and lone, 
 And is clothed in funeral drapery 
 
 For the long-since dead and gone. 
 
 For the Indian hunter, beneath his shade, 
 
 Has rested from the chase ; 
 And he here has wooed his dusky maid — 
 
 The dark-eyed of her race; 
 And the tree is red with the gushing gore, 
 
 As the wild deer panting dies ; 
 But the maid is gone and the chase is o'er, 
 
 And the old oak hoarsely sighs. 
 
 In former days, when the battle's din 
 
 Was loud amid the land, 
 In his friendly shadow, few and thin, 
 
 Have gathered Freedom's band ; 
 And the stern old oak, how proud was he 
 
 To shelter hearts so brave ! 
 But they all are gone, — the bold and free, — 
 
 And he moans above their grave. 
 
 And the aged oak, with his locks of gray, 
 
 Is ripe for the sacrifice ; 
 For the worm and decay, no lingering prey, 
 
 Shall he tower towards the skies ! 
 He falls, he falls, to become our guard, 
 
 The bulwark of the free ; 
 And his bosom of steel is proudly bared 
 
 To brave the raging sea ! 
 10 
 
I4 6 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 When the battle comes, and the cannon's roar 
 
 Booms o'er the shuddering deep, 
 Then nobly he'll bear the bold hearts o'er 
 
 The waves, with bounding leap. 
 O, may those hearts be as firm and true, 
 
 When the war-clouds gather dun, 
 As the glorious oak that proudly grew 
 
 Beneath our southern sun. 
 
 Henry R. Jackson. 
 
 READY FOR DUTY. 
 
 DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY. 
 
 DAFFY-down-dilly came up in the cold* 
 Through the brown mould, 
 Although the March breezes blew keen on her face, 
 Although the white snow lay on many a place. 
 
 Daffy-down-dilly had heard under ground 
 
 The sweet rushing sound 
 Of the streams as they burst off their white winter chains — 
 Of the whistling spring winds and the pattering rains. 
 
 " Now, then," thought Daffy, deep down in her heart, 
 " It's time I should start ! " 
 So she pushed her soft leaves through the hard frozen ground. 
 Quite up to the surface, and then she looked round. 
 
 There was snow all about her, — gray clouds overhead, — 
 
 The trees all looked dead: 
 Then how do you think Daffy-down-dilly felt 
 When the sun would not shine, and the ice would not melt ? 
 
 "Cold weather ! " thought Daffy, still working away : 
 " The earth's hard to-day ! 
 There 's but a half inch of my leaves to be seen, 
 And two-thirds of that is more yellow than green ! 
 
 *' I can't do much yet; but I'll do what I can, 
 It's well I began ! 
 For, unless I can manage to lift up my head, 
 The people will think that the Spring-time is dead." 
 
 So, little by little, she brought her leaves out, 
 
 All clustered about ; 
 And then her bright flowers began to unfold, 
 Till Daffy stood robed in her spring green and gold. 
 
 O, Daffy-down-dilly ! so brave and so true ! 
 
 Would all were like you, — 
 So ready for duty in all sorts of weather, 
 And loyal to courage and duty together. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 147 
 
 THE GLADNESS OF NATURE. 
 
 IS this a time to be cloudy and sad, 
 When, our mother Nature laughs around, 
 When even the deep blue heavens look glad, 
 
 And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground? 
 
 There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, 
 And the gossip of swallows through all the sky ; 
 
 The ground-squirrel gayly chirps by his den, 
 And the wilding bee hums merrily by. 
 
 The clouds are at play in the azure space, 
 
 And their shadows at play on the bright green vale, 
 And here they stretch to the frolic chase, 
 
 And there the)'- roll on the easy gale. 
 
 There 's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower; 
 
 There 's a titter of winds in that beechen tree ; 
 There 's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, 
 
 And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. 
 
 And look at the broad-faced sun ; how he smiles 
 On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray, 
 
 On the leaping waters and gay young isles — 
 Ay, look, and he'll smile thy gloom away ! 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 THEY'VE CUT THE WOOD AWAY. 
 
 They've cut the wood away, 
 The cool green wood, 
 
 Wherein I used to play 
 In happy mood. 
 
 The woodman's ax has cleft 
 
 Each noble tree, 
 And now, alas, is left 
 
 No shade for me. 
 
 The brooks that flow in May 
 
 Are dry before 
 The first hot summer day, 
 
 And flow no more. 
 
 The fields are brown and bare, 
 
 And parched with heat; 
 No more doth hover there 
 The pine scents sweet. 
 Boston Journal. 
 
 No more his note is heard 
 
 To blithely ring 
 Where erst the woodland bird 
 
 Would sit and sing. 
 
 No more the wood-flowers bloom 
 Where once they bloomed 
 
 Amid the emerald gloom 
 Of ferns entombed. 
 
 Fled, now, the woodland sights, 
 
 The scented air ! 
 Fled, all the sweet delights 
 
 That once were there ! 
 
 And fled the gracious mood 
 
 That came to me, 
 When to that quiet wood 
 
 I used to flee ! 
 
1 48 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 ARBUTUS. 
 
 SWEET welcome to thee, dainty winsome flower ! 
 Beloved ! bringing joy for April's tears, 
 
 Upspringing in the track of wintry fears 
 That ghostly haunt spring's timid, 'wakening hour. 
 The banished months have left thee beauty's power : 
 
 The autumn, crimson blush ; its snowy kiss, 
 
 The dying winter; and the summer's bliss 
 Of fragrance in thy breath — a precious dower ! 
 
 What blossom so beloved as thou dost hide 
 As thou, 'neath rusty leaves that men despise ? 
 
 Thus rest unseen, till covert torn aside 
 Thy secret yields. Then gladden with surprise 
 And new-born hope, some sad soul's yearning eyes, 
 That under death such living joys abide. 
 Chautanquan, April, 1888. ANNE Hall. 
 
 THE WOODLAND IN SPRING. 
 
 E'EN in the spring and play-time of the year, 
 That calls th' unwonted villager abroad 
 With all her little ones, a sportive train, 
 To gather kingcups in the yellow mead, 
 And prink their hair with daisies, or to pick 
 A cheap but wholesome salad from the brook ; 
 These shades are all my own. The timorous hare, 
 Grown so familiar with her frequent guest, 
 Scarce shuns me ; and the stock-dove, unalarmed, 
 Sits cooing in the pine tree, nor suspends 
 His long love-ditty for my near approach. 
 Drawn from' his refuge in some lonely elm, 
 That age or injury has hollowed deep, 
 Where on his bed of wool and matted leaves, 
 He has outslept the winter, ventures forth 
 To frisk awhile, and bask in the warm sun, 
 The squirrel, flippant, pert and full of play ; 
 He sees me, and at once, swift as a bird, 
 Ascends the neighboring beech ; there whisks his brush, 
 And perks his ears, and stamps and cries aloud, 
 With all the prettiness of feigned alarm, 
 And anger insignificantly fierce. Cowper. 
 
 To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new. 
 
 Milton's Lycidas. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 149 
 
 AN APRIL DAY. 
 
 WHEN the warm sun that brings 
 Seed time and harvest, has returned again, 
 Tis sweet to visit the still wood, where springs 
 The first flower of the plain. 
 
 I love the season well, 
 
 When forest glades are teeming with bright forms, 
 Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell 
 
 The coming-on of storms. 
 
 From the earth's loosening mould 
 
 The sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives; 
 Though stricken to the heart with winter's cold, 
 
 The drooping tree revives. 
 
 The softly warbled song 
 
 Comes from the pleasant woods, and colored wings 
 Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along 
 
 The forest openings. 
 
 When the bright sunset fills 
 
 The silver woods with light, the green slope throws 
 Its shadows in the hollows of the hills, 
 
 And wide the upland grows. 
 
 And when the eve is born, 
 
 In the blue lake the sky, o'er reaching far, 
 Is hollowed out, and the moon dips her horn, 
 
 And twinkles many a star. 
 
 Inverted in the tide 
 
 Stand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows throw, 
 And the fair trees look over, side by side, 
 
 And see themselves below. 
 
 Sweet April ! many a thought 
 
 Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed ; 
 Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought, 
 
 Life's golden fruit is shed. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 One impulse from 'a vernal wood, 
 
 May teach you more of man, 
 Of moral evil and of good, 
 
 Than all the sages can. WORDSWORTH. 
 
I 50 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 SPRING POINTING TO GOD. 
 
 Loosed from the bands of frost, the verdant ground 
 
 Again puts on her robe of cheerful green, 
 Again puts forth her flowers ; and all around, 
 
 Smiling, the cheerful face of spring is seen. 
 
 Behold the trees new-deck their withered boughs; 
 
 Their ample leaves the hospitable plane, 
 The taper elm, and lofty ash disclose; 
 
 The blooming hawthorn variegates the scene. 
 
 The lily of the vale, of flowers the queen, 
 
 Puts on the robe she neither sewed nor spun : 
 
 The birds on ground, or on the branches green, 
 Hop to and fro, and glitter in the sun. 
 
 Soon as o'er eastern hills the morning peers, 
 
 From her low nest the tufted lark up-springs ; 
 
 And cheerful singing, up the air she steers; 
 
 Still high she mounts, still loud and sweet she sings. 
 
 On the green furze, clothed o'er with golden blooms, 
 
 That fill the air with fragrance all around, 
 The linnet sits, and tricks his glossy plumes. 
 
 While o'er the wild his broken notes resound. 
 
 While the sun journeys down the western sky, 
 
 Along the greensward, marked with Roman mound, 
 
 Beneath the blithesome shepherd's watchful eye, 
 The cheerful lambkins dance and frisk around. 
 
 Now is the time for those who wisdom love, 
 
 Who love to walk in virtue's flowery road, 
 Along the lovely paths of spring to rove, 
 
 And follow Nature up to Nature's God. 
 
 Bruce. 
 
 O, willow, why forever weep, 
 
 As one who mourns an endless wrong? 
 What hidden woe can lie so deep? 
 
 What utter grief can last so long ? 
 Mourn on forever, unconsoled, 
 
 And keep your secret, faithful tree ! 
 No heart in all the world can hold 
 
 A sweeter grace than constancy. 
 
 Elizabeth Allen. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 151 
 
 MAY. 
 
 HEN apple-trees in blossom are, When happy shepherds tell their tale 
 
 And cherries of a silken white; Under the tender leafy tr«e; 
 
 w 
 
 And king-cups deck the meadows fair; And all adown the grassy vale 
 
 And daffodils in brooks delight; The mocking cuckoo chanteth free; 
 
 When golden wall-flowers bloom around, And Philomel, with liquid throat, 
 
 And purple violets scent the ground, Doth pour the welcome, warbling note, 
 
 And lilac 'gins to show her bloom, — That had been all the winter dumb, — 
 
 We then may say the May is come. We then may say the May is come. 
 
 When fishes leap in silver stream, 
 
 And tender corn is springing high, 
 And banks are warm with sunny beam, 
 
 And twittering swallows cleave the sky, 
 And forest bees are humming near, 
 And cowslips in boys' hats appear, 
 And maids do wear the meadow's bloom, — 
 We then may say the May is come. 
 
 Clarke. 
 
 EARLY SPRING. 
 
 THE hawthorn whitens, and the juicy groves 
 Put forth their buds unfolding by degrees, 
 Till the whole leafy forest stands displayed, 
 In full luxuriance, to the sighing gales ; 
 Where the deer rustle through the twining brake, 
 And the birds sing concealed. At once, arrayed 
 In all the colors of the flushing year, 
 By Nature's swift and secret-working hand, 
 The garden glows, and fills the liberal air 
 With lavish fragrance : while the promised fruit 
 Lies yet a little embryo, unperceived, 
 Within its crimson folds. Now from the town, 
 Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps, 
 Oft let me wander o'er the dewy fields, 
 Where freshness breathes, and dash the trembling drops 
 From the bent bush as through the verdant maze 
 Of sweet-brier hedges I pursue my walk ; 
 Or taste the smell of dairy : or ascend 
 Some eminence, Augusta, in thy plains, 
 And see the country far diffused around, 
 One boundless blush, one white-empurpled shower 
 Of mingled blossoms, where the raptured eye 
 Hurries from joy to joy. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
I 5 2 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF POETRY. 
 
 THERE is a quiet spirit in these woods, 
 That dwells where'er the gentle south wind blows ; 
 Where, underneath the white thorn, in the glade, 
 The wild flowers bloom, or kissing the soft air, 
 The leaves above their sunny palms outspread. 
 With what a tender and impassioned voice 
 It fills the nice and delicate ear of thought, 
 When the fast-ushering star of morning comes 
 O'er riding the gray hills with golden scarf; 
 Or when the cowled and dusky-sandaled Eve, 
 In mourning weeds, from out the western gate, 
 Departs with silent pace ! That spirit moves 
 In the green valley, where the silver brook, 
 From its full laver, pours the white cascade; 
 And, babbling low amid the tangled woods, 
 Slips down through moss-grown stones with endless laughter. 
 
 And frequent on tne everlasting hills, 
 
 Its feet go forth, when it doth wrap itself 
 
 In all the dark embroidery of the storm, 
 
 And shouts the stern strong wind. And here, amid 
 
 The silent majesty of these deep woods, 
 
 Its presence shall uplift thy thoughts from earth, 
 
 As to the sunshine and the pure bright air 
 
 Their tops the green trees lift. Hence gifted bards 
 
 Have ever loved the calm and quiet shades. 
 
 For them there was an eloquent voice in all 
 
 The sylvan pomp of woods, the golden sun, 
 
 The flowers, the leaves, the river on its way, 
 
 Blue skies, and silver clouds, and gentle winds, 
 
 The swelling upland, where the sidelong sun 
 
 Aslant the wooded slope, at evening, goes, 
 
 Groves, through whose broken roof the sky looks in, 
 
 Mountain, and shattered cliff, and sunny vale, 
 
 The distant lake, fountains, and mighty trees, 
 
 In many a lazy syllable, repeating 
 
 Their old poetic legends to the wind. 
 
 And this is the sweet spirit, that doth fill 
 
 The world, and in these wayward days of youth, 
 
 My busy fancy oft embodies it, 
 
 As a bright image of the light and beauty 
 
 That dwell in nature ; of the heavenly forms 
 
 We worship in our dreams, and the soft hues 
 
 That stain the wild bird's wing, and flush the clouds 
 
• ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 1 53 
 
 When the sun sets. Within her tender eye 
 
 The heaven of April, with its changing light, 
 
 And when it wears the blue of May, js hung, 
 
 And on her lip the rich, red rose. Her hair 
 
 Is like the summer tresses of the trees 
 
 When twilight makes them brown, and on her cheek 
 
 Blushes the richness of an autumn sky,. 
 
 With ever-shifting beauty. Then her breath, 
 
 It is so like the gentle air of spring, 
 
 As, from the morning's dewy flowers, it comes 
 
 Full of their fragrance, that it is a joy 
 
 To have it round us, and her silver voice 
 
 Is the rich music of a summer bird, 
 
 Heard in the still night, with its passionate cadence. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 SPRING MORNING. 
 
 COME hither, come hither, and view the face 
 Of nature, enrobed in her vernal grace. 
 By the hedgerow wa)'side flowers are springing; 
 On the budding elms the birds are singing; 
 And up, up, up to the gates of heaven 
 Mounts the lark, on the wings of her rapture driven; 
 The voice of the streamlet is fresh and loud ; 
 On the sky there is not a speck of cloud : 
 Come hither, come hither, and join with me, 
 In the season's delightful jubilee ! 
 
 Come hither, come hither, and guess with me, 
 
 How fair and how fruitful the year will be ! 
 
 Look into the pasture-grounds o'er the pale, 
 
 And behold the foal w ; th its switching tail, 
 
 About and abroad, in its mirth it flies, 
 
 With its long black forelocks about its eyes ; 
 
 Or bends its neck down with a stretch, 
 
 The daisy's earliest flowers to reach. 
 
 See ! as on by the hawthorn fence we pass, 
 
 How the sheep are nibbling the tender grass, 
 
 Or holding their heads to the sunny ray, 
 
 As if their hearts, like its smile, were gay : 
 
 While the chattering sparrows, in and out, 
 
 Fly the shrubs, and the trees, and the roofs about, 
 
 And sooty rooks, loudly cawing roam, 
 
 With sticks and straws, to their woodland home. 
 
 Moir 
 
'54 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 SUNRISE ON THE HILLS. 
 
 I STOOD upon the hills, when heaven's wide arch 
 Was glorious with the sun's returning march, 
 And woods were brightened, and soft gales 
 Went forth to kiss the sun-clad vales. 
 The clouds were far beneath me ; bathed in light, 
 They gathered mid-way round the wooded height, 
 And, in their fading glory, shone 
 Like hosts in battle overthrown, 
 As many a pinnacle with shifting glance, 
 Through the gray mist thrust up its shattered lance, 
 And rocking on the cliff was left 
 The dark pine blasted, bare, and cleft. 
 The veil of cloud was lifted, and below 
 Glowed the rich valley, and the river's flow 
 Was darkened by the forest's shade, 
 Or glistened in the white cascade : 
 Where upward, in the mellow blush of day, 
 The noisy bittern wheeled his spiral way. 
 
 1 heard the distant waters dash, 
 
 I saw the current whirl and flash, 
 
 And richly, by the blue lake's silver beach, 
 
 The woods are bending with a silent reach. 
 
 Then o'er the gale with gentle swell, 
 
 The music of the village bell 
 
 Came sweetly to the echo-giving hills ; 
 
 And the wild horn, whose voice the woodland fills, 
 
 Was ringing to the merry shout, 
 
 That faint and far the glen sent out, 
 
 Where, answering to the sudden shot, thin smoke, 
 
 Through thick-leaved branches, from the dingle broke. 
 
 If thou art worn and hard beset 
 
 With sorrows, that thou would'st forget 
 
 If thou would'st read a lesson, that will keep 
 
 Thy heart from faintingand thy soul from sleep, 
 
 Go to the woods and hills ! No tears 
 
 Dim the sweet look that Nature wears. 
 
 Longfellow 
 
 Temperance is a tree which has for a root very little contentment, and for 
 
 fruit, calm and peace. 
 
 Buddha. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 155 
 
 FLOWERS. 
 
 SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, 
 One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, 
 When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, 
 Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine. 
 
 * >fi * * * ^ 
 
 Wondrous truths, and manifold as wondrous, 
 God hath written in those stars above ; 
 
 But not less in the bright flowerets under us 
 Stand the revelation of His love. 
 
 Bright and glorious is that revelation, 
 
 Written all over this great world of ours ; 
 
 Making evident our own creation, 
 
 In these stars of earth, these golden flowers. 
 
 Everywhere about us they are glowing, 
 
 Some like stars, to tell us Spring is born ; 
 
 Others, their blue eyes with tears o'erflowing, 
 Stand like Ruth amid the golden corn. 
 
 In all places then, and in all seasons, 
 
 Flowers expand their light and soul-like wings, 
 Teaching us, by most persuasive reasons, 
 
 How akin they are to human things. 
 
 And with childlike, credulous affection 
 We behold their tender buds expand ; 
 
 Emblems of our own great resurrection, 
 Emblems of the bright and better land. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 THE YOUNG DANDELION. 
 
 I AM a bold fellow 
 As ever was seen. 
 With my shield of yellow, 
 In the grass green. 
 
 You may uproot me 
 
 From field and from lane 
 Trample me, cut me, — 
 spring up again. 
 
 Drive me from garden 
 In anger and pride, 
 
 I'll thrive and harden 
 By the roadside. 
 
 Not a bit fearful, 
 
 Showing my face, 
 
 Always so cheerful, 
 In every place. 
 
 Mrs. Craik. 
 
156 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 IN all climates spring is beautiful. The birds begin to sing; they utter a few 
 joyful notes, and then wait for an answer in the silent woods. Those green- 
 coated musicians, the frogs, make holiday in the neighboring marshes. They, 
 too, belong to the orchestra of nature, whose vast theater is again opened, 
 though the doors have been so long bolted with icicles, and the scenery hung 
 with snow and frost like cobwebs. This is the prelude which announces the 
 opening of the scene. Already the grass shoots forth, the waters leap with 
 thrilling force through the veins of the earth, the sap through the veins of the 
 plants and trees, and the blood through the veins of man. What a thrill of 
 delight in spring-time ! What a joy in being and moving ! Men are at work in 
 gardens, and in the air there is an odor of the fresh earth. The leaf-buds begin 
 to swell and blush. The white blossoms of the cherry hang upon the boughs 
 like snow-flakes ; and ere long our next-door neighbor will be completely hidden 
 from us by the dense green foliage. The May-flowers open their soft blue eyes. 
 Children are let loose in the fields and gardens. They hold buttercups under 
 each other's chins, to see if they love butter. And the little girls adorn them- 
 selves with chains and curls of dandelions ; pull out the yellow leaves to see, 
 if the school-boy loves them, and blow the down from the leafless stalk, to 
 find out if their mothers want them at home. And at night so cloudless and so 
 still ! Not a voice of living thing, — not a whisper of leaf or waving bough, — 
 not a breath of wind, — not a sound upon the earth or in the air! And over- 
 head bends the blue sky, dewy and soft, and radiant with innumerable stars 
 like the inverted bell of some blue flower, sprinkled with golden dust, and 
 breathing fragrance. Or, if the heavens are overcast, it is no wild storm of 
 wind and rain, but clouds that melt and fall in showers. One does not wish to 
 sleep, but lies awake to hear the pleasant sound of the dropping rain. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 Stranger, these gloomy boughs 
 Had charms for him; and here he loved to sit, 
 His only visitants a straggling sheep, 
 The stone-chat, or the glancing sand-piper; 
 And on these barren rocks, with fern and heath 
 And juniper and thistle sprinkled o'er, 
 Fixing his downcast eye, he many an hour 
 A morbid pleasure nourished, tracing here 
 An emblem of his own unfruitful life ; 
 And, lifting up his head, he then would gaze 
 On the more distant scene — how lovely 'tis 
 Thou seest, — and he would gaze till it became 
 Far lovelier, and his heart could not sustain 
 
 The beauty, still more beauteous. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 157 
 
 THE NATIONAL FLOWER. 
 
 THEY have asked me to vote for a national flower; — 
 Now, which will it be, I wonder ! 
 To settle the question is out of my power; 
 But I'd rather not make a blunder. 
 
 And I love the Mayflower the best, — in May,- 
 
 Smiling up from its snow-drift-cover, 
 With its breath that is sweet as a kiss, to say 
 
 That the reign of winter is over. 
 
 And I love the Golden-rod, too, — for its gold ; 
 
 And because through autumn it lingers, 
 And offers more wealth than his hands can hold 
 
 To the grasp of the poor man's fingers. 
 
 I should like to vote for them both, if I might ; 
 
 But I do not feel positive whether 
 The flowers themselves would be neighborly quite ; — 
 
 Pink and yellow don't go together. 
 
 O yes, but they do ! — in the breezy wild rose, 
 
 The darlingest daughter of summer, 
 Whose heart with the sun's yellow gold overflows, 
 
 And whose blushes so well become her. 
 
 Instead of one flower, I will vote for three : 
 The Mayflowers know that I mean them ; 
 
 And the Golden-rod surely my choice will be, — 
 With the sweet Brier-rose between them. 
 
 You see I'm impartial. I've no way but this : 
 
 My vote, with a rhyme and a reason, 
 For the Mayflower, the Wild Rose, and Golden-rod, is ; — 
 
 A blossom for every season ! 
 St. Nicholas, September, 1889. LUCY LARCOM. 
 
 APRIL. 
 
 WHEN April, one day, was asked whether 
 She could make reliable weather, 
 She laughed till she cried, 
 And said " Bless you, I've tried, 
 
 But the things will get mixed up together." 
 St. Nicholas, May, 1889, JESSIE McDERMOTT. 
 
158 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 W 
 
 BREATHINGS OF SPRING. 
 
 HAT wak'st thou, Spring ? — sweet voices in the woods, 
 And reed-like echoes, that have long been mute ; 
 Thou bringest back, to fill the solitudes, 
 
 The lark's clear pipe, the cuckoo's viewless flute, 
 Whose tone seems breathing mournfulness or glee, 
 Even as our hearts may be. 
 
 And the leaves greet thee, Spring ! — the joyous leaves, 
 Whose tremblings gladden many a copse and glade, 
 
 Where each young spray a rosy flush receives, 
 
 When thy south wind hath pierced the whispery shade, 
 
 And happy murmurs, running through the grass, 
 
 Tell that thy footsteps pass. 
 
 And the bright waters — they, too, hear thy call, 
 
 Spring, the awakener ! thou hast burst their sleep ! 
 
 Amidst the hollows of the rocks their fall 
 Makes melody, and in the forests deep. 
 
 Where sudden sparkles and blue gleams betray 
 
 Their windings to the day. 
 
 And flowers — the fairy-peopled world of flowers ! 
 
 Thou from the dust hast set that glory free, 
 Coloring the cowslip with the sunny hours, 
 
 And penciling the wood-anemone: 
 Silent they seem ; yet each to thoughtful eye 
 Glows with mute poesy. 
 
 But what awak'st thou in the heart, O Spring ! — 
 The human heart, with all its dreams and sighs ? 
 
 Thou that giv'st back so many a buried thing, 
 Restorer of forgotten harmonies ! 
 
 Fresh songs and scents break forth where 'er thou art : 
 
 What wak'st thou in the heart ? 
 
 Too much, oh, there, too much ! — we know not well 
 Wherefore it should be thus ; yet, roused by thee, 
 
 What fond, strange yearnings, from the soul's deep cell, 
 Gush for the faces we no more may see ! 
 
 How are we haunted, in thy wind's low tone, 
 
 By voices that are gone ! 
 
 Looks of familiar love, that never more 
 
 Never on earth, our aching eyes shall meet, 
 Past words of welcome to our household door, 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I 59 
 
 And vanished smiles, and sounds of parted feet- 
 Spring, midst the murmurs of thy flowering trees, 
 Why, why revivest thou these ? 
 
 Vain longings for the dead ! — why come they back 
 
 With thy young birds, and leaves, and living blooms? 
 
 O, is it not that from thine earthly track 
 
 Hope to thy world may look beyond the tombs ? 
 
 Yes, gentle Spring; no sorrow dims thine air, 
 
 Breathed by our loved ones there. 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 T 1 
 
 THE WONDERFUL TREE. 
 
 •'T^HERE'S a wonderful tree, a wonderful tree, 
 The happy children rejoice to see ; 
 Spreading its branches year by year, 
 It comes from the forest to flourish here. 
 And this wonderful tree, with its branches wide, 
 Is always blooming at Christmas-tide. 
 
 " Tis not alone in the summer's sheen, 
 Its boughs are broad and its leaves are green ; 
 It blooms for us when the wild winds blow, 
 And earth is white with feathery snow. 
 And this wonderful tree, with its branches wide, 
 Bears many a gift at the Christmas-tide. 
 
 " For a voice is telling its boughs among 
 Of the shepherds' watch and angels' song; 
 Of a holy Babe in a manger low, — 
 The beautiful story of long ago, — 
 When a radiant star threw its beams so wide 
 To herald the earliest Christmas-tide. 
 
 " Then spread thy branches, wonderful tree, 
 And bring the pleasant thought to me 
 Of Him who came from His home above, 
 The richest gift of the Father's love, 
 To show us how to spread far and wide 
 The joys of the holy Christmas-tide." 
 
 Flowers are the sweetest things that God ever made and forgot to put a 
 soul into. 
 
 Beecher. 
 
j 6 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Written for the "Arbor Day Manual " 
 
 THE TREE OF STATE.* 
 
 DEDICATED TO THE MAPLE. 
 
 EMBLEM Tree of the Empire State ! 
 Thy virtues on this festal day 
 Cheerfully I commemorate, 
 
 And own allegiance, to thy sway. 
 Deep-rooted in thy native soil, 
 Field of all my earlier toil, — 
 Sepulchre which holds in trust 
 For future time my kindred dust; 
 Play-ground of my childhood years, 
 Cradle of my loves, dreams, fears, — 
 The very dust is dear which creeps 
 About thy roots, and vigil keeps ; 
 And every fiber of thy growth 
 Endeared to me since early youth, 
 Grows dearer still while dreaming where 
 Magnolia blooms fill all the air. 
 * * ^ ^ * * 
 
 I see thee now, before the storm king bending, 
 
 As I have seen thee oft and fled from under, 
 When lightning flashes scarce begun, scarce ending, 
 Their work have told in tones of fiercest thunder; 
 And thou wast beautiful and great, 
 O, Emblem Tree of the Empire State ! 
 
 I see thee now, well rounded, calm and blending 
 
 Shades and touches by deft nature's brush, 
 And o'er the whole the latest sunset lending 
 
 That strange soft something twixt a glow and flush, 
 Which holds entranced. E'en now I wait, 
 Loved Emblem Tree of the Empire State ! 
 
 And lo ! Behold ! Two happy lovers straying 
 
 Draw near; while sympathetic moon beams stealing 
 Athwart their path, their earnestness betraying, 
 And all unconsciously their love revealing, 
 Are shadowed, with the pair who wait 
 'Neath thy dense shade, O Tree of State ! 
 
 E'en merry urchins 'neath thy branches swinging, 
 
 Refresh themselves at thy o'erflowing fountain, 
 And praises loud in childish glee are ringing, 
 
 As one by one thy topmost branches mounting, 
 Each vies with each, O Tree of State ! 
 While echoing- hills reiterate. 
 
 * By a vote of those who participated in the Arbor Day exercises of 1S89, in New York State, the Maple 
 was chosen as the State Tree. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 161 
 
 I see them now, thy garnered leaves adorning 
 
 The palace hall and hovel, yea the bier, 
 They turn the night of poverty to morning 
 
 And bring to gilded homes a touch of cheer, 
 And even death they decorate — 
 Thy leaves, O cherished Tree of State ! 
 
 But words are sounding voids when hands are waiting 
 
 To set the royal seal of praise to-day ; 
 And show a love enduring, unabating, 
 
 By planting thy dear rootlets by the way. 
 
 Long live the Maple, grand and great ! 
 Proud Emblem Tree of the Empire State ! 
 St. Augustine, Fla. Mrs. B. C. KuDE. 
 
 Written for the "Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 CHILD AND TREE. 
 
 FOR A LITTLE CHILD S RECITATION. 
 
 I'M like the tiny tree 
 The children plant to-day; 
 And not to blame you see, 
 For making no display. 
 
 To grow we both have room; 
 
 And so we patient wait; 
 And some day may become 
 
 An honor to the State. 
 
 The tiny little tree 
 
 Can never move a pace; 
 But busy as a bee, 
 
 / flit from place to place. 
 
 Because that I am free 
 
 To stud}', and to know, 
 
 There's more required of me, 
 Than standing still to grow. 
 
 Walerlown, A T . Y. 
 
 I move and bring things near, 
 
 The tree must stand and wait; 
 
 But each one in its sphere 
 
 May grow both good and great. 
 
 E. A. HoLBROOK. 
 
 The robin and the blue-bird, piping loud, 
 
 Filled all the blossoming orchards with their glee ; 
 The sparrows chirped as if they still were proud 
 
 Their race in holy writ should mentioned be; 
 And hungry crows assembled in a crowd, 
 
 Clamored their piteous prayer incessantly, 
 Knowing who hears the ravens' cry, and said, 
 " Give us, O Lord, this day our daily bread ! " 
 
 11 Longfellow, 
 
1 62 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 ELM VERSUS APPLE. 
 
 THE elm, in all the landscape green, 
 Is fairest of God's stately trees : 
 She is a gracious-mannered queen 
 
 Full of soft bends and courtesies. 
 
 But though her slender shadows play 
 
 Their game of bo-peep on the grass, 
 The hot kine pause not on their way, 
 
 But panting to the thick oaks pass. 
 
 And though the robins go, as guests, 
 
 To swing among the elm's soft leaves, 
 
 When they would build their snug round nests 
 They choose the rough old apple-trees. 
 
 The apple has no sinuous arms, 
 
 No smooth obeisance in her ways; 
 She lacks the elm's compliant charms, 
 
 Yet she commands my better praise. 
 
 •fc sjc %. ^ * &• 
 
 Wide Awake, October, 1886. May Riley Smith. 
 
 BY SUMMER WOODS. 
 
 THE leafy city of the birds 
 Is quiet now in every street — 
 The little people all, have gone to sleep. 
 Up from the river come the herds, 
 With dripping mouths and lingering feet ; 
 And slowly earthward shades of evening creep. 
 
 The chirr of insects fainter grows ; 
 
 The dusky bat his dungeon leaves, 
 
 And noiseless flits upon his nightly quest. 
 
 The flowers their dewy eyelids close ; 
 
 A lullaby the cricket weaves, 
 
 And nature folds her hands in balmy rest. 
 
 So fades in gloom the summer day. 
 Oh ! drearer now each leaf and blade, 
 And gentle band of beauty-haloed flowers ! 
 For stains of blood they hide away, 
 In lonely glens and battle glade, 
 While peace and concord smile amid our bowers. 
 Hours at Home. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 163 
 
 A CHILD TO A ROSE. 
 
 WHITE Rose, talk to me ! 
 I don't know what to do. 
 Why do you say no word to me 
 
 Who say so much to you ? 
 I'm bringing you a little rain 
 
 And I shall feel so proud 
 If, when you feel it in your face, 
 
 You take me for a cloud. 
 Here I come so softly 
 
 You cannot hear me walking ; 
 If I take you by surprise 
 
 I may catch you talking. 
 
 White Rose, are j r ou tired 
 
 Of staying in one place? 
 Do you ever wish to see 
 
 The wild flowers, face to face ? 
 Do you know the woodbines, 
 
 And the big brown-crested reeds? 
 Do you wonder how they live 
 
 So friendly with the weeds? 
 
 Have you any work to do 
 
 When you 've finished growing ? 
 Shall you teach your little buds 
 
 Pretty ways of blowing? 
 
 Do you ever go to sleep ? 
 
 Once I woke by night, 
 And looked out of the window: 
 
 And there you stood, moon-white, 
 Moon-white in a mist of darkness, — 
 
 With never a word to say ; 
 But you seemed to move a little, 
 
 And then I ran away. 
 
 White Rose, do you love me? 
 
 I only wish you'd say. 
 I would work hard to please you 
 
 If I but knew the way. 
 I think you nearly perfect 
 
 In spite of all your scorns ; 
 But, White Rose, if I were you, 
 
 I -wouldn't have those thorns. 
 
 LEGEND OF THE ASPEN. 
 
 Some Canadians have conceived a very superstitious idea of this tree. They say that 
 of its wood the cross was made on which our Saviour was nailed, and that since the time 
 of the crucifixion, its leaves have not ceased to tremble. — Indian Sketches of P. DeSmet. 
 
 O'ER the forests of Judea 
 Gayly earl)'- morning played, 
 When some men came armed with axes 
 Deep into the forest shade. 
 
 Passed by many a tree majestic — 
 Cypress grove and olive wood, 
 
 Till they came wherein the thicket 
 Fair and proud the Aspen stood. 
 
 " This will serve, — we choose the Aspen, 
 For its stem is strong and high, 
 
 For the cross on which to-morrow 
 Must a malefactor die." 
 
 In the air did listening spirits 
 
 Shrink those men to hear and see, 
 And with awful voice they whisper: 
 "Jesus, 'tis, of Galilee !" 
 Hours at Home, 1865. 
 
 The Aspen heard them and she trembled — 
 Trembled at that fearful sound — 
 
 As they hewed her down and dragged her 
 Slowly from the forest ground. 
 
 On the morrow stood she trembling 
 At the awful weight she bore, 
 
 When the sun in midnight blackness 
 Darkened on Judea's shore. 
 
 Still, — when not a breeze is stirring, 
 When the mist sleeps on the hill, 
 
 And all other trees are moveless, 
 Stands she ever trembling still. 
 
 For in hush of noon or midnight 
 
 Still she seems that sight to see, 
 
 Still she seems to hear that whisper; 
 "Jesus, 'tis, of Galilee ! " 
 
164 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 A SONG FOR MAY. 
 
 A SONG for May, whose breath is sweet 
 With blossoms growing at our feet ; 
 Her voice is heard in laughing rills 
 That ripple down the sunny hills, 
 O happy, happy May. 
 The robin in the Cherry tree 
 Is blithe as any bird can be ; 
 And bubbling from his silver throat, 
 His wordless songs of rapture float. 
 O happy, happy May. 
 Vick's Magazine. 
 
 Above the hills the firmament 
 Bends down about us like a tent, 
 And we, O, fairy-footed May, 
 Are dwellers in your tents, to-day. 
 
 O happy, happy May. 
 Our hearts are glad with bird and bee 
 For what we feel and what we see ; 
 O, would that life and love, we say, 
 Might always keep its happy May, 
 
 Its happy, happy May. 
 
 Eben E. Rexford. 
 
 NATURE. 
 
 TO plant, to build, whatever you intend, 
 To rear the column, or the arch to bend, 
 To swell the terrace, or to sink the grot, 
 In all, let Nature never be forgot * * * 
 He gains all points who pleasingly con- 
 founds, 
 Surprises, varies and conceals the bounds, 
 Consult the genius of the place in all ; 
 That helps the waters or to rise or fall ; 
 Or helps th' ambitious hill the heavens to 
 
 scale, 
 Or scoops in circling theatres the vale ; 
 
 Calls in the country, catches opening glades; 
 
 Joins willing woods, and varies shades from 
 shades ; 
 
 Now breaks, or now directs, th' intending 
 lines ; 
 
 Paints as you plant and as you work de- 
 signs. 
 
 Still follow sense, of every art the soul ; 
 
 Parts answering parts shall slide into a 
 whole, 
 
 Spontaneous beauties all around advance, 
 
 Start e'en from difficulty, strike from chance. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 ROBIN REDBREAST. 
 
 PRETTY Robin Redbreast, 
 Let me see inside your nest ; 
 Oh ! the eggs, one, two, three — 
 Just as sweet as sweet can be. 
 
 I won't touch them ; never fear, 
 
 I won't let my breath come near, 
 
 If I did you'd leave your nest, 
 Pretty Robin Redbreast. 
 
 E. A. Mathers. 
 
 If Jove would give the leafy bowers 
 A queen for all their world of flowers, 
 The rose would be the choice of Jove 
 And blush, the queen of every grove, 
 Gem, the vest of earth adorning, 
 Eye of gardens, light of lawns, 
 
 Nursling of soft summer dawns ; 
 Love's own earliest sigh it breathes, 
 Beauty's brow with lustre wreathes, 
 And to young Zephyr's warm caresses, 
 Spreads abroad its verdant tresses. 
 
 CLODIA- 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 165 
 
 THE SPRING TIME. 
 
 FOR A CLASS RECITATION. 
 
 All : 
 
 HARK ! it is the springtime, 
 How happy should we be, 
 After winter's cold blast 
 
 The merry spring to see. 
 
 First Girl : 
 All the birds are happy, 
 
 They seem to love to sing; 
 They must be tired of winter, 
 
 And glad to see the spring. 
 
 Second Girl: 
 
 And see ! the little flow'rs 
 
 Pop up their tiny heads ; 
 Buttercups and daisies 
 
 Spring from their cosy beds. 
 
 Third Girl : 
 
 Violets are blooming, 
 
 And honeysuckles too ; 
 So the bees are happy, 
 As well as all of you. 
 
 Fourth Girl : 
 Soon, the grand old forest, 
 
 That has so long been bare, 
 Will send forth green branches 
 Out in the open air. 
 
 All : 
 Surely God does love us 
 
 To send us all these things, 
 And we, with our teacher, 
 
 Give thanks to Him in spring. 
 Lily Rutherford. 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 IN the snowing and the blowing, 
 In the cruel sleet, 
 Little flowers begin their growing, 
 
 Far beneath our feet. 
 Softly taps the spring, and cheerly, 
 
 " Darlings are you here ? " 
 Till the answer, " We are nearly, 
 Nearly ready, dear." 
 
 ." Where is winter, with his snowing? 
 
 Tell us spring," they say. 
 
 Then she answers, " He is going, 
 
 Going on his way. 
 Poor old winter does not love you ; 
 
 But his time is past; 
 Soon my birds shall sing, above you, 
 Set you free at last." 
 
 Mrs. M. M. Dodge. 
 
 LITTLE BIRDIE. 
 
 FOR A LITTLE ONE. 
 
 DEAR little birdie, 
 Up in a tree, 
 Sing a sweet song of 
 Spring-time to me. 
 
 Sing of the sunshine, 
 Sing of the showers, 
 
 Sing of the dewdrops, 
 Sing of the flowers. 
 
 Then when winter comes 
 Back with its snow, 
 
 And the cold winds 
 
 Through the trees blow 
 
 If you, dear birdie, will 
 Back to me come, 
 
 I'll see that you never 
 
 Shall want for a crumb. 
 
1 66 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 ROBIN REDBREAST'S SECRET. 
 
 I'M a little Robin Redbreast ; 
 My nest is in a tree ; 
 If you look up in yonder elm, 
 
 My pleasant home you'll see. 
 We made it very soft and nice, — 
 
 My pretty mate and I, — 
 And all the time we worked at it 
 We sang most merrily. 
 
 I have a secret I would like 
 
 The little girls to know ; 
 But I won't tell a single boy — 
 
 The}' rob the poor birds so ! 
 We have four pretty little eggs; 
 
 We watch them with great care , 
 Full twenty nests are in this wood — 
 
 Don't tell the boys they're there ' 
 
 The green leaves shade our lovely home 
 
 From the hot, scorching sun ; 
 So man)' birds live in the tree, 
 
 We do not want for fun. 
 The light breeze gently rocks our nest, 
 
 And hushes us to sleep ; 
 We're up betimes to sing our song, 
 
 And the first daylight greet. 
 
 Joe Thomson robbed my nest last year. 
 
 And year before, — Tom Brown; 
 I'll tell it loud as I can sing 
 
 To every one in town. 
 Swallow and sparrow, lark and thrush, 
 
 Will tell you just the same ; 
 To make us all so sorrowful, 
 
 Is just a wicked shame. 
 
 O, did you hear the concert 
 
 This morning from our tree? 
 We give it every morning 
 
 Just as the clock strikes three. 
 We praise our great Creator, 
 
 Whose hoi)' love we share : 
 Dear children, learn to praise Him, too. 
 
 For all His tender care. 
 
 JOY OF SPRING. 
 
 FOR lo ! no sooner has the cold withdrawn, 
 Than the bright elm is tufted on the lawn ; 
 The merry sap has run up in the bowers, 
 And burst the windows of the buds in flowers ; 
 With song the bosoms of the birds run o'er, 
 The cuckoo calls, the swallow 's at the door, 
 And apple-trees at noon, with bees alive, 
 Burn with the golden chorus of the hive. 
 Now all these sweets, these sounds, this vernal blaze, 
 Is but one joy, expressed a thousand ways : 
 And honey from the flowers, and song from birds, 
 Are from the poet's pen his overflowing words. 
 
 Leigh Hunt. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 1 6 7 
 
 THE BIRDS AND THE CHILDREN. 
 
 A LITTLE brown birdie sat up in a tree 
 And hid his head under his wing. 
 He was just as sad as a birdie could be, 
 And not one sweet song did he sing. 
 
 " Oh, Birdie, come tell us why you are so sad, 
 We, children, want to hear you sing. 
 Have you done something ever and ever so bad, 
 That you hide your head under your wing? 
 
 " Did you snatch something nice from your sister or brother, 
 Like some naughty children, we know? 
 Did you fly far away, when told by your mother 
 That but a short way you could go ? " 
 
 The Birdie from under his wing took his head, 
 And looked at the children below. 
 " I have not been naughty at all," then he said, 
 " I'll tell you why I'm mourning so. 
 
 ''A bright, handsome bluejay just flew past this tree, 
 And laughed at my rusty, brown coat ; 
 And if I'm so homely as he said, you see, 
 There's no use in singing a note. 
 
 " For no one will care for a homely bird's song, 
 And I'd better not sing any more." 
 Then all the children said, "Birdie, you're wrong, 
 We've been told by wise folks o'er and o'er, 
 
 "That fine feathers only don't make a fine bird. 
 Jays cannot sing sweetly like you. 
 They look well who do well, we often have heard, 
 And, Birdie, we're sure it is true. 
 
 " So sing to us now, — sing your very best song ! 
 We'll stay here and listen to you." 
 Then the bird for the children sang sweetly and long, — 
 Sang all the nice songs that he knew. 
 
 E. T. Sullivan. 
 
 THE OAK. 
 
 T 
 
 HE tall oak, towering to the skies, O'ervvhelmed at length upon the plain, 
 
 The fury of the wind defies, It puts forth wings and sweeps the main 
 
 From age to age in virtue strong, The self-same foe undaunted braves, 
 
 Inured to stand and suffer wrong. And fights the wind upon the waves. 
 
 Iames Montgomery. 
 
! 68 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE PINE TREE ACADEMY. 
 
 ALL the birdies went to school, 
 In a pine tree, dark and cool, 
 At its foot a brook was flowing, 
 The teacher was a crow, 
 And what he did not know, 
 You may be sure was not worth knowing. 
 
 Their satchels are hanging up tidy and neat, 
 
 They smooth down their feathers and wipe off their feet, 
 
 While the wind through the tree-tops goes creeping. 
 
 " Speak up loud " says the crow, 
 
 " I can't hear, as you know, 
 While the branches are swaying and creaking." 
 
 They are taught the very best way to fly, 
 To catch the insect that goes buzzing by; 
 How to cock the head when beginning to sing. 
 
 " I've a cold," says the crow, 
 
 " Or else 1 would show, 
 How the nightingale does when she makes the woods ring." 
 
 The books are made of maple leaves, 
 For paper, bark from white-birch trees, 
 And for pencil each uses a stick. 
 
 " When you write," says the crow, 
 
 " Be both careful and slow, 
 Make your letters look graceful, not thick." 
 
 Every birdie builds a nest, 
 
 In the place each thinks the best, 
 
 While the teacher gives good sound advice. 
 
 "All the stocks," says the crow, 
 
 "You must lay in a row 
 Before using one, look at it twice." 
 
 All at once, with a cold blast 
 
 The rain comes falling, thick and fast, 
 
 While the old pine tree groans in the gale. 
 
 " School is closed," says the crow, 
 
 " You must all quickly go, 
 But to-morrow, come back without fail." 
 
 V. E. SCHARFF. 
 

 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. \ 69 
 
 THE SEASONS. 
 
 I THE Spring! the beautiful Spring! 
 
 i With its buds and blossoms and flowers, 
 
 With bluebirds and robins that sing their sweet songs, 
 And the soft, mild, April showers. 
 
 I like best the Summer, the long June days, 
 
 To sit in the deep cool shade, 
 To see the grain ripening, the flowers turn to fruit, 
 
 On each hillside, valley and glade. 
 
 Girls always rave of flowers and bowers, 
 
 And of the beauties of Spring, 
 But give me the Autumn, the glorious fall, 
 
 And all the pleasures it brings ; 
 With corn-stalk fiddles, fruits and nuts, 
 And a hunt in the woods, sere and brown ; 
 
 With pumpkins for jack-lights, 
 
 To frighten on dark nights, 
 And shaking the ripe apples down. 
 
 No Spring, no Summer, no Autumn for me, 
 
 But Winter, the grandest of all, 
 When Jack-frost and Santa Claus travel around, 
 
 And kindly gives each a call. 
 Coasting and skating in the keen, cold air, 
 Is the very best think to banish care. 
 
 Spring and Summer, Winter and Fall, 
 The best of the seasons is, them all. 
 We would tire of Spring, if no Summer came. 
 We would tire of Summer if it came to remain. 
 We would tire of Autumn if it came to stay. 
 We would tire of Winter e'er it passed away. 
 The 5 r ear is complete, God made it so, 
 With bud and blossom, fruit and snow. 
 
 Katie Douglas Walster. 
 
 OUR DUTY HERE. 
 
 WHAT is our duty here? To tend And so to live, that, when the sun 
 
 From good to better, — thence to best; Of our existence sinks in night, 
 
 Grateful to drink life's cup, — then bend Memorials sweet of mercies done 
 
 Unmurmuring to our bed of rest; May shrine our names in memory's light; 
 
 To pluck the flowers that round us blow, And the blest seeds we scattered bloom 
 
 Scattering our fragrance as we go. A hundred-fold in days to come. 
 
 Sir J. Bowring. 
 
170 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 M 
 
 AGE OF TREES. 
 
 AN counts his life by years ; the oak, by centuries. At one hundred years 
 of age the tree is but a sapling ; at five hundred it is mature and strong; 
 at six hundred the gigantic king of the greenwood begins to feel the touch of 
 time : but the decline is as slow as the growth was, and the sturdy old tree rears 
 its proud head and reckoned centuries of old age just as it reckoned centuries 
 of youth. 
 
 It has been said that the patriarchs of the forest laugh at history. Is it not 
 true ? Perhaps, when the balmy zephyrs stir the trees, the leaves whisper 
 strange stories to one another. The oaks and the pines, and their brethren of 
 the wood, have seen so many suns rise and set, so many seasons come and go, 
 and so many generations pass into silence, that we may well wonder what the 
 " story of the trees " would be to us if they had tongues to tell it, or we ears fine 
 enough to understand. 
 
 "The king of white-oak trees," says a letter-writer in this good year 1883, " has 
 been chopped down and taken to the saw-mill. It was five hundred twenty- 
 five years old, and made six twelve-foot logs, the first one being six feet in 
 diameter and weighing seven tons." What a giant that Ohio oak tree must 
 have been, and what changes in this land of ours it must have witnessed ! It 
 looked upon the forest when the red man ruled there alone; it was more than 
 a century old when Columbus landed in the new world; and to that good age 
 it added nearly four centuries before the axe of the woodman laid it low. 
 
 Yet, venerable as this " king of the white-oak trees " was, it was but an in- 
 fant, compared with other monarchs of the western solitudes. One California 
 pine, cut down about 1855, was, according to very good authority, eleven hundred 
 twenty years old ; and many of its neighbors in its native grove are no less 
 ancient than it was. Who shall presume, then, to fix the age of the hoary trees 
 that still rear their stalwart frames in the unexplored depths of the American 
 wilderness ? 
 
 In England there are still in existence many trees that serve to link the far- 
 off past with the living present. Some of them were witnesses of the fierce 
 struggles between Norman and Saxon when William the Conqueror planted 
 his standard — "the three-bannered lions of Normandy old " — upon English 
 soil. Then there is the King's Oak, at Windsor, which, tradition informs us, 
 was a great favorite with William when that bold Norman first inclosed the 
 forest for a royal hunting-ground. 
 
 The Conquerer loved to sit in the shade of the lofty, spreading tree and muse 
 — upon what? Who knows what fancies filled his brain, what feelings stirred 
 his proud spirit, what memories, what regrets, thrilled his heart, as he sat there 
 in the solitude ? Over eight hundred years have rolled away since the Norman 
 usurper fought the sturdy Saxon, and, for conquerer as for conquered, life and 
 its ambitions and its pangs ended long ago ; but the mighty oak, whose green- 
 ness and beauty were a delight to the Conqueror, still stands in Windsor forest. 
 Eight centuries ago its royal master saw it a " goodly tree." How old is it 
 now ? 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 171 
 
 Older even than this are the oaks near Croydon, nine miles south of London, 
 If the botanist may judge by the usual evidences of age, these trees saw the 
 glitter of the Roman spears as the legions of the Empire wound their way 
 through the forest-paths or in the green open spaces in the woodland. Now, 
 the Roman legions left Britain fourteen centuries ago, having been summoned 
 home to Rome because the Empire was in danger, — in fact, was hastening to 
 its fall. Have fourteen centuries spared these oaks at Croydon ? 
 
 There is a famous yew that must not go without notice in our record of 
 ancient trees. This venerable tree stands in its native field, ever green and 
 enduring, as if the years had forgotten it. Yet it was two centuries old when, 
 in the adjacent meadow, King John signed Magna Charta. If we bear in mind 
 that in 121 5 the stout English barons compelled their wicked king to sign the 
 Great Charter, protecting the rights of his subjects, we may conclude that this 
 patriarch yew is at least eight hundred fifty years old. 
 
 The Parliament Oak — -so called because it is said that Edward I, who ruled 
 England from 1272 to 1307, once held a parliament under its branches — is be- 
 lieved to be fifteen hundred years old. If Fine-Ear of the fairy tale could come 
 and translate for us the whispers of these ancient English trees, and tell us ever 
 so little of what the stately monarchs of the wood have seen, what new histories 
 might be written, what old chronicles reversed! 
 
 On the mountains of Lebanon a few of the cedars famous in sacred and in 
 profane history yet remain. One of these relics of the past has been estimated 
 to be three thousand five hundred years old. The patriarchs of the English 
 forests cannot, then, so far as age is considered, claim equal rank with the 
 "cedars of Lebanon." But the baobab, or "monkey-bread," of Senegal must 
 take the first rank among long-lived trees. Even the " goodly trees " of Lebanon 
 must, if ordinary proofs can be trusted, yield the palm to their African rival. 
 
 An eminent French botanist of the eighteenth century, whose discoveries in 
 natural history are of great interest to the world of science, lived some years in 
 Senegal, and had ample opportunity to observe and study the wonderful baobab- 
 He saw several trees of this species growing, and from the most careful calcula- 
 tions he formed his opinion as to the age of some of these African wonders. 
 One baobab, which even in its decay measured one hundred and nine feet in 
 circumference, he believed to be more than five thousand years old. Truly, 
 the patriarchs of the forest laugh at history. 
 
 THE HEMLOCK TREE. 
 
 HEMLOCK tree ! O hemlock tree ! how faithful are thy branches ! 
 Green not alone in summer time 
 But in the winter's frost and rime ! 
 O hemlock tree ! O hemlock tree ! how faithful are thy branches. 
 
 From the German. Longfellow. 
 
172 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 MAY TO APRIL. 
 
 WITHOUT your showers, 
 I breed no flowers, 
 Each field a barren waste appears; 
 If you don't weep, 
 My blossoms sleep, 
 They take such pleasure in your tears. 
 
 For April dead 
 
 My shade I spread, 
 To her I owe my dress so gay; 
 
 Of daughters three 
 
 It falls on me 
 To close our triumphs on one day. 
 
 As your decay 
 
 Made room for May, 
 So I must part with all that's mine, 
 
 My balmy breeze, 
 
 My blooming trees, 
 To torrid suns their sweets resign. 
 
 Thus to repose 
 
 All nature goes; 
 Month after month must find its doom, 
 
 Time on the wing, 
 
 Ma} r ends the spring, 
 And summer frolics o'er her tomb. 
 
 Philip Freneau. 
 
 THE FLOWER. 
 
 ONCE in a golden hour 
 I cast to earth a seed. 
 Up there came a flower, 
 
 The people said a weed. 
 
 Sow'd it far and wide 
 
 By every town and tower, 
 Till all the people cried, 
 
 " Splendid is the flower." 
 
 To and fro they went 
 
 Thro' my garden-bower, 
 
 And muttering discontent, 
 
 Cursed me and mv flower. 
 
 Read my little fable; 
 
 He that runs may read, 
 Most can raise the flowers now, 
 
 For all have got the seed. 
 
 Then it grew so tall 
 
 It wore a crown of light, 
 But thieves from o'er the wall 
 
 Stole the seed by night. 
 
 And some are pretty enough, 
 And some are poor, indeed; 
 
 And now again the people 
 Call it but a weed. 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 BIRD TRADES. 
 
 THE swallow is a mason, 
 And underneath the eaves 
 He builds a nest and plasters it 
 With mud and hay and leaves. 
 
 The woodpecker is hard at work — 
 
 A carpenter is he — 
 And )'ou may hear him hammering 
 
 His nest high up a tree. 
 
 Of all the weavers that I know, 
 The oriole is the best ; 
 
 High on the branches of the tree 
 She hangs her cosy nest. 
 
 Some little birds are miners; 
 
 Some build upon the ground; 
 And busy little tailors too, 
 
 Among the birds are found. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. \ 73- 
 
 THE LEAVES. 
 
 LONG ago, when violets were blooming, 
 And the sunbeams said, " Tis merry May," 
 We came, young leaves, to these bowers 
 
 O ! gaily passed the happy hours away. 
 Singing, dancing, waving, glancing, 
 
 Now whisp'ring to the birds sweet things we know, 
 Now leaning from low-bending branches 
 To kiss the tender grasses just below. 
 
 When the storm cloud came, and the daisies 
 
 Lowly bent their dainty heads for fear, 
 We prayed while we sheltered the wild birds, 
 
 *' O ! angry cloud, pray bring no danger here." 
 Now we listen, never moving, 
 
 E'en the grasses' whispering dies away; 
 Now the thunder crashes above us 
 
 O ! angry cloud, is this your answer, say ? 
 
 Hurrah ! 'tis only pattering raindrops, 
 
 Here and there we nod to greet them from our tree. 
 They are coming now by the millions, 
 
 Ha ! ha ! we'll frolic with them merrily. 
 Dancing, dancing, waving, glancing, 
 
 O ! friendly cloud, we thank you for the rain ; 
 See we're each one covered with jewels, 
 
 Hurrah ! here is the sunshine back again. 
 
 Summer joys, thou art gone ; with the flowers 
 
 That blossomed in our shadows, frail and fair; 
 And we sigh, for our bright hues are fading, 
 
 While autumn's mournful music fills the air. 
 Now we're falling, gently falling, 
 
 Down among the grasses sere and brown, 
 We shall cover the graves of the flowers 
 
 While the paling sun in pity glances down. 
 
 There scattered oft, the earliest of the year 
 
 By hands unseen, are showers of violets found; 
 
 The redbreast loves to build and warble there, 
 And little footsteps lightly print the ground. 
 
 Gray's Elegy. 
 
 This verse was struck out in later editions of the poem by the author, sacri- 
 ficing a beautiful thought to the symmetry of the poem. 
 
i/4 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 CHORUS OF THE FLOWERS. 
 
 FOR A CLASS EXERCISE. 
 
 Chorus: 
 
 WE are the little flowers, 
 Coming with the spring; 
 If you listen closely 
 
 Sometimes you'll hear us sing. 
 
 The Honeysuckle (Red): 
 I am the honeysuckle, 
 
 With my drooping head ; 
 And early in the spring time 
 
 I don my dress of red. 
 I grow in quiet woodlands, 
 
 Beneath some budding tree ; 
 So when you take a ramble 
 
 Just look for me. 
 
 Chorus : 
 We are the little flowers, etc. 
 
 The Forget-me-not (Blue) : 
 When God made all the flowers, 
 
 He gave each one a name, 
 And, when the others all had gone, 
 
 A little blue one came. 
 And said in trembling whisper, 
 
 " My name has been forgot." 
 Then the good Father called her, 
 
 " Forget-me-not." 
 
 Chorus: 
 We are the little flowers, etc, 
 
 Chorus : 
 We are the little flowers, etc. 
 
 The Dandelion (Yellow) : 
 I am the dandelion, 
 
 Yellow as you see, 
 And when the children see me 
 
 They shout for glee. 
 I grow by every wayside, 
 
 And when I've had my day- 
 I spread my wings so silvery 
 
 And fly away. 
 
 The Fern (Green) : 
 A fern the people call me, 
 
 I'm always clothed in green, 
 I live in every forest ; 
 
 You've seen me oft, I ween. 
 Sometimes I leave the shadow 
 
 To grow beside the way. 
 You'll see me as you pass 
 
 Some nice fine day. 
 
 Chorus : 
 We are the little flowers, etc. 
 
 Chorus: 
 We are the little flowers, etc. 
 
 The Nasturtium (Orange): 
 I am the gay nasturtium, 
 
 I bloom in gardens fine, 
 Among the grander flowers 
 
 My slender stalk I twine. 
 Bright orange is my color — 
 
 The eyes of all to please — 
 I have a tube of honey 
 
 For all the bees. 
 
 The Violet (Purple) : 
 I am the little violet ; 
 
 In my purple dress, 
 I hide myself so safely, 
 
 That you'd never guess 
 There was a flower so near you 
 
 Nestling at your feet; 
 And that's why I send you 
 
 My fragrance sweet. 
 
 Chorus : 
 We are the little flowers, etc. 
 
 Lucy Wheelock. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 175 
 
 THE CUNNING OLD CROW. 
 
 ON the limb of an oak sat a cunning old crow, 
 And chatted away with glee, 
 As he saw the old farmer go out to sow, 
 And he cried, " It's all for me ! 
 
 "Look, look, how he scatters his seeds around ; 
 How wonderfully kind to the poor ! 
 If he'd empty it down in a pile on the ground, 
 I could find it much better, I'm sure ! 
 
 " I've learned all the tricks of this wonderful man, 
 Who has such regard for the crow 
 That he lays out his grounds in a regular plan, 
 And covers his corn in a row. 
 
 " He must have a very great fancy for me ; 
 He tries to entrap me enough, 
 But I measure his distance as well as he, 
 And when he comes near, I'm off." 
 
 THE SEASONS. 
 
 WHAT does it mean when the blue bird flies 
 Away o'er the hills, singing sweet and clear? 
 When violets peep through the blades of grass ? 
 These are the signs that Spring time is here. 
 
 What does it mean when the plums are ripe ? 
 
 And butterflies flit and honey bees hum ? 
 When cattle stand under the shady trees ? 
 
 These are the signs that Summer is here. 
 
 What does it mean when the crickets chirp, 
 
 And off to the south-land the wild geese steer? 
 
 When apples are falling and nuts are brown ? 
 These are the signs that Autumn is here. 
 
 What does it mean when the days are short ? 
 
 When leaves are all gone, and the brooks are dumb ? 
 When meadows are white with the drifting snow? 
 
 These are the signs that Winter has come. 
 
 M. E. N. Hatheway. 
 
I 76 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 HYMN TO THE FLOWERS. 
 
 'TVTEATH cloister'd bough each floral bell that swingeth 
 W And tolls its perfume on the passing air, 
 Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth 
 A call to prayer. 
 
 Not to those domes where crumbling arch and column 
 
 Attest the feebleness of mortal hand, 
 But to that fane most catholic and solemn, 
 
 Which God hath planned ; 
 
 To that cathedral boundless as our wonder, 
 
 Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply; 
 
 Its choir, the wind and waves ; its organ, thunder; 
 Its dome, the sky. 
 
 There, as in solitude and shade, I wander 
 
 Through the lone aisles, or stretched upon the sod, 
 
 Awed by the silence, reverently ponder 
 The ways of God. 
 
 Your voiceless lips, Q flowers ! are living preachers ; 
 
 Each cup a pulpit, and each leaf a book ; 
 Supplying to my fancy numerous teachers, 
 
 In loneliest nook. 
 
 Horace Smith. 
 
 THE TREE. 
 
 THE tree's early leaf-buds were bursting their brown. 
 " Shall I take them away? " said the frost sweeping down. 
 " No ; leave them alone 
 Till the blossoms have grown," 
 Prayed the tree, while he trembled from rootlet to crown. 
 
 The tree bore his blossoms, and all the birds sung. 
 ' Shall I take them away ? " said the wind as he swung. 
 '' No ; leave them alone 
 Till the berries have grown," 
 Said the tree, while his leaflets quivering hung. 
 
 The tree bore his fruit in the midsummer glow. 
 Said the child, "May I gather thy berries now?" 
 " Yes; all thou canst see ; 
 Take them ; all are for thee," 
 Said the tree, while he bent down his laden boughs low. 
 
 BjORNSTJERNE BjORNSON. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 177 
 
 NOW IS THE TIME. 
 
 THE bud will soon become a flower, 
 The flower become a seed ; 
 Then seize, O youth ! the present hour. 
 Of that thou hast most need. 
 
 The sun and rain will ripen fast 
 Each seed that thou hast sown- 
 
 And every act and word at last 
 By its own fruit be known. 
 
 Do thy best always — do it now — 
 For, in the present time. 
 
 As in the furrows of a plow 
 
 Fall seeds of good or crime. 
 
 And soon the harvest of thy toil 
 Rejoicing, thou shalt reap ; 
 
 Or o'er thy wild, neglected soil 
 Go forth in shame to weep. 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 THE alder by the river 
 Shakes out her powdery curls; 
 The willow buds in silver 
 For little boys and girls. 
 
 And buttercups are coming, 
 And scarlet columbine ; 
 
 And in the sunn}' meadows 
 The dandelions shine. 
 
 The little birds fly over, 
 
 And, oh, how sweet they sing ! 
 To tell the happy children 
 
 That once again 'tis spring. 
 
 And just as man)' daisies 
 
 As their soft hands can hold. 
 The little ones may gather, 
 
 All fair in white and gold. 
 
 The gay green grass comes creeping 
 So soft beneath their feet ; 
 
 The frogs begin to ripple 
 
 A music clear and sweet. 
 
 Here blows the warm red clover, 
 There peeps the violet blue; 
 
 O happy little children ! 
 
 God made them all for you. 
 Celia Thaxter. 
 
 GOOD-BY, WINTER ! 
 
 THE meadow brooks are full, and busy Yes, hurry up, old Winter, hurry ! 
 Getting Winter off to sea ; Sometime, we hope, you'll come again; 
 
 His trunks of ice, all packed and ready, But here is Spring, in such a flurry, 
 Are standing under every tree. Keeping back her stores of rain. 
 
 His overcoats, well aired and shaken, Well, he's off ! The brooks have started ! 
 
 Are dangling from each dripping bough ; Now the birds can come and sing, 
 
 For he has stayed till overtaken, So welcome to the happy-hearted, 
 
 And Spring is right upon him now ! Laughing, budding, genial Spring. 
 
 ia C. S. Stone. 
 
i 7 8 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 " A SOUL IN GRASS AND FLOWERS." 
 
 AND what is so rare as a day in June ? 
 Then, if ever, come perfect days; 
 Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, 
 And over it softly her warm ear lays : 
 
 Whether we look, or whether we listen, 
 We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; 
 Every clod feels a stir of might. 
 
 And instinct within it that reaches and towers, 
 And grasping blindly above it for light, 
 
 Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers; 
 
 The flush of life may well be seen 
 
 Thrilling back over hills and valleys; 
 The cowslip startles in meadows green, 
 
 The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, 
 And there's never a leaf or a blade too mean 
 
 To be some happy creature's palace ; 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 Now the heart is so full that a drop overfills it, 
 
 We are happy now because God so wills it ; 
 
 No matter how barren the past may have been, 
 
 'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green ; 
 
 We sit in the warm shade and feel right well 
 
 How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell ; 
 
 We may shut our eyes but we cannot help knowing 
 
 That skies are clear and grass is growing ; 
 
 The breeze comes whispering in our ear, 
 
 That dandelions are blossoming near, 
 
 That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing, 
 
 That the river is bluer than the sky, 
 
 That the robin is plastering his house hard by ; 
 
 And if the breeze kept the good news back, 
 
 For other couriers we should not lack. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how ; 
 
 Every thing is happy now, 
 
 Every thing is upward striving ; 
 
 'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true 
 
 As for grass to be green, or skies to be blue, — 
 
 'Tis the natural way of living. 
 ****** 
 
 Lowell's Vision of Sir Launfal. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 179 
 
 THE LODGE. 
 
 IT was a lodge of ample size, 
 But strange of structure and device ; 
 Of such materials as around 
 The workman's hand had readiest found. 
 Lopped off their boughs, their hoar trunks bared, 
 And by the hatchet rudely squared. 
 To give the walls their destined height, 
 The sturdy oak and ash unite ; 
 While moss and clay and leaves combined 
 To fence each crevice from the wind. 
 The lighter pine trees overhead 
 Their slender length for rafters spread, 
 And withered heath and rushes dry 
 Supplied a russet canopy. 
 
 Due westward, fronting to the green, 
 
 A rural portico was seen, 
 
 Aloft on native pillars borne, 
 
 Of mountain fir with bark unshorn, 
 
 Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine 
 
 The ivy and Idaean vine, 
 
 The clematis, the favored flower 
 
 Which boasts the name of virgin bower, 
 
 And every hardy plant could bear 
 
 Lock Katrine's keen and searching air. 
 
 Scott's Lady of the Lake — The Chase. 
 
 A FEW OLD PROVERBS. 
 
 IF the Oak is out before the Ash, 
 1 'Twill be a summer of wet and splash ; 
 But if the Ash is out before the Oak, 
 'Twill be a summer of fire and smoke.' 
 
 u When the Hawthorn bloom too early shows, 
 We shall have still many snows." 
 
 "When the Oak puts on his goslings grey 
 Tis time to sow barley night or day." 
 
 ''When Elm leaves are big as a shilling, 
 Plant kidney beans if you are willing; 
 When Elm leaves are as big as a penny, 
 You must plant beans if you wish to have any." 
 
i8o 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 OLD-FASHIONED FLOWERS. 
 
 WHERE are the sweet old-fashioned posies, 
 Quaint in form and bright in hue, 
 Such as grandma gave her lovers, 
 
 When she walked the garden through ? 
 
 Lavender, with spikes of azure, 
 
 Pointing to the dome on high, 
 Telling thus whence came its color, 
 
 Thanking with its breath the sky. 
 
 Four-o'clock, with heart unfolding, 
 When the loving sun had gone, 
 
 Streak and stain of running crimson, 
 Like the light of early dawn. 
 
 Regal lilies, many petaled, 
 
 Like the curling drifts of snow, 
 
 With their crown of golden antlers 
 Poised on malachite below. 
 
 Morning-glories, tints of purple 
 
 Stretched on tints of creamy white, 
 
 Folding up their satin curtains 
 
 Inward through the dewy night. 
 
 Marigold, with coat of velvet, 
 
 Streaked with gold and yellow lace, 
 
 With its love for summer sunlight 
 Written on its honest face. 
 
 Dainty pink, with feathered petals, 
 
 Tinted, curled and deeply frayed, 
 
 With its calyx heart half broken, 
 
 On its leaves uplifted laid. 
 * * * * * 
 
 Will the modern florist's triumph 
 Look so fair or smell so sweet, 
 
 As those dear old-fashioned posies, 
 
 Blooming round our grandma's feet? 
 Ethel Lynn. 
 
 A MERRY little maiden 
 In the merry month of May, 
 Came tripping o'er the meadow 
 As she sang this merry lay: 
 
 " I'm a merry little maiden, 
 
 My heart is light and gay, 
 And I love the sunny weather 
 In the merry month of May. 
 
 A MAY SONG. 
 
 FOR A LITTLE ONE. 
 
 " I love the little birdies 
 
 That sport along my way, 
 
 And sing their sweet and merry songs 
 In the merry month of May. 
 
 I love my little sisters 
 
 And my brothers every da)-; 
 But I seem to love them better 
 
 In the merry month of Ma)'." 
 
 MERRY SPRING. 
 
 MERRY spring, 
 Will you brin^ 
 
 Back the little birds to sing? 
 
 I am sad; 
 
 Make me glad, 
 Gentle, merry, laughing spring. 
 
 Mother said, 
 " They're not dead 
 
 Only sleeping in their bed; 
 When spring rain 
 Comes again, 
 
 Each one lifts its tiny head.' 
 
 Winter's snow 
 
 Had to go 
 From the hills and vales below; 
 
 Then the showers 
 
 Made the flowers 
 Over all the hillsides grow. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. I 8 1 
 
 SPRING IS COMING. 
 
 LO ! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; 
 The flowers appear upon the earth ; 
 The time of the singing of birds is come, 
 And the voice of the turtle is heard in the land. 
 
 Song of Solomon. 
 Spring is coming ! Spring is coming ! 
 Birds are chirping, insects humming; 
 Flowers are peeping from their sleeping; 
 Streams, escaped from winter's keeping, 
 In delighted freedom rushing, 
 Dance along in music gushing. • 
 
 The pleasant spring is here again; 
 
 Its voice is in the trees ; 
 It smiles from every sunny glen, 
 
 It whispers in the breeze. 
 
 All is beauty, all is mirth, 
 
 All is glory on the earth. 
 
 Shout we then, with nature's voice, 
 
 Welcome, spring ! rejoice, rejoice ! 
 
 
 
 AUTUMN LEAVES. 
 
 THOU who bearest on thy thoughtful face 
 
 The wearied calm that follows after grief, 
 
 See how the autumn guides each loosened leaf 
 To sure repose in its own sheltered place. 
 Ah, not forever whirl they in the race 
 
 Of wild forlornness round the gathered sheaf, 
 
 Or hurrying onward, in a rapture brief, 
 Spin o'er the moorlands into trackless space ! 
 Some hollow captures each ; some sheltering wall 
 
 Arrests the wanderer on its aimless way ; 
 The autumn's pensive beauty needs them all, 
 
 And winter finds them warm, though sere and gray, 
 They nurse young blossoms for the spring's sweet call, 
 
 And shield new leaflets for the burst of May. 
 Century, 1888. Thomas W. Higginson. 
 
 'Tis education forms the common mind ; 
 
 Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined. 
 
 Pope. 
 
182 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 A FLOCK OF BIRDS. 
 
 FOR A CLASS OF LITTLE ONES. 
 ( The pupils who recite should wear appropriate colors.) 
 First Pupil : 
 
 f AM a bluebird ; on branches bare 
 
 1 I love to sway like a blossom fair, 
 
 And sing to people tired of snow • 
 
 The prettiest songs of spring-time I know. 
 
 Second Pupil: 
 
 I am a robin "To wortle, tu whit ! " 
 
 Do I mind the cold weather? no not a bit. 
 
 Gayly I'll carol and loudly shout 
 
 Till I coax the leaves and the blossoms out. 
 
 Third Pupil (yellow bird) : 
 
 My color is like the buttercups; 
 I love to dance where the wild bee sups, 
 I know I've not much of a voice to sing 
 But I carry a sunbeam on either wing. 
 
 Fourth Pupil : 
 
 I'm a jolly old crow, I'd have you know, 
 
 I've sung ever since I was born; 
 And as for farming, I can beat 
 
 The smartest at hoeing the corn ; 
 You don't think much of my music? 
 
 That's as much as some people know. 
 What sound is there in this noisy world 
 
 So sweet as the song of a crow ? 
 
 Fifth Pupil : 
 
 I'm the oriole ; see how gaily I'm dressed, 
 For me the blossoming orchard is best. 
 Oh May is sweet, and I am sweet, 
 And the apple blossoms here at my feet. 
 
 Sixth "Pupil : 
 
 I'm brisk little Robert of Lincoln ! 
 
 My heart is so full and so gay 
 That I sing as fast as ever I can, 
 
 In the meadow-lands, all day. 
 I love the tall lithe grasses 
 
 And the daisies, — the dear little thinsrs 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 They pay the best attention 
 
 To all a birdie sings. 
 Bob-o-link, bob-o-link, I'm glad, bob-o-link! 
 
 The brook says I'm pretty, 
 Now what do you think ? 
 
 Three or more Pupils : 
 
 We're the cat birds and whip-poor-wills, but we'll not tell 
 The secrets we've learned in the shaded dell. 
 
 All (singing or reciting) : 
 
 Come out, boys and girls, and we'll sing you a song; 
 Come early; we sing in the morning 
 When the spirits of sunrise with colors rare 
 Are sky and hilltops adorning. 
 
 Annie Chase. 
 
 EFFECTS OF SPRING. 
 
 THE great sun, 
 Scattering the clouds with a resistless smile, 
 Came forth to do thee homage ; a sweet hymn 
 Was by the low winds chanted in the sky; 
 And when thy feet descended on the earth, 
 Scarce could they move amid the clustering flowers 
 By nature strewn o'er valley, hill and field, 
 To hail her blessed deliverer ! Ye fair trees, 
 How are ye changed, and changing while I gaze ! 
 It seems as if some gleam of verdant light 
 Fell on you from a rainbow ; but it lives 
 Amid your tendrils, brightening every hour 
 Into a deeper radiance. Ye sweet birds, 
 Were you asleep through all the wintry hours, 
 Beneath the waters, or in mossy caves? 
 Yet are ye not, 
 
 Sporting in tree and air, more beautiful 
 Than the young lambs, that, from the valley side, 
 Send a soft bleating like an infant's voice, 
 Half happy, half afraid ! O blessed things ! 
 At sight of this your perfect innocence, 
 The sterner thoughts of manhood melt away 
 Into a mood as mild as woman's dreams. 
 
 Wilson. 
 
 He that goes barefoot must not plant thorns." 
 
1 84 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 ALL THINGS BEAUTIFUL. 
 
 \ LL things bright and beautiful 
 l\ All creatures great and small, 
 All things wise and wonderful, — 
 The Lord God made them all. 
 
 Each little flower that opens, 
 Each little bird that sings. 
 
 He made their glowing colors, 
 He made their tiny wings. 
 
 The purple-headed mountain, 
 The river, running by, 
 
 The morning, and the sunset 
 That lighteth up the sky. 
 
 The tall trees in the green wood, 
 The pleasant summer sun, 
 
 The ripe fruits in the garden, — 
 He made them, every one. 
 
 He gave us eyes to see them, 
 And lips that we might tell 
 
 How great is God Almighty, 
 
 Who hath made all things well. 
 
 C. F. Alexander. 
 
 SING A SONG TO ME. 
 
 FOR FOUR LITTLE PUPILS. 
 
 LITTLE robin in the tree 
 Sing a song to me. 
 Sing about the roses 
 
 On the garden wall, 
 Sing about the birdies 
 On the tree-top tall. 
 
 Little lark up in the sky 
 Sing a song to me. 
 
 Sing about the cloud-land, 
 Far off in the sky; 
 
 When you go there calling, 
 Dd your children cry? 
 
 Tiny tomtit in the hedge, 
 Sing a song to me. 
 
 Sing about the mountain, 
 Sing about the sea, 
 
 Sing about the steamboats — 
 Is there one for me ? 
 
 Sooty blackbird in the field, 
 Sing a song to me. 
 
 Sing about the farmer, 
 
 Planting corn and beans, 
 
 Sing about the harvest — 
 
 I know what that means. 
 
 SPRING SONG. 
 
 HARK, the robins sweetly sing, 
 List, and hear the bluebirds ring, 
 Little May-flowers, "swinging low, 
 Your pale faces to and fro, 
 Whispering softly, " Come and see, 
 We the children's friend will be. 
 Close beside the sheltering grass, 
 Stoop and pluck us as ye pass." 
 
 White and cold the winter's snow, 
 Loud and rough north winds did blow, 
 But beneath our blanket white, 
 Slept we through the wintry night. 
 Till we heard the robins sing, 
 Whispered we, " It is the spring," 
 And we op'ed our sleepy eyes, 
 For the children's glad surprise. 
 
 Jessie Norton. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 1*5 
 
 VOICES OF THE NIGHT. 
 
 PLEASANT it was, when woods were green, 
 And winds were soft and low, 
 To lie amid some sylvan scene, 
 Where, the long drooping boughs between, 
 Shadows dark and sunlight sheen 
 Alternate come and go. 
 
 Or where the denser grove receives 
 
 No sunlight from above, 
 But the dark foliage interweaves 
 In one unbroken roof of leaves, 
 Underneath whose sloping eaves 
 
 The shadows hardly move. 
 
 Beneath some patriarchal tree 
 
 I lay upon the ground : 
 His hoary arms uplifted be, 
 And all the broad leaves over me 
 Clapped their little hands in glee, 
 
 With one continuous sound. 
 
 ^; ■%. %. ;fc %, 
 
 The green trees whispered low and mild 
 
 It was a sound of joy ! 
 They were m)' playmates when a child, 
 And rocked me in their arms so wild ! 
 Still they looked at me and smiled, 
 
 As if I were a boy ; 
 
 And ever whispered, mild and low, 
 " Come, be a child once more ! " 
 And waved their long arms to and fro, 
 And beckoned solemnly and slow ; 
 O, I could not choose but go 
 Into the woodland's hoar, — 
 
 Into the'blithe and breathing air 
 
 Into the solemn wood, 
 Solemn and silent everywhere ! 
 Nature with folded hands seemed there, 
 Kneeling at her evening prayer ! 
 Like one in pra)^er I stood. 
 
 Before me rose an avenue 
 
 Of tail and sombrous pines ; 
 Abroad their fan-like branches grew, 
 And, where the sunshine darted through, 
 Spread a vapor soft and blue, 
 
 In long and sloping lines. 
 
j g5 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 And, falling on my weary brain, 
 
 Like a fast-falling shower, 
 
 The dreams of youth came back again, 
 
 Low lisoings of the summer rain, 
 
 Dropping on the ripened grain 
 
 As once upon the flower. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 MAY. 
 
 HAIL May ! with fair queen and May-pole, 
 Your sweet-scented garlands unroll, 
 Hail spring-time ! dear queen of the seasons, 
 You all of the others control. 
 
 The crocuses dance first to meet you 
 
 From the dazzle of snow's icy sheen : 
 
 Then springs up the dainty arbutus 
 
 From under its dead brown-leaf screen. 
 
 And listen! a sound of sweet music 
 Steals into the school-room to-day, 
 
 'Tis the song of gay robin and blue-bird, 
 In the meadows and woodlands, away. 
 
 But listen again ! happy children 
 
 Are singing of spring, lovely spring ; 
 
 Of all of her many bright blessings, 
 The beauty and joy she may bring. 
 
 Now what can we do for our spring-time 
 That has been so kind to us all ; 
 
 Who gives the earth all of her beauty 
 And music of birds great and small? 
 
 We will be so kind to our playmates — 
 
 There will ne'er be heard cross word or cry 
 
 And to do the will of our teacher, 
 
 And our heavenly Master, we'll try. 
 
 Blessed be God for flowers ! 
 For the bright, gentle, holy thoughts, that breathe 
 From out their odorous beauty, like a wreath 
 
 Of sunshine on life's hours ! 
 
 Mrs. Charles Tinsley. 
 
Copyright, isso, by " Garden and Forest." 
 
 THE PURPLE BEECH. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 l8 7 
 
 THE PURPLE BEECH. 
 
 THE large purple beech at Waltham, of which an illustration appears upon 
 another page, is no doubt one of the finest individuals of this variety planted 
 in the United States. Downing, who was familiar with the Lyman Place, 
 does not, however, mention it in his "Landscape Gardening," written forty or 
 fifty years ago ; and it is probable that the specimen which was growing at that 
 time at Throgg's Neck, in Westchester county, and which Downing declared 
 was the finest in the United States, is now, if still alive, much larger than the 
 Waltham tree, which has lost a good deal from overcrowding and from the 
 garden wall built close to the trunk, which has destroyed the lower branches. 
 There is no tree which demands more room for free development than the 
 beech ; and a beech, standing on a lawn or in a garden, on which there are no 
 lower branches to sweep down to the turf, has lost a large part of the charac- 
 teristic beauty which makes it valuable. The stem of the beech, it is true 
 especially of the American species, has great beauty and a charm peculiar to 
 itself, but it is in the wood or in the forest that this beauty should be seen and 
 admired; and beeches should not be planted in ornamental grounds where 
 light and space cannot be afforded them for full and unchecked growth in every 
 direction. 
 
 The purple beech is a tree of much interest apart from its undoubted value for 
 ornamental planting. It is one of the few examples among trees where an abnor- 
 mal bud variety has retained its character for more than a century, through 
 hundreds of thousands of individuals, all sprung from a single branch (discovered 
 toward the middle of the last century upon a tree in the German forest), either 
 directly from grafts, and now sometimes by seeds ; for the plants raised from the 
 seed of a purple-leaved tree preserve more or less constantly this character to a 
 greater or less degree. The seed from certain trees yield more purple-leaved seed- 
 lings than those from other trees, although the proportion of the purple-leaved 
 seedlings from the same tree vary in different years, and among purple-leaved 
 seedlings there is always a great variety of shades of color. In other words, a 
 race of purple-leaved beeches is gradually becoming "fixed ; " and if it was not in 
 practice more convenient and satisfactory to propagate the best varieties of 
 this tree by grafting, it would doubtless be perfectly possible, at the end of a 
 few generations, to raise from seed, beeches with leaves of almost any shade of 
 purple with as much certainty as different races of the cabbage are obtained 
 from seed. There is no reason to doubt, therefore, that the variety will be as 
 permanent as the type from which it originated. 
 
 " Garden and Forest '," May 8, 1889. 
 
 Like leaves on trees, the race of man is found, 
 Now green in youth, now withering on the ground ; 
 Another race the following spring supplies ; 
 They fall successive, and successive rise. 
 
 Pope's Iliad. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 LITTLE BY LITTLE. 
 
 ii j ITTLE by little," an acorn said, 
 
 \_^j As it slowly sank in its mossy bed, 
 " I am improving every day, 
 Hidden deep in the earth away." 
 
 Little by little, each day it grew ; 
 Little by little, it sipped the dew ; 
 Downward it sent out a thread-like root ; 
 Up in the air sprung a tiny shoot. 
 
 Day after day, and year after year, 
 
 Little by little the leaves appear; 
 
 And the slender branches spread far and wide, 
 
 Till the mighty oak is the forest's pride. 
 
 Far down in the depths of the dark blue sea, 
 An insect train work ceaselessly. 
 Grain by grain, they are building well, 
 Each one alone in its little cell. 
 
 Moment by moment, and day by day, 
 Never stopping to rest or to play, 
 Rocks upon rocks, they are rearing high, 
 Till the top looks out on the sunny sky. 
 
 The gentle wind and the balmy air, 
 
 Little by little, bring verdure there ; 
 
 Till the summer sunbeams gayly smile 
 
 On the buds and the flowers of the coral isle. 
 
 " Little by little," said a thoughtful boy, 
 "Moment by moment, I'll well employ, 
 
 Learning a little every day, 
 
 And not spending all my time in play. 
 
 And still this rule in my mind shall dwell, 
 
 Whatever I do, I will do it well" 
 
 " Little by little, I'll learn to know 
 The treasured wisdom of long ago ; 
 And one of these days, perhaps, we'll see 
 That-the world will be the better for me ; " 
 And do you not think that this simple plan 
 Made him a wise and useful man ? 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 189 
 
 H 
 
 BOAT SONG. 
 
 THE EVER-GREEN PINE. 
 
 AIL to the Chief who in triumph advances ! 
 
 Honored and blessed be the ever green Pine ! 
 Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, 
 Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! 
 Heaven send it happy dew, 
 Earth send it sap anew, 
 Gayly to bourgeon and broadly to grow, 
 While every Highland glen 
 Sends our shout back again, 
 ' Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe !" 
 
 Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, 
 
 Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade , 
 When the whirlwind has stripped every leaf on the mountain, 
 The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade, 
 Moored in the rifted rock, 
 Proof to the tempest's shock, 
 Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; 
 
 Monteith and Breadalbane, then, 
 Echo his praise again, 
 " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! ' ' 
 
 Scott's Lady of the Lake— The Island. 
 
 SEED WORD. 
 
 "TMVAS nothing, — a mere idle word, But yet as on the passing wind 
 
 1 From careless lips, that fell, Is. borne the little seed, 
 
 Forgot, perhaps, as soon as said, Which blooms, unheeded, as a flower 
 And purposeless as well. Or as a noisome weed, — 
 
 So, often will a single word 
 
 Unknown, its end fulfill, 
 And bear, in seed, the flower and fruit 
 
 Of actions good or ill. 
 
 THE ROSE. 
 
 ROSE! thou art the sweetest flower Are amorous of thy scented sigh; 
 
 That ever drank the amber shower ; Cupid, too, in Paphian shades, 
 
 Rose! thou art the fondest child His hair with rosy fillet braids ; 
 
 Of dimpled Spring, the wood-nymph wild! Then bring me showers of roses, bring, 
 Even the gods who walk the sky And shed them round me while I sing. 
 
 Moore's Odes of Anacreon. 
 
 *Black Roderick, the descendant of Alpine 
 
190 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 BRING FLOWERS. 
 
 RING flowers to strew in the conqueror's path ! 
 He hath shaken thrones with his stormy wrath ; 
 He comes with spoils of nations back, 
 The vines lie crushed in his chariot's track, 
 The turf looks red where he won the day. 
 Bring flowers to die in the conqueror's way ! 
 
 Bring flowers to the captive's lonely cell ! 
 
 They have tales of the joyous woods to tell, — 
 
 Of the free blue streams, and the glowing sky, 
 
 And the bright world shut from his languid eye ; 
 
 They will bear him a thought of the sunny hours, 
 
 And the dream of his youth. Bring him flowers, wild flowers 
 
 Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear ! 
 
 They were born to blush in her shining hair. 
 
 She is leaving the home of her childhood's mirth, 
 
 She hath bid farewell to her father's hearth, 
 
 Her place is now by another's side. 
 
 Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride ! 
 
 Bring flowers, pale flowers, o'er the bier to shed, 
 
 A crown for the brow of the early dead ! 
 
 For this through its leaves hath the white rose burst, 
 
 For this in the woods was the violet nursed ! 
 
 Though they smile in vain for what once was ours, 
 
 They are love's last gift. Bring ye flowers, pale flowers ! 
 
 Bring flowers to the shrine where we kneel in prayer, — 
 
 They are nature's offering, their place is there ! 
 
 They speak of hope to the fainting heart, 
 
 With a voice of promise they come and part, 
 
 They sleep in dust through the wintry hours, 
 
 They break forth in glory. Bring flowers, bright flowers ! 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 Imparting to waste places more than their pristine beauty and associating 
 the names of departed loved ones with our work is a poetic and sublime con- 
 ception. It symbolizes our faith in a resurrection to a higher and better life, 
 when the hard struggles of this sin-cursed world are passed. 
 
 Samuel F. Cary. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 I 9 I 
 
 Written for the ''Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 ARBOR DAY. 
 
 [Air— -''My Maryland."] 
 
 AGAIN we come this day to greet, 
 Arbor Day ! sweet Arbor Day ! 
 With willing hands and nimble feet, 
 
 Arbor Day ! sweet Arbor Day ! 
 No sweeter theme our time can claim, 
 No grander deed points us to fame, 
 No toy more proud than this we name 
 Arbor Day ! dear Arbor Day ! 
 
 Bring forth the trees ! Prepare the earth 
 
 For Arbor Day, sweet Arbor Da} r . 
 
 With song we celebrate the birth 
 
 Of Arbor Day, sweet Arbor Day ! 
 
 And when our joyful task is done, 
 
 And we our meed of praise have won, 
 
 The glorious work's but just begun 
 
 For Arbor Day, dear Arbor Day ! 
 Alton, N. Y. Seymour S. Short. 
 
 TO WORDSWORTH. 
 
 POET of nature, thou didst teach to see 
 In earth and sky, meadow and river's glide, 
 On mountain peaks, in ocean's ceaseless tide, 
 Order and truth, a peace and unity, 
 In seeming discord and complexity, 
 
 Of nature's handiwork; did teach to know, 
 That in all life, even in the flowers that blow, 
 There may be seen the shadows of infinity. 
 
 Priest of the beautiful ! thou in thy life 
 
 Of noble thought, of simple wants and cares, 
 
 Of fightings stern in which our days are rife, 
 Didst weave a beauty that the hero wears, 
 
 As on he leads to triumph in the strife 
 
 Or bravely in life's common way he fares. 
 Chatauquan, 1889. O. F. EMERSON. 
 
 Heart's Ease ! One could look for half a day 
 
 Upon this flower, and shape in fancy out 
 
 Full twentjr different tales of love and sorrow, 
 
 That gave this gentle name. Mary Howitt. 
 
192 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE MAY QUEEN. 
 
 YOU must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear ; 
 To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time, o' all the glad New-year ; 
 Of all the glad New-year, mother, the maddest, merriest day ; 
 For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May, 
 
 There's many a black, black eye, they say, but none so bright as mine ; 
 
 There's Margaret and Mary, there's Kate and Caroline ; 
 
 But none so fair as little Alice in all the land they say, 
 
 So I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 
 
 I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall never wake, 
 
 If you do not call me loud when the day begins to break ; 
 
 And I must gather knots of flowers, and buds and garlands gay, 
 
 For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 
 
 As I came up the valley whom think ye should I see, 
 
 But Robin leaning on the bridge beneath the hazel-tree ? 
 
 He thought of that sharp look, mother, I gave him yesterday, — 
 
 But I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 
 
 He thought I was a ghost, mother, for I was all in white, 
 And I ran by him without speaking, like a flash of light. 
 They call me cruel-hearted, but I care not what they say, 
 For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 
 
 They say he's dying all for love, but that can never be ; 
 
 They say his heart is breaking, mother — what is that to me? 
 
 There's many a bolder lad 'ill woo me any summer day, 
 
 And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 
 
 Little Effie shall go with me to-morrow to the green, 
 
 And you'll be there too, mother, to see me made the Queen ; 
 
 For the shepherd lads on every side 'ill come from faraway, 
 
 And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 
 
 The honeysuckle round the porch has wov'n its wavy bowers, 
 And by the meadow trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers; 
 And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire in swamps and hollows gray, 
 And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be C)ueen o' the May. 
 
 The night-winds come and go, mother, upon the meadow-grass, 
 And the happy stars above them seem to brighten as they pass ; 
 There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the livelong day, 
 And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 J 9: 
 
 All the valley, mother, 'ill be fresh and green and still, 
 
 And the cowslip and the crowfoot are over all the hill, 
 
 And the rivulet in the flowery dale 'ill merrily glance and play, 
 
 For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 
 
 So you must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear, 
 To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of all the glad New-year; 
 To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest, merriest day, 
 For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 WHAT IS THE SONG THE SWALLOWS SING? 
 
 WHAT is the son§ 
 When skies ar 
 
 \g the swallows sing, 
 ire blue, and May is here, 
 And when they haste on joyful wing, 
 
 To tell that summer-time is near? 
 The primrose comes to greet the Spring ; 
 
 The roses bloom on every hand, 
 What message do the swallows bring 
 
 Returning from a fairer land ? 
 Among the trees and in the air, 
 
 They come to us a merry throng ; 
 And as we listen to them there, 
 
 What is their song? What is their song ? 
 Farewell, farewell unto that distant clime 
 
 Where once we dwelt and memory is sweet, 
 And welcome, welcome to the fair spring-time 
 
 That waits us in the land that now we greet. 
 
 What is the song the swallows sing, 
 
 When Autumn skies are dark and drear? 
 A tender requiem they bring, 
 
 To all that made the Summer dear, 
 Their spring-time joy is turned to grief; 
 
 And each must sing before it goes, 
 A message to the falling leaf, 
 
 A message to the fading rose ! 
 Ah, faithless rovers ! in the May 
 
 You sang of love so clear and strong ; 
 And now, when skies are dull and gray, 
 
 What is your song? What is your song? 
 Farewell, farewell unto this pleasant clime, 
 
 Where once we dwelt and memory is sweet, 
 And welcome, welcome to the fair spring-time 
 
 That waits us in the land that now we greet. 
 13 Harry B. Smith. 
 
i 9 4 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE LOVE OF NATURE. 
 
 The sounding cataract 
 Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, 
 The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, 
 Their colors and their forms, were then to me 
 An appetite, — a feeling and a love 
 That had no need of a remoter charm 
 By thought supplied, or any interest 
 Unborrowed from the eye. 
 
 That time is past, 
 And all its aching joys are now no more, 
 And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this 
 Faint I, nor mourn, nor murmur ; other gifts 
 Have followed, for such loss, I would believe, 
 Abundant recompense. For I have learned 
 To look on nature, not as in the hour 
 Of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes 
 The still sad music of humanity, 
 Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power 
 To chasten and subdue. 
 
 And I have felt 
 A presence that disturbs me with the joy 
 Of elevated thoughts ; a sense sublime 
 Of something far more deeply interfused, 
 Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, 
 And the round ocean, and the living air, 
 And the blue sky, and in the mind of man ; 
 A motion and a spirit that impels 
 All thinking things, all objects of all thought, 
 And rolls through all things. 
 
 Therefore am I still 
 A lover of the meadows and the woods 
 And mountains, and of all that we behold 
 From this green earth ; of all the might}- world 
 Of eye and ear, both what they half create 
 And what perceive ; well pleased to recognize 
 In nature, and the language of the sense, 
 The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse, 
 The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul 
 Of all my moral being. 
 
 Wordsworth, 
 
 I love not man the less but nature more. 
 
 Byron's Apostrophe*. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 J 95 
 
 THE GINGERBREAD TREE. 
 
 OH, do j r ou know, and do you know, 
 The tree where risen doughnuts grow, 
 And in a shower come tumbling down, 
 All sugary and crisp and brown ? 
 
 And did you ever chance to see 
 The plum-cakes on this charming tree ? 
 And reaching o'er the fence, perhaps 
 A stem just strung with ginger-snaps? 
 
 The house stands close beside the street ; 
 
 Around its roof the branches meet. 
 
 If you look up, about your head 
 
 Fall down great squares of gingerbread. 
 
 Once when I went inside the door, 
 Through the wide window to the floor, 
 A bough came bending all apart, 
 And tossed me in a jelly tart. 
 
 Whoever lives there, I must say, 
 Though he is lame, and old, and gray, 
 What a rare gardener he must be, 
 And, oh, how happy with that tree ! 
 
 My mother says that very few 
 Gingerbread-trees she ever knew, 
 And none shook down, it seems to her, 
 Like this, an apple turnover. 
 
 Some days it drops upon the ground, 
 Soft, soft, a frosted heart, and round, 
 And sometimes, when the branches stir, 
 Such cookies rain as never were. 
 
 And you can guess — oh, you can guess 
 That if 'tis too far a recess, 
 Yet all the children, as a rule, 
 Go slow there, coming home from school. 
 Harper's Voting People, 1889. Harriet Prescott Spofford. 
 
 Ivy clings to wood or stone. 
 And hides the ruin that it feeds upon. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
96 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE OAK. 
 
 WHAT gnarled stretch, what depth of shade, is his ! 
 There needs no crown to mark the forest's king ; 
 How in his leaves outshines full summer's bliss! 
 
 Sun, storm, rain, dew, to him their tribute bring, 
 Which he with such benignant royalty 
 
 Accepts, as overpayeth what is lent; 
 
 All nature seems his vassal proud to be, 
 
 And cunning only for his ornament. 
 
 How towers he, too, amid the billowed snows, 
 
 An unquelled exile from the summer's throne, 
 Whose plain, uncinctured front more kingly shows, 
 
 Now that the obscuring courtier leaves are flown. 
 His boughs make music of the winter air, 
 
 Jeweled with sleet, like some cathedral front 
 Where clinging snow flakes with quaint art repair 
 
 The dints and furrows of time's envious brunt. 
 
 How doth his patient strength the rude March wind 
 
 Persuade to seem glad breaths of summer breeze, 
 And win the soil that fain would be unkind, 
 
 To swell his revenues with proud increase ! 
 He is the gem; and all the landscape wide 
 
 (So doth his grandeur isolate the sense) 
 Seems but the setting, worthless all beside, 
 
 An empty socket, were he fallen thence. 
 
 So, from oft converse with life's wintry gales, 
 
 Should man learn how to clasp with tougher roots 
 The inspiring earth ; how otherwise avails 
 
 The leaf-creating sap that sunward shoots ? 
 So every year that falls with noiseless flake 
 
 Should fill old scars upon the stormward side, 
 And make hoar age revered for age's sake, 
 
 Not for traditions of youth's leafy pride. 
 
 So, from the pinched soil of a churlish fate, 
 
 True hearts compel the sap of sturdier growth, 
 So between earth and heaven stand simply great 
 
 That these shall seem but their attendants both; 
 For natures's forces with obedient zeal 
 
 Wait on the rooted faith and oaken will ; 
 As quickly the pretender's cheat they feel, 
 
 And turn mad Pucks to flout and mock him still. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 197 
 
 Lord ! all Thy works are lessons; each contains 
 
 Some emblem of man's all containing soul; 
 Shall he make fruitless all Thy glorious pains, 
 
 Delving within thy grace and eyeless mole ? 
 Make me the least of Thy Dodona-grove, 
 
 Cause me some message of Thy truth to bring, 
 Speak but a word through me, nor let Thy love 
 
 Among my boughs disdain to perch and sing. 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 NATURE'S TEMPLE. 
 
 TALK not of temples — there is one, built without hands, to mankind given 
 Its lamps are the meridian sun, and all the stars of heaven. 
 Its walls are the cerulean sky, its floor the earth, serene and fair ; 
 The dome is vast immensity — all Nature worships there ! 
 
 The Alps arrayed in stainless snow, the Andean ranges yet untrod, 
 At sunrise and at sunset glow, like altar-fires to God ! 
 A thousand fierce volcanoes blaze, as if with hallowed victims rare; 
 And thunder lifts its voice in praise — all Nature worships there ! 
 
 The cedar and the mountain pine, the willow on the fountain's brim, 
 
 The tulip and the eglantine, in reverence bend to Him ; 
 
 The song-birds pour their sweetest lays, from tower, and tree and middle air; 
 
 The rushing river murmurs praise — all Nature worships there ! 
 
 David Vedder. 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 COME, gentle spring ! ethereal mildness, come, 
 And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud, 
 While music wakes around, veiled in a shower 
 Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend. 
 And see where surly winter passes off, 
 Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts ; 
 His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill, 
 The shattered forest, and the ravaged vale ; 
 While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch, 
 Dissolving snows in living torrents lost, 
 The mountains lift their green heads to the sky. 
 
 From Thomson's " Seasons. 
 
 And there is Pansics — that's for thoughts. Hamlet. 
 
198 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE CHILDREN. 
 
 AH ! what would this world be to us 
 If the children were no more ? 
 We should dread the desert behind us 
 Worse than the dark before. 
 
 What the leaves are to the forest, 
 With light and air for food, 
 
 Ere their sweet and tender juices 
 
 Have been hardened into wood — 
 
 That to the world are children; 
 
 Through them it feels the glow 
 Of a brighter and sunnier climate 
 
 Than reaches the trunks below. 
 
 Come to me, O ye children ! 
 
 And whisper in my ear 
 What the birds and the winds are singing 
 
 In your sunny atmosphere. 
 
 Ye are better than all the ballads 
 That ever were sung or said, 
 
 For ye are the living poems, 
 And all the rest are dead. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 HOW THE LEAVES CAME DOWN. 
 
 u 
 
 LL tell you how the leaves came 
 X down," 
 
 The great tree to his children said: 
 " You're getting sleepy, Yellow and Brown, 
 Yes, very sleepy, little Red." 
 
 Perhaps the great tree will forget, 
 And let us stay until the spring, 
 
 If we all beg, and coax and fret." 
 
 But the great tree did no such thing; 
 He smiled to hear their whispering. 
 
 Ah ! " begged each silly pouting leaf 
 " Let us a little longer stay; 
 Dear Father Tree, behold our grief ; 
 'Tis such a very pleasant day, 
 We do not want to go away." 
 
 So, just for one more merry day 
 To the great tree the leaflets clung, 
 
 Frolicked and danced, and had their 
 way, 
 Upon the autumn breezes swung. 
 Whispering all their sports among. 
 
 Come, children all, to bed," he cried; — 
 And ere the leaves could urge their 
 prayer, 
 
 He shook his head, and far and wide, 
 Fluttering and rustling everywhere, 
 Down sped the leaflets through the air. 
 
 I saw them; on the ground the)' lay, 
 Golden and red, a huddled swarm, 
 
 Waiting till one from far away, 
 
 White bedclothes heaped upon her arm 
 Should come to wrap them safe and warm. 
 
 The great bare tree looked down and smiled. 
 
 "Good-night, dear little leaves," he said. 
 And from below each sleepy child 
 
 Replied, " Good-night," and murmured, 
 
 " It is so nice to go to bed ! " 
 
 Susan Coolidge. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL, 199 
 
 THE IVY. 
 
 PUSHING the clods of earth aside, 
 Leaving the dark where foul things hide, 
 Spreading its leaves to the summer sun, 
 Bondage ended, freedom won ; 
 
 So, my soul, like the ivy be, 
 
 Rise, for the sunshine calls for thee ! 
 
 Climbing up as the seasons go, 
 
 Looking down upon things below, 
 
 Twining itself in the branches high, 
 
 As if the frail thing owned the sky ; 
 So my soul, like the ivy be, 
 Heaven, not earth, is the place for thee. 
 
 Wrapping itself round the giant oak, 
 Hiding itself from the tempest's stroke; 
 Strong and brave is the fragile thing, 
 For it knows one secret, how to cling. 
 
 So, my soul, there's strength for thee, 
 
 Hear the Mighty One : " Lean on me." 
 
 Green are its leaves when the world is white, 
 
 For the ivy sings through the frosty night ; 
 
 Keeping the hearts of oak awake, 
 
 Till the flowers shall bloom and the spring shall break ; 
 
 So, my soul, through the winter's rain, 
 
 Sing the sunshine back again. 
 
 Opening its green and fluttering breast. 
 Giving the timid birds a nest ; 
 Coming out from the winter wild, 
 To make a wreath for the Holy Child ; 
 
 So, let my life like the ivy be, 
 
 A help to man and a wreath for Thee ! 
 Good Words. Henry BURTON. 
 
 ' Take whatever God sends, 
 
 As the blossoming pansies do : 
 He clothes them with royal grace ; 
 
 Shall he not take thought for you ? 
 Trust — for the trustful heart 
 
 Knoweth the tenderest leading, 
 Knoweth how certainly God 
 
 Our need and our craving is heeding." 
 
200 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE BEECH TREE'S PETITION. 
 
 OH leave this barren spot to me, 
 Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree ! 
 Though shrub or flow'ret never grow, 
 Wly wan unwanning shade below, 
 Nor fruits of autumn blossom born 
 My green and glossy leaves adorn, 
 Nor murmuring tribes from me derive 
 The ambrosial treasures of the hive, 
 Yet leave this little spot to me, 
 Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree. 
 
 Thrice twenty summers have I stood 
 In bloomless, fruitless solitude; 
 Since childhood in my rustling bower 
 First spent its sweet and sportive hour, 
 Since youthful lovers in my shade 
 Their vows of truth and rapture paid, 
 And on my trunk's surviving frame 
 Carv'd many a long forgotten name. 
 Oh, by the vows of gentle sound 
 First breathed upon this sacred ground, 
 By all that Love hath whispered here, 
 Or Beauty heard with ravish 'd ear, 
 As Love's own altar honor me, 
 Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree. 
 
 Thomas Campbell. 
 
 SONG OF THE ROSE. 
 
 IF Zeus chose us a King of the flowers in his mirth, 
 He would call to the rose, and would royally crown it; 
 For the rose, ho, the rose ! is the grace of the earth, 
 Is the light of the plants that are growing upon it ! 
 For the rose, ho, the rose ! is the eye of the flowers, 
 Is the blush of the meadows that feel themselves fair, — 
 Is the lightning of beauty, that strikes through the bowers 
 On pale lovers that sit in the glow unaware. 
 Ho, the rose breathes of love ! ho, the rose lifts the cup 
 To the red eyes of Cypris invoked for a guest ! 
 Ho, the rose having curled its sweet leaves for the world 
 Takes delight in the motion its petals keep up, 
 As they laugh to the wind as it laughs from the west. 
 
 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 2Q1 
 
 THE PETRIFIED FERN. 
 
 IN a valley, centuries ago, 
 Grew a little fern leaf green and slender; 
 Veining delicate and fibres tender; 
 Waving, when the wind crept down so low. 
 Rushes tall and moss and grass grew round it, 
 Playful sunbeams darted in and found it, 
 Drops of dew stole in by night and crowned it, 
 But no foot of man e'er trod that way. 
 Earth was young and keeping holiday. 
 
 Monster fishes swam the silent main, 
 Stately forests waved their giant branches, 
 Mountains hurled their snowy avalanches, 
 Mammoth creatures stalked across the plain; 
 Nature reveled in grand mysteries, 
 But the little fern was not of these, 
 Did not number with the hills and trees ; 
 Only grew and waved its wild sweet way ; 
 No one came to note it day by day. 
 
 Earth one time put on a frolic mood, 
 
 Heaved the rocks and changed the mighty motion 
 
 Of the deep, strong currents of the ocean, 
 
 Moved the plain and shook the haughty wood, 
 
 Crushed the little fern in soft, moist clay, 
 
 Covered it and hid it safe away. 
 
 Oh the long, long centuries since that day ! 
 
 Oh the changes, oh life's bitter cost, 
 
 Since that useless little fern was lost ! 
 
 Useless? Lost? There came a thoughtful man 
 
 Searching nature's secrets far and deep; 
 
 From a fissure in a rocky steep 
 
 He withdrew a stone o'er which there ran 
 
 Fairy pencilings, a quaint design, 
 
 Veinings, leafage, fibres clear and fine, 
 
 And the fern's life lay in every line. 
 
 So, I think, God hides some souls away 
 
 Sweetly to surprise us the last day. 
 
 Mary L. Bolles Branch. 
 
 Under the shad}- roof 
 
 Of branching elm star-proof. 
 
 Milton's Arcades. 
 
2Q2 ' ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 SPRING SONG. 
 
 NOW the lovely spring has come, Hear the merry babbling brook, 
 
 See the fragrant flowers bloom, Rippling through each shady nook! 
 
 Birds are here with their song, Coming here, going there, 
 
 Cheering us along. Making all so fair. 
 
 Making all our faces bright. See the little finny tribe, 
 
 Till our hearts beat with delight, Rushing everywhere to hide, 
 
 Happv spring, merry spring, In and out, round about, 
 
 We thy praises sing. In their merry rout. 
 
 See the little lambs at play, 
 
 Skipping through the livelong day, 
 
 Happy they on their way 
 
 To the meadows gay. 
 
 Through the meads and through the vales 
 
 O'er the hills and pleasant dales, 
 
 Here they go, to and fro, 
 
 Not a care they know. 
 
 Kate Hawthorn. 
 
 c 
 
 MY HOME IN THE WILDWOOD. 
 
 OME to my home in the wild wood, Sweet 'tis to stray in the wildwood; 
 
 Come where the heart is so free, When the day's cares are all o'er; 
 
 Bidding adieu to your sorrow, Bright flowers are strown in our pathway, 
 
 Here let your dwelling place be. Fresh leaves adorn the gay floor. 
 
 Here you may find in the wildwood, 
 
 Freedom from sorrow and care, 
 Casting aside all your burdens, 
 
 Here find sweet solace in prayer. 
 
 N 
 
 HAIL, ARBOR DAY. 
 
 OW fair Arbor Day is here, Hail, all hail, fair Arbor Day; 
 
 Filled with all its happy hours; Prophecy of coming beauty 
 
 Loyal children, far and near, When the years have passed away 
 
 Plant their trees and scatter flowers. With their weight of care and duty, 
 
 Knowing well their Father's e) r e We will love thee still the same, 
 
 Rests upon them from the sky, And fond memory at thy name, , 
 
 Viewing all their deeds with love, Will recall the gladsome days, 
 
 As through blossoming lands they rove. When we roamed in woodland ways. 
 
 Soon the trees will grow, Happy, thoughtless youth, 
 
 And gently throw With love and truth, 
 
 A shade through sunny hours, Blent in a rhyme of hours, 
 
 Feathered songsters bring the music, And the Arbor Day of friendship, 
 
 And our Father send the showers. Crowned with innocence and flowers. 
 
 Kingston, A T . Y. — School No. 3 Exercises. 18S9. Lizzie D. Roosa. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 20' 
 
 GROWTH. 
 
 GROW as the trees grow, 
 Your head lifted straight to the sky, 
 Your roots holding fast where they lie, 
 In the richness below ; 
 Your branches outspread 
 To the sun pouring down, and the dew, 
 With the glorious infinite blue 
 
 Stretching over your head. 
 
 Receiving the storms 
 That may writhe you, and bend, but not break, 
 While your roots the more sturdily take 
 
 A strength in their forms. 
 
 God means us, the growth of His trees, 
 Alike thro' the shadow and shine, 
 Receiving as freely the life-giving wine 
 
 Of the air and the breeze. 
 
 Not sunshine alone, 
 The soft summer dew and the breeze 
 Hath fashioned these. wonderful trees. 
 
 The tempest hath moaned : 
 They have tossed their strong arms in despair, 
 At the blast of the terrible there, 
 
 In the thunder's loud tone. 
 
 But under it all 
 Were the roots clasping closer the sod, 
 The top still aspiring to God 
 
 Who prevented their fall. 
 
 Come out from the gloom, 
 And open your heart to the light 
 That is flooding God's world with delight, 
 
 And unfolding its bloom. 
 
 His kingdom of grace 
 Is symboled in all that we see, 
 In budding and leafing of tree, 
 
 And fruit in its place. 
 Chatauquan, July, 1S84. Emily J. Bugbee. 
 
204 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 FOR ARBOR DAY. 
 
 ALL hail this day —glad Arbor Day ! 
 A day for joyous labor; 
 A work that blesses every heart 
 
 Because for friend and neighbor; 
 When boy, girl, man and woman, too, 
 
 The loss of trees deploring, 
 Come forth with heart and hand to learn 
 Dame Nature's art — restoring ! 
 
 Man has cut down the stalwart trees, 
 
 Nor thought of e'er replacing ; 
 His reckless waste should on his cheek 
 
 Be fiery blushes tracing. 
 To rob the mother of her jewels 
 
 Is but the grossest sinning, 
 When she so ready is to take 
 
 New nurslings from beginning. 
 
 O see how well does Nature pay — 
 
 Her grand Controller praising, 
 For every tree that she destroys 
 
 She thousands more is raising ; 
 She sends the seeds, with hand so free, 
 
 To earth's kind bosom nestling. 
 And gives a feast to growing germs 
 
 That lightens all their wrestling. 
 
 O )'e who love these native gems, 
 
 So charming in their living; 
 See how the needs of human life, 
 
 Destructive force is giving! 
 It fells them from their native homes, 
 
 Where purest beauty, growing. 
 Impels the heart and mind of man 
 
 To stand in meekness bowing. 
 
 Look atthe stately forest kings 
 
 That stand morn, noon and even, 
 Their tops long reaching out to kiss 
 
 The light so richly given i 
 There, 'neath that forest's foliage shade, 
 
 The spirits joys enliven, 
 And feel the secrets of all life — 
 
 The life of God and heaven. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 205 
 
 Then plant the flower, the shrub, the vine, 
 , For man, bird, beast and beauty ; 
 
 The basswood, oak, the beech and pine — 
 
 It is for all a duty — 
 The hemlock, ash, the spruce and elm ; 
 
 And fruits, so very many — 
 Ay, plant of all that meet man's needs, 
 
 And that is all, if any. 
 
 They are so lovely, fresh and grand, 
 
 So richly ornamental; 
 By roadside, meadow, field, in wood, 
 
 They've beauty transcendental ; 
 Give just one day in all the year, 
 
 Twill pay for all your ardors, 
 And Arbor Day will soon display 
 
 A land of charming arbors. 
 Wateriown, X. Y. GEORGE Adams 
 
 ARBOR DAY ODE. 
 
 RAISE a Song of gladness on this festal day, 
 Which shall be a forest symphony, 
 Chiming with the music of melodious May, 
 Sung in honor of each growing tree. 
 
 Chorus. — Happy, happy with the joys of spring, 
 Gayly, gayly our delights we sing. 
 Children blest of heaven, who so glad as we, 
 Pealing forth the anthem of the free ? 
 
 Honor to the oak tree, emblem of the power, 
 Making this fair nation proud and strong, 
 
 Great with all the glories of heaven's richest dower. 
 Worthy all the praise of festal song. — Cho. 
 
 Honor to the pine tree, with its fadeless sheen, 
 
 Type of beauty in our native land, 
 Which the sister nations from afar have seen, 
 
 Through the years a pattern long to stand. — Cho. 
 
 Trees are forms of beauty that our minds upraise 
 
 To the boundiess Giver of all good. 
 Loving God of Nature, hear our song of praise 
 
 For the beauties of the field and wood. — Cho. 
 
 Maker of each glory of our native land, 
 
 May each form of beauty which we see, 
 In the pleasant meadow and the forest grand, 
 
 Lift our souls to higher thoughts of Thee. — Cho. 
 Kingston, N. Y., Academy Exercises, 1889. Parr Harlow. 
 
2o6 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 "pi; 
 
 Written for the " Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 SONG TO THE MAPLE TREE.* 
 
 tS the tree of the State, and most wisely selected, 
 To emblem the progress her children have made; 
 Henceforth by our care shall its right be protected 
 To gather the weary to bask in its shade. 
 Chorus — Maple tree ! Maple tree ! none can compare with thee ! 
 Sipping earth's nectar, to sweetness impart. 
 Sweeter thy loving care, sweeter thy shadows are ; 
 Sweeter thy songsters that gladden the heart. 
 
 The tribes of the air for their nesting most choose it,* 
 Their billing and cooing heard most in its groves; 
 
 Why then should our youthful affections refuse it ? 
 This fitting abode for the gods and their loves ? 
 Chorus — Maple tree, etc. 
 
 The ever-green foliage may tower from our mountains, 
 
 'Neath the pine and the hemlock the wild tribes abide ; 
 But majestic o'er landscape, by sweet sparkling fountains, 
 The silver-leaved maple of man is the pride. 
 Chorus — Maple tree, etc. 
 
 Soft fragrance and balm, in the dew of the morning, 
 Exhale on the breeze with the songster's sweet lay ; 
 
 Its green arching plumes all our pathway adorning, 
 
 A shield and defense from the sun's scorching ray. 
 Chorus — Maple tree, etc. 
 
 Then plant ye the maple so young and so slender ; 
 
 And grow with its growth as the years shall roll by ; 
 While tow'rd manhood, ye vie with the tree in its splendor, 
 Each measure made full from great nature's supply. 
 Chorus — Maple tree, etc. 
 Watertown, N. Y. E, A. HOLBROOK. 
 
 THE BIRDS CHOOSE THE MAPLE. 
 
 There is another fact which strikes one in looking at these nests about the 
 village; the birds of different feathers show a very marked preference for 
 building in maples. It is true these trees are more numerous than others about 
 our streets, but there are also elms, locusts, and sumachs mingled with them, 
 enough, at least, to decide the question very clearly. This afternoon we counted 
 the nests in the different trees as we passed them, with a view to this particu- 
 lar point, and the result was as follows : The first we came to were in a clump 
 
 * B}' a vote of those who participated in the Arbor Day exercises of 1889, in New York State, the Maple 
 was chosen as the State Tree. See also, the selection at the foot of this page. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 207 
 
 of young trees of various kinds, and here we found nine nests, one in a locust, 
 the other eight in maples. Then following the street with trees irregularly 
 planted on either side, a few here, a few there, we counted forty-nine nests, all 
 of which were in maples, although several elms and locusts were mingled with 
 these; frequently there were several nests in the same maple. * * * Such 
 was the state of things in the principal streets through which we passed, mak- 
 ing in all one hundred and twenty-seven nests, and of these, eighteen were in 
 various kinds of trees, the remaining one hundred and nine were in maples. 
 
 Susan Fenimore Cooper in " Rural Hours ." 
 
 ACORN AND CHESTNUT. 
 
 ONE pleasant day in October an acorn and a chestnut were lying side by side 
 on the brown earth where they had fallen. 
 
 " I hope I shall be safe in the ground before winter comes," said the acorn. 
 " Snow and ice do not agree with me. In fact, if they come before I am under 
 shelter they will kill me ; and it would be sad indeed, if so fine and large an acorn 
 as I am should be lost ; for I expect to become a great oak some time, and oaks, 
 as you know, are the kings of the forest." 
 
 "Yes, I hope so too," said the chestnut, "I want to be safe before winter 
 comes. I would like to grow into a tree; for the swallows have told me that 
 in all lands a strong, tall tree is thought to be one of the finest things in the 
 world." 
 
 " Oh, chestnut trees are not much," said the acorn. " No one cares any thing 
 about them except the boys, who think it fun to climb up among their branches 
 and shake down the nuts. For my part, if I were a tree. I shouldn't care to 
 live just to please a few children; and 1 am sure it would make me very angry 
 to see them eating the fruit which I had taken the trouble to bear." 
 
 " Well, " said the chestnut, " every tree to its taste. Some trees would rather 
 have their food liked by boys and girls than have it be fit for nothing but pigs." 
 
 "What?" said the acorn, growing angry. "The oak is the noblest of all the 
 trees. From its wood are made the great ships that go sailing over the ocean. 
 It lives hundreds of years, and gives shade to thousands of people, and homes 
 to millions of birds ; and if, as I heard a man say one day, 'great oaks from 
 little acorns grow,' what a noble tree may be expected from such an acorn as 
 I am ! " 
 
 " But how will you be planted ? " asked the chestnut. 
 
 "Oh, that's easy enough," answered the acorn. "Everyday I feel myself 
 sinking deeper and deeper into the ground; and when I am deep enough the 
 wind will throw some fine rich earth over me, and there I shall lie snug and 
 warm until spring. 
 
 "Then, after putting out two little green leaves, I shall grow no more above 
 ground for some time, but only keep spreading my roots and making them 
 stronger. I shall grow slowly for years, until at last I shall spread out my 
 branches for a great distance around, and become the king of the forest. Ah, 
 how eiacl I am that I'm an acorn and not a chestnut ! " 
 
2oS ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Just then, a squirrel, who had been peeping at them from her nest in the 
 hollow of a tree, jumped down and seized the chestnut in her little gray paws. 
 
 "Good-by," sneered the acorn, as she carried it away. "That's the last of 
 you. But, then, there is no great loss. You would have been only a chestnut 
 tree, at the best. Chestnuts are good enough for squirrels." 
 
 But, when the squirrel had put the chestnut away in her nice little house, she 
 sprang down again, seized the acorn, and carried it up too. 
 
 " Hello," said the chestnut, " here we are together again. There is little hope 
 now that either of us will ever become a tree. And, as matters stand, I cannot 
 see that an acorn is very much better than a chestnut after all." 
 
 But the acorn said nothing. 
 
 THE ELM. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL in her majestic grandeur, as she sends out her branches to the 
 heavens, stands the American elm, a tough, hardy giant of field and for- 
 est, its massive trunks and wide-spreading roots bidding defiance to the strong- 
 est winds which nature can send to beat against its broad symmetrical top. 
 While Englishmen eulogize the oak, and poets sing of the linden and sycamore, 
 the hearts of the children of, at least, the Empire State, cling with devotion to 
 that tree, which marks so many important events in the history of the land they 
 love. Who has not heard of the Elm at Shakamaxon, under the spreading 
 branches of which William Penn made his famous treaty with the Indians, 
 which was never sworn to and which stands alone as the only treaty made by 
 the whites with the Indians which was never broken. For more than a century 
 and a quarter, this tree stood a grand monument of this most sincere treaty 
 ever made, but in 1S10 it was blown down, and a monument of marble now but 
 poorly marks the spot where it stood. 
 
 It was the elm that was first consecrated to American independence, and that 
 tree planted by the Boston school-master, so long before separation from Great 
 Britain was scarcely dreamed of in the colonies, and dedicated to their future 
 independence, was long looked upon with love and pride, and when at last it was 
 blown down, tolling bells related the story of its fall. 
 
 It was also the elm that shaded Washington on that July 3d, 1775, when he 
 took command of the American army at Cambridge, and began that long pub- 
 lic life in which he exhibited such brilliant talents, and won for himself the de- 
 serving title of " Father of his Country." 
 
 We have been an independent nation for more than a century, but this tree 
 still stands, and its massive trunk and wide-spreading branches form a fitting 
 emblem of the prosperous nation that started out, as it were, from beneath its 
 shade, and in it are centered fond remembrances of our Revolutionary fathers. 
 
 Years will pass away, and " Providence permitting, " these trees which we plant 
 to-day will have become sturdy elms. Those who are now school children will act 
 their part in the theatre of life and become old men and women ; but wherever they 
 are, whether they are in honor or disgrace, in prosperity or adversity, their hap- 
 piest recollections will be centered in these childhood days, and these elms mark- 
 ing this Arbor Day will long remain as monuments of former happy times. 
 
 " The Student" Richfield Springs, 1889. H. H. B. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 209 
 
 Written for the "Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 THE BIRCH TREE. 
 
 [Air — " Auld Lang Syne."] 
 
 THOUGH oak, and elm, and maple tree, Then plant the birch, the silver)' birch, 
 Call forth our love and care, Near to the school-house door, 
 
 With tender buds, and opening leaves, For teachers used its pliant limbs, 
 
 They woo the soft May air, Full oft in days of yore. 
 
 Let not the birch tree be forgot, And though 'tis used for rods no more, 
 
 For well I bear in mind 'Twill please the children kind, 
 
 Its spicy buds and fragrant bark, Its spicy buds and fragrant bark, 
 I searched the woods to find. They search the woods to find. 
 
 Mrs. Addie V. McMullen. 
 South Sodus, N. Y. 
 
 THE SEED. 
 
 THE farmer planted a seed, — 
 A little dry, black seed; 
 And off he went to other work, — 
 For the farmer never was known to shirk, — 
 And cared for what had need. 
 
 The night came with its dew, — 
 
 The cool and silent dew ; 
 The dawn came, and the day, 
 And the farmer worked away, 
 
 At labors not a few. 
 
 ***** 
 Home from his work one day, — 
 
 One glowing summer day, — 
 His children showed him a perfect flower; 
 It had burst in bloom that very hour; 
 
 How, I cannot say. 
 
 But I know if the smallest seed 
 
 In the soil of love be cast, 
 Both day and night will do their part; 
 And the sower who works with a patient heart, 
 
 Will find the flower at last. 
 
 Now blossom all the trees, and all the fields 
 And all the woods their pomp of foliage wear, 
 And nature's fairest robe adorns the blooming year. 
 
 14 Beattie. 
 
2 IO ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 ARBOR DAY. 
 
 THE observance of Arbor Day in New York State is at once new, novel and 
 interesting, as well as highly instructive. Its advantages are man}', and 
 'the public benefits that may be derived therefrom cannot be overestimated. 
 One of its main objects, however, as cited in the State Superintendent's circu- 
 lar letter, is to instill into the minds of the growing generation a genuine love 
 of Nature in her manifold forms, and to know and love Nature is to protect 
 her. It is meet, indeed, that our schools should become a coadjutant power, 
 and what activity and zeal they may manifest will perhaps inspire their elders 
 to better efforts. 
 
 The grandest achievement of this observation of Arbor Day would be to cen- 
 ter the public mind upon the all-important fact that stringent and immediate 
 measures should be adopted for the preservation of our forests, and to institute 
 a common-sense investigation relative to their important climatic effects in 
 many localities. Forest trees are excellent condensers of moisture, and as the 
 vapor-laden clouds float above the large tracts, the contained moisture is con- 
 densed and falls as rain or snow. In these densely wooded districts the soil is 
 naturally spongy and permeable. Rain falling on such ground is readily ab- 
 sorbed, and at once finds a passage to underground natural reservoirs, so valu- 
 able in many instances. The thick canopy of foliage affords excellent protec- 
 tion from the sun's greedy rays, and hence what moisture falls, is not lost in 
 evaporation. Streams which find their source here are never failing, and their 
 unceasing flow swells many a larger stream, thus made valuable for manufac- 
 turing power. And then again how dependent upon these tiny tributaries are 
 the many and varied manufacturing interests. How insignificant would be our 
 inland commerce and navigation without them. 
 
 As modifiers of the climate, trees, woodlands, and forest-tracts are not justly 
 appreciated. They cool the atmosphere, and so temper the extremes of climatic 
 " fickleness," that they become somewhat more endurable. They act as obstruc- 
 tions to destructive winds, which in event of the absence of forest-lands would 
 have a clear sweep across unprotected districts. As beneficial to health, they 
 stand pre-eminent. In primitive times forests were considered as hindrances, 
 and the clearing of forest lands was thought to be a national necessity. The 
 barrenness and sterility of the bible-countries was caused hy this demolition of 
 its forest lands, and trees are now so valuable in Persia that he who plants one 
 is known as a public benefactor. 
 
 The first advocate of tree-planting in this country was the Hon. G. P. Marsh, 
 and when the Central Pacific railroad was constructed, thousands of trees were 
 planted alongside. Thus the custom originated in the far west, was first adopted 
 as a holiday among the public schools in Nebraska, and has now reached the 
 east. May the day grow in popularit5 r , and may the lesson it strives to teach 
 become a public task. 
 
 " The Student " — Richfield Springs, 1889. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2 I I 
 
 A NEW HOLIDAY. 
 
 ANEW holiday is a boon to Americans, and this year the month of May gave 
 a new holiday to the State of New York. It has been already observed 
 elsewhere. It began, indeed, in Nebraska seventeen years ago, and thirty-four 
 States and two Territories have preceded New York in adopting it. If the name 
 of Arbor Day may seem to be a little misleading, because the word "arbor,' 
 which meant a tree to the Romans, means a bower to Americans, j r et it may well 
 serve until a better name is suggested, and its significance by general under- 
 standing will soon be as plain as Decoration Day. 
 
 The holiday has been happily associated in this State especially with the 
 public schools. This is most fitting, because the public school is the true and 
 universal symbol of the equal rights of all citizens before the law, and of the 
 fact that educated intelligence is the basis of 'good popular government. The 
 more generous the cultivation of the mind, and the wider the range of knowl- 
 edge, the more secure is the great national commonwealth. The intimate asso- 
 ciation of the schools with tree-planting is fortunate in attracting boys and 
 girls to a love and knowledge of nature, and to a respect for trees because of 
 their value to the whole community. 
 
 The scheme for the inauguration of the holiday in New York was issued by 
 the Superintendent of Public Instruction. It provided for simple and proper 
 exercises, the recitation of brief passages from English literature relating to 
 trees, songs about trees sung by the children, addresses, and planting of trees, 
 to be named for distinguished persons of every kind. 
 
 The texts for such addresses are indeed as numerous as the trees, and there 
 may be an endless improvement of the occasion, to the pleasure and the profit 
 of the scholars. They may be reminded that our knowledge of trees begins at 
 a ver)' early age, even their own, and that it usually begins with a close and 
 thorough knowledge of the birch. 
 
 This, indeed, might be called the earliest service of the tree to the child, if 
 we did not recall the cradle and the crib. The child rocking in the cradle is the 
 baby rocking in the tree-top, and as the child hears the nurse droning her 
 drows)^ rock-a-bye, baby, it may imagine that it hears the wind sighing through 
 the branches of the tree. To identify the tree with human life and to give the 
 pupil a personal interest in it will make the public school nurseries of sound 
 opinion which will prevent the ruthless destruction of the forests. 
 
 The sendee of the trees to us begins with the cradle and ends with the coffin. 
 But it continues through our lives, and is of almost unimaginable extent and 
 variety. In this country our houses and their furniture and the fences that 
 inclose them are largely the product of the trees. The fuel that warms them, 
 even if it be coal, is the mineralized wood of past ages. The frames and handles 
 of agricultural implements, wharves, boats, ships, India-rubber, gums, bark, 
 cork, carriages and railroad cars and ties — wherever the eye falls it sees the 
 beneficent service of the trees. Arbor Day recalls this direct service on even 
 hand, and reminds us of the indirect ministry of trees as guardians of the 
 sources of rivers — the great forests making the densely shaded hills, covered 
 
2 i 2 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 with the accumulating leaves of ages, huge sponges from which trickle the 
 supplies of streams. To cut the forests recklessly is to dry up the rivers. It 
 is a crime against the whole community, and scholars and statesmen both 
 declare that the proper preservation of the forests is the paramount public 
 question. Even in a mercantile sense it is a prodigious question, for the esti- 
 mated value of our forest products in 1880 was $800,000,000, a value nearly 
 double that of the wheat crop, ten times that of gold and silver, and forty times 
 that of our iron ore. 
 
 It was high time that we considered the trees. They are among our chief 
 benefactors, but they are much better friends to us than ever we have been to 
 them. If as the noble horse passes us, tortured with the overdraw check and 
 the close blinders and nagged with the goad, it is impossible not to pity him 
 that he has been delivered into the hands of men to be cared for, not less is the 
 tree to be pitied. It seems as if we had never forgotten or forgiven that early 
 and intimate acquaintance with the birch, and have been revenging ourselves 
 ever since. We have waged against trees a war of extermination like that of 
 the Old Testament Christians of Massachusetts Bay against the Pequot Indians. 
 We have treated the forests as if they were noxious savages or vermin. It was 
 necessary, of course, that the continent should be suitably cleared for settle- 
 ment and agriculture. But there was no need of shaving it as with a razor. If 
 Arbor Day teaches the growing generation of children that in clearing a field 
 some trees should be left for shade and for beauty, it will have rendered good 
 service. In regions rich with the sugar-maple tree the young maples are saved 
 from the general massacre because their sap, turned into sugar, is a marketable 
 commodity. But every tree yields some kind of sugar, if it be only shade for 
 a cow. 
 
 Let us hope also that Arbor Day will teach the children, under the wise 
 guidance of experts, that trees are to be planted with intelligence and care, if 
 they are to become both vigorous and beautiful. A sapling is not to be cut into 
 a bean-pole, but carefully trimmed in accordance with its form. A tree which 
 has lost its head will never recover it again, and will survive only as a monument 
 of the ignorance and folly of its tormentor. Indeed, one of the happiest results 
 of the new holiday will be the increase of knowledge which springs from per- 
 sonal interest in trees. 
 
 This will be greatly promoted by naming those which are planted on Arbor 
 Day. The interest of children in pet animals, in dogs, squirrels, rabbits, cats, 
 and ponies, springs largely from their life and their dependence upon human 
 care. When the young tree also is regarded as living and equally dependent 
 upon intelligent attention, when it is named by vote of the scholars, and 
 planted by them with music and pretty ceremony, it will also become a pet, 
 and a human relation will be established. If it be named for a living man or 
 woman, it is a living memorial and a perpetual admonition to him whose name 
 it bears not to suffer his namesake tree to outstrip him, and to remember that 
 a man, like a tree, is known by his fruits. 
 
 Trees will acquire a new charm for intelligent children when they associate 
 them with famous persons. Watching to see how Bryant and Longfellow are 
 growing, whether Abraham Lincoln wants water, or George Washington. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 213 
 
 promises to flower early, or Benjamin Franklin is drying up, whether Robert 
 Fulton is budding, or General Grant beginning to sprout, the pupil will find 
 that a tree may be as interesting as the squirrel that skims along its trunk, or 
 the bird that calls from its top like a muezzin from a minaret. 
 
 The future orators of Arbor Day will draw the morals that lie in the resem- 
 blances of all life. It is by care and diligent cultivation that the wild crab is 
 subdued to bear sweet fruit, and by skillful grafting and budding that the same 
 stock produces different varieties. And so you, Master Leonard or Miss Alice, 
 if you are cross and spiteful and selfish and bullying, you also must be budded 
 and trained. Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined, young gentlemen, and 
 you must start straight if you would not grow up crooked. Just as the boy 
 begins, the man turns out. 
 
 So, trained by Arbor Day, as the children cease to be children they will feel 
 the spiritual and refining influence, the symbolical beauty, of the trees. Like 
 men, they begin tenderly and grow larger and larger, in greater strength, more 
 deeply rooted, more widely spreading, stretching leafy boughs for birds to build 
 in, shading the cattle that chew the cud and graze in peace, decking themselves 
 in blossoms and ever-changing foliage, and murmuring with rustling music by 
 day and night. The thoughtful youth will see a noble image of the strong man 
 struggling with obstacles that he overcomes in a great tree wrestling mightily 
 with the wintry gales, and extorting a glorious music from the storms which it 
 triumphantly defies. 
 
 Arbor Day will make the country visibly more beautiful every year. Every 
 little community, every school district, will contribute to the good work. The 
 school-house will gradually become an ornament, as it is already the great 
 benefit of the village, and the children will be put in the way of living upon 
 more friendly and intelligent terms with the bountiful nature which is so 
 friendly to us. 
 
 George William Curtis. 
 
 Editor' s Easy Chair, Harper 's Magazine, July, 1889. 
 
 The objects of the restoration of the forests are as multifarious as the motives 
 which have led to their destruction, and as the evils which that destruction has 
 occasioned. The planting of the mountains will diminish the frequency and 
 violence of river inundations; prevent the formation of torrents; mitigate the 
 extremes of atmospheric temperature, humidity, and precipitation; restore 
 dried-up springs, rivulets, and sources of irrigation ; shelter the fields from 
 chilling and from parching winds; prevent the spread of miasmatic effluvia; 
 and, finally, furnish an inexhaustible and self-renewing supply of material indis- 
 pensable to so many purposes of domestic comfort, to the successful exercise 
 of every art of peace, every destructive energy of war. 
 
 George P. Marsh. 
 
 A brotherhood of venerable trees. Wordsworth — Somiet. 
 
214 
 
 ARBOR DA V- MANUAL. 
 
 UNDER THE PALMS. 
 
 I KNEW a palm tree upon Capri. It stood in select society of shining fig 
 leaves and lustrous oleanders; it overhung the balcony, and so looked, 
 far overleaning, down upon the blue Mediterranean. Through the dream-mists 
 of southern Italian noons it looked up the broad bay of Naples and saw vague 
 Vesuvius melting away; or at sunset the isles of the Sirens, whereon they singing 
 sat, and wooed Ulysses as he sailed by. From the Sorrento, where Tasso was 
 born, it looked across to pleasant Posilippo, where Virgil is buried, and to 
 stately Ischia. The palm of Capri saw all that was fairest and most famous in 
 the Bay of Naples. 
 
 The palm was a poet, — as ail palms are poets. When I asked a bard whom 
 I knew what the palm tree sang in its melancholy measures of waving, he told 
 me that not Vesuvius, nor the Sirens, nor Sorrento, nor Tasso, nor Virgil, 
 nor stately Ischia, nor all the broad blue beauty of Naples bay, was the 
 theme of that singing. But partly it sang of a river forever flowing, and of 
 cloudless skies, and green fields that never faded, and the mournful music of 
 water-wheels, and the wild monotony of a tropical life, — and partly of the yel- 
 low silence of the desert and of drear solitudes inaccessible, and of wandering 
 caravans* and lonely men. 
 
 Then it sang of gardens overhanging rivers that roll gorgeous-shored through 
 western fancies of gardens in Bagdad watered by the Euphrates and the Tigris 
 whereof it was the fringe and darling ornament, of oases in those sere sad deserts, 
 where it over-fountained fountains, and every leaf was blessed; more than all, 
 it sang of the great Orient universally, where no other tree was so abundant, so 
 loved, and so beautiful. 
 
 Palm branches were strewn before Jesus as he rode into Jerusalem, and for- 
 ever, since, the palm symbolizes peace. Wherever a grove of palms waves in 
 the low moonlight or starlight wind, it is the celestial choir chanting "peace on 
 earth, good will to men." Therefore it is the foliage of the old religious pictures. 
 Mary sits under a palm, and the saints converse under palms, and the prophets 
 prophesy in their shade, and cherubs float with palms over the martyr's agon)^. 
 Nor among pictures is there 3115- more beautiful than Corregio's " Flight into 
 Egypt," wherein the golden-haired angels put aside the palm branches, and smile 
 sunnily through upon the lovely mother and the lovely child. 
 
 The palm is the chief tree in religious remembrance and religious art. It is 
 the chief tree in romance and poetry. But its sentiment is always eastern, and 
 it always yearns for the east. In the west it is an exile, and pines in the most 
 sheltered gardens. Yet of all western shores it is the happiest in Sicily; for 
 Sicily is only a bit of Africa drifted westward. There is a soft southern strain 
 in the Sicilian skies, and the palms drink its sunshine like dew. Upon the 
 tropical plain behind Palermo, among the sun-sucking aloes, and the thick, 
 shapeless cactuses, like elephants and rhinoceroses enchanted into foliage, it 
 grows ever gladly. For the aloe is of the east, and the prickly pear ; and upon 
 the Sicilian plain the Saracens have been, and the palm sees the Arabian arch, 
 and the oriental sign-manual stamped upon the land. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 215 
 
 But the palms are not only poets, they are prophets as well. They are like 
 heralds sent forth upon the farthest points to celebrate to the traveler the glor- 
 ies they show. Like spring birds, they sing a summer unfading, and climes 
 where time wears the year as a queen a rosary of diamonds. The mariner, 
 eastward sailing, hears tidings from the chance palms that hang along the 
 southern Italian shore. They call out to him across the gleaming calm of a 
 Mediterranean noon, "Thou happy mariner, our souls sail with thee." 
 
 In the land of Egypt palms are perpetual. They are the only foliage of the 
 Nile, for we will not harm the modesty of a few mimosas and sycamores by 
 foolish claims. They are the shade of the mud villages, marking their site in 
 the landscape, so that the groups of palms are the number of the villages. They 
 fringe the shore and the horizon. The sun sets golden behind them, and birds 
 sit swinging upon their boughs and float glorious among their trunks; the 
 sugar cane is not harmed by the ghostly shade ; and the yellow flowers of the 
 cotton plant star its dusk at evening. The children play under them, and the 
 old men crone and smoke, the donkeys graze, and there the surly bison and 
 the conceited camels repose. 
 
 The eye never wearies of palms, more than the ear of singing birds. Solitary 
 they stand upon the sand, or upon the level fertile land in groups, with a grace 
 and dignity that no tree surpasses. Very soon the eye beholds, in their forms, 
 the original type of the columns which it will afterwards admire in the temples. 
 Almost the first palm is architecturally suggestive, even in western gardens — 
 but to artists living among them and seeing only them ! Men's hands are not 
 delicate in the early ages, and the fountain fairness of the palms is not very 
 flowingly fashioned in the capitals; but in the flowery perfection of the Par- 
 thenon the palm triumphs. The forms of those columns came -from Egypt, and 
 that which was the suspicion of the earlier workers, was the success of more 
 delicate designing. So is the palm inwound with our art, and poetry, and 
 religion. George William Curtis. 
 
 FOREST FLOWERS. 
 
 OUR forests are fast disappearing. In their sheltering shade and the rich 
 mould of their annually decaying leaves, the greater number of our love- 
 liest plants are found; and when the axe comes, that cruel weapon that wars 
 upon nature's freshness, and the noble oak, the elm, the beech, the maple, and 
 the tulip tree fall with a loud crash in the peaceful so'litude, even the very 
 birds can understand that a floral death knell sounds through the melodious 
 wilderness. 
 
 A number of our choicest plants are threatened with extinction; for as the woods 
 are cleared away these tender offsprings, the pretty flowers which we so dearly 
 cherish, will perish utterly. It is, therefore, well to prevent as far as possible 
 the .destruction of our native forests, as well as to plant forest trees if for no 
 ether purpose than the preservation of the little helpless, blooming beauties 
 that adorn our woodland shades. 
 
 Gustavus Frankenstein. 
 
2 j 5 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 A SERMON FROM A THORN-APPLE TREE. 
 
 **T WANT to tell you about my thorn-apple tree. It came up by the gate, 
 where it gets the drip from the watering-trough ; that's what made it grow 
 so strong and handsome. Every year it is just as full of blossoms as the apple 
 trees, and you know what it bears — little red seed}- berries, good for noth- 
 ing at all, so I used to think. But the first spring after I was sick, when I was 
 thinking how pretty it was — all blown out, and the green leaves peeping 
 through the white — it just came to me that the thorn-apple was doing what it 
 was made for exactly, the same as the russet trees and the pippins ; and I took 
 notice, as I never did before, how the squirrels came to eat the seeds in the fall, 
 and h ow the blue-jays and the winter-birds seemed always to find something 
 there for a breakfast, and I came to love that thorn-apple and enjoy it more 
 than any thing else. It always seemed to have some lesson for me. I call it my 
 preacher, and whenever I look at it I think the Lord wants thorn-apples as well 
 as pippins. He sets a good many of His children to feeding birds and squirrels, 
 and doing little things that nobody takes any note of, and I'm thankful ever)'' 
 day that He lets me grow the blossoms, and feed His birds. Perhaps that is all 
 He may want of you, Ruby, but don't you be troubled about that. 'Abide in 
 Him,' as the branch abideth in the vine, and He'll see to the fruit. It will be 
 just the kind He wants you to bear." 
 
 From Emily Huntington Miller's " Thorn-Apple" 
 
 THE TRAILING ARBUTUS. 
 
 I WANDERED lonely where the pine trees mads 
 Against the bitter East their barricade, 
 And, guided by its sweet 
 Perfume, I found, within a narrow dell, 
 The trailing spring flower tinted like a shell 
 Amid dry leaves and mosses at my feet. 
 
 From under dead boughs, for whose loss the pines 
 Moaned ceaseless overhead, the blossoming vines 
 
 Lifted their glad surprise, 
 While yet the bluebird smoothed in leafless trees 
 His feathers ruffled by the chill sea-breeze, 
 
 And snow-drifts lingered under April skies. 
 
 As, pausing, o'er the loneiy flower i oent, 
 
 I thought of lives thus slowly, clogged and pent, 
 
 Which ) r et find room 
 Through care and cumber; coldness and decay, 
 To lend a sweetness to the ungenial day, 
 
 And make the sad earth happier for their bloom. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2 I J 
 
 THE HISTORIC TREE OF CHICAGO. 
 
 AT the Arbor Day exercises held in April by the Illinois Chautauqua Union, 
 a paper was read by a member of the Lakeside Circle, entitled ''A Voice 
 from the Historic Tree of Chicago." Through the kindness of the writer this 
 article has been given to the Local History column and from it we take a few 
 items : 
 
 In the middle of Eighteenth street, between Prairie avenue and the lake, 
 stands a large cotton-wood tree ; it is the last of a group which marked the spot 
 where the Indian massacre of 1812 took place. Fort Dearborn stood at the 
 mouth of Chicago river, about one and one-half miles from the clump of trees. 
 It was in command of Captain Heald. In August an army of Indians attacked 
 the fort, and the garrison being weak, the commandant offered to surrender on 
 condition that the force might withdraw without molestation. At nine o'clock 
 on August 15, the party, composed of about seventy-five persons, advanced 
 from the fort along the Indian trail which follows the lake shore. Captain 
 Wells who had come to the assistance of Captain Heald, led the line. The 
 women were on horseback, and the children in a wagon. They had reached 
 the present location of Fourteenth street when the six hundred Pottawatamie 
 Indians who had volunteered to escort them safely to Fort Wayne struck out 
 toward the prairie, and, concealed by a range of sand hills which separated the 
 prairie from the lake, hurried forward and placed an ambuscade for the troops. 
 When the little band had reached the cotton-wood tree, a volley was showered 
 by the Indians. The officers, men, and even the women fought for their lives ; 
 but what could seventj r -five whites (some of whom had been on the sick list) 
 do against six hundred savages ? The entire party of children, twelve in num- 
 ber, were tomahawked and scalped. Captain Wells was slain ; in an hour only 
 twenty-five of the party remained alive, and Captain Heald surrendered on con- 
 dition that the lives of the remnant be spared. The only wounded spared were 
 Captain Heald and Lieutenant Helm and their wives. Fifty-two dead bodies 
 of the whites were left on the ground. In 1816 when the fort was rebuilt and 
 the troops returned, the bones were collected and buried. 
 
 Chautauqiian, November, 18S8. 
 
 
 
 LITTLE THINGS. 
 
 FOR A LITTLE CHILD. 
 
 LITTLE flowers, you love me so, O little moss, observed hy few, 
 You could not do without me ; That round the tree is creeping, 
 
 O little birds that come and go, You like my head to rest on you, 
 
 You sing sweet songs about me ; While I am idly sleeping. 
 
 Go forth under the open sky, and list 
 
 To Nature's teaching. Bryant's Thanatopsis. 
 
2 j g ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 SPARE THE TREES. 
 
 ALAS, in how many places is the forest which once lent us shade, nothing 
 more than a memory. The grave and noble circle which adorned the 
 mountain is every day contracting. Where you come in hope of seeing life, 
 you find but the image of death. O, who will really undertake the defense of 
 the trees, and rescue them from senseless destruction ? Who will eloquently 
 set forth their manifold mission, and their active and incessant assistance in the 
 regulation of the laws which rule our globe ? Without them, it seems delivered 
 over to blind destiny, which will involve it again into chaos. The motive 
 powers and purificators of the atmosphere through the respiration of their foli- 
 age, avaricious collectors to the advantage of future ages of the solar heat, it is 
 they which pacify the storm and avert its most disastrous consequences. In 
 the low-lying plains, which have no outlet for their waters, the trees, long be- 
 fore the advent of man, drained the soil by their roots, forcing the stagnant 
 waters to descend and construct at a lower depth their useful reservoirs. And 
 now, on the abrupt declivities, they consolidate the crumbling soil, check and 
 break the torrent, control the melting of the snows, and preserve to the 
 meadows the fertile humidity which in due time will overspread them with a 
 sea of flowers. And is not this enough ? To watch over the life of the plant 
 and its general harmony, is it not to watch over the safety of humanity? The 
 tree, again, was created for the nurture of man, to assist him in his industries 
 and his arts. It is owing to the tree, to its soul, earth buried for so many cen- 
 turies, and now restored to light, that we have secured the wings of the steam 
 engine. Thank heaven for the trees! With my feeble voice I claim for them 
 the gratitude of man. Madame Michelet. 
 
 SPRING-TIME IS COMING. 
 
 THE spring-time is coming, the winter is past; 
 The flowers are waking at last, at last. 
 Awake, little sleepers, from forest and field 
 Oh, sweet is the joy that to us you yield. 
 
 The birds sing out from each tree and bush ; 
 The violets listen with a sweet fragrant hush. 
 Oh, every thing that's sleeping still awake, awake 
 To life and spring-time awake. 
 
 For when the world was new, the race that broke 
 Unfathered, from the soil or opening oak, 
 Lived most unlike the men of later times. 
 
 Juvenal. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 2I 9 
 
 THE ROBIN. 
 
 MY old Welch neighbor over the way- 
 Crept slowly out in the sun of spring, 
 Pushed from her ears the locks of grav, 
 And listened to hear the robin sing. 
 
 Her grandson, playing at marbles, stopped, 
 
 And cruel in sport as boys will be, 
 Tossed a stone at the bird, who hopped 
 
 From bough to bough in the apple tree. 
 
 ' Nay ! " said the grandmother; " have you not heard, 
 
 My poor, bad boy ! of the fiery pit, 
 And how. drop by drop, this merciful bird 
 Carries the water that quenches it ? 
 
 ' He brings cool dew in his little bill, 
 
 And lets it fall on the souls of sin ; 
 You can see the mark on his red breast still ' 
 Of fires that scorch as he drops it in. 
 
 ; My poor bron rhuddyn ! my breast-burned bird, 
 
 Singing so sweetly from limb to limb, 
 Very dear to the heart of our Lord 
 
 Is he who pities the lost like him ! " 
 
 ' Amen ! " I said to the beautiful myth ; 
 
 " Sing, bird of God, in my heart as well ; 
 Each good thought is a drOp wherewith 
 To cool and lessen the fires of hell. 
 
 Prayers of love like rain drops fall, 
 
 Tears of pity are cooling dew, 
 And dear to the heart of our Lord are all 
 
 Who suffer like Him in the good they do ! 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 The sounding cataract 
 Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, 
 The mountain and the deep and gloomy wood, 
 Their colors and their forms, were then to me 
 An appetite. 
 
 Wordsworth's Tzntern Abbey. 
 
220 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE STORY OF "HIAWATHA." 
 
 TRACED BY TREES AND SUNG BY BIRDS. 
 Arranged for the " Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 IN dedicating a tree to the memory of Longfellow, this " story " may be arranged for 
 an entire class or grade. It is especially appropriate for high school and academic 
 grades, in cities and villages where but a single tree is to be planted by the class. 
 
 introduction. Listen to these wild traditions, 
 
 Should you ask me, whence these stories? To this Song of Hiawatha ! 
 
 Whence these legends and traditions, 
 With the odors of the forest, 
 With the dew and damp of meadows, 
 With the curling smoke of wigwams, 
 With the rushing of great rivers, 
 With their frequent repetitions, 
 And their wild reverberations, 
 As of thunder in the mountains? 
 
 I should answer, I should tell you, 
 " From the forests and the prairies." 
 ***** 
 
 Should you ask where Nawadaha 
 
 THE PEACE PIPE. 
 
 From the red stone of the quarry 
 With his hand he broke a fragment, 
 Moulded it into a pipe head, 
 Shaped and fashioned it with figures; 
 From the margin of the river 
 Took a long reed for a pipe-stem, 
 With its dark green leaves upon it; 
 Filled the pipe with bark of willow, 
 With the bark of the red willow; 
 Breathed upon the neighboring forest, 
 Found these songs, so wild and wayward, Made its great boughs chafe together, 
 
 Found these legends and traditions, 
 I should answer, I should tell you, 
 
 " In the birds'-nests of the forest, 
 In the lodges of the beaver, 
 In the hoof-ppints of the bison, 
 In the eyry of the eagle ! 
 
 Till in flame they burst and kindled; 
 And erect upon the mountains, 
 Gitchie Manito, the mighty. 
 Smoked the calumet, the Peace Pipe, 
 As a signal to the nations. 
 
 " In the Vale of Tawasentha, 
 
 In the green and silent valley, 
 
 By the pleasant water-courses, 
 
 Dwelt the singer Nawadaha. 
 
 Round about the Indian village 
 
 Spread the meadows and the cornfields, 
 
 And beyond them stood the forest, 
 
 Stood the groves of singing pine trees, 
 
 Green in summer, white in winter, 
 
 Ever sighing, ever singing. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 Ye who love the haunts of nature, 
 Love the sunshine of the meadow, 
 Love the shadow of the forest, 
 Love the wind among the branches, 
 And the rain-shower and the snow-storm, 
 And the rushing of great rivers 
 Through their palisades of pine trees, 
 And the thunder in the mountains, 
 Whose innumerable echoes 
 Flap like eagles in their eyries: 
 
 THE EAST WIND. 
 
 Lonely in the sky was Wabun; 
 Though the birds sang gayly to him, 
 Though the wild flowers of the meadow 
 Filled the air with odors for him, 
 Though the forests and the rivers 
 Sang and shouted at his coming, 
 Still his heart was sad within him, 
 For he was alone in heaven. 
 
 But one morning, gazing earthward, 
 While the village still was sleeping, 
 And the fog lay on the river, 
 Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise, 
 He beheld a maiden walking 
 All alone upon a meadow, 
 Gathering water-flags and rushes 
 By a river in the meadow, 
 
 Ever)' morning, gazing earthward, 
 Still the first thing he beheld there 
 Was her blue eyes looking at him, 
 Two blue lakes among the rushes. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MAX UAL. 
 
 221 
 
 THE NORTH WIND. 
 
 But the fierce Kabibonokka 
 Had his dwelling among icebergs, 
 In the everlasting snow-drifts, 
 In the kingdom of Wabasso, 
 In the land of the White Rabbit. 
 He it was whose hand in autumn 
 Painted all the trees with scarlet, 
 Stained the leaves with red and yellow; 
 He it was who sent the snow-flakes, 
 Sifting, hissing through the forest, 
 Froze the ponds, the lakes, the rivers, 
 Drove the loon and sea-gull southward, 
 Drove the cormorant and curlew 
 To their nests of sedge and sea-tang 
 In the realms of Shawondasee. 
 
 Hiawatha's childhood. 
 
 By the shores of Gitchie Gumee 
 
 By the shining Big-Sea- Water, 
 
 Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, 
 
 Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis. 
 
 Dark behind it rose the forest, 
 
 Rose the black and gloomy pine trees, 
 
 Rose the firs with cones upon them: 
 
 Bright before it beat the water, 
 
 Beat the clear and sunny water, 
 
 Beat the shining Big-Sea- Water. 
 
 ***** 
 
 At the door on summer evenings 
 Sat the little Hiawatha; 
 Heard the whispering of the pine trees, 
 Heard the lapping of the water, 
 Sounds of music, words of wonder; 
 " Minne-wawa ! " said the pine trees, 
 ,' Mudway-aushka! " said the water. 
 
 Then Iagoo the great boaster, 
 He the marvelous story-teller, 
 He the traveler and the talker 
 He the friend of old Nokomis, 
 Made a bow for Hiawatha; 
 From a branch of ash he made it, 
 From an oak bough made the arrows, 
 Tipped with flint, and winged with teamen, 
 And the chord he made of deer-skin. 
 
 Then he said to Hiawatha: 
 " Go my son, into the forest, 
 Where the red deer herd together, 
 Kill for us a famous roe buck, 
 
 Kill for us a deer with antlers ! " 
 
 Forth into the forest straightway 
 All alone walked Hiawatha 
 Proudly, with his bow and arrows; 
 And the birds sang round him, o'er him, 
 " Do not shoot us, Hiawatha ! " 
 Sang the robin, the Opeechee, 
 Sang the bluebird the Owaissa, 
 " Do not shoot us, Hiawatha ! " 
 
 Up the oak tree, close beside him, 
 Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
 In and out among the branches, 
 Coughed and chattered from the oak irfc^. 
 Laughed, and said between his laughing, 
 " Do not shoot me, Hiawatha ! " 
 
 And the -.'aboil from his pathway 
 Leaped aside, and at a distance 
 Sat erect u^jou his haunches, 
 Half \r, f.-ai- and half in frolic, 
 Sayicg to the little hunter, 
 " J jo not shoot me, Hiawatha ! " 
 
 But he heeded not, nor heard them, 
 £^v his thoughts were with the red deer. 
 
 AFTER THE BATTLE WITH MUDJEKEEWIS. 
 The Meeting with " Laughing- Water.' 
 
 Homeward now went Hiawatha; 
 feasant was the landscape round him, 
 Pleasant was the air above him, 
 For the bitterness of anger 
 Had departed wholly from him, 
 From his brain the thought of vengeance, 
 From his heart the burning fever. 
 
 Only once his pace he slackened, 
 
 -Only once he paused or halted, 
 
 Paused to purchase heads of arrows, 
 
 Of the ancient arrow-maker, 
 
 in the land of the Dacotahs, 
 
 Where the Falls of Minnehaha 
 
 Flash and gleam among the oak trees 
 
 Laugh and leap into the valley. 
 
 ***** 
 
 With him dwelt his dark-eyed daughter, 
 \Vayward as the Minnehaha, 
 With her moods of shade and sunshine, 
 Eyes that smiled and frowned alternate, 
 Feet as rapid as the river, 
 Tresses flowing like the water, 
 And as musical a laughter; 
 
222 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 And he named her from the river, 
 From the waterfall he named her, 
 Minnehaha, Laughing-Water. 
 * # * * * 
 
 hiawatha's fasting. 
 You shall hear how Hiawatha 
 Prayed and fasted in the forest, 
 Not for greater skill in hunting, 
 Not for greater craft in fishing, 
 Not for triumphs in the battle 
 And renown among the warriors, 
 But for profit of the people, 
 For advantage of the nations. 
 
 THE MAIZE. 
 After wrestling with Mondamin, 
 
 Homeward then went Hiawatha 
 To the lodge of old Nokomis, 
 And the seven days of his fasting 
 Were accomplished and completed. 
 But the place was not forgotten 
 Where he wrestled with Mondamin; 
 Nor forgotten nor neglected 
 Was the grave where lay Mondamin. 
 Sleeping in the rain and sunshine, 
 Where his scattered plumes and garments 
 Faded in the rain and sunshine, 
 
 Day by day did Hiawatha 
 Go to wait and watch beside it; 
 Kept the dark mould soft above it, 
 Kept it clean from weeds and insects, 
 Drove awaj', with scoffs and shoutings 
 Kahgahgee, the king of ravens, 
 
 Till at length a small green feather 
 From the earth shot slowly upward, 
 Then another, and another, 
 And before the summer ended 
 Stood the maize in all its beauty, 
 With its shining robes about it, 
 And its long soft yellow tresses; 
 And in rapture Hiawatha 
 Cried aloud, "It is Mondamin ! 
 Yes, the friend of man, Mondamin ! " 
 
 Then he called to old Nokomis 
 And Iagoo the great boaster, 
 Showed them where the maize was growing 
 Told them of his wondrous, vision, 
 Of his wrestling and his triumph, 
 Of this new gift to the nations. 
 Which should be their food forever. 
 
 THE SWEET SINGER. 
 
 Most beloved by Hiawatha 
 Was the gentle Chibiabos, 
 He the best of all musicians, 
 He the sweetest of all singers. 
 Beautiful and childlike was he, 
 Brave as man is, soft as woman, 
 Pliant as a wand of willow, 
 Stately as a deer with antlers. 
 
 When he sang, the village listened; 
 All the warriors gathered round him; 
 All the women came to hear him; 
 Now he stirred their souls to passion, 
 Now he melted them to pity. 
 
 From the hollow reeds he fashioned 
 Flutes so musical and mellow, 
 That the brook, the Sebowisha, 
 Ceased to murmur in the woodland, 
 That the wood-birds ceased from singing, 
 And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
 Ceased his chatter in the oak tree, 
 And the rabbit, the Wabasso, 
 Sat upright to look and listen. 
 
 Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha, 
 Pausing, said, "O Chibiabos, 
 Teach my waves to flow in music, 
 Softly as your words in singing ! " 
 
 Yes, the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
 Envious said, "O Chibiabos, 
 Teach me tones as wild and wayward, 
 Teach me songs as full of frenzy ! " 
 
 Yes, the robin, the Opeechee, 
 Joyous said, " O Chibiabos, 
 Teach me tones as sweet and tender, 
 Teach me songs as full of gladness ! " 
 
 And the whippoorwill, Wawonaissa, 
 Sobbing, said, " O Chibiabos, 
 Teach me tones as melancholy, 
 Teach me songs as full of sadness ! " 
 
 All the many sounds of nature 
 Borrowed sweetness from his singing; 
 All the hearts of men were softened 
 By the pathos of his music; 
 For he sang of peace and freedom, 
 Sang of beauty, love and longing; 
 Sang of death and life undying 
 In the Islands of the Blessed, 
 In the kingdom of Ponemah 
 In the land of the Hereafter. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 223 
 
 KWASIND. 
 
 " Lazy Kwasind ' " said his mother 
 
 " In my work you never help me ! 
 
 In the summer you are«roaming 
 
 Idly in the fields and forests." 
 
 ***** 
 
 " Lazy Kwasind ! " said his father, 
 
 " In the hunt you never help me; 
 
 Every bow you touch is broken, 
 
 Snapped asunder every arrow; 
 
 Yet come with me to the forest, 
 
 You shall bring the hunting homeward." 
 
 Down a narrow pass they wandered, 
 Where a brooklet led them onward, 
 Where the trail of deer and bison 
 Marked the soft mud on the margin, 
 Till they found all further passage 
 Shut against them, barred securely 
 By the trunks of trees uprooted, 
 Lying lengthwise, lying crosswise 
 And forbidding further passage. 
 
 " We must go back," said the old man 
 " O'er these logs we cannot clamber; 
 Not a woodchuck could get through them, 
 Not a squirrel clamber o'er them ! " 
 And straightway his pipe he lighted, 
 And sat down to smoke and ponder. 
 But before his pipe was finished, 
 Lo ! the path was cleared before him; 
 All the trunks had Kwasind lifted, 
 To the right hand, to the left hand, 
 Shot the pine trees swift as arrows, 
 Hurled the cedars light as lances. 
 
 HIAWATHA S SAILING. 
 Bziilding Hie Birch Canoe. 
 
 " Give me of your bark, O birch tree ! 
 Of your yellow bark, O birch tree ! 
 Growing by the rushing river, 
 Tall and stately in the valley ! 
 I a light canoe will build me, 
 Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing, 
 Thou shalt float upon the river, 
 Like a yellow leaf in autumn, 
 Like a yellow water lily ! 
 
 " Lay aside your cloak, O birch tree ! 
 Lay aside your white-skin wrapper, 
 For the summer time is coming, 
 
 And the sun is warm in heaven, 
 And you need no white-skin wrapper ! " 
 Thus aloud cried Hiawatha 
 
 In the solitary forest. 
 
 ***** 
 
 And the tree with all its branches 
 Rustled in the breeze of morning, 
 Saying with a sigh of patience, 
 " Take my cloak, O Hiawatha ! " 
 
 With his knife the tree he girdled; 
 Just beneath its lowest branches, 
 Just above the roots he cut it, 
 Till the sap came oozing outward ; 
 Down the trunk, from top to bottom, 
 Sheer he cleft the bark asunder, 
 With a wooden wedge he raised it, 
 Stripped it from the trunk unbroken. 
 
 " Give me of your boughs, O Cedar ! 
 Of your strong and pliant branches, 
 My canoe to make more steady, 
 Make more strong and firm beneath me! " 
 , Through the summit of the Cedar 
 
 Went a sound, a cry of horror, 
 Went a murmur of resistance , 
 But it whispered, bending downward, 
 " Take my boughs, O Hiawatha! " 
 
 Down he hewed the boughs of Cedar, 
 Shaped them straightway to a framework, 
 Like two bows he formed and shaped them, 
 Like two bended bows together. 
 
 " Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! 
 Of your fibrous roots, O Larch tree! 
 My canoe to bind together, 
 So to bind the ends together 
 That the water may not enter, 
 That the river may not wet me! " 
 
 And the Larch, with all its fibres, 
 Shivered in the air of morning, 
 Touched his forehead with its tassels, 
 Said, with one long sigh of sorrow, 
 "Take them all, O Hiawatha! " 
 
 From the earth he tore the fibres, 
 Tore the tough roots of the Larch tree, 
 Closely sewed the bark together, 
 Bound it closely to the framework. 
 
 " Give me of your balm, O Fir tree! 
 Of your balsam and your resin, 
 So to close the seams together 
 That the water may not enter, 
 
224 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 That the river may not wet me! " 
 
 And the Fir tree tall and sombre, 
 Sobbed through all its robes of darkness, 
 Rattled like a shore with pebbles, 
 Answered wailing, answered weeping, 
 " Take my balm, O, Hiawatha! " 
 
 And he took the tears of balsam, 
 Took the resin of the Fir tree, 
 Smeared therewith each seam and fissure, 
 
 Made each crevice safe from water. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Thus the Birch Canoe was builded 
 In the valley, by the river, 
 In the bosom of the forest ; 
 And the forest's life was in it, 
 All its mystery and its magic, 
 All the lightness of the birch tree, 
 All the toughness of the cedar, 
 All the larch's supple sinews; 
 And it floated on the river 
 Like a jellow leaf in autumn, 
 Like a yellow water-lily. 
 
 HIAWATHA AND THE PEARL FEATHER. 
 The Battle with Megissog-won. — The Woodpecker, 
 Then began the greatest battle 
 That the sun had ever looked on, 
 
 That the war-birds ever witnessed. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Till at sunset Hiawatha 
 Leaning on his bow of ash tree, 
 Wounded, weary, and desponding, 
 With his mighty war-club broken, 
 With his mittens torn and tattered, 
 And three useless arrows only, 
 Paused to rest beneath a pine tree, 
 From whose branches trailed the mosses, 
 And whose trunk was coated over 
 With the Dead-man's Moccasin-leather, 
 
 With the fungus white and yellow. 
 Suddenly from the boughs above him 
 Sang the Ma'ma, the woodpecker : 
 "Aim your arrows, Hiawatha, 
 At the head of Megissog'won, 
 Strike the tuft of hair upon it, 
 At their roots the long black tresses ; 
 There alone can he be wounded! " 
 
 Swift flew Hiawatha's arrow, 
 
 Swifter flew the second arrow, 
 ***** 
 
 But the third and latest arrow 
 
 Swiftest flew, and wounded sorest. 
 
 ***** 
 
 At the feet of Hiawatha 
 Lifeless lay the great Pearl-feather, 
 Lay the mightiest of Magicians. 
 Then the grateful Hiawatha 
 Called the Ma'ma, the woodpecker, 
 From his perch among the branches 
 Of the melancholy pine tree, 
 And, in honor of his service, 
 Stained with blood the tuft of feathers 
 On the little head of Ma'ma ; 
 Even to this da)' he wears it, 
 Wears the tuft of crimson feathers, 
 As a symbol of his service. 
 
 HIAWATHA'S WOOING. 
 
 Thus departed Hiawatha 
 To the land of the Dacotahs, 
 To the land of handsome women ; 
 Striding over moor and meadow, 
 Through interminable forests, 
 Through uninterrupted silence. 
 
 With his moccasins of magic, 
 At each stride a mile he measured; 
 Yet the way seemed long before him, 
 And his heart outrun his footsteps; 
 And he journeyed without resting, 
 Till he heard the cataract's laughter, 
 Heard the falls of Minnehaha 
 Calling to him through the silence. 
 
 ***** 
 
 She was thinking of a hunter, 
 From another tribe and country, 
 Young and tall and very handsome, 
 Who, one morning, in the Spring-time, 
 Came to buy her father's arrows, 
 Sat and rested in the wigwam, 
 Lingered long about the doorway, 
 Looking back as he departed. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Would he come again for arrows 
 To the Falls of Minnehaha ? 
 On the mat her hands lay idle, 
 And her eyes were very dreamy. [step, 
 
 Through their thoughts they heard a foot- 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 225 
 
 Heard a rustling in the branches, 
 And with glowing cheek and forehead, 
 With the deer upon his shoulders, 
 Suddenly from out the woodlands 
 Hiawatha stood before them. 
 
 * # # # # 
 
 Thus continued Hiawatha, 
 
 And then added, speaking slowly, 
 
 " That this peace may last forever, 
 
 And our hands be clasped more closely, 
 
 And our hearts be more united, 
 
 Give me as my wife this maiden, 
 
 Minnehaha, Laughing Water, 
 
 Loveliest of Dacotah women! " 
 
 ***** 
 
 And the lovely Laughing Water 
 Seemed more lovely, as she stood there, 
 Neither willing or reluctant, 
 As she went to Hiawatha, 
 Softly took the seat beside him, 
 While she said, and blushed to say it, 
 " I will follow you my husband!" 
 
 ***** 
 
 Pleasant was the journey homeward, 
 Through interminable forests, 
 Over meadow, over mountain, 
 Over river, hill and hollow. 
 
 All the spoons of horn of bison, 
 Black and polished very smoothly. 
 
 She had sent through all the village 
 Messengers with wands of willow, 
 As a sign of invitation 
 As a token of the feasting. 
 
 THE TRANSFORMATION OF OSSEO. 
 
 lagoons Story. 
 
 " Hear the story of Osseo. 
 
 ***** 
 
 In the Northland lived a hunter 
 With ten young and comely daughters 
 Tall and lithe as wands of willow; 
 Only Oweenee, the youngest, 
 She the wilful and the wayward, 
 She the silent dreamy maiden, 
 Was the fairest of the sisters. 
 
 "All these women married warriors, 
 Married brave and haughty husbands ; 
 Only Oweenee, the youngest, 
 Laughed and flouted all her lovers. 
 All her young and handsome suitors 
 And then married old Osseo. 
 
 ***** 
 
 "Ah, but beautiful within him 
 Was the spirit of Osseo. 
 
 Over wide and rushing rivers 
 In his arms he bore the maiden; 
 Light he thought her as a feather, 
 As the plume upon his head-gear; 
 Cleared the tangled pathway for her, 
 Bent aside the swaying branches, 
 Made at night a lodge of branches, 
 And a bed with boughs of hemlock, 
 And a fire before the doorway 
 With the dry cones of the pine tree. 
 
 " Once to some great feast invited, 
 Through the damp and dusk of evening 
 Walked together the ten sisters, 
 Walked together with their husbands; 
 Slowly followed old Osseo, 
 With fair Oweenee beside him; 
 All the others chatted gayly, 
 These two only walked in silence. 
 
 " At the western sky Osseo 
 Gazed intent as if imploring, 
 
 Thus it was that Hiawatha 
 
 To the lodge of old Nokomis 
 
 Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight. 
 
 Brought the sunshine of his people. 
 
 "And they heard him murmur softly, 
 " ' Pity, pity me, my father ! ' 
 
 " ' Listen ! ' said the eldest sister, 
 ' He is praying to his father ! ' 
 
 THE WEDDING FEAST. 
 
 Sumptuous was the feast of Nokomis 
 Made at Hiawatha's wedding; 
 All the bowls were made of bass wood, 
 White and polished very smoothly, 
 15 
 
 "And they laughed till all the forest 
 Rang with their unseemly laughter. 
 
 " On their pathway through the wood- 
 lands 
 La} r an oak by storms uprooted, 
 
226 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Lay the great trunk of an oak tree, 
 
 Buried half in leaves and mosses, 
 
 Mouldering, crumbling, huge and hollow. 
 
 And Osseo, when he saw it, 
 
 Gave a shout, a cry of anguish, 
 
 Leaped into its yawning cavern, 
 
 At one end went in an old man, 
 
 Wasted, wrinkled, old and ugly, 
 
 From the other came a young man, 
 
 Tall and straight and strong and handsome, 
 
 " Thus Osseo was transfigured, 
 Thus restored to youth and beauty." 
 
 Heard them laughing like the blue jays, 
 Heard them singing like the robins. 
 
 And whene'er some lucky maiden 
 Found a red ear in the husking, 
 Found a maize-ear red as blood is, 
 " Nushka ! " cried they altogether, 
 " Nushka ! you shall have a sweetheart, 
 You shall have a handsome husband ! " 
 " Ugh ! " the old men all responded, 
 From their seats beneath the pine trees. 
 
 BLESSING THE CORN FIELDS. 
 
 Once when all the maize was planted, 
 Hiawatha, wise and thoughtful, 
 Spake and said to Minnehaha, 
 To his wife, the Laughing Water : 
 " You shall bless to-night the corn-fields, 
 Draw a magic circle round them, 
 To protect them from destruction." 
 
 * * * # * 
 
 On the tree-tops near the corn-fields 
 Sat the hungry crows and ravens, 
 Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 
 With his band of black marauders, 
 And they laughed at Hiawatha, 
 Till the tree-tops shook with laughter, 
 With their melancholy laughter, 
 At the words of Hiawatha. 
 
 ***** 
 
 And the merry Laughing Water 
 Went rejoicing from the wigwam, 
 With Nokomis, old and wrinkled, 
 And the}' called the women round them, 
 Called the young men and the maidens, 
 To the harvest of the corn-fields, 
 To the husking of the maize-ear. 
 On the border of the forest, 
 Underneath the fragrant pine trees, 
 Sat the old men and the warriors 
 Smoking in the pleasant shadow. 
 In uninterrupted silence 
 Looked the)' at the gamesome labor 
 Of the young men and the women; 
 Listened to their noisy talking. 
 To their laughter and their singing, 
 Heard them chattering like the magpies, 
 
 PICTURE WRITING. 
 
 And the last of all the figures 
 Was a heart within a circle, 
 Drawn within a magic circle; 
 And the image had this meaning; 
 " Naked lies your heart before me, 
 To your naked heart I whisper ! " 
 
 Thus it was that Hiawatha, 
 In his wisdom taught the people 
 All the mysteries of painting, 
 All the art of picture writing, 
 On tfye smooth bark of the birch tree, 
 On the white skin of the reindeer, 
 On the grave-posts of the village. 
 
 hiawatha's lamentation. 
 
 Death of Chibiabos. 
 
 Once when Peboan, the winter, 
 
 Roofed with ice the Big- Sea-Water, 
 
 When the snow-flakes, whirling dow'nward, 
 
 Hissed among the withered oak-leaves, 
 
 Changed the pine trees into wigwams, 
 
 Covered all the earth with silence, — 
 
 Armed with arrows, shod with snow-shoes, 
 
 Heeding not his brother's warning, 
 
 Fearing not the Evil Spirits, 
 
 Forth to hunt the deer with antlers 
 
 All alone went Chibiabos. 
 
 ***** 
 
 But beneath, the Evil Spirits, 
 Lay in ambush, waiting for him, 
 Broke the treacherous ice beneath him, 
 Dragged him downward to the bottom, 
 ***** 
 
 Drowned him in the deep abysses 
 Of the lake of Gitchie Gumee. 
 From the headlands Hiawatha 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 227 
 
 Sent forth such a wail of anguish, 
 Such a fearful lamentation, 
 That the bison paused to listen, 
 And the wolves howled from the prairies. 
 * * * * # 
 
 " He is dead, the sweet musician ! 
 He the sweetest of all singers ! 
 He has gone from us forever, 
 He has moved a little nearer 
 To the Master of all music, 
 To the Master of all singing ! 
 O my brother, Chibiabos !" 
 
 And the melancholy fir trees 
 Waved their dark green fans above him, 
 Waved their purple cones above him, 
 Sighing with him to console him, 
 Mingling with his lamentation 
 Their complaining, their lamenting. 
 
 Came the spring, and all the forest 
 Looked in vain for Chibiabos; 
 Sighed the rivulet, Sebowisha, 
 Sighed the rushes in the meadow. 
 
 From the tree-tops sang the bluebird, 
 Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
 " Chibiabos ! Chibiabos ! 
 He is dead the sweet musician !" 
 
 From the wigwam sang the robin, 
 Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
 "Chibiabos! Chibiabos! 
 He is dead, the sweetest singer ! " 
 
 And at night through all the forest 
 Went the whippoorwill complaining, 
 Wailing went the Wawanaissa, 
 "Chibiabos! Chibiabos! 
 He is dead, the sweet musician ! 
 He the sweetest of all singers ! " 
 
 PAU-PUK-KEEWIS. 
 
 Then departed Pau-Puk-Keewis 
 Whistling, singing through the forest, 
 Whistling gayly to the squirrels, 
 Who from hollow boughs above him 
 Dropped their acorn shells upon him, 
 Singing gayly to the wood-birds, 
 Who from out the leafy darkness 
 Answered with a song as merry. 
 
 Saw the form of Pau-Puk-Keewis 
 Glide into the soft blue shadow 
 Of the pine trees of the forest; 
 Toward the squares of white beyond it, 
 Toward an opening in the forest, 
 Like a wind it rushed and panted, 
 Bending all the boughs before it, 
 And behind it, as the rain comes, 
 Came the steps of Hiawatha. 
 
 ***** 
 
 And so near he came, so near him, 
 That his hand was stretched to seize him, 
 His right hand to seize and hold him, 
 When the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis 
 Whirled and spun about in circles, 
 Fanned the air into a whirlwind, 
 Danced the dust and leaves about him, 
 And amid the whirling eddies 
 Sprang into a hollow oak tree, 
 Changed himself into a serpent, 
 Gliding out through root and rubbish. 
 
 With his right hand Hiawatha 
 Smote amain the hollow oak tree, 
 Rent it into shreds and splinters, 
 Left it lying there in fragments. 
 But in vain; for Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
 Once again in human figure, 
 Full in sight ran on before him, 
 Sped away in gust and whirlwind. 
 
 THE DEATH OF KWASIND. 
 
 Now this wondrous strength of Kwasind 
 In his crown alone was seated; 
 In his crown too was his weakness; 
 There alone could he be wounded, 
 Nowhere else could weapon pierce him, 
 Nowhere else could weapon harm him. 
 
 Even there the only weapon 
 That could wound him, that could slay him, 
 Was the seed-cone of the pine-tree, 
 Was the blue-cone of the fir tree. 
 This was Kwasind's fatal secret, 
 Known to no man among mortals; 
 But the cunning Little People, 
 The Puk-Wudjies, knew the secret, 
 Knew the only way to kill him. 
 
 THE HUNTING OF PAU-PUK-KEEWIS. 
 
 But the wary Hiawatha 
 the figure ere it vanished, 
 
 At the first blow of their war clubs, 
 Fell a drowsiness on Kwasind; 
 At the second blow they smote him, 
 
228 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Motionless his paddle rested; 
 At the third, before his vision 
 Reeled the landscape into darkness, 
 Very sound asleep was Kwasind. 
 So he floated down the river, 
 Like a blind man seated upright, 
 Floated down the Taquamenaw, 
 Underneath the trembling birch trees, 
 Underneath the wooded headlands, 
 Underneath the war encampment 
 Of the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjies. 
 
 There they stood, all armed and wait- 
 ing 
 Hurled the pine-cones down upon him, 
 Struck him on his brawny shoulders, 
 On his crown defenseless struck him. 
 •' Death to Kwasind ! " was the sudden 
 War-cry of the Little People. 
 
 And he sideways swayed and tumbled 
 Sideways fell into the river; 
 Plunged beneath the sluggish water 
 Headlong as an otter plunges; 
 And the birch canoe, abandoned, 
 Drifted empty down the river, 
 Bottom upward swerved and drifted: 
 Nothing more was seen of Kwasind. 
 
 But the memory of the Strong Man 
 Lingered long among the people, 
 And whenever through the forest 
 Raged and roared the wintry tempest, 
 And the branches, tossed and troubled, 
 Creaked and groaned and split asunder, 
 " Kwasind!" cried they; " that is Kwasind 
 He is gathering in his fire-wood ! " 
 
 THE GHOSTS. 
 
 Not a motion made Nokomis, 
 
 Not a gesture Laughing Water; 
 
 Not a change came o'er their features; 
 
 Only Minnehaha softly 
 
 Whispered, saying, " They are famished; 
 
 Let them do what best delights them; 
 
 Let them eat, for they are famished." 
 
 Many a daylight dawned and dark- 
 ened, 
 Many a night shook off the daylight 
 As the pine shakes off the snowflakes 
 From the midnight of its branches; 
 Day by day the guests unmoving 
 Sat there silent in the wigwam; 
 But by night, in storm or starlight, 
 
 Forth they went into the forest, 
 Bringing fire-wood to the wigwam, 
 Bringing pine-cones for the burning, 
 Always sad and always silent. 
 
 THE FAMINE. 
 
 Forth into the empty forest 
 
 Rushed the maddened Hiawatha; 
 
 In his heart was deadly sorrow, 
 
 In his face a stony firmness; 
 
 On his brow the sweat of anguish 
 
 Started, but it froze and fell not. 
 
 Wrapped in furs and armed for hunting, 
 
 With his mighty bow of ash tree, 
 
 With his quiver full of arrows, 
 
 With his mittens, Miniekahwun, 
 
 Into the vast and vacant forest 
 , On his snow-shoes strode he forward. 
 " Gitche Manito, the Mighty!" 
 
 Cried he with his face uplifted 
 
 In that bitter hour of anguish, 
 
 " Give your children food, O father! 
 
 Give us food, or we must perish! 
 
 Give me food for Minnehaha, 
 
 For my dying Minnehaha! " 
 
 Through the far resounding forest, 
 
 Through the forest vast and vacant 
 
 Rang that cry of desolation, 
 
 But there came no other answer 
 
 Than the echo of his crying, 
 
 Than the echo of the woodlands, 
 ! "Minnehaha! Minnehaha!" 
 
 DEATH OF MINNEHAHA. 
 
 In the wigwam with Nokomis, 
 With those gloomy guests, that watched her, 
 With the Famine and the Fever, 
 She was lying, the Beloved, 
 She the dying Minnehaha. 
 
 " Hark ! " she said ; " I hear a rushing,, 
 
 Hear a roaring and a rushing, 
 
 Hear the Falls of Minnehaha 
 
 Calling to me from a distance! " 
 
 "No, my child!" said old Nokomis, 
 
 " 'Tis the night-wind in the pine trees! " 
 ***** 
 
 Homeward hurried Hiawatha, 
 ***** 
 
 And he rushed into the wigwam, 
 Saw the old Nokomis slowly 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 229 
 
 Rocking to and fro and moaning, 
 
 Saw his lovely Minnehaha 
 
 Lying dead and cold before him, 
 
 And his bursting heart within him 
 
 Uttered such a cry of anguish, 
 
 That the forest mDaned and shuddered, 
 
 That the very stars in heaven 
 
 Shook and trembled with his anguish. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Then the)' buried Minnehaha; 
 In the show a grave the)- made her, 
 In the forest deep and darksome, 
 Underneath the moaning hemlocks; 
 Clothed her in her richest garments, 
 Wrapped her in her robes of ermine, 
 Covered her with snow, like ermine; 
 Thus they buried Minnehaha. 
 
 WHITE MAN'S FOOT. 
 
 In bis lodge beside a river, 
 Close beside a frozen river, 
 Sat an old man, sad and lonely. 
 
 ***** 
 
 All the coals were white with ashes, 
 And the fire was slowly dying, 
 As a young man, walking lightly, 
 At the open doorway entered. 
 Red with blood of youth his cheeks were, 
 Soft his eyes, as stars in Spring-time, 
 Bound his forehead was with grasses, 
 Bound and plumed with scented grasses! 
 On his lips a smile of beauty, 
 Filling all the lodge with sunshine, 
 In his hand a bunch of blossoms 
 Filling all the lodge with sweetness. 
 ***** 
 
 From his pouch he drew his peace-pipe, 
 Very old and strangely fashioned; 
 Made of red stone was the pipe-head, 
 And the stem a reed with feathers; 
 Filled the pipe with bark of willow, 
 Placed a burning coal upon it, 
 Gave it to his guest, the stranger, 
 And began to speak in this wise: 
 
 " When I blow my breath about me, 
 When I breathe upon the landscape, 
 Motionless are all the rivers, 
 Hard as stone becomes the water!" 
 
 And the young man answered, smiling 
 
 " When I blow my breath about me, 
 When I breathe upon the landscape, 
 Flowers spring up o'er all the meadows, 
 Singing, onward rush the rivers!" 
 
 " When I shake my hoary tresses," 
 Said the old man, darkly frowning, 
 " All the land with snow is covered; 
 All the leaves from all the branches 
 Fall and fade and die and wither, 
 For I breathe, and lo! they are not. 
 From the waters and the marshes 
 Rise the wild goose and the heron, 
 Fly away to distant regions, 
 For I speak, and lo! they are not. 
 And where'er my footsteps wander, 
 All the wild beasts of the forest 
 Hide themselves in holes and caverns, 
 And the earth becomes as flintstone! " 
 
 " When I shake my flowing ringlets," 
 Said the young man, softly laughing, 
 " Showers of rain fall warm and welcome, 
 Plants lift up their heads rejoicing, 
 Back unto their lakes and marshes 
 Come the wild goose and the heron, 
 Homeward shoots the arrowy swallow, 
 Sing the bluebird and the robin, 
 And where'er my footsteps wander, 
 All the meadows wave with blossoms, 
 All the woodlands ring with music, 
 All the trees are dark with foliage! " 
 
 Then the old man's tongue was speechless 
 And the air grew warm and pleasant, 
 And upon the wigwam sweetly 
 Sang the bluebird and the robin, 
 And the stream began to murmur, 
 And a scent of growing grasses 
 Through the lodge was gently wafted. 
 
 And Segwun, the youthful stranger 
 More distinctly in the daylight 
 Saw the icy face before him; 
 It was Peboan, the Winter! 
 
 From his eyes the tears were flowing, 
 As from melting lakes the streamlets, 
 And his body shrunk and dwindled 
 As the shouting sun ascended, 
 Till into the air it faded, 
 Till into the ground it vanished, 
 And the young man saw before him, 
 On the hearth-stone of the wigwam, 
 
230 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Where the fire had smoked and smouldered, 
 Saw t the earliest flower of Spring-time. 
 ***** 
 
 Thus it was that in the North-land 
 After that unheard-of coldness, 
 That intolerable Winter, 
 Came the Spring with all its splendor, 
 All its birds and all its blossoms, 
 All its flowers and leaves and grasses. 
 
 "Gitche Manito the Mighty, 
 The Great Spirit, the Creator, 
 Sends them hither on his errand, 
 Sends them to us with his message. 
 Whereso'er they move, before them 
 Swarms the stinging-fly, the Ahmo. 
 Swarms the bee, the honey-maker; 
 
 Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them 
 Springs a flower unknown among us, 
 Spring the White-man's Foot in blossom. 
 
 FAREWELL TO HIAWATHA. 
 
 And they said. " Farewell forever!" 
 Said, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
 And the forests, dark and lonely, 
 Moved through all their depths of darkness, 
 Sighed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
 And the waves upon the margin 
 Rising, rippling on the pebbles, 
 Sobbed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
 And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
 From her haunts among the fen-lands, 
 Screamed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 THE VIOLET. 
 
 VIOLET! sweet violet! 
 Thine eyes are full of tears; 
 Are the}' wet 
 Even yet 
 With the thought of other years? 
 Or with gladness are they full, 
 For the night so beautiful, 
 And longing for those far-off spheres ? 
 
 Out on it! no foolish pining 
 
 For the sky 
 
 Dims thine eye, 
 Or for the stars so calmly shining; 
 Like thee let this soul of mine 
 Take hue from that wherefor I long, 
 Self-stayed and high, serene and strong, 
 Not satisfied with hoping — but divine. 
 
 Thy little heart, that hath with love 
 Grown colored like the sky above, 
 On which thou lookest ever, — 
 
 Can it know 
 
 All the woe 
 Of hope for what returneth never, 
 All the sorrow and the longing 
 To these hearts of ours belonging ? 
 
 Violet! dear violet! 
 Thy blue eyes are only wet 
 With joy and love of Him who sent thee, 
 And for the fulfilling sense 
 Of that glad obedience 
 Which made thee all that Nature meant 
 thee. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 THE FIR TREE. 
 
 HARK, hark! What does the Fir tree say? Creak, creak! Listen! " Be firm, be true, 
 Standing still all night, all day — The winter's frost and the summer's dew 
 
 Never a moan from over his way. Are all in God's time, and all for you. 
 
 Green through all the winter's gray — Only live your life, and your duty do, 
 
 What does the steadfast Fir tree say ? And be brave, and strong, steadfast and true." 
 Chautauquan, March, 1884. Luella Clark. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2 ^ I 
 
 Written for the "Ardor Day Manual." 
 
 A HOME BY THE WARM SOUTHERN SEA.* 
 
 OH, give me a home by the warm Southern sea ! 
 Where the playful waves bring a kind respite to me, 
 And from New Year's till March the jessamine bloom 
 Fills the eye with its beauty, and the air with perfume; 
 While I almost can hear the tinkle and swell 
 Of the dear little yellow jessamine bell, 
 As it swings on its vine from the top of a tree, 
 And exultantly shakes its bright petals at me. 
 
 Oh, give me a home by the warm Southern sea ! 
 Where the Cherokee rose climbs the palmetto tree, 
 And sweetly peeps forth through perennial green 
 Bedecking the months 'twixt the fair jessamine 
 And the magnolia grand, the queen of the May, 
 The tree of the Southland, the pride of the day, 
 The fountain of odors which scatter and fill 
 The fair summer flowers, and sweet daffodil. 
 
 Oh, give me a home by the warm Southern sea ! 
 Where the jubilant sunbeams dance o'er the lea, 
 Where with oars idly dropped, I float with the tides, 
 Or rest in wild hammocks which nature provides; 
 While vines, creeping vines, come forth in an hour, 
 And noiselessly twine me a summerland bower ; 
 Then opening soft eyes, speaking love and good will, 
 They twine and keep twining unweariedly still. 
 
 Oh, give me a home by the warm Southern sea ! 
 Where lilies hang drooping from shrub and from tree. 
 Where fruits in all seasons hang luscious and rare, 
 Where from May to December the soft, balmy air 
 Brings a lazy delight to my soul as I lie 
 And list to the mocking-bird's twitter and cry ; 
 Till catching a glimpse of the gay holly tree 
 As it shakes its bright berries in radiant glee, 
 I am minded that Christmas, glad Christmas is near, 
 And that I have been dreaming for nearly a year. 
 St Augustine, Fla. Mrs. B. C. Rude. 
 
 No tree in all the grove but has its charms 
 
 Though each its hue peculiar. Cowper. 
 
 *Editor Arbor Day Manual — Please accept this little offering as a kindly link in the great chain of 
 earnest effort which now connects the educational interests of the two halves of our one vast whole— our 
 Union. • The Author. 
 
212 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 AL FRESCO. 
 
 THE dandelions and buttercups 
 Gild all the lawn; the drowsy bee 
 Stumbles among the clover tops, 
 And summer sweetens all but me: 
 Away, unfruitful lore of books, 
 For whose vain idiom we reject 
 The soul's more native dialect, 
 Aliens among the birds and brooks, 
 Dull to interpret or conceive 
 What gospels lost the woods retrieve ! 
 Away, ye critics, city-bred, 
 Who set man-traps of thus and so. 
 And in the first man's footsteps tread, 
 Like those who toil through drifted snow ! 
 Away, my poets, whose sweet spell 
 Can make a garden of a cell 
 I need ye not, for I to-day 
 Will make one long sweet verse of play. 
 
 Snap, chord of manhood's tenser strain 
 To-dav I will be a boy again; 
 The mind's pursuing element, 
 Like a bow slackened and unbent, 
 In some dark corner shall be leant. 
 The robin sings, as of old, from the limb ! 
 The cat-bird croons in the lilac bush 
 Through the dim arbor, himself more dim. 
 Silently hops the hermit-thrush, 
 The withered leaves keep dumb for him; 
 The irreverent buccaneering bee 
 Hath stormed and rifled the nunnery 
 Of the lily, and scattered the sacred floor 
 With haste-dropt gold from shrine to door; 
 There, as of yore, 
 The rich, milk-tingeing buttercup 
 Its tiny polished urn holds up, 
 Filled with ripe summer to the edge, 
 The sun in his own wine to pledge; 
 And our tall elm, this hundredth year 
 Doge of our leafy Venice here, 
 
 Who, with an annual ring, doth wed 
 The blue Adriatic overhead. 
 Shadows with his palatial mass 
 The deep canals of flowing grass. 
 
 O unestranged birds and bees ! 
 O face of nature always true ! 
 O never-unsympathizing trees ! 
 
 never-rejecting roof of blue, 
 Whose rash disherison never falrfe 
 On us unthinking prodigals, 
 
 Yet who convictest all our ills, 
 So grand and unappeasable ! 
 Methinks my heart from each of these 
 Plucks part of childhood back again, 
 Long there imprisoned, as the breeze 
 Doth ever}' hidden odor seize 
 Of wood and water, hill and plain; 
 Once more am I admitted peer 
 ! In the upper house of nature here, 
 And feel through all nry pulses run 
 The royal blood of breeze and sun. 
 
 Upon these elm-arched solitudes 
 No hum of neighbor toil intrudes; 
 The only hammer that I hear 
 Is wielded by the woodpecker. 
 The single noisy calling his 
 In all our leaf-hid Sybaris; 
 The good old time, close-hidden here, 
 Persists, a loyal cavalier, 
 While Roundheads prim, with point of fox, 
 Probe wainscot-chink and empty box; 
 Here no hoarse-voice iconoclast 
 Insults thy statues, royal Past; 
 M3'self too prone the axe to wield, 
 
 1 touch the silver side of the shield 
 
 With lance reversed, and challenge peace, 
 A willing convert of the trees. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 
 The earth 
 Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill; 
 Jovous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs 
 Whispered it to the woods. 
 
 Milton's Paradise Lost. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 2 33 
 
 FLOWERS OF THE MAY. 
 
 A CALLER ! Who is it ? "In nosegays you've bound them; 
 
 To make me a visit, I'll guess where you found them: 
 
 Here comes little Milly ! ■ These buds on the bough 
 
 How are vou to-day? Of the apple tree grew; 
 
 And, pray, let me ask it, And under the shadow 
 
 What is in your basket ? Of ferns in the meadow 
 
 Ah ! now I can see; You gathered these violets, 
 
 It is flowers of the May. Tender and blue. 
 
 " Your flower-bed, I fancy, 
 Has given this pansy; 
 
 And close by the road 
 Grew these buttercups wild. 
 O, flowers of the Ma)', love, 
 Are sweet in their way, love; 
 
 But sweeter by far 
 Is a good little child. " 
 
 SUNSHINE. 
 
 T 
 
 HE fitful April sunshine She makes the lowliest hovels, 
 
 Is welcome after rain; Like palaces of gold, 
 
 She fills the earth with beauty, Her hands are full of blessings, 
 And lights it up again; More full than they can held: 
 
 Her golden wand uplifted There's not a person sees her, 
 Sends raindrops scattering far, But brighter grows his face, 
 
 And flowers spring to greet her, There is no guest so cheery 
 Each shining like a star. In every gloomy place. 
 
 There is a serene and settled majesty in wood land scenery that enters into 
 the soul, and delights and elevates it, and fills it with noble inclinations. 
 
 As the leaves of trees are said to absorb all noxious qualities of the air 
 and to breathe forth a purer atmosphere, so it seems to me as if they drew from 
 us all sordid and angry passions, and breathe forth peace and philanthropy. 
 
 There is something nobly simple and pure in a taste for the cultivation of 
 forest trees. It argues, I think, a sweet and generous nature to have this 
 strong relish for the beauties of vegetation, and this friendship for the hardy 
 and glorious sons of the forest. There is a grandeur of thought connected with 
 this part of rural economy. It is, if I may be allowed the figure, the heroic line 
 of husbandry. It is worthy of liberal, and free-born, and aspiring men. He 
 who plants an oak, looks forward- to future ages, and plants for posterity. 
 Nothing can be less selfish than this. 
 
 Irving. 
 
234 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE FIRST FLOWERS. 
 
 FOR ages on our river borders, 
 These tassels in their tawny bloom, 
 And willowy studs of downy silver, 
 
 Have prophesied of spring to come. 
 
 But never yet from smiling river, 
 Or song of early bird, have they 
 
 Been greeted with a gladder welcome 
 Than whispers from my heart to-day. 
 
 For ages have the unbound waters The}' break the spell of cold and darkness, 
 
 Smiled on them from their pebbly hem, The weary watch of sleepless pain; 
 
 And the clear carol of the robin And from my heart as from the river, 
 
 And song of bluebird welcomed them. The ice of winter melts again. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 HYMN. 
 
 (For the American Horticultural Society, 1882.) 
 
 PAINTER of the fruits and flowers, But blest by Thee, our patient toil 
 We own Thy wise design, May right the ancient wrong, 
 
 Whereby these human hands of ours And give to every clime and soil 
 May share the work of Thine ! The beauty lost so long. 
 
 Apart from Thee we plant in vain 
 The root and sow the seed; 
 
 Thy early and Thy later rain, 
 Thy sun and dew we need. 
 
 Our toil is sweet with thankfulness, 
 
 Our burden is our boon; 
 The curse of earth's gray morning is 
 
 The blessing of its noon. 
 
 Why search the wide world everywhere 
 For Eden's unknown ground ? 
 
 That garden of the primal pair 
 May nevermore be found. 
 
 Our homestead flowers and fruited trees 
 
 May Eden's orchard shame; 
 We taste the tempting sweets of these 
 Like Eve, without her blame. 
 
 And, north and south and east and west 
 
 The pride of every zone, 
 The fairest, rarest and the best 
 
 May all be made our own. 
 
 Its earliest shrines the young world sought- 
 In hill-groves and in bowers, 
 
 The fittest offerings thither brought 
 Were Thy own fruits and flowers. 
 
 And still with reverent hands we cull 
 Thy gifts each year renewed; 
 
 The good is always beautiful. 
 The beautiful is good. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 There never yet was flower fair in vain, 
 
 Let classic poets rhyme it as they will; 
 
 The seasons toil that it may blow again, 
 
 And summer's heart doth feel its every ill. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL 
 
 235 
 
 LINES. 
 
 (For the Agricultural and Horticultural Exhibition at Amesbury and Salisbury, Sept. 28, 1858.) 
 
 THIS day, two hundred years ago, 
 The wild grape by the river's side, 
 And tasteless groundnut trailing low, 
 The table of the woods supplied. 
 
 Unknown the apple's red and gold, 
 
 The blushing tint of peach and pear; 
 
 The mirror of the Powow told 
 
 No tale of orchards ripe and rare. 
 
 Wild as the fruits he scorned to till, 
 These vales the idle Indian trod; 
 
 Nor knew the glad creative skill, 
 
 The joy of him who toils with God. 
 
 O painter of the fruits and flowers ! 
 
 We thank thee for Thy wise design 
 Whereby these human hands of ours 
 
 In nature's garden work with Thine. 
 
 And thanks that from our daily need 
 The joy of simple faith is born; 
 
 That he who smites the summer weed, 
 May trust Thee for the autumn corn. 
 
 Give fools their gold and knaves their power . 
 
 Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; 
 Who sows a field or trains a flower, 
 
 Or plants a tree is more than all. 
 
 For he who blesses most is blest; 
 
 And God and man shall own his worth 
 Who toils to leave as his bequest 
 
 An added beauty to the earth. 
 
 And, soon or late, to all that sow, 
 
 The time of harvest shall be given; 
 
 The flower shall bloom, the fruit shall grow. 
 If not on earth, at last in heaven. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 THE OAKS. 
 
 HA ! ha ! we've stemm'd the stream, 
 A thousand years along 
 Thy stormy course, O time ! 
 Sometimes in lightning's gleam, 
 And the water's rousing song, 
 And thunder crash sublime. 
 From memory long have faded, 
 The nations of our childhood, 
 And all the works of man, 
 In dust have laid, while we, 
 Exulting toss our crown, 
 Of branches, hale and free. 
 We've seen the gentle child at play, 
 The maiden fair, the lover gay, 
 And oft they sought, at evening hour, 
 Our cool, leafy bower. 
 
 And conq'ring armies, on their way, 
 
 Have paused beneath the arches gray; 
 
 And age, with slow and faltering tread, 
 
 Hath sought and blest the peaceful shade; 
 
 O, many an army o.i its way, 
 
 Hath paused beneath our arches gray. 
 
 And aye, with slow and faltering tread, 
 
 Hath sought, hath blest the grateful shade; 
 
 Then let the world roll, 
 
 No power shall control 
 
 Our song of a thousand years, 
 
 We'll join when wintry tempests blow, 
 
 And generations yet shall know 
 
 The mighty song, amid thy stormy course, 
 
 O time, our mighty song. 
 
 J. C. Johnson. 
 
 Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, 
 A sylvan scene ! and as the ranks ascend, 
 Shade above shade, a woody theatre 
 Of stateliest view. 
 
 Milton. 
 
2^6 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE BLUSHING MAPLE TREE. 
 
 WHEN on the world's first harvest da)', 
 The forest trees before the Lord 
 Laid down their autumn offerings 
 
 Of fruit in sunshine stored, 
 The maple only, of them all, 
 
 Before the world's great harvest King, 
 With empty hands and silent stood — 
 
 She had no offering to bring; 
 For in the early summer time, 
 
 While other trees laid by their hoard, 
 The maple winged her fruit with love, 
 
 And sent it daily to the Lord. 
 
 There ran through all the leafy wood 
 
 A murmur and a scornful smile, 
 But silent still the maple stood, 
 
 And looked to God the while. 
 And then, while fell on earth a hush, 
 
 So great it seemed like death to be, 
 From His white throne the mighty Lord 
 
 Stooped down and kissed the maple tree; 
 At that swift kiss there sudden thrilled, 
 
 In every nerve, thro' ever} - vein, 
 An ecstacy of joy so great 
 
 It seemed almost akin to pain. 
 
 A^id there before the forest trees, 
 
 Blushing and pale by turns she stood; 
 In ev'ry leaf, now red and gold, 
 
 She knew the kiss of God. 
 And still, when comes the autumn time, 
 
 And on the hills the harvest lies, 
 Blushing, the maple tree recalls 
 
 Her life's one beautiful surprise. 
 
 A DREAM OF SUMMER. 
 
 BLAND as the morning breath of June, 
 The south-west breezes play; 
 And, through its haze, the winter noon 
 
 Seems warm as summer's day. 
 The snow-plumed angel of the north 
 
 Has dropped his icy spear; 
 Again the messy earth looks forth, 
 Again the streams gush clear. 
 
 So, in those winters of the soul, 
 
 By bitter blasts and drear, 
 O'erswept from memory's frozen pole, 
 
 Will sunny days appear. 
 Reviving hope and faith, they show 
 
 The soul its living powers, 
 And how beneath the winter's snow 
 
 Lie germs of summer flowers ! 
 
 The fox his hillside cell forsakes, 
 The muskrat leaves his nook, 
 The bluebird in the meadow brakes 
 Is singing with the brook. 
 : Bear up, O Mother Nature ! " cry 
 
 Bird, breeze, and streamlet free; 
 1 Our winter voices prophesy 
 
 Of summer days to thee ! " 
 
 The night is mother of the day, 
 
 The winter of the spring. 
 And ever upon old decay 
 
 The greenest mosses cling. 
 Behind the cloud the starlight lurks, 
 
 Through showers the sunbeams fall; 
 For God, who loveth all His works, 
 
 Has left His hope with all. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 M 
 
 AN INVITATION TO THE COUNTRY. 
 
 ALREADY, close by our summer dwelling, 
 The Easter sparrow repeats her song ; 
 A merry warbler, she chides the blossoms — 
 The idle blossoms that sleep so long. 
 
 The bluebird chants, from the elm's long branches, 
 
 A hymn to welcome the budding year. 
 The south wind wanders from field to forest, 
 
 And softly whispers, "The spring is here." 
 Come, daughter mine, from the gloomy city, 
 
 Before those lays from the elm have ceased ; 
 The violet breathes, bjr our door, as sweetly 
 
 As in the air of her native east. 
 
 Though many a flower in the wood is waking, 
 The daffodil is our doorside queen; 
 
 She pushes upward the sward already, 
 
 To spot with sunshine the early green. 
 
 No lays so joyous as these are warbled 
 
 From wiry prison in maiden's bower; 
 No pampered bloom of the green-house chamber 
 
 Has half the charm of the lawn's first flower. 
 Yet these sweet sounds of the early season, 
 
 And these fair sights of its sunny days, 
 Are only sweet when we fondly listen, 
 
 And only fair when we fondly gaze. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 THE TREE. 
 
 1 love thee when thy swelling buds appear, 
 
 And one by one their tender leaves unfold, 
 
 As if they knew that warmer suns were near, 
 
 Nor longer sought to hide from winter's cold ; 
 
 And when with darker growth thy leaves are seen 
 
 To veil from view the early robin's nest, 
 
 I love to lie beneath thy waving screen, 
 
 With limbs by summer's heat and toil oppress'd; 
 
 And when the autumn winds have stript thee bare, 
 
 And round thee lies the smooth, untrodden snow, 
 
 When naught is thine that made thee once so fair, 
 
 I love to watch thy shadowy form below, 
 
 And through thy leafless arms to look above 
 
 On stars that brighter beam when most we need their love. 
 
 Jones Very. 
 
238 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 w 
 
 UNDER THE OLD ELM. 
 
 r ORDS pass as wind, but when great deeds were done 
 A power abides transfused from sire to son ; 
 The boy feels deeper meanings thrill his ear, 
 That tingling through his pulse life-long shall run, 
 With sure impulsion to keep honor clear, 
 When, pointing down, his father whispers, '' Here, 
 Here, where we stand, stood he, the purely Great, 
 Whose soul no siren passion could unsphere, 
 Then nameless, now a power and mixed with fate." 
 Historic town, thou holdest sacred dust, 
 Once known to men as pious, learned, just, 
 And one memorial pile that dares to last ; 
 But Memory greets with reverential kiss 
 No spot in all thy circuit sweet as this, 
 Touched by that modest glory as it past, 
 O'er which yon elm hath piously displayed 
 These hundred years its monumental shade. 
 
 Of our swift passage through this scenery 
 
 Of life and death, more durable than we, 
 
 What landmark so congenial as a tree 
 
 Repeating its green legend every spring, 
 
 And, with a yearly ring, 
 
 Recording the fair seasons as they flee, 
 
 Type of our brief but still-renewed mortality? 
 
 Beneath our consecrated elm 
 
 A century ago he stood, 
 
 Famed vaguely for that old fight in the wopd 
 
 Whose red surge sought, but could not overwhelm 
 
 The life fore-doomed to wield our rough-hewn helm ! — 
 
 From colleges, where now the gown 
 
 To arms hath yielded, from the town, 
 
 Our rude self-summoned levies flocked to see 
 
 The new-come chiefs and wonder which was he. 
 
 No need to question long ; close-lipped and tall, 
 
 Long-trained in murder-brooding forests lone 
 
 To bridle other's clamors and his own, 
 
 Firmly erect, he towered above them all, 
 
 The incarnate discipline that was to free 
 
 With iron curb that armed democracy. 
 
 Lowell's Cambridge Elm. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 239 
 
 APRIL. 
 
 "TMS the noon of the spring-time, yet never a bird 
 1 In the wind-shaken elm or the maple is heard ; 
 For green-meadow grasses wide levels of snow, 
 And blowing of drifts where the crocus should blow; 
 Where wind-flower and violet, amber and white, 
 On south-sloping brooksides should smile in the light, 
 O'er the cold winter-beds of their late-waking roots 
 The frosty flake eddies, the ice-crystal shoots ; 
 And, longing for light, under wind-driven heaps, 
 Round the boles of the pine wood the ground-laurel creeps, 
 Unkissed of the sunshine, unbaptized of showers, 
 With buds scarcely swelled, which should burst into flowers ! 
 We wait for thy coming, sweet wind of the south ! 
 For the touch of thy light wings, the kiss of thy mouth ; 
 For the yearly evangel thou bearest from God, 
 Resurrection and life to the graves of the sod ! 
 Up our long river-valley, for days, have not ceased 
 The wail and the shriek of the bitter north-east, — 
 Raw and chill, as if winnowed through ices and snow, 
 All the way from the land of the wild Esquimau, — 
 Until all our dreams of the land of the blest 
 Like that red hunter's, turn to the sunny south-west. 
 O soul of the spring-time, its light and its breath, 
 Bring warmth to this coldness, bring life to this death ; 
 Renew the great miracle; let us behold 
 The stone from the mouth of the sepulchre rolled, 
 And Nature, like Lazarus, rise, as of old ! 
 Let our faith, which in darkness and coldness has lain, 
 Revive with the warmth and the brightness again, 
 And in blooming of flowers and budding of tree 
 The symbols and types of our destiny see ; 
 The life of the spring-time, the life of the whole, 
 And, as sun to the sleeping earth, love to the soul ! 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 I thank heaven every summer's day of my life that my lot was humbly cast 
 within the hearing of romping brooks, and beneath the shadow of oaks, and 
 away from all the tramp and bustle of the world, into which fortune has led me in 
 these latter years of my life. I delight to steal away for days and for weeks to- 
 gether, and bathe my spirit in the freedom of the old woods, and to grow young 
 again lying upon the brookside, and counting the white clouds that sail along 
 the sky, softly and tranquilly, even as holy memories go stealing over the vault 
 of life. Donald G. Mitchell. 
 
240 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE GLADNESS OF NATURE. 
 
 IS this a time to be cloudy and sad. 
 When our mother nature laughs around; 
 When even the deep blue heavens look glad, 
 
 And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground? 
 
 There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, 
 And the gossip of swallows through all the sky; 
 
 The ground squirrel gayly chirps by his den, 
 And the wilding bee hums merrily by. 
 
 The clouds are at play in the azure space 
 
 And their shadows at play on the bright green vale. 
 And here they stretch to the frolic chase, 
 
 And there they roll on the easy gale. 
 
 There's a dance of leaves in that aspen bower, 
 There's a titter of winds in that beechen tree, 
 
 There's a smile on the fruit, and a smile on the flower, 
 And a laugh from the brook that runs to the sea. 
 
 And look at the broad-faced sun, how he smiles 
 On the dewy earth that smiles in his ray, 
 
 On the leaping waters and gay young isles ; 
 Ay, look, and he'll smile the gloom away. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 'Tis sweet, in the green spring, 
 To gaze upon the wakening fields around ; 
 
 Birds in the thicket sing. 
 Winds whisper, waters prattle from the ground. 
 
 A thousand odors rise, 
 Breathed up from blossoms of a thousand dyes. 
 
 Shadowy, and close and cool, 
 The pine and poplar keep their quiet nook ; 
 
 Forever fresh and full, 
 Shines, at their feet, the thirst-inviting brook; 
 
 And the soft herbage seems 
 Spread for a place of banquets and of dreams. 
 
 From the Spanish of Villegas. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 24 1 
 
 M 
 
 UNDER THE WILLOWS. 
 
 AY is a pious fraud of the almanac, 
 A ghastly parody of real spring 
 Shaped out of snow and breathed with eastern wind ; 
 Or if, o'er-confident, she trust the date, 
 And, with her handful of anemones, 
 Herself as shiver)', steal into the sun, 
 The season need but turn his hour-glass round, 
 And winter suddenly, like crazy Lear, 
 Reels back, and brings the dead May in his arms, 
 Her budding breasts and wan dislustred front 
 With frosty streaks and drifts of his white beard 
 All overblown. Then warmly walled with books, 
 While my wood fire supplies the sun's defect, 
 Whispering old forest-sagas in its dreams, 
 I take my May down from the happy shelf 
 Where perch the world's rare song-birds in a row, 
 Waiting my choice to open with full breast, 
 And beg an alms of spring-time, ne'er denied 
 Indoors by vernal Chaucer, whose fresh woods 
 Throb thick with merle and mavis all the year. 
 
 Jul)' breathes hot, sallows the crispy fields, 
 Curls up the wan leaves of the lilac-hedge, 
 And every eve cheats us with show of clouds 
 That braze the horizon's western rim, or hang 
 Motionless, with heaped canvas drooping idly, 
 Like a dim fleet by starving men besieged, 
 Conjectured half, and half described afar, 
 Helpless of wind, and seeming to slip back 
 Adown the smooth curve of the oil)'' sea. 
 
 But June is full of invitations sweet, 
 
 Forth from the chimney's yawn and thrice-read tomes 
 
 To leisurely delights and sauntering thoughts 
 
 That brook no ceiling narrower than the blue. 
 
 The cherry, drest for bridal, at my pane 
 
 Brushes, then listens, Will he come ? 
 
 The bee, 
 All dusty as a miller, takes his toll 
 Of powdery gold and grumbles. What a day 
 To sun me and do nothing! Nay, I think 
 Merely to bask and ripen is sometimes 
 The student's wiser business ; the brain 
 That forages all climes to line its cells, 
 16 
 
242 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Ranging both worlds on lightest wings of wish, 
 Will not distill the juices it has sucked 
 To the sweet substance of pellucid thought, 
 Except for him who hath the secret learned 
 To mix his blood with sunshine, and to take 
 The winds into his pulses. Hush ! 'tis he ! 
 My oriole, my glance of summer fire, 
 Is come at last, and, ever on the watch, 
 Twitches the pack-thread I had lightly wound 
 About the bough to help his housekeeping, — 
 Twitches and scouts by turns, blessing his luck, 
 Yet fearing me who laid it in his way, 
 Nor, more than wiser we in our affairs, 
 Divines the providence, that hides and helps. 
 Heave, ho ! Heave, ho ! he whistles as the twine 
 Slackens its hold ; once more, now ! and a flash 
 Lightens across the sunlight to the elm 
 Where his mate dangles at her cup of felt. 
 Nor all his booty is the thread ; he trails 
 My loosened thought with it along the air, 
 And I must follow, would I ever find 
 The inward rhyme to all this wealth of life. 
 
 ****** 
 
 I care not how men trace their ancestry, 
 To ape or Adam ; let them please their whim ; 
 But I in June are midway to believe 
 A tree among my far progenitors, 
 Such sympathy is mine with all the race, 
 Such mutual recognition vaguely sweet 
 There is between us. Surely there are times 
 When they consent to own me of their kin, 
 And condescend to me, and call me cousin, 
 Murmuring faint lullabies of eldest time, 
 Forgotten, and yet dumbly felt with thrills 
 Moving the lips, though fruitless of the words. 
 
 And I have many a lifelong leafy friend, 
 Never estranged nor careful of my soul, 
 That knows I hate the axe, and welcomes me 
 Within his tent as if I were a bird. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Among them one, an ancient willow, spreads 
 Eight balanced limbs, springing at once all round 
 His deep-ridged trunk with upward slant diverse, 
 In outline like enormous beaker, fit 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 243 
 
 For hand of Jotun, where mid snow and mist 
 He holds unwieldy revel. 
 
 ****** 
 
 The friend of all the winds, wide-armed he towers 
 And glints his steely aglets in the sun. 
 
 ***** anc j 1 
 
 Will hold it true that in this willow dwells 
 The open-handed spirit, frank and blithe, 
 Of ancient Hospitality, long since 
 With ceremonious thrift bowed out of doors. 
 
 In June 't is good to lie beneath a tree 
 While the blithe season comforts every sense, 
 Steeps all the brain in rest, and heals the heart 
 Brimming it o'er with sweetness unawares, 
 Fragrant and silent as that rosy snow 
 Wherewith the pitying apple-tree fills up 
 And tenderly lines some last-year robin's nest. 
 ****** 
 
 Each year to ancient friendships adds a ring, 
 As to an oak, and precious more and more, 
 Without deservingness or help of ours, 
 They grow, and, silent, wider spread, each year, 
 Their unbought ring of shelter or of shade. 
 Sacred to me the lichens on the bark, 
 While Nature's milliners would scrape away; 
 Most dear, and sacred every withered limb ! 
 'T 's good to set them early, for our faith 
 Pines as we age, and, after wrinkles come, 
 Few plant, but water dead ones with vain tears. 
 
 This willow is as old to me as life ; 
 
 And under it full often have I stretched, 
 
 Feeling the warm earth like a thing alive, 
 
 And gathering virtue in at every pore 
 
 Till it possessed me wholly, and thought ceased, 
 
 Or was transfused in something to which thought 
 
 Is coarse and dull of sense. Myself was lost, 
 
 Gone from me like an ache, and what remained 
 
 Became a part of the universal joy. 
 
 My soul went forth, and, mingling with the tree, 
 
 Danced in the leaves; or floating in the cloud, 
 
 Saw its white double in the stream below. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Lowell. 
 
244 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 TO THE DANDELION. 
 
 DEAR common flower, that grow'st beside the way, 
 Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold 
 First pledge of blithesome Ma)', 
 
 Which children pluck, and, full of pride uphold, 
 High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they 
 An Eldorado in the grass have found, 
 Which not the rich earth's ample round 
 May match in wealth, thou art more dear to me 
 Than all the prouder summer-blooms may be. 
 
 Gold such as thine ne'er drew the Spanish prow 
 Through the primeval hush of Indian seas, 
 
 Nor wrinkled the lean brow 
 
 Of age, to rob the lover's heart of ease ; 
 
 Tis the Spring's largess, which she scatters now 
 
 To rich and poor alike, with lavish hand, 
 
 Though most hearts never understand 
 
 To take it at God's value, but pass by 
 
 The offered wealth with unrewarded eye. 
 
 Thou art my tropics and mine Italy ; 
 
 To look at thee unlocks a warmer clime ; 
 The eyes thou givest me 
 
 Are in the heart, and heed not space or time : 
 Not in mid June the golden-cuirassed bee 
 Feels a more summer-like warm ravishment 
 In the white lily's breezy tent, 
 His fragrant Sybaris, than I, when first 
 From the dark green thy yellow circles burst. 
 
 Then think I of deep shadows on the grass, 
 Of meadows where in sun the cattle graze, 
 
 Where, as the breezes pass, 
 
 The gleaming rushes lean a thousand ways, 
 
 Of leaves that slumber in a cloudy mass, 
 
 Or whiten in the wind, of waters blue 
 
 That from the distance sparkle through 
 
 Some woodland gap, and of a sky above, 
 
 Where one white cloud like a stray lamb doth move. 
 
 My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with thee; 
 
 The sight of thee calls back the robin's song, 
 Who, from the dark old tree 
 
 Beside the door, sang clearly all day long, 
 And I, secure in childish piety, 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 245 
 
 Listened as if I heard an angel sing 
 
 With news from heaven, which he could bring 
 
 Fresh every day to my untainted ears 
 
 When birds and flowers and I were happy peers. 
 
 How like a prodigal doth nature seem, 
 
 When thou, for all thy gold, so common art ! 
 Thou teachest me to deem 
 
 More sacredly of every human heart, 
 Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam 
 Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show, 
 
 Did we but pay the love we owe, 
 And with a child's undoubting wisdom look 
 On all these living pages of God's book. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 TREES IN THE CITY. 
 
 "T^IS beautiful to see a forest stand, 
 
 1 Brave with its moss-grown monarchs and the pride 
 Of foliage dense, to which the south wind bland 
 
 Comes with a kiss, as lover to his bride ; 
 To watch the light grow fainter, as it streams 
 
 Through arching aisles, where branches interlace, 
 Where sombre pines rise o'er the shadowy gleams 
 
 Of silver birch, trembling with modest grace. 
 
 But they who dwell beside the stream and hill 
 
 Prize little treasures there so kindly given : 
 The song of birds, the babbling of the rill, 
 
 The pure unclouded light and air of heaven. 
 They walk as those who seeing, cannot see, 
 
 Blind to this beauty even from their birth : 
 We value little blessings ever free : 
 
 We covet most the rarest things of earth. 
 
 But rising from the dust of busy streets 
 
 These forest children gladden many hearts ; 
 As some old friend their welcome presence greets 
 The toil-worn soul, and fresher life imparts. 
 Their shade is doubly grateful when it lies 
 
 Above the glare which stifling walls throw back ; 
 Through quivering leaves we see the soft blue skies, 
 Then happier tread the dull, unvaried track. 
 
 Alice B. Neal. 
 
246 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 INSCRIPTION FOR THE ENTRANCE TO A WOOD. 
 
 STRANGER, if thou hast learned a truth which needs 
 No school of long experience, that the world 
 Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen 
 Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares, 
 To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood 
 And view the haunts of nature. The calm shade 
 Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze 
 That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm 
 To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here 
 Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men, 
 And made thee loath thy life. The primal curse 
 Fell, it is true, upon the unsinning earth, 
 But not in vengeance. God hath yoked to guilt, 
 Her pale tormentor, misery. Hence, these shades 
 Are still the abodes of gladness ; the thick roof 
 Of green and stirring branches is alive • 
 And musical with birds, that sing and sport 
 In wantonness of spirit; while below 
 The squirrel, with raised paws and form erect, 
 Chirps merrily. Throngs of insects in the shade 
 Try their thin wings and dance in the warm beam 
 That waked them into life. Even the green trees 
 Partake the deep contentment ; as they bend 
 To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky 
 Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene. 
 
 * * * * * Bryant. 
 
 I sit where the leaves of the maple, 
 
 And the gnarl'd and knotted gum, 
 Are circling and drifting around me, 
 
 And think of the time to come. 
 
 For the human heart is the mirror 
 
 Of the things that are near and far ; 
 Like the wave that reflects in its bosom 
 
 The flower and the distant star. 
 
 Alice Cary, The Time to Be. 
 
 Earth's tall sons, the cedar, oak and pine, 
 Their parent's undecaying strength declare. 
 
 Sir R. Blackmore. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 247 
 
 A FOREST SCENE. 
 
 I KNOW a forest vast and old, 
 A shade so rich, so darkly green, 
 That morning sends her shaft of gold 
 In vain to pierce its leafy screen ; 
 I know a brake where sleeps the fawn, 
 
 The soft-eyed fawn, through noon's repose 
 For noon with all the calm of dawn 
 
 Lies hush'd beneath those dewy boughs. 
 
 Oh, proudly then the forest kings 
 
 Their banners lift o'er vale and mount; 
 And cool and fresh the wild grass springs, 
 
 By lonety path, by sylvan fount; 
 There, o'er the fair leaf-laden rill, 
 
 The laurel sheds her cluster'd bloom, 
 And throned upon the rock-wreathed hill 
 
 The rowan waves his scarlet plume. 
 
 Edith May. 
 
 The forest trees are transient things and frail; 
 
 (So the book told me, ere I closed the page) ; 
 Last year the willow leaves were wan and pale ; 
 
 I'll make to their last place a pilgrimage, 
 
 And changed, dead trees shall read a lesson sage 
 Of change and death. No paler than before 
 
 I found the willow leaves, nor sign of age 
 Within the woods ; immortal green they wore, 
 And the strong, mighty roots the giant trunks upbore. 
 
 Sarah S. Jacobs, The Changeless World. 
 
 'Tis merry in greenwood, thus runs the old lay. 
 In the gladsome month of lively May, 
 When the wild bird's song on stem and spray 
 
 Invites to forest bower; 
 Then rears the ash his airy crest 
 Then shines the birch in silver vest, 
 And the beech in glistening leaves is drest, 
 And dark between shows the oak's proud breast, 
 
 Like a chieftain's frowning tower. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, Harold the Dauntless. 
 
248 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 TREES OF THE BIBLE. 
 
 NO less than five of the eight zones recognized by geographers are repre- 
 sented within the limited area of Palestine. On the snow-capped peaks 
 of Lebanon, the climate approaches an Arctic severity, while the lower parts of 
 the Jordan valley experience a tropical heat. Between these extremes of tem- 
 perature we have the climates of the western coasts, the inland plains and low- 
 est hills, the higher uplands and the loftier table lands beyond Jordan. Out of 
 this strangely varied climate springs a corresponding complexity in the vege- 
 table life of the country. The paper reeds of Egypt, and the palms and 
 acacias of the desert are represented equally with the oaks, willows and junipers 
 of Europe. On the plains of the coast and the southern highlands, grow the 
 Aleppo pine, the myrtle and ilex, the gray olive, and the green arbutus, the 
 carob or locust tree, the orange and citron, the vine, the fig tree, and the 
 pomegranate. The bay and the oleaster flourish on the hills, and the streams 
 are overhung by the roseate blossoms of the oleander. On the rest of the table 
 lands, which constitute the greater part of Palestine, both east and west of the 
 Jordan, flourish pines and junipers, the terebinth, the almond, apricot, and 
 peach, the hawthorn and mountain ash, the ivy and honeysuckle, the wal- 
 nut and mulberry; oaks, poplars and willows, the majestic cedars of Lebanon, 
 the melancholy cypress, and the plane tree with its wide-spreading shade. In 
 the Jordan valley, the date palm flourished, — here grew the acacia and juniper 
 of Scripture. 
 
 The slopes of the two ranges of Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon, are terraced for 
 grain and a variety of fruit trees, ruddy orchards and groves of mulberry, the 
 characteristic tree of Lebanon, — oranges, peaches, apricots, plums, cherries 
 and almonds thrive at different elevations, according to their several ranges of 
 temperature. Here the vine and the pomegranate yield their rich products. 
 In the warmer and more sheltered spots, the palm and the olive, the fig and the 
 walnut find a congenial home ; green oaks abound higher up on the mountain 
 side, and higher still, the pine, cypress and juniper crown the successive zones 
 of vegetation with their sombre foliage. On Lebanon, such northern species 
 as the mountain ash, the box and the barberry have found a refuge, while 
 humbler plants, like the wild rose, geranium and honeysuckle, impart a pleasing 
 aspect to the scene. And beside the many " streams from Lebanon," willows 
 and poplars, the oriental plane, and the crimson oleander, with a mass of low- 
 lier vegetation, flourish as in Bible days. 
 
 Beyond Jordan, pine forests clothe the summits of the highest hills; lower 
 down, woods of evergreen oak adorn the park like scenery of ancient Gilead 
 and Bashan, and mingled with them the rich foliage of the myrtle, the arbutus, 
 and the carob or locust tree, varied with the pink and white blossoms of the 
 broom bush. 
 
 The northern portion of Lake Huleh, the Biblical " Waters of Merom," is cov- 
 ered by an immense tract of floating thickets of papyrus, and white and yellow 
 water lilies adorn the more open portions. A few palm trees grow near the end 
 of the lake, and Josepus alludes to these, and to the fact that walnuts, figs and 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 249 
 
 olives flourish in this delightful district, Oleanders fringe the sandy beach at 
 Gennesareth, and the grass is gay with flowers of every hue. 
 
 From a country thus rich in diversities of climate, elevation, and natural pro- 
 ductions, the sacred writers were led to draw their supplies of imagerv in the 
 composition of a world-wide volume which we cherish as the " Book of Books," 
 and reverence as the Word of God to Man. 
 
 Scripture Natural History. W. H, GROSER. 
 
 SCRIPTURE SELECTIONS. 
 
 MAY BE ARRANGED FOR A RESPONSIVE SERVICE. 
 
 (Words in parenthesis, Revised Version.) 
 
 genesis. XXX, 37. And Jacob took rods of green 
 
 I, 11. And God said, Let the earth bring poplar and of the hazel, and of the 
 
 forth the fruit tree, yielding fruit after chestnut tree (fresh poplar, and of the 
 
 his kind. almond, and of the plane tree). 
 
 12. And the earth brought forth the tree, XLIII, 11. Israel said, take of the best 
 
 yielding fruit who'se seed was in itself 
 after his kind. And God saw that it 
 was good. 
 29. And God said, Behold I have given 
 you every tree in which is the fruit of a 
 tree yielding seed; to you it shall be 
 for meat. 
 II, 8. And the Lord God planted a garden 
 eastward in Eden, and there He put the 
 man whom he had formed. 
 
 fruits of the land in your vessels, and 
 carry down the man a present, a little 
 balm, and a little honey, spices, and 
 myrrh, nuts and almonds. 
 
 EXODUS. 
 
 XV, 27. And they came to Elim, where 
 were twelve wells (springs) of water, 
 and three score and ten palm trees; and 
 they encamped there by the water. 
 9. And out of the ground made the XXV, 10. They shall make an ark of. 
 
 Lord God to grow every tree that is (acacia) wood. 
 
 pleasant to the sight, and good for food; 
 
 the tree of life also in the midst of the numbers. 
 
 garden, and the tree of knowledge of XXIV, 6. As gardens by the river's side, 
 
 as trees of lign aloes which the Lord 
 hath planted, and as cedar trees beside 
 the waters. 
 
 good and evil. 
 
 VI, 14. Make thee an oak of gopher-wood. 
 
 XVIII, 2, 4, 5, 8. And Abraham looked, 
 and lo ! three men stood by him and he 
 said, " Rest yourselves under the tree, 
 
 DEUTERONOMY, 
 
 and comfort ye your hearts." And he VIII, 7, 8, 9. For the Lord thy God bring- 
 
 set before them, and he stood by them 
 while they did eat. 
 
 XXI, 33. And Abraham planted a grove in 
 Beersheba, and called there on the 
 name of the Lord, the everlasting 
 God. 
 
 XXIII, 17, 18. And the field of Ephron, 
 and all the trees that were in the field, 
 that were in all the borders round about 
 were made sure unto Abraham for a 
 possession. 
 
 eth thee into a good land ; a land of 
 brooks of water, of fountains and 
 depths that spring out of valleys and 
 hills ; a land of wheat, and barley, 
 and vines, and fig trees, and pome- 
 granates ; a land of oil, olive, and 
 honey ; a land wherein thou shalt eat 
 bread without scarceness, thou shalt 
 not lack any thing in it ; a land whose 
 stones are iron, and out of whose hills 
 thou mayest dig brass. 
 
250 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 Scripture Selections- -Continued. 
 XX, 19. For the tree of the field is man's XXXVII, 35. I have seen the wicked in 
 
 great power, and spreading himself like 
 
 life. 
 
 a green bay tree. 
 36. Yet he passed away, and, lo ! he was 
 
 not; yea, I sought him, but he could 
 
 not be found. 
 XCII, 12. The righteous shall nourish like 
 
 the palm tree; he shall grow like a 
 
 cedar in Lebanon. 
 CIV, 16, 17. The trees of the Lord are full 
 
 of sap; the cedars of Lebanon which he 
 
 hath planted; where the birds make their 
 
 nests; as for the stork, the fir trees are 
 
 her house. 
 
 broughtgoldfromOphir brought in from CXXXVII, 2. We hanged our harps upon 
 Ophir great plenty of almug (perhaps the willows in the midst thereof, 
 
 sandal-wood) trees and precious stones. CXLVIII, 9. Mountains and all hills; fruit- 
 
 II SAMUEL. 
 
 V, 24. When thou hearest the sound of a 
 going in the tops of the mulberry trees. 
 
 I KINGS. 
 IV, 29. And God gave Solomon wisdom and 
 understanding exceeding much. 
 33. And he spake of trees from the cedar 
 tree that is in Lebanon even unto the 
 hyssop that springeth out of the wall. 
 X, II. And the navy also of Hiram that 
 
 12. And the king made of the almug 
 trees pillows for the house of the Lord, 
 and for the king's house, harps also, 
 and psalteries for singers; there came 
 no such almug trees, nor were seen 
 unto this day. 
 
 27. Solomon made cedars to be as the 
 sycamore trees that are in the vale for 
 abundance. 
 XIX, 5. He lay and slept under a juniper 
 tree. 
 
 I CHRONICLES. 
 
 ful trees, and all cedars. 
 13. Let them praise the name of the 
 Lord 
 
 proverbs. 
 Ill, 18. Wisdom is a tree of life to tnem 
 
 that lay hold upon her; and haoDy is 
 
 every one that retaineth her. 
 XI, 30. The fruit of the righteous is a tree 
 
 of life. 
 XIII, 12. Hope deferred maketh the heart 
 
 sick; but when the desire cometh, it is 
 
 a tree of life. 
 
 XVI, 33. Then shall the trees of the wood XV, 4. A wholesome tongue is a tree of life, 
 sing out at the presence of the Lord. 
 
 ECCLESIASTES. 
 
 II, 5. I made me gardens and orchards, and 
 I planted trees in them of all kinds of 
 fruits. 
 
 JOB. 
 
 XIV, 7, 8, 9. For there is hope of a tree, if 
 it be cut down, that it will sprout again, 
 
 and that the tender branch thereof will XI, 3. If the tree fall toward the south, or 
 
 not cease, though the root thereof wax 
 old in the earth; and the stock thereof 
 die in the ground; yet through the scent 
 of water it will bud and bring forth 
 boughs like a plant. 
 
 toward the north, in the place where 
 the tree falleth, there shall it be. 
 
 THE SONG OF SOLOMON. 
 
 II, 3. As the apple tree among the trees 
 of the wood, so is my beloved among 
 the sons. I sat down under his shadow 
 with great delight, and his fruit was 
 sweet to my taste. 
 
 like a tree planted by the streams of IV, 13. Thy plants are an orchard of pome- 
 water that bnngeth its fruit in its sea- granates, with pleasant fruits; 14, with 
 son, whose leaf also doth not wither, all trees of frankincense and myrrh 
 and whatsoever hedoeth shall prosper. and aloes. 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 I, 1, 2, 3. Blessed is the man whose delight 
 is in the law of the Lord. He shall be 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 251 
 
 Scripture Selections — Continued. 
 
 green, and shall not be careful in the 
 
 VI, 11. I went down into the garden of nuts 
 to see the fruits of the valley, and to 
 see whether the vine flourished, and 
 the pomegranates budded. 
 
 ISAIAH. 
 
 VI, 13. As a teil tree and as an oak whose 
 
 substance is in them when they cast 
 
 their leaves; so the holy seed shall be 
 
 the substance thereof. 
 XLI, ig. I will plant in the wilderness the 
 
 cedar (acacia) tree, and the myrtle, and 
 
 the oil tree; I will set in the desert the 
 
 fir tree, and the pine and the box tree 
 
 together. 
 XLIV, 4. The)' shall spring up as among 
 
 the grass, as willows by the water 
 
 courses. 
 14. He heweth him down cedars, and 
 
 taketh the cypress and the oak, 
 
 which he strengthened for himself 
 
 among the trees of the forest; he 
 
 planteth an ash and the rain doth 
 
 nourish it. 
 LV, 12. All the trees of the field shall clap 
 
 their hands; 
 13. Instead of the thorn shall come up the 
 
 fir-tree, and instead of the brier shall 
 
 come up the myrtle tree, and it shall be 
 
 to the Lord for a name. 
 LX, 13. The glory of Lebanon shall come 
 
 unto thee, the fir tree, the pine tree and 
 
 the box together. 
 LXI, 3. That the}' might be called trees of 
 
 righteousness, the planting of the Lord, XXXIV, 27. And the tree of the field shall 
 
 that he might be glorified. yield her fruit, and the earth shall yield 
 
 her increase, and they shall be safe in 
 jeremiah. their land, and shall know that I am 
 
 I, 11. Moreover the word of the Lord came the Lord. 
 
 unto me, saying Jeremiah, what seest XLVII, 12. And by the river by the bank 
 
 year of drouth, neither shall cease from 
 yielding fruit. 
 
 EZEKIEL. 
 
 XXXI, 3. Behold the Assyrian was a cedar 
 in Lebanon with fair branches and 
 * * * his top was among the thick 
 boughs. 
 
 4. The waters made him great, the deep 
 set him up on high, with the rivers run- 
 ning round about his plants, and sent 
 out her little rivers unto all the trees of 
 the field. 
 
 5. Therefore his height was exalted above 
 all the trees of the field, and his boughs 
 were multiplied, and his branches be- 
 came long, because of the multitude of 
 waters, when he shot forth. 
 
 6. All the fowls of heaven made their 
 nests in his boughs. * * * 
 
 7. Thus was he fair in his greatness in the 
 length of his branches; for his root was 
 by great waters. 
 
 8. The cedars in the garden of God could 
 not hide him; the fir trees were not like 
 his boughs, and the chestnut trees were 
 not like his branches; nor any tree in 
 the garden of God was like unto him in 
 his beauty. 
 
 9. I have made him fair by the multitude 
 of his branches; so that all the trees of 
 Eden, that were in the garden of God, 
 envied him. 
 
 thou ? And I said, I see a rod of an 
 almond tree. 
 XVII, 7, 8. Blessed is the man that trusteth 
 in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord 
 is. For he shall be like a tree, planted 
 by the water, and spreadeth out his 
 roots by the river, and shall not fear 
 when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be 
 
 thereof, on this side and on that side 
 shall grow all the trees for meat, whose 
 leaf shall not fade, neither shall the 
 fruit thereof be consumed : it shall bring 
 forth new fruit, according to his months, 
 * * * and the fruit thereof shall be 
 for meat, and the leaf thereof for medi- 
 
252 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 HOSEA. 
 
 IV, 13. My people bum incense upon the 
 hills, under oaks and poplars, and elms 
 because the shadow thereof is good. 
 
 XIV, 6. His branches shall spread, and his 
 beauty shall be as the olive tree. 
 
 JOEL. 
 
 Scripture Selections — Continued. 
 
 18. A good tree cannot bring forth evil 
 fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring 
 forth good fruit. 
 
 19. Every tree that bringeth not forth 
 good fruit is hewn down, and cast into 
 the fire. 
 
 20. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall 
 know them. 
 
 I, 12. The vine is dried up, and the fig tree XII, 33. Either make the tree good, and 
 
 xanguisheth; the pomegranate tree, the 
 palm tree also, and the apple tree, even 
 all the trees of the field, are withered: 
 because joy is withered away from the 
 sons of men. 
 
 AMOS. 
 
 II, 9. * * * Whose height was like the 
 
 height of the cedars, and he was strong 
 as the oaks. 
 
 ZECHARIAH. 
 
 III, 10. In that day, saith the Lord of hosts, 
 
 his fruit good; or else make the tree 
 corrupt, and his fruit corrupt: for the 
 tree is known by his fruit. 
 
 REVELATIONS. 
 
 II, 7. * * * To him that overcometh 
 will I give to eat of the tree of life, 
 which is in the midst of the paradise of 
 God. 
 
 XXI, 10. And he carried me away in the 
 spirit to a great and high mountain, and 
 showed me that great city, the holy 
 Jerusalem. * * * 
 
 shall ye call every man his neighbor, XXII, 2. In the midst of the street of it, 
 
 under the vine and under the fig tree. 
 
 MATTHEW. 
 
 VII, 17. Even so every good tree bringeth 
 forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree 
 bringeth forth evil fruit. 
 
 and on either side of the river, was 
 there the tree of life, which bare twelve 
 manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit 
 every month; and the leaves of the tree 
 were for the healing of the nations. 
 
 THE GOLDEN ROD. 
 
 From the souvenir "Our National Flower," by permission of the publishers, Messrs. L. Prang & Co., Boston. 
 
 1AM the rustic golden rod, 
 I know not pride nor shy reserve; 
 My tasselled plumes so gayly nod 
 
 With freedom's grace in every curve. 
 
 I bloom not when the year is young, 
 And growing day by day more fair, 
 
 But when the autumn chill has flung 
 A sense of winter on the air. 
 
 Then close beside the dust}' road, 
 To cheer the humblest passer-by, 
 
 Or in the fields, by harvest load, 
 
 With lusty courage, up spring I. 
 
 And in my honest gold there shines 
 
 The promise sown in freedom's soil; 
 
 No high or low its law defines, 
 
 But lavish crowns the homeliest toil. 
 
 Then let me be the emblem bright 
 Of hope and promise to the free, 
 
 And in my pennons read aright 
 The glad fruition that shall be. 
 
 When feudal spring has passed away, 
 
 And monarchs' pomp has fled the earth, 
 
 Then freedom's harvest shall be gay, 
 
 And lowly wayside grace have worth. 
 Hopestill Goodwin. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 253 
 
 OF THE BOY THAT STOLE APPLES. 
 
 AN old man found a rude boy upon one of his trees stealing apples, and 
 desired him to come down ; but the young sauce-box told him plainly he 
 would not. "Won't you?" said the old man, "then I will fetch you down;" so 
 he pulled up some turf or grass and threw at him; but this only made the 
 youngster laugh, to think the old man should pretend to beat him down from 
 the tree with grass only. 
 
 "Well, well," said the old man, "if neither words nor grass will do, I must try 
 what virtue there is in stones ; " so the old man pelted him heartily with stones, 
 which soon made the young chap hasten down from the tree and beg the old 
 man's pardon. 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 If good words and gentle means will not reclaim the wicked, they must be 
 dealt with in a more severe manner. 
 
 Webster's Spelling Book, 1829 
 
 THE PINE TREE. 
 
 THE tremendous unity of the pine absorbs and moulds the life of a race. 
 The pine shadows rest upon a nation. The northern peoples, century 
 after century, lived under one or other of the two great powers of the pine and 
 the sea, both infinite. They dwelt amidst the forests as they wandered on the 
 waves, and saw no end nor any other horizon. Still the dark, green trees, or 
 the dark, green waters, jagged the dawn with their fringe or their foam. And 
 whatever elements of imagination, or of warrior strength, or of domestic 
 justice, were brought down by the Norwegian or the Goth against the dis- 
 soluteness or degradation of the south of Europe, were taught them under the 
 green roofs and wild penetralia of the pine. 
 
 John Ruskin, Modern Painters. 
 
254 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Written for the " Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 SHUT YOUR CATTLE IN. 
 
 THE following directions are suggested by the author : To be recited b) T a 
 boy or girl. The instant the last line is said, have a chorus of voices, or 
 all the parts at least sing the little song, and as they pass off let each part sing 
 out loud and prompt " Shut 'em in ! " then let an echo in the school-house take 
 it up and continue until you can only faintly hear it. Then let the whole 
 school break out with " Oh shut your Cattle in ! " 
 
 Ye herds that haunt the country ways, 
 
 Ye lowing kine with threatening horns, 
 E'en birds abruptly cease their lays, 
 
 And leave their nests among the thorns 
 Where'er ye tread, with reckless hoof, 
 
 While bleeding bloom its fragrance sheds, 
 
 And violets tremble in their beds, 
 And frightened children stand aloof. 
 E'en struggling maples browsed and gnawed, 
 By your dread presence over-awed; 
 For mercy cry with every breeze. 
 Ye heed them not. God pity these ! 
 With love deep-rooted thus to die, 
 While wealth unfolded e'en must lie 
 All dormant, till the kindly earth 
 Unto some other life gives birth, 
 Only to be crushed and bleed 
 A victim to the farmer's greed. 
 
 Song : 
 
 The farmer's greed is the farmer's sin; 
 Please shut your cattle in my friend, 
 And let the clovers bob and bend, 
 Oh shut your cattle in, 
 And thus our praises win, 
 Oh shut your cattle in. 
 Shut 'em in ! shut 'em in ! 
 St. Augustine, Fla. Mrs. B. C. Rude. 
 
 Hence, let me haste unto the mid-wood shade, 
 Where scarce a sunbeam wanders through the gloom, 
 And on the dark green grass, beside the brink 
 Of haunted stream, that by the roots of oak 
 Rolls o'er the rocky channel, lie at large.. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 255 
 
 MON-DA-MIN; 
 
 OR, THE ROMANCE OF MAIZE. 
 
 SO grew Osseo, as a lonely pine, 
 That knows the secret of the wandering breeze, 
 And ever sings its canticles divine, 
 
 Uncomprehended by the other trees ; 
 And now the time drew nigh, when he began 
 The solemn fast whose issue proves the man. 
 
 His father built a lodge the wood within, 
 
 Where he the appointed space should duly bide, 
 
 Till such propitious time as he had been 
 By faith prepared, by fasting purified, 
 
 And in mysterious dreams allowed to see 
 
 What God the guardian of his life would be. 
 
 The anxious crisis of the Spring was past, 
 
 And warmth was master o'er thclingering cold; 
 
 The alder's catkins dropped; the maple cast 
 
 His crimson bloom, the willow's gowny gold 
 
 Blew wide, and softer than a squirrel's ear 
 
 The white-oak's foxy leaves began appear. 
 
 There was a motion in the soil. A sound 
 
 Lighter than falling seeds, shook out of flowers, 
 
 Exhaled where dead leaves, sodden on the ground, 
 Repressed the eager grass ; and there for hours 
 
 Osseo lay, and vainly strove to bring 
 
 Into his mind the miracle of Spring. 
 
 The wood-birds knew it, and their voices rang 
 Around his lodge; with many a dart and whir 
 
 Of saucy joy, the shrewish catbird sang 
 
 Full-throated — and he heard the kingfisher, 
 
 Who from his God escaped with rumpled crest, 
 
 And the white medal hanging on his breast. 
 
 The aquilegia sprinkled on the rocks 
 
 A scarlet rain ; the yellow violet 
 Sat in the chariot of its leaves ; the phlox 
 
 Held spikes of purple flame in meadows wet, 
 And all the streams with vernal-scented reed 
 Were fringed, and streaky bells of miskodeed. 
 
256 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 The boy went musing : What are these, that burst 
 The sod and grow, without the aid of man ? 
 
 What father brought them food ? What mother nursed 
 Them in her earthly lodge, till Spring began ? 
 
 They cannot speak ; they move but with the air ; 
 
 Yet souls of evil or of good they bear. 
 
 How are they made, that some with wholesome juice 
 
 Delight the tongue, and some are charged with death? 
 
 If spirits them inhabit, they can loose 
 
 Their shape sometimes, and talk with human breath ; 
 
 Would that in dreams one such would come to me, 
 
 And thence my teacher and my guardian be ! 
 
 $ sN % 4 s , + 4- 
 
 Taylor. 
 
 THE OLD MAN'S COUNSEL. 
 
 THE sun of Ma)' was bright in middle heaven, 
 And steeped the sprouting forests, the green hills, 
 And emerald wheat-fields, in his yellow light. 
 Upon the apple tree, where rosy buds 
 Stood clustered, ready to burst forth in bloom, 
 The robin warbled forth his full clear note 
 For hours, and wearied not. Within the woods, 
 Whose young and half transparent leaves scarce cast 
 A shade, gay circles of anemones 
 
 Danced on their stalks; the shad-bush, white with flowers 
 Brightened the glens ; the new-leaved butternut 
 And quivering poplar to the roving breeze 
 Gave a balsamic fragrance. In the fields 
 I saw the pulses of the gentle wind 
 On the green grass. My heart was touched with joy 
 At so much beauty, flushing every hour 
 Into a fuller beauty. 
 
 ^ ^ -(J 5j. * * * 
 
 ' Well mayst thou join in gladness," he replied, 
 
 'With the glad earth, her springing plants and flowers, 
 
 And this soft wind, the herald of the green 
 
 Luxuriant summer.'' * * * Bryant. 
 
 In heav'n the trees 
 Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines 
 Yield nectar. Milton. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 257 
 
 THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP. 
 
 ik T)UILD me straight, O worthy Master ! 
 _L) Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel, 
 That shall laugh at all disaster 
 
 And with wave and whirlwind wrestle." 
 
 Covering many a rood of ground, 
 
 Lay the timber piled around ; 
 
 Timber of chestnut, and elm, and oak, 
 
 And scattered here and there, with these, 
 
 The knarred and crooked cedar knees ; 
 
 Brought from regions far away, 
 
 From Pascagoula's sunny bav, 
 
 And the banks of the roaring Roanoke ! 
 
 Ah ! what a wondrous thing it is 
 
 To note how many wheels of toil 
 
 One thought, one word, can set in motion ! 
 
 There's not a ship that sails the ocean, 
 
 But every climate, every soil, 
 
 Must bring its tribute, great or small, 
 
 And help to build the wooden wall ! 
 
 'Thus," said he, "will we build this ship! 
 Lay square the blocks upon the slip, 
 And follow well this plan of mine, 
 Choose the timbers with greatest care ; 
 Of all that is unsound beware ; 
 For only what is good and strong 
 To this vessel shall belong. 
 Cedar of Maine and Georgia pine 
 Here together shall combine. 
 A goodly frame, and a goodly fame 
 And the Union be her name ! " 
 
 * * * =N * 
 
 Long ago, 
 
 In the deer-haunted forests of Maine, 
 When upon mountain and plain 
 Lay the snow, 
 
 They fell, — those lordly pines ! 
 Those grand, majestic pines ! 
 'Mid shouts and cheers 
 The jaded steers, 
 Panting beneath the goad, 
 17 
 
258 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 Dragged down the weary, winding road 
 
 Those captive kings so straight and tall, 
 
 To be shorn of their streaming hair. 
 
 And, naked and bare, 
 
 To feel the stress and the strain 
 
 Of the wind and the reeling main, 
 
 Whose roar 
 
 Would remind them forevermore 
 
 Of their native forests they should not see again. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Thou too, sail on, O Ship of State ! 
 Sail on, O Union strong and great ! 
 Humanity with all its fears, 
 With all the hopes of future years, 
 Is hanging breathless on thy fate. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 ORCHARD BLOSSOMS. 
 
 DOTH thy heart stir within thee at the sight 
 Of orchard blooms upon the mossy bough ? 
 
 Doth their sweet household smile waft back the glow 
 Of childhood's morn — the wandering, fresh delight 
 In earth's new coloring, then all strangely bright 
 A joy of fairyland? Doth some old nook, 
 Haunted by visions of thy first-loved book, 
 Rise on thy soul, with faint-streaked blossoms white 
 
 Showered o'er the turf, and the lone primrose knot, 
 
 And robin's nest, still faithful to the spot, 
 And the bee's dreary chime ? O gentle friend ! 
 
 The world's cold breath, not time's, this life bereaves 
 
 Of vernal gifts : Time hallows what he leaves, 
 And will for us endear spring memories to the end. 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 Various the trees and passing foliage here, — 
 Wild pear, and oak, and dusky juniper, 
 While briony between in trails of white, 
 And ivy, and the suckle's streaky light, 
 And moss, warm gleaming with a sudden mark, 
 Like growths of sunshine left upon the bark; 
 And still the pine, flat-topp'd, and dark, and tall, 
 In lordly right predominant o'er all. 
 
 Leigh Hunt. Ravenna Pine Forest. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 259 
 
 THE FALLEN MONARCH. 
 
 SITTING there by the side of this prone Monarch, and measuring its diame- 
 ter in my eye, or climbing up twenty-five or thirty feet upon its side — 
 comparing it in my mind with the largest trees I had ever seen elsewhere — im- 
 agining it stretched out in some city street, filling all the carriageway and 
 reaching up to the second story windows— the idea of its vastness took full 
 possession of me, and for the first time I grasped its greatness. And even 
 then, I do not think the idea of size and measurement so overwhelmed me as 
 did the thought of its vast age and the centuries it had looked down upon. 
 The great space it had filled was nothing to the ages it had bridged over. No 
 inanimate monument of man's work was here — no unwrapping of dead Pha- 
 raohs from the mummy-cloths of the embalmers ; but here had been life and 
 growth and increase, and running out of roots and spreading forth of branches, 
 and budding leaves and flowing sap, and all the processes of nature with poise 
 and swing from winter's sleep to summer's waking, and the noiseless register- 
 ing of the years and centuries in figures that could not be mistaken from the 
 heart of the sapling out to the last rind of bark that hugged its age. And 
 though one looks with profoundest wonder at the vast size of these monsters, 
 it is, after all, the suggestion they give of their far reach backward into time 
 that most impresses the beholder. 
 
 The rings in the trunks indicate ages varying from a few years to upwards of 
 two thousand. Those of about ten feet in diameter are in the neighborhood 
 of six hundred years old. Most of the largest trees have been damaged more 
 or less by fire. One of them has been entirely hollowed out, so that our whole 
 party of twelve rode in upon our horses and stood together in the cavity. The 
 tree grows on, and is as green at the top as any of them, notwithstanding the 
 hollowness of its trunk. 
 
 Isaac H. Bromley. The Big Trees and the Yosemite. 
 
 Seridner's Magazine, January, 1872. 
 
 THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS. 
 
 I HEAR, from many a little throat, Brown meadows and the russet hill, 
 A warble interrupted long ; Not yet the haunt of grazing herds, 
 
 I hear the robin's flute-like note, And thickets by the glimmering rill, 
 
 The bluebird's slenderer song. Are all alive with birds. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell; 
 
 It fell upon a little western flower, 
 
 Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, 
 
 And maidens call it Love-in-idleness. 
 
 Midsummer Night's Dream. 
 
2 6o ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 THE TULIP TREE. 
 
 NOW my blood with long-forgotten fleetness, 
 Bounds again to boyhood's blithest tune, 
 While I drink a life of brimming sweetness 
 
 From the glory of the breezy June. 
 Far above, the fields of ether brighten ; 
 
 Forest leaves are twinkling in their glee; 
 And the daisy snows around me whiten, 
 Drifted down the sloping lea ! 
 
 On the hills he standeth as a tower, 
 
 Shining in the morn, the tulip tree! 
 On his rounded turrets beats the shower, 
 
 While his emerald flags are flapping free ; 
 But when summer, 'mid her harvests standing, 
 
 Pours to him the sun's unmingled wine, 
 O'er his branches, all at once expanding, 
 
 How the starry blossoms shine ! 
 
 % * H* * H» # 
 
 Wind of June, that sweep'st the rolling meadow, 
 
 Thou shalt wail in branches rough and bare, 
 While the tree, o'erhung with storm and shadow, 
 
 Writhes and creaks amid the gusty air. 
 All his leaves, like shields of fairies scattered, 
 
 Then shall drop before the north wind's spears, 
 And his limbs, by hail and tempest battered, 
 
 Feel the weight of wintry years. 
 
 Yet, why cloud the rapture and the glory 
 
 Of the beautiful, bequeathed us now? 
 Why relinquish all the summer's story, 
 
 Calling up the bleak autumnal bough ? 
 Let thy blossoms in the morning brighten, 
 
 Happy heart, as doth the tulip tree, 
 While the daisy's snows around us whiten, 
 
 Drifted down the sloping lea ! 
 
 Taylor, 
 
 Flower in the crannied wall 
 
 I pluck you out of the crannies ; 
 
 Hold you here, root and all, in my hand, 
 
 Little flower, but if I could understand 
 
 What you are, root and all, and all in all, 
 
 I should know what God and man is. 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 26l 
 
 THE LOST MAY. 
 
 WHEN May, with cowslip braided locks, Mays, when my heart expanded first, 
 Walks through the land in green attire, A honeyed blossom, fresh with dew; 
 
 And burns in meadow grass the phlox And one sweet wind of heaven dispersed 
 His torch of purple fire; The only clouds I knew. 
 
 When buds have burst the silver sheath, 
 And shifting pink, and gray, and gold 
 
 Steal o'er the woods, while fair beneath 
 The bloom)' vales unfold; 
 
 For she, whose softly murmured name 
 The music of the month expressed, 
 
 Walked by my side, in holy shame 
 Of girlish love confessed. 
 
 When, emerald bright, the hemlock stands 
 New feathered, needled new the pine; 
 
 And, exiles from the orient lands, 
 The turbaned tulips shine; 
 
 The budding chestnuts overhead, 
 
 Their sprinkled shadows in the lane, 
 
 Blue flowers along the brooklet's bed, 
 I see them all again ! 
 
 When wild azaleas deck the knoll, The old, old tale of girl and boy, 
 And cinque-foil stars the fields of home, Repeated ever, never old; 
 
 And winds that take the white-weed, roll To each in turn the gates of joy, 
 The meadows into foam; The gates of heaven unfold. 
 
 Then from the jubilee I turn 
 
 To other Mays that I have seen, 
 
 Where more resplendent blossoms burn, 
 And statelier woods are green. 
 
 And when the punctual May arrives, 
 With cowslip-garland on her brow, 
 
 We know what once she gave our lives, 
 And cannot give us now ! 
 
 Taylor. 
 
 THE MAY FLOWER. 
 
 (TRAILING ARBUTUS.) 
 From the souvenir "Our National Flower," by permission of the publishers, Messrs. L. Prang & Co., Boston. 
 
 WHEN stern New England's tardy spring My fragrance, like a message sweet, 
 First thrills with life her rugged breast, Their spirits touched, and reverently 
 
 'Tis I, who, shyly venturing, The}' chose the blossom at their feet, 
 
 Peep forth, her earliest, sweetest guest. The symbol, of their faith to be. 
 
 'Twas I the Pilgrim Fathers found 
 
 When April called them to the wood, 
 
 Trailing upon the leaf-strewn ground, 
 Fair sign of nature's yielding mood. 
 
 The)' marked my petals' tender hue, 
 Soft flushing in the light of day ; 
 
 My fragile grace they guarded knew 
 Amid my rough leaves' disarray. 
 
 They, too, had wrapped with roughest forms 
 The gracious gospel that they loved; 
 
 They, too, had braved life's rudest storms, 
 Their simple courage, simply proved. 
 
 They, too, should prosper in the land 
 
 Where trusting flowers undaunted thrive 
 
 Their race, deep rooted, firm should stand, 
 And freedom's cause triumphant live. 
 Hopestill Goodwin. 
 
262 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 IN PRAISE OF TREES. 
 
 AND foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led, 
 Joying to heare the birdes sweete harmony, 
 Which, therein shrouded from the tempest dred, 
 Seemed in their song to scorne the cruell sky. 
 Much can they praise the trees so straight and hy, 
 The sayling Pine ; the Cedar proud and tall ; 
 The vine-propp Elme ; the Poplar never dry; 
 The builder Oake, sole king of forrests all; 
 The Aspine good for staves; the Cypresse funerall. 
 
 The Laurell, meed of mightie conquerors 
 And poets sage; the Firre that weepeth still; 
 The Willow, worne of forlorne Paramours; 
 The Eugh, obedient to the benders will ; 
 The Birch, for shafts ; the Sallow for the mill ; 
 The Mirrhe sweete-bleeding in the bitter wound ; 
 The warlike Beech ; the Ash for nothing ill ; 
 The fruitfull Olive ; and the Platane round ; 
 The carver Holme ; the Maple seldom inward sound. 
 
 Spenser, Faerie Queene. 
 
 TONGUES IN TREES. 
 
 In the forest of Arden, Shakespeare makes the banished duke say to his 
 companions ■ 
 
 \ TOW, my co-mates and brothers in exile, 
 1\ Hath not old custom made this life more sweet 
 Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods 
 More free from peril than the envious court? 
 Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, 
 The season's difference, as the icy fang 
 And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, 
 Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, 
 Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say : 
 'This is no flattery; these are counsellors 
 That feelingly persuade me what I am.' 
 Sweet are the uses of adversity. * * * 
 
 * ^i ^c :£ 
 
 And this our life, exempt from public haunt, 
 Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
 Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. 
 I would not change it." 
 
 As You Like It, act 2, scene i. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 263 
 
 THE MADRONA. 
 
 TO the south of San Francisco there is even a greater range of color and 
 diversity of tree growth. The San Mateo hills are rich with evergreens ; 
 the country sweeping up from the pebbly beach at Pescadero is made up of 
 sunny ridges, and rifted with narrow and close-grown valleys, where thread- 
 like brooks murmur their way through tunnels of foliage to the sea, while the 
 mountains of Santa Cruz furnish another rendezvous for the mammoth red- 
 wood, the chestnut, and the oak. But distinguished from all the rest of these 
 Southern nabobs, curious in shape and almost humanly beautiful, stands the 
 giant Madrona, or arbutus tree. The genus really belongs to the old world. 
 Asia has its species, and Mexico claims one or two representatives, but the 
 pride of the family and delight of arboriculturists is the strong, healthy, and 
 handsome child of the west coast. It is often eighty to one hundred feet high, 
 three feet in diameter, and a famous specimen in Marin county has a measured 
 girt of twenty-three feet at the branching point of the tremendous stem, with 
 many of the branches three feet through. The foliage is light and airy, the 
 leaves oblong, pale beneath, bright green above. The bloom is in dense 
 racemes of cream-white flowers ; the fruit, a dry orange-colored berry, rough 
 and uninteresting. But the charm of the Madrona, outside of its general 
 appearance, is in its bark,— no, it is not a bark, it is a skin, delicate in texture, 
 smooth, and as soft to the touch as the shoulders of an infant, In the strong 
 sunlight of the summer these trees glisten with the rich color of polished cin- 
 namon, and in the moist shadow of the springtime they are velvety in com- 
 bination colors of old-gold and sage-green. There is a human pose to the 
 trunk. Seen through the tangle of the thicket, it looks like the brown lithe 
 body of an Indian, and in the moonlight the graceful upsweep of its branches 
 is like the careless lifting of a dusky maiden's arms. Every feature of the 
 Madrona is feminine. They grow in groves or neighborhoods, and seldom 
 stand in isolation, courtesy to the winds, mock at the dignified evergreens 
 and oaks, and with every favorable breeze and opportunity flirt desperately 
 with the mountain lilacs that toss high their purple plumes on the headwaters 
 of Los Gatos creek. 
 
 Harper's Magazine, October, 1889. FRED. M. Somers. 
 
 The birch tree swang her fragrant hair, 
 
 The bramble cast her berry. 
 The gin within the juniper 
 
 Began to make him merry, 
 The poplars, in long order due, 
 
 With cypress promenaded, 
 The shock-head willows two and two 
 
 By rivers gallopaded. 
 
 Tennyson, Amphion. 
 
264 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 FREEDOM'S FLOWER. 
 
 THE GOLDEN ROD. 
 
 LET merry England proudl)' rear 
 Her blended roses bought so dear, 
 And Scotland bind her bonnet blue 
 With heath and harebell dipped in dew; 
 On favored Erin's crest be seen 
 The flower she loves of emerald green ; 
 But ours, this new land of the west, 
 What emblem blossom suits it best? 
 No fragile nursling of the spring, 
 No dainty, garden-nurtured thing; 
 But clad in sunshine glad and strong, 
 Self-sown, upspringing from the sod, 
 And scattered wide and lasting long, 
 Is freedom's flower, the golden rod. 
 
 High on the mountain crag it blooms; 
 The salt wind shakes its yellow plumes; 
 And with its countless flowers behold 
 The prairie gleams a sea of gold; 
 While lonely nook and sterile place 
 Grow lovely with its waving grace. 
 Free, free, we gather it at will, 
 And leave each roadside shining still ! 
 And brave it blossoms, heeding not 
 Though storms beat wild, or suns burn hot; 
 Alike to all its flowers belong; 
 Through all the land it decks the sod; 
 It bids our hearts " Be glad, be strong; " 
 'Tis freedom's flower, the golden rod. 
 Marian Douglas, in Harper s Bazar. 
 
 Written for the Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 THE DAISY. 
 
 OUR national emblem. 
 
 DAISIES, bright daisies keep nodding at me, 
 And winking and blinking so coquettishly, 
 While up from the depths of their great speaking eyes 
 Love and loyalty well ! dear national ties ! 
 Go ! weave me a banner of grasses, fresh grasses, 
 From out by the roadside where every one passes; 
 Now bring me sweet daisies 
 The pretty ox-eyed; 
 Cut from the roadside 
 Which every one praises. 
 Now tastefully lay in the daisies for stars 
 And catch me the radiant sunbeams for bars, 
 Then say if a prettier emblem can be 
 For this land of the brave, this home of the free. 
 Sodus, N. Y. Mrs. B. C. Rude. 
 
 Dear though the shadowy maple be, 
 And dearer still the whispering pine 
 
 Dearest yon russet-laden tree 
 
 Browned by the heavy-rubbing kine ! 
 
 There childhood flung its rustling stone, 
 There venturous boyhood learned to climb 
 
 How well the early graft was known 
 Whose fruit was ripe ere harvest time ! 
 
 Holmes. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 265 
 
 A MAY MORNING LESSON. 
 
 First. - 
 
 RECITATION FOR FIVE PUPILS. 
 
 Fourth 
 H^WICE one are 
 
 Second. 
 
 Third. - 
 
 X Prairie rose, blushing through 
 My window — all aglow with dew, 
 Twice one are two. 
 
 -Twice two are four : 
 Bees a-humming round the door, 
 Calling others by the score, 
 Twice two are four. 
 
 -Twice three are six : 
 Pansy-beds their colors mix ; 
 See the mother hen and chicks. 
 Twice three are six. 
 
 — Twice four are eight: 
 
 Gorgeous butterflies, elate, 
 Dancing, poising, delicate. 
 Twice four are eight. 
 
 Macaulay' s Little Folks. 
 
 Fifth. — Twice five are ten : 
 
 Sweetest strains from yonder glen, 
 Echoed o'er and o'er again. 
 Twice five are ten. 
 
 All. — Twice six are twelve : 
 
 Merry maidens of the year, — 
 Some in snowy gowns appear, 
 Some in gold and silver sheen ; 
 Vet the fairest is, I ween, 
 Dainty May in pink and green. 
 
 GOLDEN-ROD. 
 
 IN the pasture's rude embrace, 
 All o'er run with tangled vines, 
 Where the thistle claims its place, 
 
 And the straggling hedge confines, 
 Bearing still the sweet impress 
 Of unfettered loveliness, 
 In the field and by the wall, 
 Binding, clasping, crowning all, — 
 Golden-rod ! 
 
 Nature lies disheveled, pale, 
 
 With her feverish lips apart, — 
 Day by day the pulses fail, 
 
 Nearer to her bounded heart : 
 Yet that slackened grasp doth hold 
 Store of pure and genuine gold ; 
 Quick thou comest, strong and free, 
 Type of all the wealth to be, — 
 Golden-rod ! 
 
 Elaine Goodale. 
 
 BIRD SONGS. 
 
 THIS is what the robin sings : 
 " Sweet, sweet, 
 All the cherries on the tree 
 God put there for you and me ; 
 Every good and tender seed, 
 Grown on flower, or grown on weed, 
 God made for our wee ones dear, 
 So we sing the whole glad year. 
 Sweet, sweet." 
 
 Hear the blue bird where he swings : 
 
 Oh, my home is green and fair, 
 
 And the gentle summer air 
 
 Rocks my little ones to rest, 
 
 In their soft and downy nest ; 
 
 Joyously I sing and call. 
 
 For the good God watches all ! " 
 
 Kathie Moore. 
 
266 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 TALKS ON TREES. 
 
 FROM " THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE." 
 
 ON'T you want to hear me talk trees a little now? That is one of my 
 specialties. 
 
 D 
 
 I want you to understand, in the first place, that I have a most intense, pas- 
 sionate fondness for trees in general, and have had several romantic attach- 
 ments to certain trees in particular. 
 
 I shall speak of trees as we see them, love them, adore them in the fields, 
 where they are alive, holding their green sunshades over our heads, talking to 
 us with their hundred thousand whispering tongues, looking down on us with 
 that sweet meekness which belongs to huge, but limited organisms, — which 
 one sees in the brown eyes of oxen, but most in the patient posture, the out- 
 stretched arms, and the heavy-drooping robes of these vast beings endowed 
 with life, but not with soul, — which outgrow us and outlive us, but stand help- 
 less, — poor things'! — while Nature dresses and undresses them, like so many 
 full-sized, but under-witted children. 
 
 Just think of applying the Linnaean system to an elm! Who cares how 
 many stamens or pistils that little brown flower, which comes out before the 
 leaf, may have to classify it by ? What we want is the meaning, the character, 
 the expression of a tree, as a kind and as an individual. 
 
 There is a mother-idea in each particular kind of tree, which, if well marked, 
 is probably embodied in the poetry of every language. Take the oak, for in- 
 stance, and we find it always standing as a type of strength and endurance. I 
 wonder if you ever thought of the single mark of supremacy which distinguishes 
 this tree from those around it? The others shirk the work of resisting gravity; 
 the oak defies it, It chooses the horizontal direction for its limbs so that their 
 whole weight may tell, — and then stretches them out fifty or sixty feet, so that 
 the strain may be mighty enough to be worth resisting. You will find, that, in 
 passing from the extreme downward droop of the branches of the weeping wil- 
 low to the extreme upward inclination of those of the poplar, they sweep 
 nearly half a circle. At 90° the oak stops short; to slant upward another 
 degree would mark infirmity of purpose; to bend downwards, weakness of or- 
 ganization. The American elm betrays something of both ; yet sometimes, as 
 we shall see, puts on a certain resemblance to its sturdier neighbor. 
 
 It wont do to be exclusive in our taste about trees. There is hardly one 
 of them which has not peculiar beauties in some fitting place for it. I remem- 
 ber a tall poplar of monumental proportions and aspect, a vast pillar of glossy 
 green, placed on the summit of a lofty hill, and a beacon to all the country 
 round. A native of that region saw fit to build his house very near it, and, 
 having a fancy that it might blow down some time or other, and exterminate 
 himself and any incidental relatives who might be " stopping" or "tarrying" 
 with him, — also laboring under the delusion that human life is under all cir- 
 
ARBOR DA Y MAN UAL. 267 
 
 cumstances to be preferred to vegetable existence, — had the great poplar cut 
 down. It is so easy to say, "It is only a poplar," and so much harder to re- 
 place its living cone than to build a granite obelisk ! 
 
 I always tremble for a celebrated tree when I approach it for the first time. 
 Provincialism has no scale of excellence in man or vegetable; it never knows 
 a first-rate article of either kind when it has it, and is constantly taking second 
 and third-rate ones for Nature's best. I have often fancied the tree was afraid 
 of me, and that a sort of shiver came over it as over a betrothed maiden when 
 she first stands before the unknown to whom she has been plighted. Before 
 the measuring tape the proudest tree of them all quails and shrinks into itself. 
 All those stories of four or five men stretching their arms around it and not 
 touching each other's fingers, of one's pacing the shadow at noon and making it 
 so many hundred feet, die upon its leafy lips in the presence of the awful 
 ribbon which has strangled so many false pretensions. 
 
 The largest actual girth I have ever found at five feet from the ground is in 
 the great elm lying a stone's throw or two north of the main road (if my points 
 of compass are right) in Springfield. But this has much the appearance of hav- 
 ing been formed by the union of two trunks growing side by side. 
 
 The West-Springfield elm and one upon Northampton meadows belong also 
 to the first class of trees. 
 
 There is a noble old wreck of an elm at Hatfield, which used to spread its 
 claws out over a circumference of thirty-five feet or more before they covered 
 the foot of its bole up with earth. This is the American elm most like an oak 
 of any I have ever seen. 
 
 What makes a first-class elm? — Wh)* - , size, in the first place, and chiefly. 
 Anything over twenty feet of clear girth, five feet above the ground and with a 
 spread of branches a hundred feet across, may claim that title, according to my 
 scale. All of them, with the questionable exception of the Springfield tree 
 above referred to, stop, so far as my experience goes, at about twenty-two or 
 twenty-three feet of girth and a hundred and twenty of spread. 
 
 Elms of the second class, generally ranging from fourteen to eighteen feet, 
 are comparatively common. The queen of them all is that glorious tree near 
 one of the churches in Springfield. Beautiful and stately she is beyond all 
 praise. The "great tree " on Boston common comes in the second rank, as 
 does the one at Cohasset, which used to have, and probably has still, a head as 
 round as an apple-tree, and that at Newburyport, with scores of others which 
 might be mentioned. These last two have perhaps been over-celebrated. Both,, 
 however, are pleasing vegetables. The poor old Pittsfield elm lives on its past 
 reputation. A wig of false leaves is indispensable to make it presentable. 
 
 Go out with me into that walk which we call the Mall, and look at the Eng- 
 lish and American elms. The American elm is tall, graceful, slender-sprayed, 
 and drooping as if from languor. The English elm is compact, robust, holds its 
 branches up,and carries its leaves for weeks longer than our own native tree. 
 
2 68 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 Is this typical of the creative force on the two sides of the ocean, or not? 
 Nothing but a careful comparison through the whole realm of life can answer 
 this question. 
 
 There is a parallelism without identity in the animal and vegetable life of the 
 two continents, which favors the task of comparison in an extraordinary man- 
 ner. Just as we have two trees alike in many ways, yet not the same, both 
 elms, yet easily distinguishable, just so we have a complete flora and a fauna, 
 which, parting from the same ideal, embody it with various modifications. 
 
 I have something more to say about trees. I have brought down this slice 
 of hemlock to show you. Tree blew down in my woods (that were) in 1852. 
 Twelve feet and a half round, fair girth; — nine feet, where I got my section, 
 higher up. This is a wedge, going to the centre, of the general shape of a slice 
 of apple pie in a large and not opulent family. Length, about eighteen inches. 
 
 1 have studied the growth of this tree by its rings, and it is curious. Three 
 hundred and forty-two rings. Started, therefore, about 15 10. The thickness 
 of the rings tells the rate at which it grew. For five or six years the rate was 
 slow, — then rapid for twenty years. A little before the year 1550 it began to 
 grow very slowly, and so continued for about seventy years. In 1620 it took a 
 new start and grew fast until 17 14, then for the most part slowly until 1786, 
 when it started again and grew pretty well and uniformly until within the last 
 dozen years, when it seems to have got on sluggishly. 
 
 Look here. Here are some human lives laid down against the periods of its 
 growth, to which they corresponded. This is Shakespeare's. The tree was 
 seven inches in diameter when he was born ; ten inches when he died. A little 
 less than ten inches when Milton was born ; seventeen when he died. Then 
 comes a long interval, and this thread marks out Johnson's life, during which 
 the tree increased from twenty-two to twenty-nine inches in diameter. Here is 
 the span of Napoleon's career; — the tree doesn't seem to have minded it. 
 
 I never saw the man yet who was not startled at looking on this section. I 
 have seen many wooden preachers, — never one like this. How much more 
 striking would be the calendar counted on the rings of one of those awful trees 
 which were standing when Christ was on earth, and where that brief mortal 
 life is chronicled with the stolid apathy of vegetable being, which remembers 
 all human history as a thing of yesterday in its own dateless existence ! 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 The people of ancient Greece believed that in every tree dwelt a protecting 
 nymph, or dryad. These dryads were thought to perish with the trees which had 
 been their abodes, and with which they had come into existence. To willfully 
 destroy a tree was, therefore, an impious act, and was often severely punished. 
 
 Is there not a soul beyond utterance, half nymph, half child, in those delicate 
 petals which glow and breathe about the centres of deep color? 
 
 George Eliot. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 269 
 
 CLEMATIS. 
 
 WHERE the woodland streamlets flow, 
 Gushing down a rocky bed, 
 Where the tasselled alders grow, 
 
 Lightly meeting overhead, 
 When the fullest August days 
 
 Give the richness that they know, 
 Then the wild clematis comes, 
 With her wealth of tangled blooms, 
 Reaching up and drooping low. 
 
 But when Autumn days are here, 
 
 And the woods of Autumn burn, 
 Then her leaves are black and sere 
 
 Quick with early frosts to turn ! 
 As the golden Summer dies, 
 So her silky green has fled, 
 
 And the smoky clusters rise 
 As from fires of sacrifice, — 
 Sacred incense to the dead. 
 
 Dora Read Goodai.e. 
 
 WHAT ROBIN TOLD. 
 
 HOW do the robins build their nests ? 
 Robin Redbreast told me. 
 First a wisp of amber hay 
 In a pretty round they lay, 
 Then some shreds of downy floss, 
 Feathers, too, and bits of moss, 
 Woven with a sweet, sweet song, 
 This way, that way, and across, * 
 That's what robin told me. 
 
 Where do the robins hide their nests? 
 
 Robin Redbreast told me. 
 Up among the leaves so deep, 
 Where the sunbeams rarely creep ; 
 Long before the winds are cold, 
 Long before the leaves are gold, 
 Bright-eyed stars will peep, and see 
 Baby robins, one, two, three ; 
 
 That's what robin told me. 
 
 Geo. Cooper. 
 
 ROSE. 
 
 WHITE with the whiteness of the snow, 
 Pink with the faintest rosy glow, 
 They blossom on their sprays ; 
 They glad the borders with their bloom, 
 And sweeten with their rich perfume 
 The mossy garden-ways. 
 
 The dew that from their brimming leaves. 
 Drips down, the mignonette receives, 
 
 And sweeter grows thereby ; 
 The tall June lilies stand anear, 
 In raiment white and gold, and here 
 
 The purple pansies lie. 
 
 THE SWEET RED ROSE. 
 
 u 
 
 (^OOD MORROW, little rose-bush, 
 J Now prithee, tell me true, 
 To be as sweet as a red rose 
 What must a body do ? " 
 
 " To be as sweet as a red rose, 
 A little girl like you 
 Just grows, and grows, and grows, 
 And that's what she must do." 
 Joel Stacy. 
 
2 JO ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 SONG TO THE TREES. 
 
 MAY BE ARRANGED FOR A CLASS OF SIX PUPILS. 
 I. 
 
 HAIL to the trees ! 
 Patient and generous, mothers of mankind, 
 Arching the hills, the minstrels of the wind, 
 Spring's glorious flowers, and summer's balmy tents, 
 A sharer in man's free and happier sense, 
 From early blossom till the north wind calls 
 Its drowsy sprites from beech-hid waterfalls, 
 The trees bless all, and then, brown-mantled, stand 
 The sturdy prophets of a golden land. 
 
 n. 
 Eden was clothed in trees ; their glossy leaves 
 Gave raiment, food, and shelter ; 'neath their eaves 
 Dripping with ruby dew the flow'rets rose 
 To follow man from Eden to his woes. 
 The silver rill crept fragrant thickets through, 
 The air was rich with life, a violet hue 
 Tangling with sunshine lit the waving scene, 
 'Twas heaven, tree-born, tree-lulled, enwreathed in green. 
 
 in. 
 Where trees are not, behold the deserts swoon 
 Beneath the brazen sun and mocking moon. 
 Where trees are not, the tawny torrent leaps, 
 A brawling savage from the crumbling steeps, 
 Where once the ferns their gentle branches waved 
 And tender lilies in the crystal laved ; 
 A brawling savage, plundering in a night, 
 The fields it once strayed through a streamlet bright. 
 
 IV. 
 
 What gardeners like the trees? Their loving care 
 The daintiest blooms can deftly plant and rear. 
 How smilingly with outstretched boughs they stand 
 To shade the flowers too fragile for man's hand ! 
 With scented leaves, crisp, ripened, nay, not dead, 
 They tuck the wild flowers in their moss-rimmed bed. 
 The forest nook outvies the touch of art, 
 The heart of man loves not like the oak's heart. 
 
 v. 
 O whispering trees, companions, sages, friends, 
 No change in you, whatever friendship ends ; 
 No deed of yours the Eden link e'er broke ; 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2 7 1 
 
 
 Bared is your head to ward the lightning's stroke ! 
 You fed the infant man, and blessed his cot 
 Hewed from your grain ; without you he were not; 
 The hand that planned you planned the future too. 
 Shall we distrust it, knowing such as you ? 
 
 VI. 
 
 And when comes Eden back ? The trees are here, 
 In all their olden beauty and glad cheer. 
 Eden but waits the lifting of the night, 
 For man to know the true and will the right. 
 Whatever creed may find in hate a birth, 
 One of the heavens is this teeming earth ; 
 '• Of all its gifts but innocence restore, 
 And Eden," sigh the trees, "is at your door." 
 
 Joseph W. Miller. 
 
 This poem was written expressly for Cincinnati " Arbor Day," 1882. 
 
 THE RIVER'S SUPPLICATION. 
 
 NOW saucy Phoebus' scorching beams, 
 In flaming summer pride, 
 Dry-withering waste my foamy streams, 
 And drink my crystal tide. 
 
 Would then, my noble master please, 
 To grant my highest wishes, 
 
 He'll shade my banks wi'tow'ring trees 
 And bonnie spreading bushes. 
 
 Let lofty firs and ashes cool, 
 
 My lowly banks o'erspread, 
 And view, deep bending in the pool, 
 
 Their shadows' wat'ry bed. 
 
 Let fragrant birks, in woodbines drest, 
 
 My craggy cliffs adorn ; 
 And, for the little songster's nest, 
 
 The close embow'ring: thorn. 
 
 Burns. 
 
 Where fall the tears of love the rose appears, 
 
 And where the ground is bright with friendship's tears, 
 
 Forget-me-nots, and violets heavenly blue, 
 
 Spring glittering with the cheerful drops like dew. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
272 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 CALIFORNIA'S GIANT TREES. 
 
 THE great trees of California must be classed among the wonders of the 
 world. Trees four hundred and fifty feet high, and forty feet in diameter 
 must be beheld with amazement, for nowhere else upon the face of the earth 
 are found such tree-monsters. Many have journeyed across the ocean, and for 
 thousands of miles by land, to gaze upon these huge monarchs as they rear 
 their lofty heads into the clouds. 
 
 From "The New West" we gather the following information regarding these 
 wonderful trees : 
 
 "They were discovered in 1852, and named by Endlicher, in honor of an 
 Indian chief of the Cherokees. They are limited in range, being confined to 
 California, and grow entirely in groups. Of these groups there, are eight — or 
 nine if the Mariposa be considered as two. 
 
 " The Calaveras group is in the county of the same name, near the crossing 
 of the Sierras by Silver Mountain Pass. The belt of trees is three thousand 
 two hundred by seven hundred feet, and in that space are ninety-two of the 
 monarchs. 
 
 " Here under the shade is one of California's pet retreats. There is one fallen 
 monster, which must have stood four hundred and fifty feet in the air, and had 
 a diameter of forty feet. Another engaged the efforts of five men for twenty- 
 five days in cutting, and on the level surface of the stump thirty-two dancers 
 find ample room, Old Goliah shows the marks of a fire, that, according to 
 surrounding trees untouched, must have raged a thousand years ago. 
 
 "The diameter of the largest is thirty-three feet ; the circumference of the 
 largest, five feet above the ground, sixty-one feet. This is the only one more 
 than sixty feet in circumference. 
 
 " The Stanislaus group, five miles distant, contains seven or eight hundred 
 trees nearly as remarkable. Crane Flat has those boasting a diameter of 
 twenty-three feet, and a circumference of fifty-seven feet. The Mariposa 
 group, which generally divides honors with Calaveras, is situated sixteen miles 
 south of the Lower Hotel in Yosemite. 
 
 "The same wise foresight which gave Yosemite to the State, gave Mariposa 
 to be held in perpetuity. The grant is two miles square. It has been improved 
 and made of easy access. The Tule-River groups were the last discovered, 
 being found in 1867. While Calaveras and Mariposa lead in point of being 
 known, the others are worthy any reasonable expenditure of time and money. 
 
 "Gazing on a mountain there comes no thought that it has been a witness to 
 the passing events of the ages. But these trees have shaded races dead for 
 hundreds of years. They live, and seem almost possessed of minds ; and when 
 those who now rest under their branches are dust, they will still live, and 
 future generations may conjecture who has seen them in ages gone. They 
 sprouted before the Christian era dawned, and unconcerned they grew, while 
 nations rose and fell." 
 
 Another writer who once sat beneath the shade of these forest monarchs, 
 remarks : 
 
TUNNEL THROUGH WAWONA " DIAMETER 27 FEET. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 273 
 
 "Wild calculations have been made of the ages of the larger of these trees; 
 but one of the oldest in the Calaveras grove being cut down and the rings of 
 the wood counted, its age proved to be one thousand three hundred years; and 
 probably none now upon the ground date back farther than the Christian era. 
 They began with our modern civilization ; they were just sprouting when the 
 star of Bethlehem rose and stood for a sign of its origin ; they have been 
 ripening in beauty and power through these nineteen centuries ; and they stand 
 forth now a type of the majesty and grace of Him with whose life they are 
 coeval. Certainly they are chief among the natural curiosities and marvels of 
 Western America, of the known world; and though not to be compared, in the 
 impressions they make and the emotions they arouse, to the great rock scenery 
 of the Yosemite, which inevitably carries the spectator up to the Infinite 
 Creator and Father of all, they do stand for all that has been claimed for them 
 in wonderful greatness and majestic beauty." 
 
 So much larger are these immense trees than those we ordinarily see, that a 
 comparison is about the only way in which we can correctly measure them. 
 Shortly after they were discovered, the hollow trunk of one of them was for- 
 warded to New York, where it was converted into a grocery store. 
 
 In one of these groups of trees a stage road has been cut under the trunk 
 through the roots, and immense coaches, drawn hy six horses, pass directly 
 under the old giant. 
 
 One of the original hotels, known as the "Hotel de Redwood," consisted at 
 one time of five hollow trees. One served as an office and bar-room, another 
 for the proprietor's family, and dining-room, and the remainder were used as 
 lodgings. 
 
 A pioneer set up house-keeping in the hollow trunk of one of these trees. 
 His family had room enough, and there was no trouble about lathing and 
 plastering. A hollow tree thirty to forty feet in diameter would make several 
 rooms of convenient size, and quite large enough for a numerous family. 
 
 We have known men upon whose grounds were old, magnificent trees of 
 centuries growth, lifted up into the air with vast breadth, and full of twilight 
 at midday — who cut down all these mighty monarchs and cleared the ground 
 bare ; and then when the desolation was completed and the fierce summer sun 
 
 flZt 
 
 gazed full into their faces with its fire, they besought themselves of shade, and 
 forthwith set out a generation of thin, shadowless sticks. Such folly is theirs 
 who refuse the tree of life — the shadow of the Almighty — and sit instead 
 under feeble trees of their own planting, whose tops will never be broad enough 
 to shield them, and whose boughs will never discourse to them the music of 
 the air. 
 
 Beecher. 
 
 It never rains roses : when we want — 
 
 To have more roses we must plant more trees. 
 
 13 George Eliot. 
 
2 74 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 ODE TO THE TREES. 
 
 0, WHO is there within whose heart 
 The love of noble manhood dwells, 
 Who feels the thrill of pleasure start 
 When other tongues the story tells 
 
 Of deeds sublime? with true eye sees 
 
 The beautiful in art and thought — 
 Dares stand before God's stately trees, 
 
 Declaring that he loves them not ? 
 
 Companions of our childhood days ! 
 
 Companions still, though grown we be ! 
 Still through thy leaves the light breeze strays, 
 
 Whispering the same old songs to me. 
 
 ^ % ^ 5fc * * 
 
 Dear forest ! down thy long aisles dim 
 Soft sweeps the zephyr's light caress ; 
 
 Worthy indeed art thou of Him 
 
 Who made thee in thy loveliness. 
 
 Long may thy graceful branches wave, 
 
 Piercing with pride the balmy air ; 
 Harm ne'er would come if I could save — 
 
 Fit objects of our love and care. 
 
 But though erect each noble form, 
 
 As year by year rolls swift along, 
 Thou too, like man, must face the storm, 
 
 And fall — or live to be more strong. 
 
 Forever upward, day by day, 
 
 Patient thy growing branches turn; 
 Nearer the heavens each year ahvay — 
 
 May we the simple lesson learn — 
 
 Though few our years or many be, 
 
 It matters not the number given, 
 If we can feel that, like the tree, 
 
 Each year hath found us nearer heaven. 
 
 Maggie May Welsh, Lancaster, 0. 
 
 Written for Cincinnati " Arbor Day " Celebration. 
 
 To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
 Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2 jr 
 
 Arranged for the "Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 FAMOUS AND CURIOUS TREES. 
 
 The Cedars of Mount Lebanon are, perhaps, the most renowned and the best 
 known monuments in the world. Religion, poetry and history have all united 
 to make them famous. There are about four hundred of these trees, disposed 
 in nine groups, now growing on Mount Lebanon. They are of various sizes, 
 ranging up to over forty feet in girth. 
 
 A few miles out of the city of Mexico stands a gnarled old Cypress, called the 
 tree of Triste Noche. It was under this tree that Cortez sat and wept on that 
 memorable Triste Noche when driven from the Mexican capital by the Indians. 
 
 Another interesting tree to be seen in Mexico is found at Chapultepec, that 
 delightful summer resort of the Mexican rulers from the time of the Monte- 
 zumas. The tree in question stands a few feet from the entrance way, and is 
 draped with the lovely Spanish moss. It is also a Cypress of immense size, so 
 large is it that a party of thirteen could just reach around it. It is known as 
 the tree of Montezuma, and no doubt he often sat under its shade when rusti- 
 cating in this lovely spot. 
 
 Sir Philip Sidney's Oak at Penshurst, which was planted at his birth ; The 
 Abbot's Oak, and William the Conqueror's Oak at Windsor Park, are famous 
 trees in English history. 
 
 But beside historical trees there are many others that attract our attention 
 from their great size or curious properties. Among the former are the wonder- 
 ful trees of California, some of which are from three to five hundred feet in 
 height and twenty to twenty-five feet in diameter. A section of one of these 
 trees was at onetime exhibited in San Francisco, in which was a room carpeted, 
 and containing a piano and seats for forty people; a hundred and forty children 
 once filled the room without crowding. 
 
 Among curious trees may be mentioned the Cow tree, or Palo de Vaca of the 
 Cordilleras, which grows at a height of three thousand feet above sea level. 
 It is~a lofty tree with laurel-like leaves, and though receiving no moisture for 
 seven months of the year, when its trunk is tapped a bountiful stream of milk 
 bursts forth. It flows most freely at sunrise, when the natives may be seen 
 coming from all directions with pans and pails to catch the milk, which is said 
 to have a pleasant, sweet taste, but becomes thick and yellow in a short time 
 and soon turns into cheese. 
 
 Then there is the Bread Fruit tree, one of the most curious as well as useful 
 trees of the Pacific Islands. The fruit, which is about the size of a Cocoanut, 
 should be gathered before it is ripe, and be baked like hoe-cake. When prop- 
 erly cooked it resembles and tastes like good wheat bread. 
 
 Another very curious tree is the Candle-nut tree, of the South Sea Islands, 
 the fruit of which is heart-shaped and about the size of a walnut. From the 
 fruit is obtained an oil used both for food and light. The natives of the Society 
 Islands remove the shell and slightly bake the kernels, which they string on 
 rushes and keep to be used as torches. Five or six in a Screw Pine leaf are 
 said to give a brilliant light. 
 
2 76 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 T 
 
 WHEN THE APPLE BLOSSOMS STIR. 
 
 HE buds in the tree's heart safely were folded away, 
 Awaiting in dreamy quiet the coming of May, 
 
 When one little bud roused gently and pondered awhile, — 
 '« It's dark, and no one would see me," it said with a smile. 
 
 '" If I before all the others could bloom first in May, 
 And so be the only blossom, if but for a day, 
 
 How the world would welcome my coming, — the first little flower, - 
 'T will surely be worth the trouble, if but for an hour." 
 
 Close to the light it crept softly, and waited till Spring, 
 With her magic fingers, the door wide open should fling. 
 
 Spring came, the bud slipped out softly and opened its eyes 
 To catch the first loving welcome ; but saw with surprise. 
 
 That swift through the open doorway, lo, others had burst ! 
 For thousands of little white blossoms had thought to be first." 
 
 St. Nicholas. " Jack-in-the-Pulpit, May, i! 
 
 MAY. 
 
 MAY is here ! 
 I know there's a blossom somewhere near, 
 For the south wind tosses into my room 
 A hint of summer — a vague perfume 
 It has pilfered somewhere (I cannot tell 
 Whether from pansy or pimpernel), 
 But it sets me dreaming of birds and bees 
 And the odorous snow-storms of apple trees 
 Of roses sweet by the garden wall, 
 And milk-white lilies, stately and tall; 
 Of clover red in the morning sun, 
 And withered and dead when the day is done ; 
 Of the song that the stalwart mower sings, 
 Of gladness, and beauty, and all sweet things 
 That summer brings. 
 
 Eben E. Rexford. 
 
 What should I tell you more of it? 
 
 There are so many trees yet, 
 
 That I should all encumbered be 
 
 Ere I had reckoned every tree. Chaucer. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 277 
 
 BIRDS' NESTS. 
 
 SUITABLE FOR CLASS EXERCISE BY YOUNG PUPILS. 
 
 THE skylark's nest among the grass 
 And waving corn is found; 
 The robin's on a shady bank, 
 
 With oak leaves strewed around. 
 
 Rooks build together in a wood, 
 
 And often disagree; 
 The owl will build inside a barn 
 
 Or in a hollow tree. 
 
 The wren builds in an ivied thorn 
 
 Or old and ruined wall; 
 The mossy nest, so covered in, 
 
 You scarce can see at all. 
 
 The martins build their nests, of clay, 
 In rows beneath the eaves; 
 
 While silvery lichens, moss, and hair 
 The chaffinch interweaves. 
 
 The cuckoo makes no nest at all, 
 
 But through the wood she strays 
 
 Until she find one snug and warm, 
 And there her eggs she lays. 
 
 The sparrow has a nest of hay, 
 With feathers warmly lined; 
 
 The ring-dove's careless nest of sticks 
 On lofty trees we find. 
 
 The blackbird's nest, of grass and mud, 
 In bush and bank is found; 
 
 The lapwing's darkly spotted eggs 
 Are laid upon the ground. 
 
 The magpie's nest is girt with thorns 
 
 In leafless tree or hedge; 
 The wild duck and the water-hen 
 
 Build by the water's edge. 
 
 Birds build their nests from year to year, 
 According to their kind, — 
 
 Some very neat and beautiful, 
 Some easily designed. 
 
 The habits of each little bird, 
 
 And all its patient skill, • 
 Are surely taught by God Himself 
 
 And ordered by His will. 
 
 Written for the " Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 'NEATH THE COTTON-WOOD TREES. 
 
 LET one who sips life's tears with strange delight, 
 And finds in sobs and sighs life's harmony, 
 Go out beneath the cotton-wood trees at night 
 
 And there repent the laughter of the day; 
 Then listen to the rustling of the leaves, 
 Like steady rain-fall from the homestead eaves, 
 And listening, weep and pray ! 
 But on the morrow, hie away ! 
 It is not well to dwell there all the dreary while, 
 To-night we weep and pray, to-morrow toil and smile. 
 While the cotton-woods weep and sway 
 All the night and all the day. 
 
 Mrs. B. C. Rude. 
 Sodus, N. Y. 
 
278 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE LITTLE PINE TREE. 
 
 ONCE a little Pine tree, 
 In the forest ways, 
 Sadly sighed and murmured, 
 Thro' the summer days. 
 " I am clad in needles — 
 
 Hateful things ! " — he cried ; 
 "Ail the trees about me 
 
 Laugh in scornful pride. 
 Broad their leaves and fair to see ; 
 Worthless needles cover me. 
 
 " Ah, could I have chosen, 
 
 Then, instead of these, 
 Shining leaves should crown me, 
 
 Shaming all the trees. 
 Broad as theirs and brighter, 
 
 Dazzling to behold ; 
 All of gleaming silver — 
 
 Nay, of burnished gold. 
 Then the rest would weep and sigh 
 None would be so fine as I." 
 
 Slept the little Pine tree 
 
 When the night came down, 
 While the leaves he wished for 
 
 Budded on his crown. 
 All the forest wondered, 
 
 At the dawn, to see 
 What a golden fortune 
 
 Decked this little tree. 
 Then he sang and laughed aloud ; 
 Glad was he and very proud. 
 
 Foolish little Pine tree ! 
 
 At the close of day, 
 Thro' the gloomy twilight, 
 
 Came a thief that way. 
 Soon the treasure vanished ; 
 
 Sighed the Pine, " Alas ! 
 Would that I had chosen 
 
 Leaves of crystal glass." 
 Long and bitterly he wept. 
 But with night again he slept. 
 St. Nicholas, May, 18S9. 
 
 Gladly in the dawning 
 
 Did he wake to find 
 That the gentle fairies 
 
 Had again been kind. 
 How his blazing crystals 
 
 Lit the morning air ! 
 Never had the forest 
 
 Seen a sight so fair. 
 Then a driving storm did pass ; 
 All his leaves were shattered glass. 
 
 Humbly said the Pine tree, 
 
 " I have learned 't is best 
 Not to wish for fortunes 
 
 Fairer than the rest. 
 Glad were I, and thankful, 
 
 If I might be seen, 
 Like'the trees about me, 
 
 Clad in tender green." 
 Once again he slumbered, sad ; 
 Once again his wish he had. 
 
 Broad his leaves and fragrant, 
 
 Rich were they and fine, 
 Till a goat at noon-da}' 
 
 Halted there to dine. 
 Then her kids came skipping 
 
 Round the fated tree ; 
 All his leaves could scarcely 
 
 Make a meal for three. . 
 Every tender bud was nipt, 
 Every branch and twig was stript. 
 
 Then the wretched Pine tree 
 
 Cried in deep despair, 
 ' Would I had my needles ; 
 
 They were green and fair. 
 Never would I change them," 
 
 Sighed the little tree ; 
 " Just as nature gave them 
 
 The)' were the best for me." 
 So he slept, and waked, and found 
 All his needles safe and sound ! 
 
 EUDORA S. BUMSTEAD. 
 
 When our wide woods and mighty lawns 
 Bloom to the April skies, 
 
 The earth has no more gorgeous sight 
 To show to human eyes. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 2 79 
 
 THE FLOWER OF THE DESERT. 
 
 Who does not recollect the exultation of Valiant over a flower in the torrid wastes 
 of Africa? The affecting mention of the influence of a flower upon the mind, by Mungo 
 Park, in a time of suffering and despondency, in the heart of the same savage country, 
 is familiar to every one." — Hewitt's Book of the Seasons. 
 
 WHY art thou thus in thy beauty cast, " Yes ! dews more sweet than ever fell 
 
 O lonely, loneliest flower ! O'er island of the blest 
 
 Where the sound of song hath never passed Were shaken forth, from its purple bell. 
 
 From human hearth or bower? On a suffering human breast. 
 
 I pity thee, for thy heart of love, " A wanderer came, as a stricken deer, 
 
 For that glowing heart, that fain O'er the waste of burning sand, 
 
 Would breathe out joy with each wind to rove He bore the wound of an Arab spear, 
 In vain, lost thing ! in vain ! He fled from a ruthless band. 
 
 I pity thee, for thy wasted bloom, 
 For thy glory's fleeting hour, 
 
 For the desert place, thy living tomb — 
 O, lonely, loneliest flower ! 
 
 "And dreams of home in a troubled tide 
 Swept o'er his darkening eye, 
 As he lay down by the fountain side, 
 In his mute despair to die. 
 
 I said — but a low voice made reply, 
 
 " Lament not for the flower ! 
 Though its blossoms all unmarked must die, 
 The}'- have had a glorious dower. 
 
 "Though it bloom afar from the minstrel's 
 way, 
 And the paths where lovers tread ; 
 Yet strength and hope, like an inborn day, 
 By its odors have been shed. 
 
 But his glance was caught by the desert's 
 flower, 
 
 The precious boon of Heaven ; 
 And sudden hope, like a vernal shower, 
 
 To his fainting heart was given. 
 
 For the bright flower spoke of One above — 
 Of the presence felt to brood, 
 
 With a spirit of pervading love, 
 O'er the wildest solitude. 
 
 O, the seed was thrown those wastes among 
 In a blessed and gracious hour, 
 
 For the lorn rose in heart made strong, 
 By the lonely, loneliest flower ! " 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 FAIR TREE! 
 
 Fair tree ! for thy delightful shade 
 Tis just that some return be made ; 
 Sure some return is due from me 
 To thy cool shadows and to thee. 
 When thou to birds dost shelter give, 
 Thou music dost from them receive ; 
 If travelers beneath thee stay 
 
 Till storms have worn themselves away, 
 That time in praising thee they spend, 
 And thy protecting power commend ; 
 The shepherd here from scorching freed, 
 Tunes to thy dancing leaves his reed, 
 Whilst his loved nymph in thanks bestows 
 Her flowery chaplets on her boughs. 
 
 Lady Winchelsea. — The Tree. 
 
2 8o 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE DANCE OF THE DAISIES. 
 
 SO my pretty flower-folk, you 
 Are in a mighty flutter ; 
 All your nurse, the wind, can do, 
 Is to scold and mutter. 
 
 " We intend to have a ball 
 
 (That's why we are fretting); 
 And our neighbor-flowers have all 
 Fallen to regretting. 
 
 " Man)' a butterfly we send 
 Far across the clover. 
 (There '11 be wings enough to mend 
 When the trouble's over.) 
 
 " Many a butterfly comes home 
 
 Torn with thorns and blighted, 
 Just to say they cannot come, — 
 They whom we've invited. 
 
 " Yes, the roses and the rest 
 
 Of the high-born beauties 
 Are ' engaged,' of course, and pressed 
 With their stately duties. 
 
 "The)' 're at garden-parties seen ; 
 
 They 're at court presented : 
 They look prettier than the Queen ! 
 
 (Strange that 's not resented.) 
 St. Nicholas, August, 1SS9. 
 
 ' Peasant-flowers they call us — we 
 
 Whose high lineage you know — 
 We, the ox-eyed children (see !) 
 Of Olympian Juno." 
 
 (Here the daisies all made eyes ! 
 
 And they looked most splendid, 
 As they thought about the skies, 
 
 Whence they were descended.) 
 
 ' In our saintly island (hush !) 
 Never crawls a viper, 
 Ho, there, Brown-coat ! that's the thrush: 
 He will be the piper. 
 
 ' In this Irish island, oh, 
 
 We will stand together. 
 Let the royal roses go ; — 
 We don't care a feather. 
 
 Strike up, thrush, and play as though 
 All the stars were dancing. 
 
 So they are ! And — here we go — 
 Isn't this entrancing?" 
 
 'Swaying, mist-white, to and fro, 
 Airily they chatter, 
 For a daisy dance, you know, 
 Is a pleasant matter. 
 
 Sarah M. B. Piatt. 
 
 HOW calm, how beautiful comes on 
 The stilly hour, when storms are gone; 
 When warring winds have died away, 
 And clouds, beneath the glancing ray, 
 Melt off, and leave the land and sea 
 Sleeping in bright tranquillity, — 
 Fresh as if Day again were born, 
 Again upon the lap of Morn ! 
 When the light blossoms, rudely torn 
 And scattered at the whirlwind's will, 
 Hang floating in the pure air still, 
 Filling it all with precious balm, 
 
 In gratitude for this sweet calm ; 
 And every drop the thunder-showers 
 Have left upon the grass and flowers 
 Sparkles, as 'twere that lightning-gem 
 Whose liquid flame is born of them ! 
 
 When, 'stead of one unchanging breeze, 
 There blow a thousand gentle airs, 
 And each a different perfume bears, — 
 
 As if the loveliest plants and trees 
 Had vassal breezes of their own 
 To watch and wait on them alone, 
 And waft no other breath than theirs ! 
 
 Moore's Lalla Rookh. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 28l 
 
 A WALK IN SPRING. 
 
 IWANDER'D in a lonely glade, 
 Where, issuing from the forest shade, 
 A little mountain stream 
 Along the winding valley play'd, 
 Beneath the morning beam. 
 
 'T is sweet in solitude to hear 
 The earliest music of the year, 
 
 The Blackbird's loud wild note, 
 Or. from the wintry thicket drear, 
 
 The Thrush's stammering throat. 
 
 Light o'er the woods of dark brown oak In rustic solitude 'tis sweet 
 
 The west wind wreathed the hovering smoke, The earliest flowers of Spring to greet, — 
 
 From cottage roofs conceal'd, The violet from its tomb, 
 
 Below a rock abruptly broke. The strawberry, creeping at our feet, 
 
 In rosy light reveal'd. The sorrel's simple bloom. 
 
 'T was in the infancy of May, — 
 The uplands glow'd in green array, 
 
 While from the ranging eye 
 The lessening landscape stretched away, 
 
 To meet the bending sky. 
 
 Wherefore I love the walks of Spring, - 
 While still I hear new warblers sing 
 
 Fresh opening bells I see ; 
 Joy flits on every roving wing, 
 
 Hope' buds on every tree. 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 MIDSUMMER. 
 
 BEHOLD the flood-tide of the year, 
 The glad midsummer time, 
 When all things bright and fair are here 
 And earth is in its prime. 
 
 This lovely world, how strangely sweet 
 
 It is! how wondrous fair 
 The starr)- daisies at my feet ! 
 
 How fresh the summer air ! 
 
 In fresh green woods the laurel hides 
 Her blushing waxen bloom ; 
 
 And pink azaleas by the brook 
 Breathe spicy, faint perfume. 
 
 They bring a message home to me, 
 With tender meaning fraught : 
 
 The lowliest flower our Lord has made 
 Is worth a tender thought. 
 
 Wild roses by the dusty roads 
 Bud, blossom and decay, 
 
 Content to be for joy of it, 
 The pleasure of a day. 
 
 And each midsummer blossom-time 
 I learn the lessons o'er, — 
 
 This love of field, and flower, and vine, 
 And love of God the more. 
 
 Abbie F. Judd. 
 
 Hence lastly springs care of posterities 
 
 For things their kind would everlasting make 
 
 Hence is it that old men do plant young trees, 
 The fruit whereof another age shall take. 
 Sir J. Davies. 
 
 The birch, the myrtle, and the bay 
 Like friends did all embrace ; 
 
 And their large branches did display 
 To canopy the place. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
282 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 BRIAR-BLOOM. 
 
 THE wild azaleas sweeten all the woods, 
 The locust swings its garlands of perfume ; 
 But, sweetest of all sweets, to-day there broods 
 Above the slopes of green and golden gloom 
 The scent of briar-bloom. 
 
 Sweetest of sweets and fairest of all flowers 
 
 Among wealth of delicate blossoming, 
 The blackberry bramble creeps and hides, or towers 
 
 Above the budding shrubs, with clasp and cling 
 
 Bowering the realm of spring. 
 
 Roses are warmer with their passion red, 
 
 Lilies are queenlier with their hearts of snow, 
 
 Magnolia cups a heavier incense shed, 
 
 But when I would be tranced with sweet I go 
 Where the sharp briars grow. 
 
 Brave must the hand be, which would bear away 
 
 Their snowy length and dare the threatened doom, 
 
 Yet when is past my woodland holiday, 
 
 I can but smile at wounds and deck my room 
 With wreaths of briar-bloom. 
 
 Some souls I love are trimmed with flowers like these, 
 Recluse and shrinking from the broadest day, 
 
 And full of delicate fragrances — 
 
 Yet with keen pride to hold false friends at bay 
 
 And keep the world away. 
 
 Elizabeth Akers Allen. 
 
 ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM. 
 
 HERE are old trees, tall oaks, and gnarled pines, 
 That stream with gray-green mosses; here the ground 
 Was never trenched by spade, and flowers spring up 
 Unsown, and die ungathered. It is sweet 
 To linger here among the flitting birds 
 And leaping squirrels, wandering brooks, and winds 
 That shake the leaves, and scatter, as they pass, 
 A fragrance from the cedars, thickly set 
 With pale-blue berries. In these peaceful shades — 
 Peaceful, unpruned, immeasurably old — 
 My thoughts go up the long dim path of years, 
 Back to the earliest days of liberty. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Bryant. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 283 
 
 CALLING THEM UP. 
 
 " Q HALL I go and call them up — 
 
 O Snowdrop, daisy, buttercup ?" 
 Lisped the rain ; "they 've had a pleasant winter's nap." 
 
 Lightly to their doors it crept, 
 
 Listened while they soundly slept ; 
 Gently woke them with its rap-a-tap-a-tap ! 
 Quickly woke them with rap a-tap-a-tap ! 
 
 Soon their windows opened wide, — 
 Every thing astir inside ; 
 Shining heads came peeping out, in frill and cap; 
 " It was kind of you, dear rain," 
 Laughed the}'' all, ''to come again ; 
 We were waiting for your rap-a-tap-a-tap ! 
 Only waiting for your rap-a-tap-a-tap ! " 
 
 George Cooper. 
 
 THE OLIVE TREE. 
 
 THE palm — the vine — the cedar — each hath power 
 To bid fair Oriental shapes glance by ; 
 And each quick glistening ot the laurel bower 
 
 Wafts Grecian images o'er fancy's eye. 
 
 But thou, pale olive ! in thy branches lie 
 Far deeper spells than prophet grove of old 
 
 Might e'er enshrine : I could not hear thee sigh 
 To the wind's faintest whisper, nor behold 
 One shiver of thy leaves' dim, silvery green, 
 Without high thoughts and solemn of that scene 
 
 When, in the garden, the Redeemer prayed, — 
 When pale stars looked upon His fainting head, 
 And angels, ministering in silent dread, 
 
 Trembled, perchance, within thy trembling shade. 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 Spirits of fire, that brood not long, 
 But flash resentment back for wrong ; 
 And hearts, where, slow but deep, the seeds 
 Of vengeance ripen into deeds ; 
 Till, in some treacherous hour of calm, 
 They burst, like Zeilan's giant palm, 
 Whose buds fly open with a sound 
 That shakes the pigmy forests round ! 
 
 Moore's Lalla Rookh. 
 
284 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 AMONG THE TREES. 
 
 OH ye who love to overhang the springs, 
 And stand by running waters, ye whose boughs 
 Make beautiful the rocks o'er which they play, 
 Who pile with foliage the great hills, and rear 
 A paradise upon the lonely plain, 
 Trees of the forest, and the open field ! 
 Have ye no sense of being? Does the air, 
 The pure air, which I breathe with gladness, pass 
 In gushes o'er your delicate lungs, your leaves, 
 All unenjoyed ? When on your winter's sleep 
 The sun shines warm, have ye no dreams of spring? 
 And when the glorious spring-time comes at last, 
 Have ye no ]oy of all your bursting buds, 
 And fragrant blooms, and melody of birds 
 To which your young leaves shiver? Do ye strive 
 And wrestle with the wind, yet know it not ? 
 Feel ye no glory in 3'our strength, when he, 
 The exhausted blusterer, flies beyond the hills, 
 And leaves you stronger yet ? Or have ye not 
 A sense of loss when he has stripped your leaves, 
 Yet tender, and has splintered your fair boughs? 
 Does the loud bolt that smites you from the cloud 
 And rends you, fall unfelt ? Do there not run 
 Strange shudderings through your fibres when the ax 
 Is raised against you, and the shining blade 
 Deals blow on blow, until, with all their boughs, 
 Your summits waver and ye fall to earth ? 
 Know ye no sadness when the hurricane 
 Has swept the wood and snapped its sturdy stems 
 Asunder, or has wrenched, from out the soil, 
 The mightiest with their circles of strong roots, 
 And piled the ruin all along his path ? 
 
 Nay, doubt we not that under the rough rind, 
 In the green veins of these fair growths of earth, 
 There dwells a nature that receives delight 
 From all the gentle processes of life, 
 And shrinks from loss of being. Dim and faint 
 May be the sense of pleasure and of pain, 
 As in our dreams ; but, haply, real still. 
 
 For still 
 The February sunshine steeps your boughs 
 And tints the buds and swells the leaves within ; 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 235 
 
 While the song-sparrow, warbling from her perch, 
 
 Tells you that spring is near. The wind of May 
 
 Is sweet with breath of orchards, in whose boughs 
 
 The bees and every insect of the air 
 
 Make a perpetual murmur of delight. 
 
 And by whose flowers the humming-bird hangs poised 
 
 In air, and draws their sweets and darts away. 
 
 The linden, in the fervors of July, 
 
 Hums with a louder concert. When the wind 
 
 Sweeps the broad forest in its summer prime, 
 
 As when some master-hand exulting sweeps 
 
 The keys of some great organ, ye give forth 
 
 The music of the woodland depths, a hymn 
 
 Of gladness and of thanks. The hermit-thrush 
 
 Pipes his sweet note to make your arches ring; 
 
 The faithful robin, from the wayside elm, 
 
 Carols all day to cheer his sitting mate; 
 
 And when the autumn comes, the kings of earth, 
 
 In all .their majesty, are not arrayed 
 
 As ye are, clothing the broad mountain-side 
 
 And spotting the smooth vales with red and gold ; 
 
 While, swaying to the sudden breeze, ye fling 
 
 Your nuts to earth, and the brisk squirrel comes 
 
 To gather them, and barks with childish glee, 
 
 And scampers with them to his hollow oak. 
 
 Thus, as the seasons pass, ye keep alive 
 The cheerfulness of Nature, till in time 
 The constant misery which wrings the heart 
 Relents, and we rejoice with you again, 
 And glory in your beauty; till once more 
 We look with pleasure on your varnished leaves, 
 That gayly glance in sunshine, and can hear, 
 Delighted, the soft answer which your boughs 
 Utter in whispers to the babbling brook. 
 
 Ye have no history. I cannot know 
 Who, when the hillside trees were hewn away, 
 Haply two centuries since, bade spare this oak, 
 Leaning to shade, with his irregular arms, 
 Low-bent and long, the fount that from his roots 
 Slips through a bed of cresses toward the bay — 
 I know not who, but thank him that he left 
 The tree to flourish where the acorn fell, 
 And join these later days to that far time 
 While yet the Indian hunter drew the bow 
 
2 86 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 In the dim woods, and the white woodman first 
 Opened these fields to sunshine, turned the soil 
 And strewed the wheat. An unremembered Past 
 Broods, like a presence, mid the long gray boughs 
 Of this old tree, which has outlived so long 
 The flitting generations of mankind. 
 
 Ye have no history. I ask in vain 
 Who planted on the slope this lofty group 
 Of ancient pear-trees that with springtime burst 
 Into such breadth of bloom. One bears a scar 
 Where the quick lightning scored its trunk, yet still 
 It feels the breath of Spring, and every May 
 Is white with blossoms. Who it was that laid 
 Their infant roots in earth, and tenderly 
 Cherished the delicate sprays, I ask in vain, 
 Yet bless the unknown hand to which I owe 
 This annual festival of bees, these songs 
 Of birds within their leafy screen, these shouts 
 Of joy from children gathering up the fruit 
 Shaken in August from the willing boughs. 
 
 Ye that my hands have planted, or have spared, 
 Beside the way, or in the orchard-ground, 
 Or in the open meadow, ye whose boughs 
 With every summer spread a wider shade, 
 Whose herd in coming years shall lie at rest 
 Beneath your noontide shelter? who shall pluck 
 Your ripened fruit ? who grave, as was the wont 
 Of simple pastoral ages, on the rind 
 Of my smooth Beeches some beloved name ? 
 Idly I ask, yet ma)*- the eyes that look 
 Upon you, in }^our later, nobler growth, 
 Look also on a nobler age than ours; 
 An age when, in the eternal strife between 
 Evil and Good, the Power of Good shall win 
 A grander mastery. 
 
 * * * * * * * Bryant. 
 
 A man was lately tried at Aberdeen for obstructing a revenue officer; it un- 
 fortunately came out on the trial, that the prisoner had been guilty of planting 
 the Tree of Liberty, where no tree had ever grown before, and where Liberty 
 was not in the most flourishing state. The consequence was, a judgment, that 
 he should be publicly whipped, and banished the kingdom for fourteen years. 
 
 Thomas Paine, 1793. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 28 J 
 
 N' 
 
 BOLEHILL TREES. 
 
 A conspicuous plantation, encompassing a school-house and play-ground, on 
 a bleak eminence, at Barlow, in Derbyshire. 
 
 OW peace to his ashes who planted yon trees, 
 That welcome my wandering eye ! 
 In lofty luxuriance they wave with the breeze, 
 
 And resemble a grove in the sky. 
 On the brow of the mountain, uncultured and bleak, 
 
 They flourish in grandeur sublime, 
 Adorning its bald and majestical peak, 
 
 Like the lock on the forehead of Time. 
 
 A land-mark they rise; — to the stranger forlorn 
 
 All night on the wild heath delay 'd, 
 ' Tis rapture to spy the young beauties of morn 
 
 Unveiling behind their dark shade. 
 The homeward-bound husbandman joys to behold, 
 
 On the line of the gray evening scene, 
 Their branches yet gleaming with purple and gold, 
 
 And the sunset expiring between. 
 
 ******* 
 
 Then peace to his ashes who planted those trees! 
 
 Supreme o'er the landscape they rise, 
 With simple and lovely magnificence please 
 
 All bosoms, and gladden all eyes. 
 Nor marble, nor brass, could emblazen his fame 
 
 Like his own sylvan trophies, that wave 
 In graceful memorial, and whisper his name. 
 
 And scatter their leaves on his grave. 
 
 Ah ! thus, when I sleep in the desolate tomb, 
 
 May the laurels I planted endure. 
 On the mountain of high immortality bloom, 
 
 Midst lightning and tempest secure ! 
 Then ages unborn shall their verdure admire, 
 
 And nations sit under their shade, 
 While my spirit, in secret, shall move o'er my lyre, 
 
 Aloft in their branches display'd. 
 
 ¥ ^ + -f- ^ *z :-c 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 Amid them stood the tree of life, 
 
 High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit 
 
 Of vegetable gold. Milton's Paradise Lost. 
 
ARBOR DA V MAX UAL. 
 
 TREE BURIAL. 
 
 NEAR our south-western border, when a child 
 Dies in the cabin of an Indian wife, 
 She makes its funeral couch of delicate furs, 
 Blankets and bark, and binds it to the bough 
 Of some broad branching tree with leathern thongs 
 And sinews of the deer. A mother once 
 Wrought at this tender task, and murmured thus: 
 
 " Child of my love, I do not lay thee down 
 Among the chilly clods where never comes 
 The pleasant sunshine. There the greedy wolf 
 Might break into thy grave and tear thee thence, 
 And I should sorrow all my life. I make 
 Thy burial-place here, where the light of day 
 Shines round thee, and the airs that play among 
 The boughs shall rock thee. Here the morning sun, 
 Which woke thee once from sleep to smile on me, 
 Shall beam upon thy bed, and sweetly here 
 Shall lie the red light of the evening clouds 
 Which called thee once to slumber. Here the stars 
 Shall look upon thee — the bright stars of heaven 
 Which thou didst wonder at. Here too the birds, 
 Whose music thou didst love, shall sing to thee, 
 And near thee build their nests and rear their young 
 With none to scare them. Here the woodland flowers, 
 Whose opening in the spring-time thou didst greet 
 With shouts of joy, and which so well became 
 Thy pretty hands when thou didst gather them, 
 Shall spot the ground below thy little bed. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 The thorns which I reaped are of the tree 
 
 I planted, — they have torn me and I bleed ; 
 
 I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed. 
 
 Byron's Childe Harold. 
 
 " O, for a seat in some poetic nook 
 Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook." 
 
 Leigh Hunt. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 289 
 
 VOICES OF THE FOREST. 
 
 GUARDING the mountains around 
 Majestic the forests are standing, 
 Bright are their crested helms, 
 Dark is their armor of leaves ; 
 Filled with the breath of freedom 
 Each bosom subsiding, expanding, 
 Now like the ocean sinks, 
 Now like the ocean upheaves, 
 
 Planted firm on the rock, 
 With foreheads stern and defiant, 
 Loud they shouted to the winds, 
 Loud to the tempest they call ; 
 Naught but Olympian thunders, 
 That blasted Titan and Giant, 
 Them can uproot and o'erthrow, 
 Shaking the earth with their fall. 
 Longfellow's The Masque of Pandora. 
 
 WILD THORN BLOSSOMS. 
 
 DEEP within the tangled wildwood, 
 Where the tuneful thrushes sing, 
 And the dreaming pine trees whisper 
 
 In their sleep a tale of spring ; 
 Where the laughing brook goes leaping 
 
 Down the mountain's mossy stair, 
 There the wild white thorn is flinging 
 Its sweet fragrance everywhere. 
 
 Rough and rugged are its branches, 
 
 But its bloom is white as snow ; 
 And the roaming bees have found it, 
 
 In their wanderings to and fro ; 
 And they gather from its sweetness 
 
 Heavy freights the livelong day, 
 And go sailing homeward, singing 
 
 Their thanksgivings all the way. 
 
 All unheeded fall the blosoms, 
 
 Like sweet snowfiakes through the air, 
 And the summer marches onward 
 
 With its fragrance rich and rare ; 
 But the grateful bee remembers, 
 
 As he winds his mellow horn, 
 That the spring-time was made sweeter 
 
 By the blossoms of the thorn. 
 
 Julian S. Cutler. 
 
 ARBUTUS. 
 
 a 
 
 ARBUTUS, thou dost faintly swing 
 The subtle censer of the Spring. 
 I sip thy wine, I kiss thy lips, 
 I softly touch thy pinky tips, 
 More than I say thou art to me, 
 A past and still a joy to be ! 
 If e'er I stand of all bereft, 
 As they do stand whom Death has left, 
 A treasure dearer far than gold 
 Mine empty hands will seek and hold 
 19 
 
 The first arbutus of the Spring, 
 A simple thing, a little thing, 
 Yet incense-bearer to the King, 
 His tidings glad borne on its wing. 
 All my lost life 'twill backward bring. 
 And all the life before 'twill touch 
 With Spring's young glory, 'twill be 
 
 much, 
 How much ! Yet such a little thing, 
 The first arbutus of the Spring ! " 
 
290 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 A MAY MORNING. 
 
 OLADY, leave thy silken thread 
 And flowery tapestry ; 
 There's living roses on the bush, 
 
 And blossoms on the tree ; 
 Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand 
 
 Some random bud will meet ; 
 Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find 
 The daisy at thy feet. 
 
 'Tis like the birthday of the world, 
 
 When earth was here in bloom ; 
 The light is made of many dyes, 
 
 The air is all perfume ; 
 There's crimson buds, and white and blue 
 
 The very rainbow showers 
 Have turned to blossoms where they fell, 
 
 And sown the earth with flowers. 
 
 There's fair)' tulips in the east, 
 
 The garden of the sun ; 
 The very streams reflect the hues 
 
 And blossom as they run ; 
 While morn opes like a crimson rose, 
 
 Still wet with pearly showers ; 
 Then, lady, leave the silken thread 
 
 Thou twinest into flowers 
 
 PUT FLOWERS IN YOUR WINDOW. 
 
 u 
 
 PUT flowers in your window, friend, 
 And summer in your heart ; 
 The greenness of their mimic boughs 
 Is of the woods a part ; 
 The color of their tender bloom 
 Is love's own pleasing hue, 
 As surely as you smile on them, 
 They'll smile again on you. 
 
 Put flowers in your window, when 
 
 You sit in idle mood ; 
 
 For wholesome, mental aliment, 
 
 There is no cheaper food. 
 
 For love and hope and charity 
 
 Are in their censer shrined, 
 
 And shapes of loveliest thought grow out 
 
 The flower-loving mind." 
 
 Yes, I love the children of the woodlands, of the highlands and the lowlands. Espec- 
 ially those first heralds of spring that come forth with all her newness and dewy freshness, 
 that quickening of life that makes one's pulses bound. Yes, 
 
 " There is to me 
 A daintiness about these early flowers, 
 That touch me like poetry. They blow out 
 With such a simple loveliness among 
 The common herbs of pasture, and they breathe 
 Their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts 
 Whose beatings are too gentle for the world." 
 
 Mrs. G. W. Flanders. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 291 
 
 TREES OF HISTORY AND MYTHOLOGY. 
 
 YOUTH once rode into a forest, and asked of the trees: 
 
 A 
 
 " O, if ye have a singing leaf, The music of seas far away; 
 
 I pray you give it me." Only the Aspen pattered 
 
 But the trees all kept their counsel, With a sound like the growing rain, 
 
 They said neither yea or nay ; That fell fast and ever faster, 
 
 Only there sighed from the Pine tops Then faltered to silence again. 
 
 Tennyson tells us of the talking Oak, but to us, who are less fortunate in 
 poetic imagery, the trees are speechless ; if the birds understand the language 
 of rustling leaves, they keep it a secret from us, who would fain open and read 
 this page in nature's volume. 
 
 Sacred history is full of allusions to trees in their various stages of growth 
 and abundance. The first sin of our common mother was in partaking of the 
 forbidden fruit from the tree in the garden of Paradise. At the foot of Mount 
 Lebanon eight gigantic Cedars stand as the only representatives of the once 
 immense forests. The prophecy concerning them has come to pass, " They 
 shall be few that a child may count them." The Olive, the Fig and the Oak 
 are likewise often referred to in the sacred Scriptures. We read of the righteous 
 as representing a tree of life, and they are declared to be like a tree planted by 
 the rivers of water, while the wicked are likened to a Green Bay tree, and the 
 ungodly to an Oak whose leaf fadeth. The Green Bay tree is a species of 
 Laurel. Pliny collected and recorded the information and opinions concerning 
 it current in his time. It was held sacred to Apollo, and used as a symbol of 
 victory. It was used by the Romans to guard the gates of Caesar, and that 
 worn by Augustus and his successors had a miraculous history. The grove at 
 the Imperial villa having grown from a shoot sent by Livius Drusilla from 
 heaven. 
 
 Among the Indians of Brazil there is a tradition that the whole human race 
 sprang from a Palm tree. It has been a symbol of excellence for things good 
 and beautiful. Among the ancients it was an emblem of victory, and. as such, 
 was worn by the early Christian martyrs, and has been found sculptured on their 
 tombs. The Mohammedans venerate it. Certain trees, said to have been propa- 
 gated from some originally planted by the prophet's daughter, are held sacred 
 and the fruit sold at enormous prices. The day upon which Christ entered 
 Jerusalem, riding upon the colt of an ass, is called Palm Sunday, being the first 
 day of the Holy Week. In Europe real Palm branches are distributed among 
 the people. Goethe says : 
 
 " In Rome on Palm Sunday, 
 
 They have the true Palms, 
 The cardinals bow reverently 
 « And sing old psalms. 
 
 Elsewhere these songs are sung 'mid Olive branches ; more southern climes 
 must be content with the sad Willow. 
 
292 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 The books relating to the religion of Buddha were nearly all of them written, 
 upon the leaves of the Fan Palm, and by missionaries they have been used in 
 the place of paper. The noble aspect of this tree, together with its surpassing 
 utility, has caused it to be called "the prince of the vegetable kingdom," and 
 it has been immortalized in history, mythology and poetry. 
 
 A Cypress tree in Somma, Lombardy, is said to have been standing since 
 the time of Julius Caesar. Napoleon, in making a road over the Simplon, devi- 
 ated from a straight line, that he might not be obliged to cut it down. Cypress 
 wood is very enduring, and for this reason, no doubt, it was used for mummy 
 cases and statues. Pliny tells us, a statue of Jupiter carved from Cypress 
 wood remained standing for six hundred years. In Turkish cemeteries it is a, 
 rule to plant a tree of this variety at every interment. 
 
 Cypanissus, a beautiful youth, was transformed into a Cypress by Apollo,, 
 that he might grieve all the time. The Cypress is an emblem of mourning, 
 and Scott thus writes : 
 
 " When villagers my shroud bestrew 
 With Pansies, Rosemary and Rue, 
 Then, lady, weave a wreath for me, 
 And weave it of the Cypress tree." 
 
 There is a familiar legend about the Black Thorn, a species of the Plum. It 
 is said that Joseph, of Aramathea, planted his staff, that it grew, put forth its 
 blossoms every Christmas day afterward until it was destroyed by a Puritan 
 soldier, who was wounded by a splint from the tree and died from its effects. 
 
 Branches of the White Thorn were used for the nuptial chaplets of Athenian 
 brides, and a tree of this variety is still alive that was planted by Mary, Oueen 
 of Scots. 
 
 There is a tradition among the French peasantry that groans and cries issue 
 from the Hawthorn on Good Friday, doubtless arising from the superstition 
 that Christ's crown of thorns was made from this bush. 
 
 The legend that the cross of Jesus was made of Aspen wood, and hence its 
 leaves were doomed to tremble, has led an unknown poet to show his ignorance 
 of the true cause in the following lines : 
 
 "Ah, tremble, tremble, Aspen tree, 
 I need not ask thee why thou shakest, 
 For if, as holy legend saith, 
 On thee the Saviour bled to death, 
 No wonder, Aspen, that thou quakest, 
 And till in judgment all assemble, 
 Thy leaves, accursed, shall wail and tremble." 
 
 The real cause of the mobility depends on the fact that the leaf stalk of the 
 Poplar is flattened laterally, and even the slightest wind produces a motion. 
 Since this is so, we may be sure that the Aspen will continue to wail and trem- 
 ble, but not because its leaves are accursed. 
 
 There is an island in Lake Wetter, Scotland, upon which stood twelve majes- 
 tic Beach trees, called the twelve apostles. A jealous peasant cut one of them 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 2n . 
 
 down, thus effacing from the group the traitor, Judas, who, he declared, should 
 have no lot with the faithful. 
 
 In Latin myths, the Fig tree was held sacred to Bacchus, and employed in 
 religious ceremonies. A tree of this variety is said to have overshadowed 
 Romulus and Remus, the twin founders of Rome, in the wolf's cave. The 
 sacred Fig is chiefly planted in India as a religious object, being regarded as 
 sacred by both Brahmas and Buddhists. A gigantic tree of this variety, grow- 
 ing in Ceylon, is said to be one of the oldest trees in the world, and, if tradition 
 is to be trusted, it grew from a branch of the tree under which Gantama Buddha 
 became endued with divine powers, and has always been held in the highest 
 "veneration. 
 
 Vick's Magazine. F. L. SHELDON. 
 
 A TREE'S RECORD OF ITS LIFE. 
 
 IT is not known to every one that a tree keeps a record within its stem of the 
 character of each successive season since it began its growth. If a Peach 
 tree, for instance, be examined after it has been cut down, the ring of wood 
 formed in each year will show by its amount whether the summer of that year 
 was warm or dry, or otherwise favorable or adverse ; and by the condition of 
 the wood, the character of the winter will be denoted. Severe early frost will 
 leave a layer of soft, decaying wood ; and later frosts will be indicated by a 
 change of color, if nothing more. 
 
 If a summer has been so dry as to cause a total rest between the growths of 
 June and September, the annual ring for that year will be a double one, and 
 sometimes barely distinguishable as one, but liable to be taken, by a not very 
 close observer, for two different years' growth. 
 
 At a late meeting of the Botanical Society of Edinburgh, Sir Robert Christisun 
 gave the results of measurements of large trees of different species made annu- 
 ally on lines of girth marked permanently with paint. In the very unfavorable 
 season of 1879, the deficiency in summer temperature was nearly ten degrees. 
 In seven Oak trees, of different species, the deficiency in annual increase of 
 girth was ten per cent. In eleven other deciduous trees, it was forty-two per 
 cent ; and in seventeen Pines it was twenty per cent, different species of the 
 same family giving very nearly similar results. 
 
 Vick's Magazine. 
 
 Nearly all the tributaries of the upper Mississippi have lost one-half of their 
 former supply of water. Inundations in the spring are more frequent, while 
 now in the summer the depth of many of these rivers average hardly more 
 inches than could be measured by feet thirty years ago. The snow-fall is irreg- 
 ular, and the climate is subject to abrupt changes at all seasons of the year. 
 The Legislatures of the North-Western States are being roused to the fact 
 the forests must be preserved. 
 
294 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Arranged for the " Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 HISTORIC TREES. 
 
 THE following list includes some of the more prominent trees that have been 
 consecrated by the presence of eminent personages, or by some conspic- 
 uous event in the history of our country. 
 
 They all have a place in our national history, and are inseparable from it because 
 they were so consecrated. A knowledge of the events associated with their 
 memories cannot but engender patriotic emotions in the breast of every true 
 American citizen. 
 
 i. One of the best known trees in American history is the Charter Oak which 
 stood in Hartford, Conn., until 1856, when it was blown down. This tree once 
 preserved the written guarantee of the liberties of the then infant colony of 
 Connecticut. In 1687 Governor Andros, whom King James had sent across the 
 sea to be Governor of all New England, appeared before the Connecticut 
 Assembly, then in session in Hartford, and demanded the Colony's charter. 
 Tradition tells us that the charter was brought in and laid upon the table. In 
 an instant all lights were extinguished and the room was wrapped in total dark- 
 ness. Not a word was spoken. The candles were again lighted, but the char- 
 ter had mysteriously disappeared ; and though Sir Edmund searched diligently 
 for it, his search was in vain. Captain James Wadsworth had seized the 
 precious charter and concealed it in a hollow in the trunk of this friendly tree. 
 
 2. All strangers who visit Cambridge, Massachusetts, look with interest upon 
 the remnants of the venerable Elm tree under which Washington sat, when on 
 the 3rd of July, 1775, he assumed command of the Colonial army. It stands in 
 the center of a great public thoroughfare, its trunk protected by an iron fence 
 from injury by passing vehicles, which for more than a century have turned out 
 for this tree. 
 
 3. "The Cary Tree," planted by Alice and Poebe Cary. As these sisters were 
 returning from school one day they found a small tree in the road, and carry- 
 ing it to the opposite side they dug out the earth with sticks and their hands, 
 and planted it. When these two children had grown to womanhood and 
 removed to New York city, they never returned to their old home without 
 paying a visit to the tree they had planted. That tree is the large and beautiful 
 Sycamore, which one sees in passing along the Hamilton turnpike from College 
 Hill to Mount Pleasant, Hamilton county, Ohio. 
 
 4. A tree interesting from its association with the General of the American 
 Army, is the Washington Oak at Fishkill. Washington's headquarters re- 
 mained on the west bank of the Hudson, between Newburgh and New Windsor, 
 from the spring of 1782, to August 18, 1783; and during this time he crossed 
 the river frequently for the purpose of visiting the troops in camp upon Fish- 
 kill Plain, near the village of that name. The most convenient landing-place 
 on the east bank was upon a long, low point of land formed to the north of the 
 mouth of Fishkill creek, and here, according to the tradition of the locality, 
 under two large Oak trees, Washington always mounted and dismounted from 
 his horse as he started and returned from the camp. The tree is a Chestnut 
 
'***%& 
 
 A CALIFORNIA GIANT. 
 

ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 295 
 
 Oak, still healthy and vigorous, and standing directly at the top of the low 
 river-bank. The trunk girths at the present time, over twenty-one feet, and, 
 judging from the age of its companion, which was blown down a few years since, 
 eight or ten centuries may have passed since the acorn from which it sprang 
 fell to the ground. 
 
 5. There is a Weeping Willow in Copp's burying-ground near Bunker Hill, 
 that has grown from a branch taken from a tree that shaded the grave of 
 Napoleon at St. Helena. Under this tree are buried the remains of Cotton 
 Mather, so noted in Salem witchcraft. Copp's burying-ground is so near the 
 Bunker Hill battle-field, that a number of grave-stones can be seen to-day 
 which were pierced through by bullets fired by British soldiers in that battle. 
 
 6. It was the custom of our New England ancestors to plant trees in the early 
 settlement of our country, and dedicate them to liberty. Many of these " Lib- 
 erty Trees," consecrated by our fore-fathers are still standing. "Old Liberty 
 Elm " in Boston, was planted by a school-master long before the Revolutionary 
 war, and dedicated by him to the independence of the Colonies. Around that 
 tree, before the Revolution, the citizens of Boston and vicinity, used to gather 
 and listen to the advocates of our country's freedom. Around it during the 
 war, they met to offer up thanks and supplications to Almighty God for the 
 success of the patriot armies, and after the terrible struggle had ended the 
 people were accustomed to assemble there year after year, in the shadow of that 
 old tree, to celebrate the liberty and independence of our country. It stood 
 till within a few years, a living monument of the patriotism of the people of 
 Boston, and when at last it fell, the bells in all the churches of the city were 
 tolled, and a feeling of sadness spread over the entire State. 
 
 7. The Ash trees planted by General Washington at Mt. Vernon. These trees 
 form a beautiful row, which is the admiration of all who visit the home of the 
 Father of his Country. 
 
 8. The Elm tree at Philadelphia, under which William Penn made his famous 
 treaty with nineteen tribes of barbarians, the only treaty never sworn to and 
 never broken. This Elm was carefully guarded until itfio, when it was unfor- 
 tunately blown down. A monument now marks the spot. 
 
 Other familiar trees are the wide spreading Oak tree of Flushing, Long 
 . Island, under which George Fox, the founder of the society of Friends or 
 Quakers, preached. 
 
 "The Burgoyne Elm," at Albany, which was planted on the day the British 
 General Burgoyne was brought a prisoner into the city, the day after the 
 surrender. 
 
 The lofty Cypress tree in the Dismal Swamp, under which Washington 
 reposed one night in his young manhood. 
 
 The magnificent Black Walnut tree, near Haverstraw on the Hudson, under 
 which General Wayne mustered his force at midnight, preparatory to his suc- 
 cessful attack on Stony Point. 
 
 The huge French Apple tree near Fort Wayne, Indiana ( where Little Turtle, 
 the great Miama Chief, gathered his warriors. 
 
 The grand Magnolia tree near Charleston, South Carolina, under which Gen- 
 eral Lincoln held a council of war previous to surrendering the city. 
 
296 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 The tall Pine tree at Fort Edward, New York, under which the beautiful 
 Jane McCrea was slain. 
 
 The great Pecan tree at Villere's plantation, below New Orleans, under which 
 a portion of the remains of General Packingham was buried. 
 
 The Pear trees planted respectively by Governor Endicott of Massachusetts, 
 and Governor Stuyvesant of New York, more than two hundred years ago, and 
 the Tulip tree on King's mountain battle-field, in South Carolina, upon which 
 ten Tory murderers were hung at one time. 
 
 Sodus Centre, N. Y. Edward C. Delano. 
 
 THE USE OF ARBOR DAY. 
 
 THE subject of forestry is, of course, an appropriate one for Arbor Day, if 
 there is any person available who is competent to present or discuss it. 
 Almost any time would be suitable for the intelligent treatment of this topic, if 
 people will come together to hear and consider it. It is vitally related to the 
 public welfare in a variet)* - of ways, and serious injury to the prosperity and 
 civilization of our country is almost certain to result from the lack of sufficient 
 knowledge to enable our people justly to estimate its importance. Oratory 
 without knowledge is of little value, and will not long be found entertaining ; 
 but knowledge regarding the subjects which are appropriate for Arbor Day can 
 be acquired only as knowledge of other important subjects is acquired, by seri- 
 ous interest and application, by stud)'- and adequate observation. 
 
 The planting of trees by a person able to use it as an object-lesson for popu- 
 lar instruction by describing the structure and functions of the various parts of 
 the tree, and their relations to each other in its life, would in many places be 
 an admirable use to make of Arbor Day. The proper care of trees and shrubs 
 in villages and along country road-sides, their economic value as related to 
 bird-life and insect-life, their influence on health, and on the interest and hap- 
 piness of human life, their value as a means of seclusion, and their effect in 
 landscape everywhere, are all good subjects for consideration on Arbor Day, if 
 they are seriously and intelligently presented. 
 
 If a few public-spirited young men and women in every town will read the 
 new literature regarding these and similar subjects, they will soon be able to 
 supply competent direction for Arbor Daj r observances, and, what is more im- 
 portant, to give good counsel, and to act intelligently when questions of prun- 
 ing trees, widening streets and destroying road-sides are under discussion. 
 
 Garden and Forest. April 17, 1889. 
 
 Germany has made great progress in tree-planting. It was a part of the 
 national policy of Frederick the Great by which Germany was raised from a 
 small power to a great one. Where once the sandy deserts would not nourish 
 a flock of goats, vast armies have been maintained, and regiments of hardy 
 soldiers have poured forth from the fertile soil, where two hundred years ago 
 the thorn and the thistle overspread an impoverished land. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 297 
 
 Written for the "Arbor Day Manual" 
 
 PRUNING TREES. 
 
 AS trees grow thick])- together in the forest, the lower limbs die and drop off, 
 while they are small ; but in case of isolated trees, the conditions are so 
 different, that unless pruned, they are often ill shaped and unsightly. 
 
 Many people erroneously imagine that as a tree grows, the limbs will be raised 
 higher, whereas, from increased weight, they droop and become really lower. 
 
 The common practice is to neglect pruning shade trees till the view is 
 obstructed by large low limbs which are then heroically sawed off, leaving large 
 knots and scars which must ever remain to offend the eye. These useless 
 branches were grown at the expense of the main trunk ; such trees can never 
 present the fine and majestic appearance of those which have a nearly uniform 
 diameter from the ground to the lowest limbs. 
 
 In imitation of nature's process in the forest, all limbs and sprouts should be 
 removed as soon as possible up to a desired point ; this can usually be done 
 with an ordinary knife, or even the hand. In considering the removal of a 
 sprout, the question should be : Will a branch be desirable at that point? If 
 not, let it not remain to rob desirable parts. The height at which branching 
 should be allowed to commence must be decided by individual taste which will 
 also indicate the lopping off, at other points, of those branches which are ill- 
 formed, and not in harmony with the general appearance. Dead and decaying 
 limbs should be promptly removed. H. R. Sanford, A. M. 
 
 THE BLUE-BIRD. 
 
 WHEN Nature made the blue-bird she wished to propitiate both the sky and 
 the earth, so she gave him the color of the one on his back and the hue of 
 the other on his breast, and ordained that his appearance in spring should 
 denote that the strife and war between these two elements was at an end. He 
 is the peace-harbinger; in him the celestial and the terrestrial strike hands and 
 are fast friends. He means the furrow and he means the warmth ; he means all 
 the soft, waving influences of the spring on the one hand, and the retreating 
 footsteps of winter on the other. After you have seen the blue-bird you will 
 see no more cold, no more snow, no more winter. He brings soft skies and the 
 ruddy brown of the fields. It is sure to be a bright March morning when you 
 first hear his note ; and it is as if the milder influences up above had found a 
 voice and let a word fall upon the ear, so tender is it and so prophetic a hope 
 tinged with a regret. 
 
 Scribner's Magazine, August, 1873. JOHN BURROUGHS. 
 
 Owing to the destruction of forests, that part of Italy that was once adorned 
 with villas, parks, flower and fruit gardens, is now an unhealthy uninhabitable 
 region. The malarious gases were formerly absorbed by the leaves of the 
 numerous trees, but now they fill the air, and infect even the heart of the city. 
 
298 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE PALM TREE. 
 
 IS it the palm, the cocoa palm, 
 On the Indian sea, by the isles of balm ? 
 Or is it a ship in the breezeless calm ? 
 
 A ship whose keel is of palm beneath, 
 Whose ribs of palm have a palm-bark sheath, 
 And a rudder of palm it steereth with. 
 
 Branches' of palm are its spars and rails, 
 Fibers of palm are its woven sails, 
 And the rope is of palm that idly trails ! 
 
 What does the good ship bear so well? 
 The cocoa-nut with its stony shell, 
 And the milky sap of its inner cell. 
 
 What are its jars, so smooth and fine, 
 
 But hollowed nuts, filled with oil and wine, 
 
 And the cabbage that ripens under the Line? 
 
 Who smokes his nargileh, cool and calm ? 
 
 The master whose cunning and skill could charm 
 
 Cargo and ship from the bounteous palm. 
 
 In the cabin he sits on a palm mat soft, 
 From a beaker of palm his drink is quaffed, 
 And a palm thatch shields from the sun aloft. 
 
 His dress is woven of palmy strands, 
 
 And he holds a palm-leaf scroll in his hands, 
 
 Traced with the Prophet's wise commands ! 
 
 The turban folded about his head 
 
 Was daintily wrought of the palm-leaf braid, 
 
 And the fan that cools him, of palm was made. 
 
 Of threads of palm was the carpet spun 
 Whereon he kneels when the day is done, 
 And the foreheads of Islam are bowed as one. 
 
 To him the palm is a gift divine 
 Wherein all uses of man combine, — 
 House, and raiment, and food, and wine ! 
 
 And in the hour of his great release, 
 His need of the palm shall only cease 
 With the shroud wherein he lies at peace. 
 
 "Allah il Allah ! " he sings his psalm, 
 
 On the Indian sea, by the isles of palm ; 
 " Thanks to Allah who gives the palm !" Whittier. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 299 
 
 WELCOME TO MAY. 
 
 HAIL ! hail ! hail to the beautiful May ; 
 Now while nature's green carpet is spread on the ground, 
 With verdure and beauty the hill-sides are crowned, 
 So with music, sweet music, we'll make the wood ring, 
 While nature is smiling, this song we will sing: 
 Welcome to May, beautiful May, 
 Join in the song gladly to-day, 
 With happy voices and with hearts so gay, 
 Sing we a welcome, thrice welcome tc May. 
 
 Hail ! hail ! hail to the beautiful May; 
 
 Lovely May thou art welcome, we greet thee to-day, 
 
 For winter's cold winds thou hast driven far away, 
 
 While the birds sing so gayly, and flow'rs bloom so bright, 
 
 We'll join in the chorus and sing with delight : 
 
 Welcome to May, beautiful May, 
 
 Join in the song gladly to-day, 
 
 With happy voices and with hearts so gay, 
 
 Sing we a welcome, thrice welcome to May. 
 
 Written for the "Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 SONG OF CONSECRATION. 
 
 RELEASED from her fetters, all nature rejoices, 
 With music and mirth from her captives set free, 
 We join the grand anthem, and lift our glad voices 
 In praise and thanksgiving, Great Giver, to thee. 
 
 Earth green, 'neath our feet, thy warm sun shining o'er us, 
 With birds and the bowers and the blossoms of spring, 
 
 The landscape of life stretching onward before us, 
 Tis meet that our Arbor Day off'ring we bring. 
 
 From winter's cold sleep, see the myriads awaken ; 
 
 To slumber no longer in silence and gloom, 
 Not a life, not a germ, not a bud is forsaken, 
 
 But all are remembered in nature's first bloom. 
 
 While 'neath the green foliage the shadows are dancing, 
 
 Our hearts swayed with love as the leaves on the tree, 
 And feel the warm zephyrs of summer advancing 
 We lift our glad spirits, Great Giver, to thee ! 
 Water town, N. Y. E. A. Hole rook. 
 
3<DO ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Written for the "Arbor Day Manual." 
 
 ARBOR DAY. 
 
 ITS EDUCATING INFLUENCE. 
 
 THE observance of Arbor Day has already led to the planting of myriads of 
 trees in this country. Important as is this result, the educating influence of 
 this work is of still higher value. One of these educating forces begins when 
 children are thus led to plant not only trees, but tree-seeds, acorns, nuts, drupe- 
 stones or pits, and then to observe the wonderful miracles which the tree-life 
 they have started is working out before them. What interest and profit, what 
 growth of mind and heart they will gain, as they watch the mysterious forces 
 of these living germs, their marvelous assimilating power, carrying on a curious 
 chemistry in their underground laboratory, linked with the mysterious appa- 
 ratus of the leaves above, transforming coarse earth and even offensive filth 
 into living forms of surpassing beauty and fragrance. It is something for a 
 child, who has dropped such a germ in the earth, to feel that he has made a 
 lasting contribution to the natural beauty around him, for there is nothing 
 more ennobling than the consciousness of doing something for future genera- 
 tions, which may prove a growing benefaction in coming years — a better 
 monument than any in bronze or marble. The trees which children plant 
 around the homestead and watch from seed to shoot, from bud to limb, and 
 from flower to fruit, will be increasingly prized with a sentiment of companion- 
 ship and almost of kinship as they grow into living memorials of happ3 r , 
 youthful days. Thus, the educating influences of Arbor Day will manifest 
 themselves more and more as the years go by, especially to all who apply Dr. 
 Holmes' advice, and "make trees monuments of history and character," or 
 appreciate his saying, " I have written many verses, but the best poems I have 
 produced are the trees I have planted," or the striking words of Sir Walter, 
 "Planting and pruning trees I could work at from morning till night. There 
 is a sort of self-congratulation, a little tickling self-flattery in the idea that 
 while you are pleasing and amusing 5^ourself, you are seriously contributing to 
 the future welfare of the country." 
 
 As a result of Arbor Day, talks on trees and tree-planting are now common 
 in our best schools. Every pupil should be led to observe, recognize and 
 admire our common trees, and thus come to realize that they form the finest 
 drapery that adorns this earth in all lands. Such love of trees will tend to 
 make them practical arborists. Let the parent as well as teacher, then- 
 encourage every child — girl or boy — to plant, or help in planting, if too 
 young to work alone, some flower, shrub, vine or tree, to be known by his or 
 her name. Such offspring they will watch with pride, as every month or )'ear 
 new beauties appear, and find a peculiar pleasure in the parentage of trees, 
 whether forest, fruit or ornamental, a pleasure that never cloys, but grows 
 with their growth. Such tree-planting is a grand discipline in foresight. 
 Mental myopia means weakness and folly, while the habit of forecasting con 
 sequences is the condition of wisdom. Many youth will sow onty where they 
 can quickly reap. With them a meagre crop soon in hand outweighs a golden 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. ?oi 
 
 harvest long in maturing. The tree-planter can appreciate the apothegm, 
 "To patiently work and wait, year after year, for the attainment of some far- 
 off end, shows a touch of the sublime, and implies moral no less than mental 
 heroism." 
 
 Clinton, Conn. B. G. Northrop. 
 
 ARBOR DAY. 
 
 OUR modern institution — Arbor Day — is a public acknowledgment of our 
 dependence upon the soil of the earth for our daily, our annual, bread. 
 In recognition of the same fact the Emperor of China annually plows a furrow 
 with his own hand, and in the same significance are the provisions in the 
 ancient law of Moses, to give the land its seven-year Sabbath, as well as to 
 man his seventh day for rest and recreation. Our observance is a better one, 
 because it calls on all, and especially on the impressible learners in the schools 
 to join in the duty which we owe to the earth and to all mankind, of doing 
 what each of us can to preserve the soil's fertility, and to prevent, as long as 
 possible, the earth, from which we have our being, from becoming worn out 
 and wholly bald and bare. And we do this by planting of any sort, if only by 
 making two blades of grass grow where but one grew before, and by learning 
 to preserve vegetation. We give solemnity to this observance by joining in it 
 on an appointed day, high and low, old and young, together. 
 Vick's Magazine. 
 
 DESTRUCTION OF THE FORESTS. 
 
 SOME of the figures presented to the Forestry Congress, recently held at 
 Philadelphia, are, to say the least, impressive. From them it appears that the 
 woodland of the United States now covers 450,000,000 acres, or about twenty- 
 six per cent of the area. Of this not less than 25,000,000 acres are cut over 
 annually, a rate of destruction that will bring our forests to an end in eighteen 
 years, if there is no replanting. It was also stated that while the wood grow- 
 ing annually in the forests of the United States amounts to 12,000,000,000 cubic 
 feet, the amount cut annually is 24,000,000,000 cubic feet, and this does not 
 include a vast amount destroyed by fire. The country's supply of timber, 
 therefore, is being depleted at least twice as fast as it is being reproduced, and 
 this is another way of showing *that a timber famine is approaching rapidly. It 
 will be very serious when it comes, and it will not be relieved very easily or 
 very soon. 
 
 Newspaper Extract, Nov., 1 889. 
 
 Mouldering and moss grown through the lapse of years in motionless beauty 
 stands the giant, oak — while those that saw its green and flourishing youth are 
 gone and forgotton. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
302 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 ASPEN. 
 
 T that awful hour of the passion, when the Saviour of the world felt de- 
 serted in His agony, when — 
 
 " The sympathizing sun his light withdrew, 
 And wonder'd how the stars their dying Lord could view — " 
 
 A 
 
 when earth, shaken with horror, rung the passing bell for Deity, and universal 
 nature groaned ; then from the loftiest tree to the lowliest flower all felt a 
 sudden thrill, and trembling, bowed their heads, all save the proud and ob- 
 durant aspen, which said, "Why should we weep and tremble? we trees, and 
 plants, and flowers are pure and never sinned ! " Ere it ceased to speak, an 
 involuntary trembling seized its every leaf, and the word went forth that it 
 should never rest, but tremble on until the day of judgment. 
 
 Old Legend. 
 
 MAPLE. 
 
 THAT was a day of delight and wonder, 
 While lying the shade of the maple trees under — 
 He felt the soft breeze at its frolicsome play ; 
 He smelled the sweet odor of newty mown hay, 
 Of wilding blossoms in meadow and wood, 
 And flowers in the garden that orderly stood ; 
 He drank of the milk foaming fresh from the cow, 
 He ate the ripe apple just pulled from the bough ; 
 And lifted his hand to where hung in his reach, 
 All laden with honey, the ruddy-cheeked peach ; 
 Beside him the blackberries juicy and fresh ; 
 Before him the melon with odorous flesh; 
 There he had all for his use or his vision, 
 
 All that the wishes of mortal could seize — 
 There where he lay in a country elysian, 
 Happily, dreamily, 
 Under the trees. 
 
 Tho's Dunn English. 
 
 Ye field flowers ! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true; 
 Yet, wildings of nature, I doat upon you ; 
 
 For ye waft me to summers of old, 
 When the earth teem'd around me with fairy delight, 
 And when daisies and buttercups gladden'd my sight, 
 
 Like treasures of silver and gold. 
 
 Campbell. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 303 
 
 THE LILAC. 
 
 THE sun shone warm, and the lilac said, 
 " I must hurry and get my table spread, 
 For if I am slow, and dinner late, 
 My friends, the bees, will have to wait." 
 
 So delicate lavender glass she brought 
 And the daintiest china ever bought, 
 Purple tinted, and all complete ; 
 And she filled each cup with honey sweet. 
 
 ' Dinner is ready ! " the spring wind cried ; 
 And from hive and hiding, far and wide, 
 While the lilac laughed to see them come, 
 The little gray-jacketed bees came hum-m ! 
 
 They sipped the syrup from every cell, 
 
 They nibbled at taffy and caramel ; 
 
 Then, without being asked, they all buzzed: "We 
 
 Will be very happy to stay to tea." 
 
 Clara Doty Bates. 
 
 I 
 
 THE RHODORA. 
 
 ON BEING ASKED, WHENCE IS THE FLOWER? 
 
 N Maj^, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, 
 
 I found the fresh rhodora in the woods, 
 Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, 
 To please the desert and the sluggish brook. 
 The purple petals fallen in the pool, 
 Made the black water with their beauty gay; 
 Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool. 
 And court the flower that cheapens his array. 
 Rhodora ! if the sages ask thee why 
 This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, 
 Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, 
 Then beauty is its own excuse for being. 
 Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose ! 
 I never thought to ask, I never knew; 
 But, in my simple ignorance, suppose 
 The self-same power that brought me there brought you. 
 
 Emerson. 
 
 Who that has loved knows not the tender tale 
 Which flowers reveal, when lips are coy to tell. 
 
 Bulwer-Lytton. 
 
304 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 THE BIRCH TREE. 
 
 RIPPLING through thy branches goes the sunshine, 
 Among thy leaves that palpitate forever; 
 Ovid in thee a pining nymph had prisoned, 
 The soul once of some tremulous inland river, 
 Quivering to tell her woe, but, ah ! dumb, dumb forever ! 
 
 While all the forest, witched with slumberous moonshine, 
 
 Holds up its leaves in happy, happy silence, 
 
 Waiting the dew, with breath and pulse suspended, 
 
 I hear afar thy whispering, gleamy islands, 
 
 And track thee wakeful still amid the wide-hung silence. 
 
 Upon the brink of some wood-nestled lakelet, 
 
 Thy foliage, like the tresses of a Dryad, 
 
 Dripping about thy slim white stem whose shadow 
 
 Slopes quivering down the water's dusky quiet, 
 
 Thou shrink'st as on her bath's edge would some startled Dryad. 
 
 Thou art the go-between of rustic lovers; 
 Thy white bark has their secrets in its keeping; 
 Reuben writes here the happy name of Patience, 
 And thy lithe boughs hang murmuring and weeping 
 Above her as she steals the mystery from thy keeping. 
 
 Thou art to me like my beloved maiden, 
 
 So frankly coy, so full of trembly confidences ; 
 
 Thy shadow scarce seems shade, thy pattering leaflets 
 
 Sprinkle their gathered sunshine o'er my senses, 
 
 And nature gives me all her summer confidences. 
 
 Whether my heart with hope or sorrow tremble, 
 Thou sympathizest still ; wild and unquiet, 
 I fling me down ; thy ripple, like a river, 
 Flows valleyward. where calmness is, and by it 
 My heart is floated down into the land of quiet. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 Behold the trees unnumbered rise, 
 
 Beautiful, in various dyes ; 
 
 The gloomy pine, the poplar blue, 
 
 The yellow beech, the sombre yew, 
 
 The slender fir that taper grows, 
 
 The sturdy oak with broad-spread boughs. 
 
 Dyer. 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. „ Q r 
 
 CUTTING OFF THE FORESTS. 
 
 EFFECT IN CENTRAL NEW YORK. 
 
 THERE is abundant evidence in America of the effects of cutting off the 
 forests. In Central New York streams that thirty or forty years ago kept 
 the ponds well filled for the saw-mill and grist-mill, and furnished a never-fail- 
 ing supply of running water for the farm, are now dry in summer, with the ex- 
 ception of here and there a stagnant pool ; the dam is decayed and washed away, 
 the mills gone, and the once picturesque scene is changed to that of desolation. 
 Yet, with the warm rains of spring and the melting snows, the streams overflow 
 their banks, the swift waters carry away fences, bridges, and embankments. 
 Spring opens later. The young cattle were wont to be turned into the wood- 
 sheltered pasture about the first of April ; now they are kept shut up until the 
 middle of May. Peach orchards that were sure to be loaded every year with 
 luscious fruit have almost disappeared, and the crop is the exception rather 
 than the rule. The extremes of heat and cold are greater, and droughts in 
 summer and floods in springtime are more frequent and more destructive. 
 Trace the stream* from its source to the laket and the cause of these things is 
 apparent. The old tamarack swamp that used to supply the boys and girls 
 with aromatic gum, and in which the creek had its source, has all been cut 
 away. The thickly-wooded black-ash swamps, through which the stream ran 
 in its course to the lake, have been cleared, and their marshy areas have given 
 place to cultivated fields and pastures. The cutting away the forests from the 
 headwaters and the banks of this stream accounts for the changes I have noted, 
 and this picture, I doubt not, is a very familiar one in the New England and Mid- 
 dle States. It is not difficult for men who know the effects of cutting the timber 
 from small areas around the headwaters of the smaller streams to understand 
 why summer navigation in the Mississippi, the Missouri, and the Ohio, has 
 become difficult and at times impossible where it was easy and constant a few 
 years ago ; or why the Hudson and the Connecticut are much lower in summer 
 and higher in spring than in former years. The partial deforesting of the 
 Adirondack region has materially affected the flow of the Hudson, the Mohawk, 
 the Black, and other rivers, and sufficiently demonstrated the fact that were 
 this great watershed of New York stripped of its forest covering, the Empire 
 State would lose her prestige, and New York city her rank as the first commer- 
 cial city of the New World. 
 
 Warren Higley, President American Forestry Congress, 1885. 
 
 In such green palaces the first kings reigned 
 Slept in their shade, and angels entertained. 
 With such old counsellors they did advise, 
 And by frequenting sacred shades grew wise. 
 
 *Owasco creek in Cavuga countv. tOwasco lake. 
 
 20 
 
3°6 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 ARBOR DAY. 
 
 TREE planting on Arbor Day, for economic purposes in the great West, has 
 given to the prairie States many thousand acres of new forests, and in- 
 spired the people with a sense of their great value, not only for economic 
 purposes, but for climatic and meteorological purposes as well. The cele- 
 bration of Arbor Day by the public schools in several of the older States by 
 the planting of memorial trees, as originated at Cincinnati in the spring of 
 1882, and generally known as the "Cincinnati plan," has done much also to 
 awaken a widespread interest in the study of trees ; and this annual celebration 
 promises to become as general in the public schools and among the people as 
 the observance of May day in England. "Whatever you would have appear in 
 the Nation's life you must introduce into the public schools." Train the youth 
 into a love for trees, instruct them in the elements of forestry, and the wisdom 
 of this old German proverb will be realized. 
 
 Warren Higley, 1885. 
 
 The trees which the children plant, or which they assist in dedicating, will 
 become dearer to them as year after year rolls on. As the trees grow, and their 
 branches expand in beauty, so will the love for them increase in the hearts of 
 those by whom they were planted or dedicated, and long before the children 
 reach old age they will almost venerate these green and living memorials of 
 youthful and happy days; and as those who have loved and cared for pets will 
 ever be the friends of our dumb animals, so will they ever be the friends of our 
 forest trees. From the individual to the general, is the law of our nature. 
 Show us a man who in childhood had a pet, and we'll show you a lover of 
 animals. Show us a person who in youth planted a tree that has lived and 
 flourished, and we'll show you a friend of trees and of forest culture. 
 
 John B. Peaslee. 
 
 FOREST SILENCE. 
 
 THERE is a soft green darkness 'round 
 Wherein the noon sleeps hushed and still, 
 Only a little hidden rill 
 Moves murmuring through mossy ground ; 
 The doves are silent, and the bees 
 Hum here no more ; the green branched trees 
 Are moveless in the windless air, 
 And silence broodeth everywhere. 
 Harper s Magazine, September, 1884. 
 
 ''Large streams from little fountains flow 
 Tall oaks from little acorns grow." 
 
ARBOR DAY MANUAL. -^qj 
 
 ARBOR DAY ACROSTIC. 
 
 FOR A CLASS OF SEVEN GIRLS. 
 
 EACH girl should be dressed in white, with shoulder sash of red, white and 
 blue, and should wear real or imitation flowers of the kind represented. 
 
 If flowers cannot be obtained, each girl should wear a coronet made of card- 
 board covered with pink tissue-paper on which appears the name of the flower 
 represented. The letters for the name may be cut out of gilt paper and attached 
 with mucilage. 
 
 Each girl should be provided with one of the seven letters comprised in 
 A-R-B-O-R D-A-Y. These letters should be from eight to ten inches long, 
 cut from heavy card-board and covered with evergreen. 
 
 Girl representing Arbutus enters, carrying letter A, — comes well down 
 in front, and recites her selection ; then places letter in position on wall back 
 of stage, for which previous preparation may have been made, and takes her 
 place at left center. Rose then enters, recites selection, places letter R in 
 position on wall, and takes her place next to Arbutus. Others follow in order. 
 After the last letter has been placed in position all recite in concert. 
 
 A-RBUTUS. 
 I am the Arbutus. 
 
 If Spring has maids of Honor — If Spring has maids of Honor — 
 And why should not the Spring, Arbutus leads the train : 
 
 With all her dainty service, A lovelier, a fairer, 
 
 Have thoughts of some such thing ? The Spring would seek in vain. 
 
 R-OSE. 
 
 I am the Rose. 
 
 If Jove would give the leafy bowers Nursling of soft summer dawns; 
 
 A queen for all their world of flowers. Love's own earliest sigh it breathes, 
 
 The Rose would be the choice of Jove Beauty's brow with lustre wreathes, 
 
 And blush, the queen of every grove, And to young zephyr's warm caresses, 
 
 Gem, the vest of earth adorning, Spreads abroad its verdant tresses. 
 Eye of gardens, light of lawns, 
 
 B-UTTERCUP. 
 I am the Buttercup. 
 
 I'm homely and I wear the dress They say I'm but an idle weed, 
 That once my mother wore ; As useless as I'm gay ; 
 
 You may remember having seen But there was never yet a flower 
 A Buttercup before ; More loyal to the May. 
 
 Ox-eye Daisy. 
 
 I am the Ox-eye Daisy. 
 
 Oh welcome, welcome, queenly May But when the ail grew doubly sweet 
 The Ox-Eye daisy am I ; With music and perfume, 
 
 I kept my blossoms folded close I knew that you had come indeed, 
 Beneath the April sky; And it was time to bloom. 
 
 R-HODORA. 
 
 I am the Rhodora. 
 
 In May when sea-winds pierce our solitudes, The purple petals, fallen in the pool, 
 We find the fresh Rhodora in the woods. Make the dark water with their beauty gay ; 
 
 Spreading its leafless blossoms in a damp nook, Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool, 
 To please the desert and the sluggish brook. And court the flower that cheapens his array. 
 
3 o8 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 D-AFFODIL. 
 I am the Daffodil. 
 
 The dainty Lady Daffodil 
 
 Hath donned her amber gown, 
 And on her fair and sunny head 
 
 Sparkles her golden crovvn. 
 
 Her tall green leaves, like sentinels, 
 Surround my Lady's throne, 
 
 And graciously in happy state, 
 She reigns a queen alone. 
 
 A-STER. 
 
 I am the Aster. 
 
 The Autumn woods the Aster knows, 
 
 The empty nest, the wind that grieves, 
 
 The sunlight breaking thro' the shade, 
 
 The squirrel chattering overhead, 
 
 The timid rabbits lighter tread 
 Among the rustling leaves. 
 
 And still beside the shadowy glen 
 
 She holds the color of the skies ; 
 Along the purpling wayside steep 
 She hangs her fringes passing deep, 
 And meadows drowned in happy state 
 Are lit by starry eyes ! 
 
 Y-ellow Cowslip. 
 
 I am the Yellow Cowslip. 
 
 Welcome, thrice welcome ! all our friends, 
 
 I have not much to bring, 
 I'm but the Yellow Cowslip, 
 
 The humblest flower of Spring ; 
 
 But since before the fairest bloom, 
 It must be mine to die, 
 
 Oh, give to me one gentle smile, 
 Pray, do not pass me by. 
 
 All 
 
 A-R-B-O-R D-A-Y. 
 
 We are the sweet flowers, We fill the air with pleasure by our simple breath, 
 
 Born of sunny showers, All who see us love us — 
 
 (Think, whene'er you see us, what our beauty saith); We benefit all places ; 
 
 Utterance, mute and bright, Unto sorrow we give smiles — and unto graces, races. 
 
 Of some unknown delight, 
 
 Arranged by Edward C. Delano. 
 
 THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD. 
 
 HE took the children by the hand, 
 Tears standing in their eye, 
 And bade them straightway follow him, 
 
 And look they did not crye ; 
 And two long miles he led them on, 
 
 While the}' for food complained ; 
 Staye here, quoth he, I'll bring you bread, 
 When I come back againe. 
 
 These pretty babes, with hand in hand 
 
 Went wandering up and downe ; 
 But never more could see the man 
 
 Approaching from the town ; 
 Their prettye lippes with black-berries, 
 
 Were all besmeared and dyed, 
 And when they sawe the darksome night. 
 
 They sat them downe and cryed. 
 
 Thus wandered these poor innocents, 
 
 Till deathe did end their grief, 
 In one another's arm's they dyed, 
 
 As wanting due relief; 
 No burial this " pretty pair " 
 
 Of any man receives, 
 Till Robin-red-breast piously 
 
 Did cover them with leaves. 
 
 Thomas Percy, 1765. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 309 
 
 ROCK-A-BYE, BABY, ON THE TREE TOP. 
 
 ROCK-A-BYE, baby, on the tree top, 
 When the wind blows the cradle will rock, 
 When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, 
 And down will come baby, cradle and all. 
 
 Chorus. — Oh, rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, mother is near, 
 
 Then rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, nothing to fear, 
 For angels of slumber are hovering near, 
 So rock-a-bye, baby, mother is here. 
 
 Rock-a-bye, baby, the meadows in bloom 
 Laugh at the sunbeams that dance in the room ; 
 Echo the birds with your own baby tune 
 Coo in the sunshine and flowers of June. 
 
 Chorus. — Rock-a-bye, baby, etc. 
 
 Rock-a-bye, baby, so cloudless the skies, 
 Blue as the depths of your own laughing eyes, 
 Sweet is the lullaby over your nest, 
 That tenderly sings little baby to rest. 
 
 Chorus. — Rock-a-bye, baby, etc. 
 
 Rock-a-bye, baby, the meadows in bloom 
 May never the frosts pall the beaut}' in gloom ; 
 Be thy world ever bright as to-day it is seen ; 
 Rock-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green. 
 
 Chorus. — Rock-a-bye, babv, etc. 
 
 A wonderful thing is a seed — Plant blessings, and blessings will bloom ! 
 
 The one thing deathless forever ! Plant hate, and hate will grow. 
 
 The one thing changeless, utterly true, You can sow to-day, to-morrow shall bring 
 
 Forever old, forever new, The blossoms that prove what sort of thing 
 
 And fickle and faithless never. Is the seed — the seed that you sow." 
 
 " The fair maid who, the first of May, 
 Goes to the fields at break of day, 
 And washes in dew from the hawthorn tree, 
 Will ever after handsome be." 
 
 These woods were first the seat of sylvan powers, 
 Of nymphs and fawns, and savage men who took 
 Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn oak. 
 
 Virgil. 
 
r ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 A 
 
 MYSELF. 
 
 ND I " was smart," and all the springs I knew the trees where slept the crows ; 
 On all the hills could show ; And, on the water's brim, 
 
 And if there were some grammar things I climbed among the hemlock boughs 
 I didn't care to know, To watch the fishes swim. 
 
 I always knew how many boughs I knew beside the swollen rill, 
 
 The latest tempest broke, What flowers to bloom had burst ; 
 
 And just how far the woodpecker And where, upon the south sloped hill, 
 Had girdled 'round the oak. The berries ripened first. 
 
 Each violet tuft, each cowslip green, 
 
 Each daisy on the lea, 
 I counted one by one, for they 
 
 Were kith and kin to me. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Published by James Vick, Rochester. Harriet Ellen Arey. 
 
 IF I WERE A BIRD. 
 
 IF I were a bird I would warble a song, If I were a flower I'd hasten to bloom, 
 The sweetest and finest that ever was And make myself beautiful all the day 
 
 heard, through, 
 
 And build me a nest on the swinging elm With drinking the sunshine, the wind, and 
 tree ; the rain ; 
 
 Oh, that's what I'd do if were a bird. Oh, if I were a flower, that's what I'd do. 
 
 Once as our Saviour walked with men below, 
 His path of mercy through a forest lay ; 
 
 And mark how all the drooping branches show 
 What homage best a silent tree may pay. 
 
 Only the aspen stood erect and free, 
 
 Scorning to join the voiceless worship pure. 
 But see ! He casts one look upon the tree, 
 
 Struck to the heart she trembles evermore." 
 
 German Legend. 
 
 Full in the midst a spreading elm displayed 
 
 His aged arms, and cast a mighty shade ; 
 
 Each trembling leaf with some light vision teems, 
 
 And leaves impregnated with airy dreams. Virgil- 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 3" 
 
 BEAUTIFUL TREES. 
 
 NATURE'S children, beautiful trees ! 
 Whose branches bow to the gentle breeze; 
 Maple, beech, oak and elm, 
 In every country, in every realm, 
 In lonely valley, on mountain side, 
 They tower aloft in stately pride, 
 In pasture, meadow and forest dell, 
 Dear old landmarks ! we love them well. 
 
 Along the highway dusty and dreary, 
 
 How welcome their shade to the trav'ler weary; 
 
 Beneath their green boughs in the dim twilight, 
 
 Youth and maid oft linger their vows to plight, 
 
 And the old, old story that ever is new 
 
 Is told 'neath the hawthorn, maple and yew. 
 
 Where would the birds build their curious nests, 
 
 Humming-bird, oriole, robin red-breast; 
 
 Away from the school boys' eyes so keen, 
 
 Save in the tree-top's leafy screen. 
 
 How could we build our houses grand, 
 
 If trees grew not in every land ? 
 
 Our beautiful trees stately and tall 
 
 Must help to build school-house, church and hall. 
 
 They've waved their green banners since the beginning of time, 
 Their uses are many, their missions sublime, 
 Pure and noble as all men should be, 
 Honest and upright like a proud forest tree ; 
 Let us ever be grateful for blessings like these, 
 Let us honor and love God's beautiful trees. 
 Smithville, N. Y., Arbor Day, 1889. A. L. R. 
 
 ARBOR DAY. 
 
 OFF to the woods ! Oft" to the woods ! Scamper and frolic ! Gather the flowers, 
 Boys it's a grand new holiday ! Shouting our merriest roundelay; 
 
 Off to the woods for a green young tree, The buds shall bloom, and the birds shall sing 
 And we'll plant it ourselves, on Arbor Day. In the tree we plant on Arbor Day. 
 
 Joy to the thought of our own, own tree ! 
 
 Long may its branches shade our way; 
 This task shall ever our pleasure be, 
 
 Planting a tree on Arbor Day. 
 
r 2 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 A MONUMENT OF TREES. 
 
 EXTRACT from remarks by Prof. J. P. McCaskey, of Lancaster, Pa., editor 
 of the Pennsylvania School Journal, and Principal of High School, at 
 Lancaster, April 26, 1889: 
 
 The people of a certain locality in Japan, it is said, love to tell this story of 
 what is perhaps the most beautiful road in the Japanese Empire. When the 
 great general and law-giver fyecsasu died, his former tributary princes vied 
 with one another in rich mortuary gifts to perpetuate his memory. One daimio, 
 loving and loyal, instead of the customary gift of rare bronze or wrought stone, 
 to honor his dead lord, gave from his forest land, thousands of cryptomeria 
 trees, which he wisely knew would be an ever-growing delight for generations 
 in a densely populated region. 
 
 These young trees, which were then but eighteen inches or more in height, 
 he planted at equal distances along the two roads leading to Nikko, where the 
 body of the dead prince was interred. Two hundred years have passed, and the 
 trees, so small when planted, are giants now, whose branches interlock across 
 the wide roadway, presenting to the traveler in either direction a vista of green 
 as far as the eye can reach. Extending for thirty miles in one direction, and 
 for twenty miles in another, these rows of noble trees meet seven miles from the 
 temple where lie the ashes of the honored dead, and for this last seven miles a 
 double row of trees is found on each side of the roadway. In describing this 
 unique and very beautiful tribute of respect and affection, a recent traveler 
 says : 
 
 "Many who visit Nikko may forget the loveliness of the mountain scenery, 
 the waterfalls and rushing streams, the carving and gilding of the temples, the 
 soft low tone of the bells, the odor of incense and the chanting of priests, but 
 few will forget their twenty miles' ride beneath the over-arching branches- of 
 the stately trees. What more beautiful memorial could be suggested than this, 
 which benefits rich and poor, prince and coolie, alike, while mere bronze lant- 
 erns and costly but dead memorial stones are of no service except as reminders 
 of a bysrone age? " 
 
 One of the most useful trees of tropic climes is the cocoa palm. It has a 
 straight, erect stem, surmounted by a tuft of great leaves. The natives obtain 
 drinking water from the fruit before it is ripe ; almonds of a delicate flavor from 
 the ripe fruit, milk from the nut, and a substance resembling cabbage from the 
 tree. It also furnishes a delicious wine, and sugar is made from the sap. The 
 wood is used to make houses, the leaves to thatch them, and to make sails, the 
 net fiber to calk ships, and the oil to season meats and burn in lamps. With- 
 out this tree many otherwise barren and desolate coral islands of the Pacific 
 would be uninhabitable by man, bird or beast. 
 
 " He who plants trees loves others besides himself.' 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 3 T 3 
 
 A CONVENTION OF MICHIGAN TREES. 
 
 [Prepared by the Department of Botany and Forestry of the Agricultural College of Michigan, W J 
 Beal, Prof, of Botany and Forestry.] 
 
 Norway Pine (Louie). — Fellow trees of Michigan, to organize this meeting I move the 
 election of White Oak as chairman. (Seconded.) All who favor this motion please say 
 aye. (Unanimous vote.) Those who are opposed will say no. The ayes have it, and 
 White Oak will take the chair. 
 
 White Oak (Julius). — Fellow trees, the object of our meeting is to consider whatever 
 may be to our best interests in the forests of Michigan. It is a subject of great import- 
 ance to the State and to all of us, and we hope to gain much valuable information from 
 each other and to hear from every one present. 
 
 We have gathered from all parts of the State for this conference. As we should keep a 
 permanent record of our proceedings, and as the newspapers will probably wish to pub- 
 lish our papers and discussions, I think a secretary will be needed to take the minutes of 
 this meeting. 
 
 Beech (Harry). — I nominate Chestnut (Lillie) to act as secretary. (Seconded.) 
 
 White Oak. — All who favor the nomination last made will say aye. Those who are 
 opposed will say no. The ayes have it, and Chestnut is elected secretary. (She takes her 
 place.) 
 
 White Oak. — Our musician, Pine (Bessie), has kindly arranged the music for us. She 
 sings only when the spirits move her. We may know when that is by the peculiar sway- 
 ing of her head. At the swaying let us suspend business and listen. She moves — we 
 will hear "The echoes from the Forest." 
 
 White Oak. — We are now ready for discussion. (Several trees rising at once.) 
 
 White Oak. — Tulip tree has the floor. 
 
 Tulip Tree (Herman). — Fellow trees, I am glad to have this opportunity to plead my 
 qualifications as an ornamental tree. I grow to a great size and height and have shining, 
 queer-shaped leaves and large, tulip-shaped blossoms which remind you of the sunny 
 South, where my sisters, the Magnolias, live. 
 
 Burr Oak (Joseph). — I should like to ask Tulip tree of what use he is? Michigan 
 people have a right to demand of us both usefulness and beautv. 
 
 Tulip Tree. — I am not only valuable as an ornamental shade tree, but I also furnish 
 excellent timber for carriage bodies, furniture and finishing houses. Years ago my fore- 
 fathers were numerous south of the Grand River Valley, and supplied wood for laths, 
 shingles and lumber in the place of the white pine. Our family is a small one, repre- 
 sented in Michigan by a single species. 
 
 White Oak. — We shall be glad to hear from an)' members of the Oak family who live 
 in Michigan. (Sixteen members rise.) 
 
 White Oak. — This is certainly a large family. I recognize Chestnut as entitled to the 
 floor. What claims have 3'ou to rank in the Oak family? 
 
 Chestnut. — All botanists of the present day agree that the Beech, the Ironwood, the 
 blue Beech, and the Hazels and Chestnuts are first cousins to the Oaks. I live in four 
 counties in the south-east part of the State and am well known for valuable timber and a 
 good crop of edible nuts. 
 
 Beech. — Upon my smooth, gray bark many a heart history has been carved. The poet 
 Campbell tells it so beautifully: 
 
 " Thrice twenty summers have I stood, 
 Since youthful lovers in my shade 
 Their vows of truth and rapture paid, 
 And, on my trunk's surviving- frame, 
 Carved many a long forgotten name." 
 
 And here is another beautiful thing from Whittier: 
 
 " I have always admired the taste of the Indians around Sebago Lake, who, when 
 their chief died, dug round the beech tree, swaying it down, and placed his body in the 
 rent, and then let the noble tree fall back into its original place,, a green and beautiful 
 monument for a son of the forest." 
 
 I am one of the commonest and well-known trees of Michigan. 
 
 Burr Oak. — Ten of us Oaks, out of about 300, live in this State. Brother White Oak 
 is by far the most common and well known. He is the senior member of our family and 
 has attained a very great age. He never thrives in perfection except in a good soil and 
 in a temperate climate. The Michigan people are proud that so many of our family live 
 with them. 
 
 Tulip Tree. — White Oak is certainly loyal to his family, but I should like to hear the 
 uses of his tree. 
 
1 4 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Burr Oak. — Every particle of him is useful, even to his ashes. His bark is used for 
 tanning leather; his wood is hard, compact, heavy, tough and durable, good for heavy 
 wagons, plows, railroad ties, fence posts, ship timber, furniture, and finishing the interior 
 of houses. 
 
 Swamp White Oak (Leona). — As much of my timber is so nearly like that of White 
 Oak, and often passes for it, I will say, as a tree, " I am beautiful in every stage of my 
 growth ; at first, light, slender, delicate and waving; at last, broad, massive and grand, 
 but always graceful." 
 
 Chestnut Oak (James). — Emerson says of White Oak: "As an ornament to the land- 
 scape, or as a single object, no other tree is to be compared with it, in every period of 
 its growth, for picturesqueness, majesty, and inexhaustible variety of beauty. When 
 standing alone it throws out its mighty arms with an air of force and grandeur which have 
 made it everywhere to be considered the fittest emblem of strength and power of resist- 
 ance. Commonly the oak braves the storm to the last, without yielding, better than any 
 other tree. The limbs go out at a great an<jle and stretch horizontally to a vast distance." 
 
 Laurel Oak (John). — The famous A. J. Downing said: " There are no grander or more 
 superb trees than our American oaks. We are fully disposed to concede it the first rank 
 among the denizens of the forest. As an ornamental object we consider the oak the 
 most varied in expression, the most beautiful, grand, majestic and picturesque of all 
 deciduous trees." 
 
 Black Jack Oak (Herbert). — Poetry, history, mythology and romance abound in 
 references to the oak. I should like to hear from our fellow trees some common quota- 
 tions in reference to the oak. 
 
 White Ash (Myrtie). — "The unwedgeable and gnarled oak." 
 
 Black Ash (Ella). — " The old oaken bucket." 
 
 Sugar Maple (Louise). — " Jove's own tree that holds the woods in awful sovereignty." 
 
 Red Maple (Anna). — " A goodly oak, whose boughs were mass'd with age." 
 
 Scarlet Oak (Ben.). — " King of the woods." 
 
 Blue Ash (Amy). — " Thy guardian oaks, my country, are thy boast." 
 
 Silver Maple (Kate). — " The monarch oak, the patriarch of trees." 
 
 Butternut (Burke). — "The oak for grandeur, strength and noble size, excels all trees 
 that in the forest grow." 
 
 Black Walnut (Frank). — " Tall oaks from little acorns grow." 
 
 Buttonwood (Harrison). — 
 
 " AVoodman, forbear thy stroke ! 
 Cut not its earth-bound ties; 
 Oh, spare that aged oak, 
 
 Now towering to the skies ! " 
 
 Sassafras (Henry). — 
 
 " Behold yon oak, 
 How stern he frowns." 
 
 Pepperidge (Walter). — "The glory of the woods." 
 Buckeye (Samuel). — 
 
 " Proud monarch of the forest ! 
 
 That once, a sapling bough, 
 Didst quail far more at evening's breath 
 
 Than at the tempest now. 
 Strange scenes have passed, long ages roll'd 
 
 Since first upon thy stem. 
 Then weak as osier twig, spring set 
 Her leafy diadem." 
 
 Red Oak (Lulu). — I begin to feel my pride rising and hope White Oak will give me a 
 chance to quote a poem written in honor of one of our family. 
 White Oak — (Bows). 
 Red Oak.— 
 
 " A glorious tree is the old gray oak." 
 
 (From " The Oak " by Geo. Hill. See Index ) 
 
 Scarlet Oak (Otto). — That poem which Red Oak quoted reminded me of an old 
 saying of Dr. Holmes: He says : " I wonder if you ever thought of a single mark of 
 supremacy which distinguishes this tree from those around it ? The others shirk the 
 work of resisting gravity, the Oak defies it. It chooses the horizontal direction for its 
 limbs so that their whole weight may tell, and then stretches them out fifty or sixty feet 
 so that the strain may be mighty enough to be worth resisting. You will find that in 
 passing from the extreme downward droop of the branches of the Weeping Willow to 
 the extreme upward inclination of those of the Poplar, they sweep nearly half a circle. 
 At ninety degrees the Oak stops short ; to slant upward another degree would mark 
 infirmity of purpose ; to bend downwacd weakness of organizatiefh.'' 
 
 Black Oak (Ruby). — What the Oak said sounds scientific. I want to tell you some- 
 thing that begins with " once upon a time." Once upon a time the devil agreed with a 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 15 
 
 man that he should have* the latter's soul at the time when the oak leaves fell ; but when 
 he came to look at the oak in the au umn he found it still in leaf, nor did it part with its 
 old leaves till the new ones began to sprout. In his rage and disappointment he 
 scratched the leaves so vehemently that the}' have been in consequence jagged ever 
 since. 
 
 White Oak. — These are certainly good words for the Oak family. We will next listen 
 to some music from the little birds — our very dear friends. 
 
 White Oak. — We shall next hear from the Maples, of which there are six in our State. 
 They are cousins to the Buckeye, Bladdernut, and Box-elder, all of which belong to the 
 Maple family. 
 
 Sugar Maple (Louise). — I am a favorite ornamental tree. Poets of all ages have sung 
 about the Oak. I am no sweet Singer of Michigan, but I am possessed of sweetness. I 
 claim to have made more boys and girls happy than any other tree. I have many changes 
 in dress — wearing in spring the softest shade of every color ; in the summer the purest 
 emerald, and in the autumn the most brilliant yellow. My wood is used for furniture, 
 floors, and for furnishing the interior of houses, and after the houses are finished few 
 can warm them better than I. 
 
 Red Maple (Mary). — I am often called Soft Maple, a name also applied to one of my 
 sisters. I beautify the country in spring with early red blossoms, and in autumn my 
 leaves are streaked with scarlet. 
 
 Silver Maple (Jennie). — My sister Red Mapie and myself are both called Soft Maple. 
 I make a very rapid growth and am found by the side of streams. I am often planted 
 as a shade tree, and in the far West many are planted for shelter belts and for timber. 
 
 Bass Wood (Maud). — I am a fine shade tree, my home a moist, rich soil. My fragrant 
 flowers furnish a great amount of excellent hone}' for the bees at a time when most other 
 flowers have disappeared. My timber is soft, light and touarh. and not apt to split, good 
 for cabinet work, boxes, broom handles, etc. 
 
 Black Cherry (Ethel). — With our beautiful blossoms we need not be envious of the 
 orange groves of California. I am one large snowball cf blossoms in the spring. My 
 fruit is much liked by the birds, and my wood is fine, light, durable and looks much like 
 mahogany. My cousins are the wild plum, crab-apple, mountain ash, hawthorn, June- 
 berry, spiraea, the apple, pear, quince, and the peach, and we all belong to the Rose 
 family. 
 
 Black Walnut (Frank). — I am not ornamental, nor am I a good neighbor, for I some- 
 times poison other trees that live near me. In spite of my bad qualities, I am liked 
 because I can be converted into cash at any moment. Some of my brothers have sold as 
 high as $2,000. Those who care for us care for a fortune. My relative, the Butternut, 
 is much loved by boys and girls. It was round my brother at Haverstraw, on the Hud- 
 son, that General Wayne mustered his forces at midnight, preparatory to his attack on 
 Stony Point. 
 
 Hickory (Rav). — There are four brothers of us in Michigan, but I am the least worthy 
 of them all, and am the only one present at this convention. We are cousins of the Wal- 
 nut and Butternut and all belong to the Walnut family. If you want a wood that is good 
 for buggies, ax handles, barrel hoops, a wood like iron, call upon my brother the Shag- 
 bark. You will have all the nuts you want thrown into the bargain. Once upon a time 
 there was a president of the country who had so many of mv qualities that they called 
 him Old Hickory. 
 
 White Oak. — We will sing about the " echo which in the forest dwells.'' 
 
 White Oak. — We will next hear a few words from the Ashes. (Three rise and stand 
 till all are through.) 
 
 White Ash (Myrtie). — I am a tall tree and have often been complimented for my use- 
 fulness. I have been told that I have a graceful top and beautiful pinnate leaves. My 
 wood is heavy, hard, strong, coarse-grained, compact, and of a brown color, and is much 
 used for cabinet ware, farm implements, and house finishing. I thrive on rich moist soil. 
 
 Blue Ash (Amy). — I am not often found in Michigan. I grow slowly and attain a 
 good size. My wood is valuable for lumber, posts and sills. I may be distinguished 
 from all other Ashes by the square branches of a year's growth. 
 
 Black Ash (Ella). — I thrive in swamps and along streams, and become a large, useful 
 tree. My wood is used for furniture, barrel-hoops and baskets. When well cared for, I 
 become one of the finest ornamental trees. For this purpose I have never been fully 
 appreciated. The Ashes belong to the Olive family. We have been called musical, as 
 in this quotation: 
 
 " Ye Ashes wild resounding o'er the steep, 
 Delicious is your music to the soul." 
 
 White Oak. — Who will speak next ? (A number rise.) Birch has the floor. 
 
 Birch (William). — I am a useful factor in the cause of education, though not now so com- 
 monly found in the school-room as in former years. There are five sisters of us Birches 
 in Michigan. The Alders are our cousins. Probably you are best acquainted with the 
 
3 i6 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Canoe Birch, whose white wood you see in spools and shoe pegs. It gives up its beauti- 
 ful white dress without any injur}' to itself. Longfellow has made us a celebrated family 
 in Hiawatha. He says of us: 
 
 " Give me of your bark, O Birch tree ! " 
 
 (From " The Story of Hiawatha." See Index.) 
 
 White Oak. — Let us hear from the Elms. 
 
 American Elm ;Lida). — I have been called the Queen of the Forest, and stand without 
 a rival at the head of the list of ornamental deciduous leaved trees. I claim this rank on 
 account of hardiness, rapid growth, and the graceful and majestic beauty of my drooping 
 branches. We are very proud of our Massachusetts relative under whose venerable 
 shade Washington first took command of the Continental army, July 3. 1775. How the 
 affection of every lover of his country clings around that tree! What care has been 
 taken of it, what marks of esteem have been shown it by the citizens of Cambridge, may 
 be judged by those who have seen it standing, as it does, in the center of a great public 
 thoroughfare, its trunk protected by an iron fence from injury by passing vehicles, which 
 for more than a century have turned out in deference to this monarch of the Revolution. 
 
 Red Elm (Claude). — I am well known for my durable red wood and mucilaginous 
 bark and am often called " Slippery Elm." My sister. Rock Elm, is a fine tree with 
 corky branches, and the wood is valuable for farm implements. 
 
 Hackberry (Otis). — I am one of the poor cousins of the Elms, and am little known. I 
 am sometimes called the Nettle tree, and I am afraid Michigan people are not on speak- 
 ing terms with me. Allow me to tell you about my German relative, the Luther Elm, 
 near Worms. It is said to have been planted as follows: A bigoted old Catholic lady, 
 thrusting a stick in the ground, declared her resolution not to accept the new faith till 
 that dry stick became green. The fact that it did so proved the interest taken by trees 
 in the preservation of orthodox) - . 
 
 Red Mulberry (Robert). — I am another obscure cousin of the Elms and not often seen 
 in Michigan. The birds are fond of my berries and the wood is as valuable as cedar for 
 posts. Let me praise the Elm. 
 
 " Hail to the Elm ! the brave old Elm ! 
 
 Our last lone forest tree, 
 Whose limbs outstand the lightning's brand, 
 
 For a brave old Elm is he ! 
 For fifteen score of full-told years, 
 
 He has borne his leafy prime, 
 Yet he holds them well, and lives to tell 
 
 His tale of the olden time ! " 
 
 White Oak. — Let us all repeat the lines of N. S. Dodge in praise of the Queen of the 
 
 Forest. 
 
 " Then hail to the Elm ! the green-topp'd Elm ! 
 And long may his branches wave, 
 For a relic is he, the gnarl'd old tree, 
 Of the times of the good and brave." 
 
 White Oak. — We will have another song about the birds (or any other subject). 
 
 White Oak. — We have heard nothing from the Willows. 
 
 Willow (Marion). — I live near the water and my wood is made into the strangest things, 
 artificial limbs, tooth-picks, ball clubs and gunpowder. Some of us are called " Pussy 
 Willows." 
 
 Elizabeth Allen has written this lovely poem to my sister, the Weeping Willow of 
 Europe, who has been for years mourning something to us unknown. 
 
 " O, Willow, why forever weep, 
 
 As one who mourns an endless wrong ? 
 What hidden woe can lie so deep ? 
 
 What utter grief can last so long ? 
 Mourn on forever, unconsoled. 
 
 And keep your secret, faithful tree 
 No heart in allthe world can hold 
 
 A sweeter grace than constancy." 
 
 The Poplar (Cara). — There are five sisters of us Poplars who live in Michigan. One is 
 called Cotton Wood, and two are called Aspens. We are cousins of the Willows and all 
 belong to the Willow family. I will read some lines of the poets: 
 
 " Why tremble so, broad Aspen-tree ? 
 Why shake thy leaves ne'er ceasing ? 
 At rest thou never seem'st to be, 
 
 For when the air is still and clear, 
 Or when the nipping gale, increasing, 
 
 Shakes from thy boughs soft twilight's tear, 
 Thou tremblest still, broad Aspen-tree, 
 And never tranquil seem'st to be." 
 
 
ARBOR DAY MA N UAL. 3 I 7 
 
 White Oak. — We ought to hear from Red Bud and Sassafras and Pepperidge and But- 
 tonwood or Sycamore, who live in our forests, but they do not appear to be present at 
 this convention. Our exercises would not be complete without hearing from the mem- 
 bers of the Pine family or cone-bearing trees. 
 
 White Pine (Sylvia). — I am one of the tallest and largest, most common, well-known 
 and valuable trees of the State. In Europe, where some of my number have been intro- 
 duced, they often call me Weymouth Pine. My leaves are long, light green and in clus- 
 ters of five. As a long-lived and beautiful tree for ornamenting rural grounds and parks, 
 I take a high rank, while an immense amount of valuable lumber is cut from my wood. 
 
 White Oak. — Let us hear from another Pine of Michigan. 
 
 Red Pine (Naoma. ) — I am often called Norway Pine, though I do not know why. I 
 never lived in Norway but am only found in North America. I am a tall, straight tree, 
 with long evergreen leaves in clusters of two. I grow slowly, making valuable timber 
 which is much harder than that of White Pine. For ornamental purposes I much re- 
 semble Austrian Pine, though much superior to that tree, if we rely on the opinions of 
 noted horticulturists. 
 
 White Oak. — The White Pine and Red Pine have a sister Pine in Michigan. We shall 
 now give her an opportunity to speak. 
 
 Gray Pine (Rose). — I am a tree of small size, found on poor land in Northern Michi- 
 gan. When young my growth is rapid; my leaves grow in pairs and are quite short. 
 My wood abounds in pitch. I am known by a variety of names, as Scrub Pine, Jack 
 Pine, Buckwheat Pine, Black Pine, Crocodile Pine, but the name I like the best is Pinus 
 Banksiana. 
 
 I want to tell you what Ruskin says: " The tremendous unity of the pine absorbs and 
 molds the life of a race. The pine shadows rest upon a nation. The Northern people, 
 century after century, lived under one or other of the two great powers of the pine and 
 the sea, both infinite. They dwelt amidst the forests or they wandered on the waves, and 
 saw no end or any other horizon. Still the dark green trees, or the dark green waters 
 jagged the dawn with their fringe or their foam, and whatever elements of imagination 
 or of warrior strength or of domestic justice were brought down by the Norwegian or the 
 Goth against the dissoluteness or degradation of the south of Europe, were taught them 
 under the green roofs and wild penetralia of the pine." 
 
 White Oak. — We have another cone-bearing tree in attendance. I call on 
 
 Hemlock Spruce (Agnes). — I have been called by students in art and botany and horti- 
 culture " the most beautiful coniferous hard}' tree yet known." I grow to a good height 
 and acquire a large size. My evergreen leaves have delicate tints, my young branches 
 droop gracefully. As a timber tree I do not claim the highest honor. My bark is valu- 
 able for tanning leather. 
 
 White Oak. — There are two other sister evergreens called " Spruces " I see in the 
 audience. 
 
 Black Spruce (Rhoda). — I abound in swamps in Northern Michigan. I am often used 
 for Christmas trees on festive occasions, and boys and girls search me over for a supply 
 of first-class gum. I am not responsible, though, for all the gum that goes by my name. 
 Within a few years my wood has been largely used to make white paper. 
 
 White Oak. — ■ I recognize another evergreen. I call on 
 
 Red Cedar (Clara). — In summer my leaves are beautiful, but in winter they become 
 brown. I am found only sparingly in any part of the world, though I am the mojt widely 
 distributed of any tree in the United States. I grow slowly and produce a beautiful red, 
 fragrant wood, which is soft and very durable. My wood is now mainly limited to the 
 making of lead pencils. 
 
 White Oak. — Let us next hear from 
 
 Balsam Fir (Alice). — I am a rather small, slender evergreen found in swamps, though 
 often cultivated as an ornament about dwellings. I arrive at my prime when about four- 
 teen years old. 
 
 White Oak. — I shall now call on 
 
 Arbor Vitse (Maud). — I thrive in the swamps of the North and afford shelter to wild 
 animals. I am often called white cedar and I furnish most of the telegraph poles, some 
 fence posts, railway ties and blocks for paving streets. I take a high place as an orna- 
 mental tree. 
 
 White Oak. — We have now heard from all of the cone-bearing evergreen trees who are 
 present. There is another tree of the State, not here present, which is cone-bearing, and 
 belongs to the Pine family. I refer to the Tamarack. 
 
 There are some other matters appropriate to Arbor Day which should demand our 
 attention at this time. How do the trees of Michigan compare in beauty and variety 
 with those of Great Britain of which we read so much? 
 
 Susie. — The farther north we go the fewer kinds of trees we find; the farther south, 
 the greater the variety. Great Britain and Ireland contain more than twice the area of 
 Michigan. They have one bassvvood, not so good as ours ; one very small maple, one 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 cherry, one small ash, two elms, two poplars, one beech, one small birch, one pine, one 
 oak much like our white oak. Great Britain has about ten species of trees native to her 
 soil, while Michigan, with half the territory, has about ninety species, or nine times as 
 great a variety. 
 
 White Oak. — For some interesting points in reference to nuts and seeds I call on 
 Red Maple. — Last autumn the hazels, beeches, chestnuts, oaks, hickories, walnuts 
 and buckeyes matured their fruit, and with this maturing the burs, or cups, or husks, 
 opened or the stems snapped in two at a joint which began to form months before. If a 
 bur or nut held fast too tenaciously, the frost made it willing to drop, and down it went 
 with hundreds of others, among the leaves. 
 
 The leaves, with the help of the shifting winds, gently covered the fruit — or some 
 portions of it. The leaves make the best kind of protection from dry air and severe 
 cold, and they come just at the right time. All the seeds are not covered, but Dame 
 Nature is generous. She produces an abundance; enough for seed and enough to feed 
 the birds, squirrels, and other animals. 
 
 White Oak. — We want to hear a word about Nature's tree-planters, the squirrels, 
 birds and other animals. 
 
 Basswood — The squirrels eat many nuts, but carry a portion to some distance in every 
 direction, where they plant one or two in a place. It may be the thought of the squirrel 
 to return at some future time of need, but his bump of locality is not well developed or 
 he has laid up more than he needed. At all events some of the nuts are allowed to 
 remain where he planted them. In this way he is a benefit to the trees, and pays for the 
 nuts which he eats. He has not lived in vain, for he is a tree-planter and believes in 
 arboriculture. His Arbor days come in autumn, and he needs no gubernatorial message 
 to stimulate him to work. 
 
 White Oak. — This subject will be continued by 
 
 White Spruce (Adeline). — Many of our trees and shrubs produce a fleshy fruit or 
 berry. Among them are the mountain ash, service berry, wild crab apple, hawthorn, 
 cherry, holly, viburnum, pepperidge, hackberry, mulberry, sassafras, wild plum, per- 
 simmon, paw paw, cedars and junipers. Many of these when ripe are rendered con- 
 spicuous by brilliant colors. The fruits are eagerly sought by grouse, turkeys, deer, 
 bear, and other animals. In most cases the seeds of such fruits are protected by a very 
 firm covering and are not digestible. They are sown broadcast by wild animals under 
 circumstances most favorable for germination. The birds, too, belong to the society of 
 tree planters. 
 
 White Oak. — We will next listen to some accounts of the wind as a sower of seeds. 
 Sassafras (lona). — Some trees produce dry seed or seed-pods, and usually drop only a 
 portion in autumn. They hold on to some seeds with considerable tenacity. Among 
 these are the buttonwood, basswood, ironwood, blue beech, box-elder, hop tree, tulip 
 tree, the ashes, catalpa, locust, Judas tree, birches, alders, larches, pines, spruces. The 
 fruit or the seed is thin, or provided with wings, which distribute them as they fall, or 
 after they have fallen. In winter it needs but a slight packing of the snow to bear up the 
 seeds. At such times, some of the seeds are torn from the trees by the wind, and may 
 be seen sliding along like miniature ice boats, often half a mile or more from the nearest 
 tree. The wind also aids in transporting the seeds of our elms, maples, willows and 
 poplars. 
 
 White Oak. — Next listen to something more about seeds. 
 
 Red Bud (Cynthia). — A seed is a young plant and is packed ready for transportation. 
 It has a tiny stem, some seed leaves and a terminal bud. The mother tree before casting 
 off her progeny into the world, did not fail to give it a little outfit in the form of starch 
 for food stored up in or surrounding the thick seed leaves. As the young chicks while 
 in the shell are nourished by the yolk of the egg, so the young oak or maple subsists on 
 the starch stored up before ripening. 
 
 White Oak. — When do our trees make their growth and how do they get ready for the 
 next year? 
 
 Box Elder (Nina). — Most of our trees put forth their new growth during a few weeks 
 in spring or early summer. Do 3-011 wonder what they are doing during the rest of the 
 warm weather? They are by no means idle. They may be perfecting flowers and seeds, 
 but all of them are getting ready for the next winter and spring. Through the influence 
 of light and heat, the green leaves are forming starch, which is transported and stored 
 in the pith, voung wood and bark. The young leaves and stems are started and 
 arranged, packed in cotton, covered by scales and in some cases the scales are protected 
 by pitch or varnish. 
 
 White Oak. — Next in order will be a few words in regard to the tree as a community. 
 
 Buckeye (Douglass). — A tree is a composite being, a kind of community by itself. 
 
 The leaves and limbs are all the time striving with each other to see which shall have the 
 
 most room and the most sunshine. Each strives for all it can get. While some perish 
 
 in the attempt or meet with only very indifferent success, the strongest of the strongest 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 319 
 
 buds survive. Each leaf helps to sustain the limb which carries it, and each limb fur- 
 nishes some nourishment to the common trunk for the common welfare. The tax is 
 always adjusted according to the ability of each to contribute. As the limbs of a tree are 
 striving for the mastery, so each bush and tree in grove or forest is striving with others 
 for the mastery. The weakest succumb to the strongest ; some perish early, some lead 
 a feeble existence for man)' years, while even the strongest are more or less injured. 
 With plenty of room, the trunk will be short, the branches many and widespread ; where 
 crowded the lower limbs perish for want of light. Dead limbs fall to the ground to pro- 
 tect and enrich it for nourishing the surviving limbs and the trunk. The scars heal over, 
 more limbs perish as new ones creep upward, and thus we find tall, clean trunks in a 
 dense forest. 
 
 White Oak. — To be successful, it is very important to know how to gather and care 
 for seeds and nuts. 
 
 Yellow Wood (Robert). — Gather the seeds or nuts of trees when ripe and, if con- 
 venient, plant them where the trees are expected to remain. In this list we include 
 especially the trees which have long tap roots, and do not easily transplant, such as the 
 tulip tree, the hickories, the oaks, the walnuts and chestnuts. The seeds of elms and 
 maples are not easily kept over winter. Seeds of evergreens, the larch, and the locusts 
 may be dried and kept as grain is kept. Many seeds and nuts may be mixed with an 
 equal bulk of sand as it is dug from a knoll, and buried a few inches or a foot below 
 the surface. In spring they may be carried to the garden and planted. Soak seeds of 
 locust and honey locust in hot water till the outer covering softens, and then plant. 
 Soak seeds of evergreens three or four days in water, changed daily, and then plant very 
 shallow in rows a few inches apart in rich loam, well screened by lath, brush or muslin. 
 See that weeds do not rob the young plants of light, room and nourishment. Evergreens 
 in small quantity, when small and two or three years old, can be purchased of experts 
 more cheaply than they can be raised at home. These can be set in rows and cultivated 
 for a few years like Indian corn. For further details you are advised to read copies of 
 our State horticultural reports, take lessons of a nurseryman, or go to the Agricultural 
 College. 
 
 White Oak. — It is of little use to plant seeds or buy trees, unless we know how to 
 handle them while moving. 
 
 Kentucky Coffee Tree (Hiram). — In taking up a tree, whether large or small, do not 
 twist it about so as to break or bend the roots abruptly. Get all the roots vou can afford 
 to, remembering that a tree will not grow without roots. 
 
 When out of the ground keep the roots constantly covered with soil, moss, damp 
 straw or something else. The roots are far more sensitive to dry air than the parts above 
 ground. No one need wonder that trees carted into town with short roots exposed to dry 
 air, often fail to grow, or lead a precarious life for years. Study the structure and the physi- 
 ology of a tree and treat it as one who always makes everything thrive which he cares for. 
 
 White Oak. — How shall we care for the trees after planting? 
 
 Apple Tree (Hannah). — To set a tree so as to insure its thrifty growth, place it but 
 little deeper than it was while growing. Have the soil well pulverized and pack it 
 closely about the tree. 
 
 After all this trouble, do not court disappointment in the slow growth or in the death 
 of a favorite tree, but dig or rake the ground every week or two, all summer for three to 
 five years, for a distance of four feet or more each way from the tree. If this is imprac- 
 ticable, place a mulch of something covering the space above mentioned. 
 
 White Oak. — After planting, trees sometimes become too thick. What shall we do? 
 
 Pear Tree (Andrew). — A tree, like a child, is a living, organized being and keeps 
 changing as long as life lasts. It is not best merely to set as many trees as we expect to 
 remain for a life-time, but plant them more thickly with a view to removal. Here is 
 where ninety-nine out of one hundred fail. They do not keep an eye on the growth and 
 trim or remove trees until they have crowded and damaged each other beyond recovery. 
 In most instances, a few large, well-developed trees should grow where many small ones 
 were planted years before. It needs courage and judgment to remove some favorite 
 trees that others may continue to spread and make a symmetrical growth. 
 
 White Oak. — Next will follow something in reference to the flowers of trees. 
 
 Bitternut (Silas). — With rare exceptions, our trees bear flowers which, are incon- 
 spicuous. The elms and the maples produce flowers in spring before the leaves appear. 
 Most have the staminate and pistillate flowers on different parts of the tree or on differ- 
 ent trees. The wind or gravity carries the pollen to the pistil, so there is no need of 
 sweet odors or a gay display of flowers to attract bees and butterflies and moths to carry 
 the pollen. Compensation is well displayed in nature. If the tree has not gorgeous or 
 fragrant flowers, it has a large size and often a beautiful form. 
 
 White Oak. — We should learn to love trees and to associate them with the generous 
 hand who planted and cared for them. 
 
 Wild Plum (Ezra). — I will tell you something which was written by Washington Irving: 
 "There is something noble, simple and pure in a taste for trees. It argues, I think, a 
 
,20 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 sweet and generous nature to have this strong relish for the beauties of vegetation, and 
 this friendship for the hardy and glorious sons of the forest. There is a grandeur of 
 thought connected with this part of rural economy. It is worthy of liberal and free-born 
 and aspiring men. He who plants an oak looks forward to future ages, and plants for 
 posterity. Nothing can be less selfish than this. He cannot expect to sit in its shade 
 nor enjoy its shelter ; but he exults in the idea that the acorn which he has buried in the 
 earth shall grow up into a lofty pile, and shall keep on flourishing and increasing and 
 benefiting mankind long after he shall have ceased to tread his paternal fields." 
 
 White Oak. — We will hear what O. W. Holmes says on this subject. 
 
 Tamarack (Elias). — Dr. O. W. Holmes says: " I have written many verses, but the 
 best poems I have produced are the trees I planted on the hill-side which overlooks the 
 broad meadows, scalloped and rounded at their edges by loops of t*./e sinuous Housa- 
 tonic. Nature finds rhymes for them in the recurring measures of the seasons. Winter 
 strips them of their ornaments and gives them, as it were, in prose translation, and sum- 
 mer reclothes them in all the splendid phrases of their leafy language. 
 
 "What are these maples and beeches and birches but odes and idyls and madrigals? 
 What are these pines and firs and spruces but holy rhymes, too solemn for the many-hued 
 raiment of their gay deciduous neighbors? 
 
 "As you drop the seed, as you plant the sapling, your left hand hardly knows what 
 your right hand is doing. But nature knows, and in due time the power that sees and 
 works in secret will reward you openly." 
 
 White Oak. — This concludes what we had on the program for this convention. 
 
 Hemlock. — I move we have some more music and then adjourn. 
 
 White Oak. — If there be no objections we shall have the music. 
 
 White Oak. — This convention stands adjourned until again convened by the proper 
 authorities. 
 
 Written for the "Arbor Day Manual. 
 
 PLANT THE OAK. 
 
 COME plant the Oak, the grand old Oak, 
 England's ancestral tree ! 
 They call her sailors " hearts of oak," 
 For bravery on the sea. 
 
 America, the rebel child, 
 
 Outgrown the Mother's hand, 
 
 May call her soldiers "hearts of oak," 
 For bravery on the land. 
 
 South Sod us, iV. Y. 
 
 Her flag is known in every land, 
 
 Her ships plow every sea ; 
 She pays no tribute, holds no slaves, 
 
 Her children all are free. 
 
 Then plant the Oak, the brave young Oak! 
 
 'Twill thrive in freedom's clime 
 And spread its greenest banners out 
 
 To the breeze in glad spring-time. 
 
 Mrs. Addie V. McMuelex. 
 
 WHEN to the flowers so beautiful 
 The Father gave a name, 
 Back came a little blue-eyed one 
 
 (All timidly it came;) 
 And standing at its Father's feet 
 And gazing in His face 
 
 FORGET-ME-NOT. 
 
 It said, in low and trembling tones: 
 
 " Dear God, the name thou gavest me, 
 Alas ! I have forgot," 
 
 Kindly the Father looked him down 
 And said : "Forget-me-not." 
 
 I know not which I love the most, The pansy in her purple dress, 
 
 Nor which the comeliest shows, The pink with cheek of red, 
 
 The timid, bashful violet, Or the faint fair heliotrope, who hangs, 
 
 Or the royal hearted rose : Like a bashful maid, her head; 
 
 For I love and prize you one and all, 
 
 From the least low bloom of spring 
 To the lily fair, whose clothes outshine 
 
 The raiment of a king. Phcebe Cary. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. , 2 T 
 
 TREES. 
 
 TREES are indeed the glory, the beauty, and the delight of nature. * * * 
 In what one imaginable attribute, that it ought to possess, is a tree, pray, 
 deficient? Light, shade, shelter, coolness, freshness, music, all the colors of 
 the rainbow, dew and dreams dropping through their umbrageous twilight at 
 eve or morn, dropping direct, soft, sweet, soothing, and restorative, from 
 heaven. * * * 
 
 We love you all ! And love you all we shall, while our dim eyes can catch 
 the glimmer, our dull ears the murmur, of the leaves, or our imagination hear, 
 at midnight, the far-off swing of old branches groaning in the tempest. * * * 
 
 Not that we hold it to be a matter of pure indifference how people plant 
 trees. We have an eye for the picturesque, the sublime, and the beautiful, and 
 cannot open it without seeing at once the very spirit of the scene. O, ye who 
 have had the happiness to be born among the murmurs of hereditary trees ! 
 Can ye be blind to the system pursued by that planter — Nature ? Nature 
 plants often on a great scale, darkening, far as the telescope can command the 
 umbrage, sides of mountains that are heard roaring still with hundreds of 
 hidden cataracts. And Nature often plants on a small scale, dropping down 
 the stately birk so beautiful, among the sprinkled hazels, by the side of the 
 little waterfall of the wimpling burnie, that stands disheveling there her 
 tresses to the dew-wind, like a queen's daughter, who hath just issued from a 
 pool of pearls and shines aloft and aloof from her attendant maidens. 
 
 But man is so proud of his own works that he ceases to regard those of 
 Nature. Why keep poring on that book of plates, purchased at less than half 
 price at a sale, when Nature flutters before your eyes her own folio, which all 
 who run may read; although to study it as it ought to be studied, you must 
 certainly sit down on mossy stump, ledge of an old bridge, stone-wall, stream- 
 bank, or broomy brae, and gaze, and gaze, and gaze, till woods and sky become 
 like your very self, and your very self like them, at once incorporated together 
 and spiritualized. After a few 3 r ears' such lessons you may become a planter; 
 and under your hands not only shall the desert blossom like the rose, but 
 murmur like the palm, and if "southward through Eden goes a river large," 
 and your name be Adam, what a sceptic not to believe )rourself the first of 
 men, your wife the fairest of her daughters Eve, and your policy Paradise ! 
 
 Professor Wilson, 
 
 Let dead names be eternized by dead stone, 
 
 Whose substance time cannot increase nor mar ; 
 
 Let living names by living shafts be known, 
 That feel the influence of sun and star. 
 
 Plant thou a tree, whose griefless leaves shall sing 
 Thy deed and thee, each fresh unfolding spring. 
 
 Edith M. Thomas. 
 
 21 
 
322 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 WHAT DO WE PLANT? 
 
 WHAT do we plant when we plant the tree ? 
 We plant the ship, which will cross the sea. 
 We plant the mast to carry the sails ; 
 We plant the plank to withstand the gales. 
 The keel, the keelson, and beam and knee ; 
 We plant the ship when we plant the tree. 
 
 What do we plant when we plant the tree ? 
 We plant the houses for you and me. 
 We plant the rafters, the shingles, the floors, 
 We plant the studding, the lath, the doors, 
 The beams and siding, all parts that be ; 
 We plant the house when we plant the tree. 
 
 What do we plant when we plant the tree ? 
 A thousand things that we daily see. 
 We plant-the spire that out-towers the crag, 
 We plant the staff for our country's flag. 
 We plant the shade, from the hot sun free ; 
 We plant all these when we plant the tree. 
 
 Henry Abbey, 
 
 DEAR ELM, IT IS OF THEE. 
 
 DEAR Elm it is of thee, 
 Emblem of dignity, 
 Of thee we sing. 
 Now do we children raise, 
 Songs of most joyful praise. 
 To thee our choicest lays, 
 We now do bring. 
 
 Let hills and vales resound, 
 Our hearts with rapture bound, 
 
 As round thee cling, 
 More graceful than the vine, 
 More cheering than the wine, 
 School joys of '89 
 
 Our mem'ries bring. 
 
 Hail our dear school to thee, 
 May Buffalo never see 
 Thy prestige less ; 
 May true ones throng thy halls, 
 May trained ones leave thy walls, 
 Summoned by world-wide calls, 
 Mankind to bless. 
 Sung at the Le Couteulx St. Mary's Institution for the Improved Instruction of Deaf- 
 Mutes. Buffalo, May 3, 1SS9. 
 
 "There is an Arabian proverb that, with the planting of a tree, a blessing 
 comes to him who drops the seed." 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL 
 
 323 
 
 ARBOR DAY. 
 
 NOW a strong, fair shoot, from the forest bring, 
 Gently the roots in the soft earth lay ; 
 God bless with His sunshine, and wind and rain, 
 The tree we are planting on Arbor Day. 
 
 May it greenly grow for a hundred years ; 
 
 And our children's children beneath it play, 
 Gather the fruit and rest in the shade 
 
 Of the tree we are planting on Arbor Day. 
 
 So may our life be an upward growth, 
 In wisdom's soil every rootlet lay, 
 
 And every tree bearing precious fruit, 
 
 Like the tree we are planting on Arbor Day. 
 
 ARBOR DAY AND THE CHILDREN. 
 
 EXTRACT from an address delivered at Lancaster, Pa., April 16, 1885, by 
 Hon. E. E. Higbee, late State Superintendent of Public Instruction of 
 Pennsylvania : 
 
 While we would by no means neglect on such an occasion to call attention to 
 the great economic use of forests, the perils attending their wanton destruction, 
 the necessity of prompt and watchful care lest through the rapid march of civi- 
 lization we bring upon ourselves the very evils we seek to avoid, and consume 
 what earth so freely gives us without any thought that she may be so impover- 
 ished at last as to seek alms of us — for the growth of forests requires years, 
 but their destruction scarcely a day — while we would not neglect reflections 
 such as these, and would keep up from year to year a spirited and concerted 
 action against our dangers by planting along roadsides, in parks and yards, and 
 arou'nd every school building, trees, and shrubs, and vines, and flowers ; vet we 
 would, with special emphasis, call the children to a wholesome converse with 
 Nature herself; would withdraw them from the restraints of books and recita- 
 tion tasks, and woo them to her shady haunts, her valleys and hills, to deepen 
 in their souls a sense of her life and a delight in her beauty, and some clear and 
 sympathetic feeling of perpetual companionship ; * * * they should learn 
 to love Nature with such tender reverence as never to abuse or profane her; 
 and, inspired by such love, the)'- should seek her help in making home, or 
 school, or village, or city, a comforting delight, a culturing power, a presence 
 of beauty through life. 
 
 "Jock, when ye hae naething else to do, ye may be sticking in a tree; it will 
 be growing, Jock, when ye're sleeping." 
 
 HigJihmd Laird of Scotland. 
 
- 2/ . ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 A DISCOURSE ON TREES. 
 
 TO the great tree-loving fraternity we belong. We love trees with uni- 
 versal and unfeigned love, and all things that do grow under them, or 
 around them — "the whole leaf and root tribe." Not alone where they are in 
 their glory, but in whatever state they are — in leaf, or ruined with frost, or 
 powdered with snow, or crystal-sheathed in ice, or in severe outline stripped 
 and bare against a November sky — we love them. Our heart warms at the 
 sight of even a board or a log. A lumber yard is better than nothing. The 
 smell of wood, at least, is there, the savory fragrance of resin, as sweet as 
 myrrh and frankincense ever was to a Jew. If we can get nothing better, we 
 love to read over the names of trees in a catalogue. Many an hour have we 
 sat at night, when after exciting work, we needed to be quieted, and read nur- 
 serymen's catalogues, and Lopdon's Encyclopedias, and Arboretum, until the 
 smell of the woods exhaled from the page, and the sound of leaves was in our 
 ears, and sylvan glades opened to our eyes that would have made old Chaucer 
 laugh and indite a rapturous rush of lines. 
 
 But how much more do we love trees in all their summer pomp and pleni- 
 tude. Not for their names and affinities, not for their secret physiology, and as 
 material for science, not for any reason that we can give, except that when 
 with them we are happy. The eye is full, the ear is full, the whole sense and 
 all the tastes solaced, and our whole nature rejoices with that various and full 
 happiness which one has when the soul is suspended in the midst of Beetho- 
 ven's symphonies and is lifted hither and thither, as if blown by sweet sounds 
 through the airy passage of a full heavenly dream. 
 
 Our first excursion in Lenox was one of salutation to our notable trees. We 
 had a nervous anxiety to see that the axe had not hewn, nor the lightning 
 struck them; that no worm had gnawed at the root, or cattle at the trunk; 
 that their branches were not broken, nor their leaves failing from drought. We 
 found them all standing in their uprightness. They lifted up their heads 
 towards heaven, and sent down to us from all their boughs a leafy whisper of 
 recognition and affection. Blessed be the dew that cools their evening leaves, 
 and the rains that quench their daily thirst ! May the storm be as merciful to 
 them when in winter it roars through their branches, as is a harper to his harp ! 
 Let the snow lie lightly on their boughs, and long hence be the summer that 
 shall find no leaves to clothe these nobles of the pasture ! 
 
 First in our regard, as it is in the whole nobility of trees, stands the white 
 elm, no less esteemed because it is an American tree, known abroad only by 
 importation, and never seen in all its magnificence, except in our own valleys. 
 The old oaks of England are very excellent in their way, gnarled and rugged. 
 The elm has strength as significant as they, and a grace, a royalty, that leaves 
 the oak like a boor in comparison. Had the elm been an English tree, and 
 had Chaucer seen and loved and sung it; had Shakespeare and every English 
 poet hung some garlands upon it, it would have lifted up its head now, not only 
 the noblest of all growing things, but enshrined in a thousand rich associations 
 of history and literature. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. n 2 C 
 
 Who ever sees a hawthorn or a sweet brier (the eglantine), that his thoughts 
 do not, like a bolt of light, burst through ranks of poets, and ranges of spark- 
 ling conceits which have been born since England had a written language, and 
 of which the rose, the willow, the eglantine, the hawthorn, and other scores of 
 vines or trees, have been the cause, as they are now and forevermore the sug- 
 gestors and remembrancers ? Who ever looks upon an oak, and does not think 
 of navies, of storms, of battles on the ocean, of the noble lyrics of the sea, of 
 English glades, of the fugitive Charles, the tree-mounted monarch, of the 
 Heme oak, of parks and forests, of Robin Hood and his merry men, Friar 
 Tuck not excepted ; of old baronial halls with mellow light streaming through 
 diamond-shaped panes upon oaken floors, and of carved oaken wainscotings. 
 And who that has ever traveled in English second-class cushionless cars has 
 not other and less genial remembrances of the enduring solidity of the imper- 
 vious unelastic oak ? 
 
 One stalwart oak I have, and only one, yet discovered. On my west line is a 
 fringe of forest, through which rushes, in spring, trickles in early summer, and 
 dies out entirely in August, the issues of a noble spring from the near hill-side. 
 On the eastern edge of this belt of trees stands the monarchical oak, wide- 
 branching on the east toward the open pasture and the free light, but on its 
 western side lean and branchless from the pressure of neighboring trees ; for 
 trees, like men, cannot grow to the real nature that is in them when crowded 
 by too much society. Both need to be touched on every side by sun and air, 
 and by nothing else, if they are to be rounded out into full symmetry. Grow- 
 ing right up by its side, and through its branches is a long wifely elm — beauty 
 and grace imbosomed by strength. Their leaves come and go together, and 
 all the summer long they mingle their rustling harmonies. Their roots pasture 
 in the same soil, nor could either of them be hewn down without tearing away 
 the branches and marring the beauty of the other. And a tree, when thor- 
 oughly disbranched, may, by time and care, regain its health again, but never 
 its beauty. 
 
 Under this oak I love to sit and hear all the things which its leaves have to 
 tell. No printed leaves have more treasures of history or of literature to those 
 who know how to listen. But, if clouds kindlv shield us from the sun, we love 
 as well to crouch down on the grass some thirty yards off, and amidst the fra- 
 grant smell of crushed herbs, to watch the fancies of the trees and clouds. 
 The roguish winds will never be done teasing the leaves, that run away and 
 come back, with nimble playfulness. Now and then a stronger puff dashes up 
 the leaves, showing the downy under surfaces that flash white all along the up- 
 blown and tremulous forest edge. Now the wind draws back his breath, and 
 all the woods are still. Then some single leaf is tickled, and quivers all alone. 
 I am sure there is no wind. The other leaves about it are still. Where it gets 
 its motion I cannot tell, but there it goes fanning itself and restless among its 
 sober fellows. By and by one or two others catch the impulse. The rest hold 
 out a moment, but soon catching the contagious merriment, away goes the 
 whole tree and all its neighbors, the leaves running in ripples all down the 
 forest side. I expect almost to hear them laugh out loud. A stroke of wind 
 upon the forest, indolently swelling and subsiding, is like a stroke upon a hive 
 
326 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 of bees, for sound ; and like stirring a fire full of sparks for upspringing 
 thoughts and ideal suggestions. The melodious whirl draws out a flittering 
 swarm of sweet images that play before the eye like those evening troops of 
 gauzy insects that hang in the air between you and the sun, and pipe their own 
 music, and flit in airy rounds of mingled dance as if the whole errand of their 
 lives was to swing in mazes of sweet music. 
 
 Different species of trees move their leaves very differently, so that one may 
 sometimes tell by the motion of shadows on the ground, if he be too indolent 
 to look up, under what kind of tree he is dozing. On the tulip-tree (which has 
 the finest name that ever tree had, making the very pronouncing of its name 
 almost like the utterance of a strain of music — liriodendron tulipiferd) — on 
 the tulip-tree, the aspen, and on all native poplars, the leaves are apparently 
 Anglo-Saxon or Germanic, having an intense individualism. Each one moves 
 to suit itself. Under the same wind one is trilling up and down, another is 
 whirling, another slowly vibrating right and left, and others still, quieting them- 
 selves to sleep, as a mother gently pats her slumbering child; and each one 
 intent upon a motion of its own. Sometimes other trees have single frisky 
 leaves, but, usually, the oaks, maples, beeches, have community of motion. 
 They are all acting together, or all are alike still. 
 
 What is sweeter than a murmur of leaves, unless it be the musical gurgling 
 of water that runs secretly and cuts under the roots of these trees, and makes 
 little bubbling pools that laugh to see the drops stumble over the root and 
 plump down into its bosom ! In such nooks could trout lie. Unless ye would 
 become mermaids, keep far from such places, all innocent grasshoppers, and 
 all ebony crickets ! Do not believa in appearances. You peer over and know 
 that there is no danger. You can see the radiant gravel. You know that no 
 enemy lurks in that fairy pool. You can see every nook and corner of it, and 
 it is as sweet a bathing pool as ever was swam by long-legged grasshoppers. 
 Over the root comes a butterfly with both sails a little drabbled, and quicker 
 than light he is plucked down, leaving three or four bubbles behind him, fit 
 emblems of a butterfly's life. There ! did I not tell you ? Now go away all 
 maiden crickets and grasshoppers ! These fair surfaces, so pure, so crystalline, 
 so surely safe, have a trout somewhere in them lying in wait for you ! 
 
 But what if one sits between both kinds of music, leaves above and water 
 below? What if birds are among the leaves, sending out random calls, far- 
 piercing and sweet, as if they were lovers saying, " My dear, are you there?" 
 If you are half reclining upon a cushion of fresh new moss, that swells up be- 
 tween the many-plied and twisted roots of a huge beech tree, and if you have 
 been there a half an hour without moving, and if you will still keep motionless- 
 you may see what they who only walk through forests never see. * * * 
 
 Thus do you stand, noble elms ! Lifted up so high are 5 ? our topmost boughs, 
 that no indolent birds care to seek you ; and only those of nimble wings, and 
 they wlch unwonted beat, that love exertion, and aspire to sing where none 
 sing higher. Aspiration ! so Heaven gives it pure as flames to the noble bosom- 
 But debased with passion and selfishness it comes to be only Ambition ! 
 
 It was in the presence of this pasture-elm, which we name the Queen, that 
 we first felt to our very marrow, that we had indeed become owners of the 
 
A RBOR DA Y MANUAL. ? 2 j 
 
 soil ! It was with a feeling of awe that we looked up into its face, and when I 
 whispered to myself, "This is mine," there was a shrinking as if there were 
 sacrilege in the very thought of property in such a creature of God as this 
 cathedral-topped tree! Does a man bare his head in some old church? So 
 did I, standing in the shadow of this regal tree, and looking up into that com- 
 pleted glory, at which three hundred years have been at work with noiseless 
 fingers ! What was I in its presence but a grasshopper? My heart said "I may 
 not call thee property, and that property mine ! Thou belongest to the air. 
 Thou art the child of summer. Thou art the mighty temple where birds praise 
 God. Thou belongest to no man's hand, but to all men's eyes that do love 
 beauty, and that have learned through beauty to behold God ! Stand, then, in 
 thine own beauty and grandeur ! I shall be a lover and a protector, to keep 
 drought from thy roots, and the axe from thy trunk." 
 
 For, remorseless men there are crawling yet upon the face of the earth, 
 smitten blind and inwardly dead, whose only thought of a tree of ages is, that 
 it is food for the axe and the saw! These are the wretches cf whom the 
 Scripture speaks : " A man was famous according as he had lifted up axes upon 
 the thick trees." 
 
 Thus famous, or rather infamous was the last owner but one, before me, of 
 this farm. Upon the crown of the hill, just where an artist would have planted 
 them, had he wished to have them exactly in the right place, grew some two 
 hundred stalwart and ancient maples, beeches, ashes, and oaks, a narrow belt- 
 like forest, forming a screen from the northern and western winds in winter, 
 and a harp of endless music for the summer. The wretched owner of this 
 farm tempted of the Devil, cut down the whole blessed band and brotherhood 
 of trees, that he might fill his pocket with two pitiful dollars a cord for the 
 wood ! Well, his pocket was the best part of him. The iron furnaces have 
 devoured my grove, and their huge stumps that stood like gravestones, have 
 been cleared away, that a grove may be planted in the same spot, for the next 
 hundred years to nourish into the stature and glory of that which is gone. 
 
 In other places I find the memorials of many noble trees slain ; here, a hem- 
 lock that carried up its eternal green a hundred feet into the winter air; there, 
 a huge double-trunked chestnut, dear old grandfather of hundreds of children 
 that have for generations clubbed its boughs, or shook its nut-laden top, and 
 laughed and shouted as bushels of chestnuts rattled down. Now, the tree 
 exists only in the form of looped-holed posts and weather-browned rails. I do 
 hope the fellow got a sliver in his fingers every time he touched the hemlock 
 plank, or let down the bars made of those chestnut rails ! 
 
 To most people a grove is a grove, and all groves are alike. But no two 
 groves are alike. There is as marked a difference between different forests as 
 between different communities. A grove of pines without underbrush, car- 
 peted with the fine-fingered russet leaves of the pine, and odorous of resinous 
 gums, has scarcely a trace of likeness to a maple woods, either in the insects, 
 the birds, the shrubs, the light and shade, or the sound of its leaves. If we 
 lived in olden times among yonng mythologies, we should say that pines held 
 the imprisoned spirit of naiads and water-nymphs, and that their sounds were 
 of the water for whose lucid depths they always sighed. At any rate, the first 
 
328 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 pines must have grown on the sea-shore, and learned their first accents from 
 the surf and the waves; and all their posterity have inherited the sound, and 
 borne it inland to the mountains. 
 
 I like best a forest of mingled trees, ash, maple, oak, beech, hickory, and 
 evergreens, with birches growing along the edges of the brook that carries itself 
 through the roots and stones, toward the willows that grow in yonder meadow. 
 It should be deep and sombre in some directions, running off into shadowy re- 
 cesses and coverts beyond all footsteps. In such a wood there is endless variety. 
 It will breathe as many voices to your fancy as might be brought from any 
 organ beneath the pressure of some Handel's hands. By the way, Handel and 
 Beethoven always remind me of forests. So do some poets, whose numbers 
 are various as the infinity of vegetation, fine as the choicest cut leaves, strong 
 and rugged in places as the unbarked trunk and gnarled roots at the ground's 
 surface. Is there any other place, except the sea side, where hours are so 
 short and moments so swift as in a forest ? Where else, except in the rare 
 communion of those friends much loved, do we awake from pleasure, whose 
 calm flow is without a ripple, into surprise that whole hours are gone which we 
 thought but just begun — blossomed and dropped, which we thought but just 
 budding ! 
 
 Henry Ward Beecher. 
 
 SPRING-TIME. 
 
 ' r I MS spring-time, bright spring-time ! all nature is gay; 
 1 For winds cold and piercing have all passed away ; 
 And now the bright sunshine gives warmth to the air, 
 And changes delightful are seen everywhere. 
 
 The farmer with keen plow is tilling the ground, 
 Then seeds with his hand he will scatter around ; 
 The little birds build their warm nests in the trees, 
 And twitter and chirp as they fly in the breeze. 
 
 The buds on the hedge-rows all open out so, 
 And gay-colored blossoms begin now to grow ; 
 The daisies, and cowslips, and primroses sweet, 
 We make into bouquets, so pretty and neat. 
 
 The call of the bluebird so joyous doth rise, 
 
 As cheerful and happy now onward he flies ; 
 
 The lambkins are skipping and running with glee, — 
 
 A pleasing example to you and to me ! 
 
 " Yon sturdy oak whose branches wide 
 Boldly the storms and wind defy, 
 Not long ago, an acorn small, 
 Lay dormant 'neath a summer sky." 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 329 
 
 HOW ARBOR DAY IS OBSERVED IN VARIOUS STATES. 
 
 THE information centained in the following pages was largely obtained from 
 responses to a recent request made to State Superintendents, and from 
 their annual reports : 
 
 ALABAMA. — February 22 is Arbor Day in this State. It is net established 
 by law, but has been observed since 1886. The Superintendent of Public In- 
 struction issued a stirring circular, January 18, 1887, recommending that every 
 school plant at least one memorial tree ■ — to be named and cared for by the 
 school. The Superintendent writes that several thousand trees have been 
 planted, but that the day " is not as generally observed as it should be." 
 
 ARKANSAS. — No response from State Superintendent ; no data found in 
 annual reports. 
 
 CALIFORNIA. — The day is not yet observed. Superintendent of Public 
 Instruction, Ira G. Hoitt, writes, Nov. 27, 1889 : " I recommended that an Arbor 
 Day be legally established by the last Legislature, but we had so much other 
 legislation to accomplish on educational subjects, that we had no time to press 
 the matter. It will yet be done." 
 
 COLORADO. — Arbor Day has been observed pursuant to a special procla- 
 mation of the Governor for the past six years, and about 300,000 trees have 
 been planted. In 1889, a law was passed designating the third Friday in April 
 in each year. The day is a holiday in the public schools of the State. The Gov- 
 ernor is to issue a proclamation, and the State Superintendent and county su- 
 perintendents are instructed to promote by all proper means the observance of 
 the day, and reports are to be made to the State Forest Commissioner. 
 
 CONNECTICUT.— The law of 1886 provides that the Governor shall annually, 
 in the spring, designate, by proclamation, an Arbor Day, to be observed in the 
 schools, and for economic tree-planting. Usually a day late in April or early in 
 May is designated. In 1887 and 1888, the Secretary of the State Board of Edu- 
 cation issued elaborate suggestions, with selections for program. Since that 
 date it has been left to the Secretary of the Board of Agriculture. 
 
 DELAWARE. — No response from State Superintendent; no data found in 
 annual reports. 
 
 FLORIDA. — Arbor Day is fixed by proclamation of the Governor, usually 
 in February (in 1889011 Feb. 14), and the Superintendent of Public Instruction 
 issues a circular to county superintendents, who in turn communicate with the 
 teachers. The Superintendent writes that thousands of children, as well as 
 great numbers of patrons and people participate in the exercises. (See program 
 for 1890, under Specimen Programs.) 
 
 ILLINOIS. — The law of 1887 provides that the Governor shall annually, in 
 the spring, designate by proclamation a day to be known as "Arbor Day." 
 The State Superintendent also issues a circular and suggests a program. (See 
 
^ ^ Q ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 " Specimen Programs.") Ten thousand school districts observed the day in 
 1889. Following is an extract from Governor Fifer's proclamation of 1889: 
 "Let the children in our schools, the young men and women in our colleges, 
 seminaries and universities, with their instructors, co-operate in the proper 
 observance of the day by planting shrubs, vines and trees that will beautify the 
 home, adorn the public grounds, add wealth to the State, and thereby increase 
 the comfort and happiness of our people." 
 
 INDIANA. — This State has two Arbor Days — one in April and one in No- 
 vember of each year, established in 1884. The State Superintendent issues a 
 circular recommending its observance. The practice is growing in favor, and 
 local pride is increasing. The latest biennial report gives some interesting 
 selections for general use. 
 
 IOWA. — Arbor Day was established in 1882. The law provides that the 
 board of directors in each district, township and independent district, should set 
 out twelve or more shade trees on each school-house site. Timely suggestions 
 by the State Superintendent are issued in circulars fixing a day late in April or 
 early in May. The "Loyal Leaflet," issued in 18S9, by Superintendent Sabin 
 was a choice contribution to Arbor Day literature, combining patriotism and 
 tree-planting very happily. 
 
 KANSAS. — The date is fixed by proclamation by the Governor. No further 
 information received from State Superintendent or annual reports. 
 
 KENTUCKY.— From a letter dated Dec. 30, 1889, from Superintendent Jos. 
 Desha Pickett, the following extract is made : 
 
 1. Arbor Day was instituted in this State by joint resolution of the General 
 Assembly, March 31, 1886. 
 
 2. Attention was duly called to the day by Governor Knott and then by 
 Governor Buckner. 
 
 3. The Superintendent of Public Instruction has suggested that the act of the 
 General Assembly of March 31, 1886, be so amended as to direct its observance 
 by the school children of the Commonwealth, but not as a legal holiday. 
 
 4. Many of our leading citizens are deeply interested in the cause of forestry, 
 knowing its imperative importance. 
 
 LOUISIANA. — No response from State Superintendent; no data found in 
 annual reports. 
 
 MAINE. — No response from State Superintendent; no data from annual re- 
 ports. 
 
 MARYLAND. — The day was established by law in 1884. The Governor is 
 authorized and directed to issue a proclamation annually, designating a day in 
 April. The law especially directs the planting of forest shade trees along public 
 roads and around school-houses. The Superintendent of Public Instruction 
 issues a circular in addition to the proclamation of the Governor. About five 
 thousand trees are planted annually. Although the joint resolution was passed 
 in 1S84 no proclamation was issued until 1888. The observance was very gen- 
 eral and enthusiastic. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 MASSACHUSETTS.— The last Saturday in April is fixed by law as "Arbor 
 Day," and was established in 1886. The Governor issues a proclamation, and 
 programs are prescribed by local superintendents. The day is observed espec- 
 ially by the school children, but is also observed by the people general!)-, in 
 accordance with the proclamation. There are no data as to the number of trees 
 planted. 
 
 MICHIGAN. — The following concurrent resolution was approved March 
 
 26, 1885: 
 
 Resolved, That the Governor is hereby requested to call the attention of the 
 people of this State to the importance of planting trees for ornament and shade, 
 by naming a day on which this work shall be given special attention, to be 
 known as " Arbor Day." 
 
 Superintendent Joseph Estabrook writes November 25, 1889: "There is no 
 
 uniformity in the manner of observing the da} - . Last spring a large number 
 
 of the graded schools observed it with appropriate exercises. No record is made 
 
 of the number of trees planted." 
 
 MINNESOTA. — The day has been observed since 1885, but is not established 
 by law. The Governor issues a proclamation fixing the day (usually in April — 
 in 1889, April 26), and the Superintendent of Public Instruction supplements 
 the proclamation with a circular. There were 6,394 trees planted in 188S, and 
 39,395 in 1889. 
 
 From Governor Merriam's proclamation of 1889, the following extract is 
 
 made : 
 
 "The day possesses the rare feature of being one of pleasure to those who 
 participate in the work to which it is dedicated, and of being in far greater 
 degree, fruitful in blessings to the children, the children's children, and the 
 generations to follow." 
 
 MISSISSIPPI.— (Not observed.) 
 
 MISSOURI — Arbor Day established by law in 1886 — the first Friday after 
 first Tuesday in April. The Superintendent of Public Schools issues a circular 
 annually, calling attention to the law and suggesting the character of exercises. 
 About 27,000 trees have been planted. 
 
 NEBRASKA. — To this State belongs the distinction of inaugurating the 
 observance of Arbor Day, and she has also been the most industrious in this 
 direction, adding to sentiment, something practical. Ex-Governor J. Sterling 
 Morton was an earnest advocate of the plan, and millions of growing trees are 
 the silent outgrowth of his enthusiasm. The statutes of Nebraska designate 
 April 22, as Arbor Day ; the Governor usually issuing a proclamation, followed 
 by a circular from the State Superintendent, who occasionally submits a pro- 
 gram. Prizes are given for planting the largest number of trees. The school 
 authorities try to have trees in every school-yard. The day is made a school 
 holiday to all schools observing the day. Nearly 400,000,000 trees have been 
 planted in this State under this law and practice. 
 
 NEVADA. — Arbor Day was established by law, February 10, 1887, and pro- 
 vides that the Governor shall fix a day by proclamation. A day in April was 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 designated in each of the years 1887 and 1888. In a letter dated December 5, 
 1889, Superintendent Dovey says: "Owing to the great scarcity of water, 
 and the unusual drought, which has prevailed during the last two years, the 
 observance of the day has been little more than a formality, but some good has 
 resulted, and better things are hoped for." 
 
 NEW HAMPSHIRE. — No response from State Superintendent ; no data 
 from annual reports. 
 
 NEW JERSEY. — Arbor Day was established in 1884, and the day is fixed 
 by the Governor, usually about the middle of April. The State Superin- 
 tendent is directed to issue the necessary circulars of information. Programs 
 are prepared by county and city superintendents. The latest report shows 
 great interest in the day, in the schools, throughout the State. The report of 
 County Superintendent John Terhune of Bergen county is especially full and 
 interesting. 
 
 NEW YORK.— By chapter 196 of the Laws of 1888, the Friday following 
 the first day of May was designated as Arbor Day in this State. The law was 
 passed too late to provide for an observance under its provisions in 1888, but 
 on May 3, 1889, there was a very general observance, The law provides that 
 the Superintendent of Public Instruction shall prescribe and publish a course 
 of exercises to be observed in all the schools. The program of 1889 contained 
 many original poems and songs. (See New York Program, under " Specimen 
 Programs. '') Fifty thousand programs and fifty thousand song supplements 
 were printed and circulated through commissioners and superintendents. 
 Outside the cities 5,681 school districts reported as having observed the day, 
 and 24,166 trees were planted, besides vines, shrubs and flowers. Everybody 
 participating in the exercises was invited to vote for a " State Tree." The 
 returns received showed that the "Sugar Maple " received forty-three per cent 
 of all votes cast — the oak being second, and the elm third. The birch, for 
 some reason, was not a favorite. The program for 1890 will include a request 
 for a similar vote for a " State Flower." 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA. — (Not observed.) 
 
 OHIO No response from State Commissioner. No data from annual 
 
 reports. The day seems, however, to have been established by law, as shown 
 by the Governor's proclamation in 1889, designating April 26 as Arbor Day. 
 The State Commissioner also issued a circular in 1889 urging a general observ- 
 ance of the day, heretofore confined largely to the cities and towns. The 
 reports of the Superintendent of the Cincinnati schools shows an active inter- 
 est in Arbor Day in that city. The day was first observed in 1882 under the 
 direction of Superintendent John B. Peaslee, who aroused much enthusiasm, 
 and who contributed through the United States Commissioner of Education 
 the first published pamphlet of Arbor Day literature. The Cincinnati reports 
 contain much interesting matter relating to the subjeet. 
 
 OREGON. — Arbor Day established by law February 25, 1889. Section 69 
 of title 7 of the School Laws of Oregon is as follows : "The second Friday in 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. , + 3 
 
 the afternoon in April of each year shall hereafter be known throughout this 
 State as Arbor Day." The Superintendent of Public Instruction will issue his 
 first Arbor Day circular in April, 1890. 
 
 PENNSYLVANIA.— This substantial State is doubly blessed. Two Arbor 
 Days were established by law in 1885, one day in April to be named by proclama- 
 tion of the Governor, and one in October to be named by the Superintendent of 
 Public Instruction. The day is generally observed and several hundred thou- 
 sand trees have been planted. The late Superintendent Higbeewas an earnest 
 and enthusiastic friend of Arbor Day. His annual circulars and addresses 
 given fully in the Penns)dvania School Journal show his deep interest in the 
 work, and his success is due to the faithful service he rendered. Were it pos- 
 sible, it would be interesting to give here extracts from Dr. Higbee's stirring 
 circulars, and interesting addresses, but they form a volume in themselves. In 
 his good work in this direction, which will long be associated with his memory, 
 he was assisted by Prof. J. P. McCaskey, editor of the Pennsylvania School 
 Journal, who has given the subject more prominence in his journal than any 
 other publication in the country. 
 
 RHODE ISLAND. — Arbor Day is observed to some extent. It was estab- 
 lished in 1887, but no particular day is fixed. Section 1 of chapter 641 of the 
 Laws of 1887 says: " Such day as the Governor of the State ma}- appoint as 
 'Arbor Day,' shall be a holiday," etc. 
 
 Superintendent Thos. B. Stockwell writes, Nov. 22, 1889: " Under the direc- 
 tion of the local school boards, more or less notice is taken of the day by the 
 schools. Aside from them little attention is paid to it. Our State is so small 
 and yet so varied in its makeup of town and country, that it is impossible to 
 secure very much concerted action. There is a growing feeling among our 
 school authorities in favor of utilizing the day to improve the surroundings of 
 the school-houses, and I think, it will ultimately do a good work." 
 
 SOUTH CAROLINA.-(Not observed.) 
 
 TENNESSEE.— Arbor Day was established by law in 1887, making it the 
 duty of the county superintendents of schools to set apart some day in No- 
 vember, to be observed in all the public schools. Trees to be planted around 
 school buildings, with appropriate ceremonies, " that the day may be one of 
 pleasure as well as of instruction for the young." The State Superintendent 
 issues a circular, but details are left to county officers. 
 
 TEXAS. — By an act approved February 22, 1889, Washington's birthday was 
 set apart as "Arbor Day." 
 
 VERMONT.— Although Arbor Day has not been established by law, it has 
 been observed in the large towns since 1885. Proclamation is made by the 
 Governor, designating and recommending a day to be observed. From the 
 first proclamation, issued by Governor Pingree in 1885, the following is taken: 
 "The love of Vermonters for trees and groves should show itself along every 
 thoroughfare and wayside ; upon the village green .and city park ; around the 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 school-house and by the academy ; the grounds of the home should be taste- 
 fully adorned with the maple, the oak and the elm, and thereby made scenes of 
 lovelier memories." 
 
 VIRGINIA. — Superintendent John L. Buchanan says, under date of Nov. 
 27, 1889: "The day is not observed in this State. I am decidedly in favor of 
 establishing 'Arbor Day ' by law, and I propose to recommend such a measure 
 in my forthcoming annual report. Everybody ought to be a friend both to the 
 present and future generations of trees." 
 
 WEST VIRGINIA.— Under date of November 23, 1889, Superintendent 
 B. S. Morgan says: " It has been the custom since 1883, for the State Superin- 
 tendent to appoint a day to be observed by the public schools as Arbor Day, 
 but since there is nothing compulsory in its observance, it has not been gen- 
 erally observed. Good has been accomplished, however, and many trees are 
 planted each year. The first Friday in November is the da}- usually selected. 
 Our purpose is to secure the establishment of an Arbor Day by law as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 WISCONSIN.— In 1889, .the Legislature passed an act authorizing the 
 Governor to designate an Arbor Day. Superintendent J. B. Thayer writes, 
 November 23, 1889: "Arbor Day occurs on April 30. The law was published 
 at so late a date this year, that there was no time for the preparation of a suit- 
 able program. For a State which is as prodigal of its forest trees as Wisconsin, 
 considerable has been done, even before the enactment of the law, in the way 
 of planting trees for the adornment of school grounds." 
 
 What conqueror in any part of ''life's broad field of battle" could desire a 
 more beautiful, a more noble, or a more patriotic monument than a tree planted 
 by the hands of pure and joyous children, as a memorial of his achievements ? 
 
 What earnest, honest worker with hand and brain, for the benefit of his fel- 
 low-men, could desire a more pleasing recognition of his usefulness than such a 
 monument, a symbol of his or her productions, ever growing, ever blooming, 
 and ever bearing wholesome fruit? 
 
 How significant and suggestive is the dedication of a young tree as a monu- 
 ment. 
 
 Lossing. 
 
 Who does his duty, is a question 
 
 Too complex to be solved by me ; 
 
 But he, I venture the suggestion, 
 
 Does part of his that plants a tree 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. « -, r 
 
 HOW AN APPLE TREE GROWS. 
 
 WHEN a young seed begins to grow it starts with one little cell. This cell 
 is a kind of round bag, or tiny bladder. It is hollow, and has in it a 
 sort of jelly. 
 
 Those who study plants can with their microscopes watch just how the 
 young seed grows. When first they observe the tiny sack, or cell, it is not 
 larger than the point of a pin. They can see it grow larger, but even when it 
 is full grown it is no larger than the dot over this letter /. 
 
 Next, they can see a very thin wall — thinner than the thinnest paper — grow- 
 ing inside of the little cell. This wall, or partition, grows quite across from 
 one side to the other, making two little cells of it. 
 
 After this, a partition grows in each of these two cells, making four. And 
 so the seed goes on growing, by each of the cells dividing into two or more. 
 
 All plants grow in this way. But each plant will grow according to its own 
 seed. The seed of a turnip will begin to grow with one cell, and then make 
 cell after cell, with all the cells packed pretty close together. But all these 
 cells will grow together in such a way as to make a turnip-plant. An acorn 
 will grow in the same way ; but all its cells will grow together in such a way as 
 to make an oak tree. 
 
 Think of a large apple tree. First it began with a tiny cell in the bottom of 
 a pistil of an apple blossom. Out of this cell grew two other cells. Then out 
 of them grew more cells. And so they kept on until the whole seed was ripe. 
 
 Now here is something very curious. All those little cells in that little apple 
 seed grew in such a way that they actually made a little apple tree inside of 
 that little seed. There they made a minute pair of leaves, and a minute point 
 of a root. When the tiny cells had their tiny plant completed the seed was ripe. 
 
 The apple fell from the tree, the seed entered the ground, and in the spring 
 the wet in the soil below, and the heat from the sun above, burst open the seed. 
 Then out came the little point of a root, and, not liking the light, grew down- 
 wards into the ground. 
 
 But while the little point of a root was doing this, the little pair of leaves, 
 folded up in the seed, also began to grow, and, loving the light, pushed their 
 way up where they could feel the warm sunshine. 
 
 There the little pair of leaves spread out. Then up between them grew the 
 little stem. Then more leaves came out ; and still the stem kept pushing up, 
 and still more leaves kept coming. 
 
 Moreover, while the plant was growing above ground, the little root under 
 ground was branching and growing larger, and with all its fine young hollow 
 hairs was sucking up the water from the soil, to go up to the leaves, which 
 took in the air that some of it might mix with the sap to make the very stuff 
 that forms the little cells. 
 
 The roots and leaves work together to build up the plant. The roots take 
 water from the ground ; but that alone would not make cells. The cells must 
 have carbon ; and this the plant obtains mostly from the air, by breathing it 
 through the leaves. 
 
33$ 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 So, whatever the plant may be — a great forest-tree or a spear of grass — its 
 cells are made of carbon and water. The whole tree is made of these cells, — 
 trunk, roots, branches, leaves, flowers, fruit. 
 
 Look at a great oak tree. Can it be that that immense plant is made of 
 nothing but a mass of tiny cells not larger than the dot of an i — and not so 
 large ? It can be. It is so. 
 
 PUSSY WILLOW. 
 
 THE brook is brimmed with melting snow, 
 The maple sap is running, 
 And on the highest elm a crow 
 
 His black wings is sunning. 
 A close green bud the Mayflower lies 
 
 Upon its mossy pillow ; 
 And sweet and low the south-wind blows, 
 And through the brown fields calling goes, 
 
 " Come Pussy ! Pussy Willow ! " 
 Within your close brown wrapper stir; 
 Come out and show your silver fur ; 
 
 " Come Pussy ! Pussy Willow ! " 
 
 Soon red will bud the maple-trees, 
 
 The bluebirds will be singing, 
 And yellow tassels in the breeze 
 
 Be from the poplars swinging; 
 And rosy will the Mayflower lie 
 
 Upon its mossy pillow ; 
 But you must come the first of all, — 
 'Come, Pussy!" is the south-wind's call, — 
 
 " Come Pussy ! Pussy Willow ! " 
 A fairy gift to children dear, 
 The downy firstling of the year, — 
 
 Come Pussy ! Pussy Willow ! 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 337 
 
 gpedmen Programs. 
 
 SPECIMEN PROGRAM. 
 
 Selections marked thus * are given in this volume. See Index. 
 
 Song — *" Forest Song." ----- W. H. Venable. 
 
 Reading of the Governor's Proclamation by the clerk of the district. 
 
 Recitation — " God Everywhere in Nature." - - Carlos Wilcox. 
 
 Recitation — *" A Forest Hymn." - Bryant. 
 
 Essay — " Forest Trees in Illinois." - 
 
 Recitation — *" The Daisy." - Montgomery. 
 
 Recitation — *" The Use of Flowers." - - Mary Howitt. 
 
 Essay — "Flowers, the Friends of Trees." 
 
 Recitation — "Flowers." ... - Thomas Hood. 
 
 Recitation — " The Violet." ----- W.W.Story. 
 
 Song — " To the Woodland, Away ! " - 
 
 Recitation — * " The Voice of the Grass." - - Sarah Roberts. 
 
 Essay — " Our Grasses." - 
 
 Essay — " Climbing Vines and Plants." - - - 
 
 Recitation — *" The Ivy Green." ... Dickens. 
 
 Song — *" Woodman, Spare that Tree." ... 
 
 Essay — " The Beauty of Trees." - 
 
 Recitation — *" The Primeval Forest." - - - Longfellow's Evangeline. 
 
 Essay — "Historic Willows." (Suggestions: "Arnold's Willow," opposite West 
 Point ; " Gates' Willow," New York City ; "Alex. Pope's Willow," Twickenham.) 
 
 Essay — "Historic Oaks." (Suggestions: "The Big Tree" at Geneseo, N. Y.; 
 " The Charter Oak," at Hartford, Connecticut.) 
 
 Song — "Come to the Greenwood." 
 
 Recitation — *" The Tree." - - . Jones Very. 
 
 Essay — " Liberty Elms." (Suggestions: " Old Liberty Elm," Boston; "Washing- 
 ton Elm," Cambridge ; " Penn's Elm," Philadelphia.) 
 
 Essay — " My Favorite Tree is the Elm." Discussion upon this essay by four others, 
 presenting their favorites in the Oak, Sycamore, Beech, and Poplar. 
 
 Address — " The School-house a Home, and Our Duty to Beautify It." By the teacher 
 or one of the parents. 
 
 Song — " America." 
 
 From Western School yournal. 
 22 
 
33& 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 SPECIMEN PROGRAM 
 
 School No. 5, Elmira, N. Y., i88< 
 Music — "Arbor Day." .... - 
 
 Declamation — " Tree Planting Day." - 
 
 Planting Tree. ...... 
 
 Dedicating Tree to George Washington. - 
 Recitation — " Tribute to Washington." - 
 Declamation — " The Wistaria." ... 
 
 Planting Wistaria Vine. .... 
 
 Music — " Auld Lang Syne." .... 
 
 Essay — " Vine Planting." 
 
 Planting Woodbine. ..... 
 
 Music — "Columbia." - 
 
 Declamation — " Arbor Day." 
 Planting Ivy. ..... 
 
 Music — " Marching Song." 
 
 Concert Recitation and Planting Vine. 
 
 Music — " Planting Vine." .... 
 
 Recitation and Planting English Ivy. 
 
 Planting Vine. ..... 
 
 Planting Vine. ..... 
 
 Planting Vine. ..... 
 
 Recitation by Class in Costume. 
 
 Planting Vine. ..... 
 
 Music — "America." - - . - 
 
 School. 
 Eighth Grade. 
 
 Seventh Grade. 
 
 Seventh and Eighth Grades. 
 
 Sixth Grade. 
 Sixth Grade. 
 
 Fifth Grade. 
 School. 
 Room No. 6 
 Room No. 5 
 Room No. 4 
 Room No. 3 
 Room No. 2 
 Room No. 1 
 Fourth Grade 
 Fourth Grade 
 School. 
 
 SPECIMEN PROGRAM. 
 
 Arsenal Street School, Watertown, N. Y., 1889. 
 Selections marked thus * given in this volume. See Index. 
 
 Reading the Scriptures. ....... 
 
 Music — " Celebrate the Arbor Day." .... 
 
 Class Recitation — "What the Flowers Said." - 
 
 Recitation — *" Planting the Apple Tree." - 
 
 Music — *" Swinging 'Neath the Old Apple Tree." - 
 
 Class Recitation — * " Voice of the Grass." ... 
 
 Declamation — *" Woodman, Spare that Tree." 
 
 Concert Reading — *" The Forest Hymn." - 
 
 Music— " Mill May." ....... 
 
 Recitation — " Joyous Arbor Day." .... 
 
 Declamation — *" How the Leaves Come Down." 
 
 Music — " Song for the Oak." ..... 
 
 Recitation — *" Bring Flowers." - - - 
 
 Recitation — *" The Ivy Green." 
 
 Recitation — " Tale of Two Trees." - 
 
 Declamation — *" The Flower of Liberty." 
 
 Class Reading — "Flowers." ------ 
 
 Solo — *" The Old Mountain Tree." 
 
 - School. 
 
 - School. 
 School. 
 
 School. 
 
 School. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 339 
 
 SPECIMEN PROGRAM. 
 
 Mohawk Academy, 1889. 
 Selections marked thus * given in this volume. See Index. 
 
 Music — "America." ..... The School. 
 
 Reading of Scripture. • 
 
 Prayer. ....... 
 
 Reading of Law establishing Arbor Da}'. 
 
 Reading of Circular Issued by Department of Public Instruction. 
 
 Music — " Summer Song." - - 
 
 Recitation — *" The Secret." - 
 
 Recitation — " Address to the Robin." 
 
 Recitation — * " Kind Words." 
 
 Music — " Maiden's Song." 
 
 Recitation — *" Waiting for the May." 
 
 Recitation — "The Song of the Sparrow." 
 
 Recitation — " 'Tis Spring-Time." 
 
 Music — " Hunting Four-Leaved Clover." 
 
 Recitation — *" April." - 
 
 Recitation — " May Flowers." 
 
 Recitation — *" The Oak." .... 
 
 Music — " Marseillaise Hymn." - 
 
 Dialogue — "Flowers." .... 
 
 Music — " The Watch on the Rhine." 
 
 Declamation — " The Origin and History of Arbor Day." 
 
 Recitation — " Trees, the Homes of Birds" 
 
 Essay — " Modifying Influences of Trees." 
 
 Essay — "Trees, an Encouragement to Rain Fall." 
 
 Essay — " Protection afforded by Trees." 
 
 Music — *" Arbor Day Tribute." 
 
 Address. ...... 
 
 Music — *" The Brave Old Oak." - 
 Voting for State Tree. 
 Appointment of Committee on Tree. 
 Naming and Planting the Tree. 
 Music — " The Tree Song." 
 
 Primary Department. 
 
 Intermediate Department. 
 
 Intermediate Department. 
 
 The School. 
 Eight Girls. 
 The School. 
 
 The School. 
 Solo. 
 
 The School. 
 
 " Loud through the air resounds the woodman's stroke, 
 When, lo ! a voice breaks from the groaning oak, 
 Spare, spare my life ! a trembling virgin spare ! 
 Oh, listen to the Hamadryad's prayer ! 
 No longer let that fearful axe resound ; 
 Preserve the tree to which my life is bound. 
 See, from the bark my blood in torrents flows ; 
 I faint, I sink, I perish from your blows. 
 Apollonins Rhoditis. 
 
o.q ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 SPECIMEN PROGRAM. 
 
 Prepared by Professor Edward Hayward, Clyde, N. Y., 1889. 
 Selections marked thus * given in this volume. See Index. 
 
 I. Music — "The Arrow and the Song." 
 
 II. Essay— "The Day We Celebrate." - - 
 
 III. Quotations — *" The Flowers." - - - Scholars from 2d Grade. 
 
 IV. Recitations — * " Historic Trees." - - Scholars of 5th and 6th Grades. 
 V. Music — * " Swinging 'Neath the Old Apple Tree." 
 
 VI. Essay — "Woodman, Spare that Tree." 
 VII. Recitation — *" Woodman, Spare that Tree." 
 VIII. Recitations — "The Autumn Leaves." - - Scholars from 1st Grade. 
 IX. Music — " Come to the Wild Wood." 
 X. Recitation — Prelude. ----- 
 
 XI. Quotations- — "* Trees. Scholars of 3rd and 4th Grades. 
 
 XII. Recitation — * " The Last Tree of the Forest." 
 XIII. Music — " Come to the Forest." - 
 
 About the Tree. 
 I. Oration. ....--.--- 
 
 II. Chorus. Class of Girls 
 
 SPECIMEN PROGRAM. 
 
 St. Augustine, Florida. 
 
 PROGRAM, FEBRUARY, 1S90. 
 
 Prepared and furnished by Superintendent Walter E. Knibloe. 
 
 Part First. 
 
 1. Song. 
 
 2. Reading of Proclamation. 
 
 3. Essay — " Why we Celebrate ? " 
 
 4. Essay — "Use of Trees." 
 
 5. Essay — "Enemies of Trees." 
 
 6. Song. 
 
 Part Second. 
 
 Dedication of trees to the following : H. W. Longfellow, O. W. Holmes, J. G. 
 Whittier, Washington Irving, Alice and Phoebe Cary, B. J. Lossing. 
 
 Part Third. 
 
 1. Dialogue — " Facts from Home and Abroad." 
 
 Characters — Uncle Sam, The forty-two States and Territories, France, Spain, 
 Germany, Italy, Palestine, China, and the American Indian. 
 
 2. Remarks by visitors. 
 
 3. Voting for State Tree. 
 
 4. Song. 
 
 5. Benediction. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 341 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 
 
 PRELIMINARY CIRCULAR, 1889. 
 
 ARBOR DAY, 1889. 
 
 STATE OF NEW YORK. 
 
 Department of Public Instruction, ) 
 
 Superintendent's Office, Albany, March 21, 1889. ) 
 To the Press and the Public : 
 
 The Legislature of 1S8S enacted the following law, approved by the Governor April 30, 1888 : "An Act 
 to Encourage Arboriculture," Chapter 166. 
 
 The People 0/ the Stale 0/ New York, represented in Senate and Assembly, do enact as folloivs : 
 
 Section i. The Friday following the first day of May in each year shall hereafter be known throughout 
 this State as Arbor Day. 
 
 § 2. It shall be the duty of the authorities of every public school in this State, to assemble the scholars in 
 their charge on that day in the school building, or elsewhere, as they may deem proper, and to provide for 
 and conduct, under the general supervision of the City Superintendent or the School Commissioner, or other 
 chief officers having the general oversight of the public schools in each city or district, such exercises as 
 shall tend to encourage the planting, protection and preservation of trees and shrubs, and an acquaintance 
 with the best methods to be adopted to accomplish such results. 
 
 § 3. The State Superintendent of Public Instruction shall have power to prescribe from time to time, in 
 writing, a course of exercises and instruction in the subjects hereinbefore mentioned, which shall be 
 adopted and observed by the public school authorities on Arbor Day, and upon receipt of copies of such 
 course, sufficient m number to supply all the schools under their supervision, the School Commissioner or 
 City Superintendent aforesaid shall promptly provide each of the schools under his or their charge with a 
 copy, and cause it to be adopted and observed. 
 
 § 4. This act shall take effect immediately. 
 
 The first general observance of Arbor Day in this State, under this act, will be on Friday, May 3, 1889 
 and the duty is imposed upon the State Superintendent of Public Instruction to prescribe a course of exer- 
 cises to be observed in the schools of the State in carrying out the spirit of the law. 
 
 A program will be published not later than April 15, next, giving somewhat in detail a general plan for 
 the information and guidance of those contemplating a formal observance of the day by literary exercises 
 or otherwise. This program will give simple directions in reference to the transplanting of trees, and will 
 also give such information as may be obtained, touching the kind of trees most suitable for transplanting, 
 care and treatment of trees, etc. 
 
 Preliminary to the publication of such program, the Superintendent invites suggestions from all who are 
 specially interested in the subject, as to the proper arrangement of a course of exercises, what it should in- 
 clude, etc., to the end that the observance of the day may be an occasion of interest and benefit to all the 
 people, and especially to the school children of the State. 
 
 Pending any further announcement, the following observations and recommendations are submitted : 
 
 The plain intent of the law is to encourage the planting, protection and preservation of trees and shrubs, 
 with such other features as will tend to impress upon the minds of all the desirability of beautifying school 
 grounds, and of doing something to overcome the destruction of trees made necessary by the demands of 
 business and commerce. Something should be done to make more attractive and comfortable the many 
 thousand school-grounds of the State which now lack a tree or shrub, either for use or ornament. The 
 spirit of the law will be complied with, certainly, at first, by setting out trees about school grounds, dedi- 
 cating them to distinguished scholars, educators, statesmen, generals, historians or poets, or to people or 
 children closely identified with the schools. Where school-house grounds are already sufficiently pro- 
 tected and beautified, or where school-grounds are so limited as to leave no room for tree planting, trees 
 may be planted along the approaches to school-grounds, or in any appropriate place to be selected by the 
 school authorities. It is hoped that where school-grounds are too limited to admit trees, that the proper 
 authorities may soon be induced to secure additional land. 
 
 The planting of the trees may very properly be supplemented by literary exercises, out of doors when 
 weather permits, and in the school-houses where out-door exercises are not advisable. These exercises 
 
342 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 
 
 may include the singing of appropriate songs, the reading or recital of prose or poetical selections relating 
 to this subject, a short address by some suitable person, essays, letters, etc., etc. 
 
 In cities it may be necessary to omit tree planting. In such cases it is recommended that principals of 
 schools provide exercises of the character above outlined. 
 
 It will be seen that the observance of the law is not compulsory. There is no penalty for non-compli- 
 ance. But it is hoped that the first Arbor Day in the Empire State may be observed in some degree in 
 every school district of the State. The exercises may be as simple or extended as the opportunities or ad- 
 vantages may provide. If a tree cannot be planted, let it be a vine or shrub, or an ivy. Let some growing 
 thing testify to the observance of the day and the interest of the school children in it. 
 
 Arbor Day is now observed in nearly every State in the Union. Let New York, her people and her 
 children, identify themselves with a movement which will erect living monuments of use and beauty, to 
 the intelligence of the present generation, and which will add pleasure and comfort to the generations yet 
 to come. 
 
 Programs will be issued in sufficient quantities to School Commissioners and City Superintendents to 
 supply each school with from three to five copies. 
 
 The following suggestions by a correspondent deeply interested in the subject are presented as worthy of 
 consideration. 
 
 That three brief poetical compositions be set to appropriate music, and that they be committed to memory 
 and sung by the school children, on that day, throughout the State. One of these compositions might be a 
 hymn in praise of the natural world, as exemplified in forest, plant and flower, and of thankfulness to God 
 for their creation and for our power to appreciate them. 
 
 Another, a song of dedication and aspiration, to be sung about a tree when planted on this day; and a 
 third, embodying thoughts which might be suitably expressed in a march of the children through the 
 locality which they desire to improve by the planting of trees, etc. The material to be gathered by a 
 thoughtful perusal of the subject might surely be expected to inspire our most gifted poets. 
 
 I would suggest that a call be made through the press for such compositions, and then that a similar call 
 be made upon our musical composers to set them to music. 
 
 Acting upon the suggestions above outlined, I invite brief poetical compositions of the character indicated. 
 As the time for preparation is short, these contributions should be furnished not later than April 5. They 
 may be addressed to the State Superintendent of Public Instruction at Albany, and selections will be made 
 for use on A rbor Day, proper credit being given for authorship in all cases where the work is used. 
 
 A. S. DRAPER, State Superintendent. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 543 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 
 
 CIRCULAR OF SUPERINTENDENT OF PUBLIC 
 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 ARBOR DAY, MAY 3, 1889. 
 
 STATE OF NEW YORK, 
 
 Department of Public Instruction, i 
 
 Superintendent's Office, Albany, April 15, 1SC9. ) 
 
 Acting under the law of 1888, the Superintendent of Public Instruction submits herewith some sugges- 
 tions which it is hoped may be of service to the schools in observing the first Arbor Day in this State, which 
 will occur May 3 next, accompanying the same with original songs and poems which have been contributed 
 for this use, together with appropriate selections from various authors who have written on subjects in 
 harmony with the spirit of the day. 
 
 The primary purpose of the Legislature in establishing " Arbor Day," was to develop and stimulate in 
 the children of the Commonwealth a love and reverence for Nature as revealed in trees and shrubs and 
 flowers. In the language of the statute "to encourage the planting, protection and preservation of trees 
 and shrubs" was believed to be the most effectual way in which to lead our children to love Nature and 
 reverence Nature's God, and to see the uses to which these natural objects may be put in making our 
 school- grounds more healthful and attractive. 
 
 The object sought may well command the most thoughtful consideration and the painstaking efforts of 
 school officers, teachers and pupils in every school district, and in every educational institution, and of all 
 others who are interested in beautifying the schools and the homes of the State. 
 
 It will be well not only to plant trees and shrubs and vines and flowers where they may contribute to 
 pleasure and comfort, but also to provide for their perpetual care, and to supplement such work by exer- 
 cises which will lead all to a contemplation of the subject in its varied relations and resultant influences 
 It is fitting that trees should be dedicated to eminent scholars, educators, statesmen, soldiers, historians or 
 poets, or to favorite teachers or pupils in the different localities. On this occasion, however, it would be 
 especially appropriate to dedicate one tree in each district to Washington. 
 
 The opportunity should not be lost, which is afforded by the occasion, for illustrating and enforcing the 
 thought that the universe, its creation, its arrangement, and all of its developing processes, are not due to 
 human planning or oversight, but to the infinite wisdom and power of God. 
 
 Our school exercises, and particularly those of an unusual character, should be interspersed with selections, 
 songs and acts which will inspire patriotism. Upon the same week in which Arbor Day first occurs, the 
 Nation will celebrate the Inauguration of Washington, the completion of " the more perfect Union" and 
 the full organization of the National Government. It will be a great and magnificent outburst of praise 
 and song and exultation, appropriate to the successful rounding out of the first hundred years of the 
 Nation's life. Let this fact have some place and exert some influence in our Arbor Day exercises. 
 
 It is hoped that the following pages contain information and suggestions, which will aid teachers in pre- 
 paring profitable and interesting exercises for the appropriate observance of the day. Wherever possible, 
 it is advisable to take actual steps toward the planting and care of trees and shrubs. In circumstances 
 where this is not practicable, hold appropriate literary exercises. So far as it can be done, combine the 
 two. Do whatever will arouse an interest in the subject. Particular attention is called to the suggestion 
 concerning the selection, by vote of the children and others participating in the exercises, of a tree which 
 shall be the choice as the State Tree. Take the vote, report the result to the superintendent in your 
 city, or the commissioner in your district, and the entire vote will be collated and announced from the 
 Department. 
 
 It is not possible to do more than make general suggestions from this Department. Each teacher must 
 take these hints and any others which may present themselves, and utilize them according to local circum- 
 stances and environments. 
 
 The Superintendent desires to express his thanks to all who have aided him in this matter, and particu- 
 larly to the press of the State for the promptness and prominence with which the subject has been treated. 
 
 A. S. DRAPER, State Superintendent. 
 
3 44 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, \\ 
 
 PROGRAM. 
 
 Caution : Do not make the program too long. 
 
 iThis program is intended to be merely suggestive, and may be varied as tastes, circumstances and op- 
 portunities may permit. The ingenuity of teachers is relied upon to make such changes as may be neces- 
 sary to interest in some way all grades of pupils, care being taken to make the exercises as full of life as 
 possible.) 
 
 SUGGESTIONS : The order of recitations noted below may be greatly varied. Different scholars 
 may recite one verse each of a stated poem, all reciting the last verse in concert. " The Planting of the 
 Apple Tree" may appropriately be used in this connection, to be followed by singing in concert, "Swing- 
 ing 'neath the Old Apple Tree." 
 
 A very appropriate exercise for younger children may be made under the head " Breezes from the For- 
 est," or " Voices of the Trees," in which many children may take part, each pupil reciting a verse especially 
 prepared. The first may begin : " I am the sugar maple," etc., other pupils speaking as other trees. The 
 following is given as an illustration of this plan, adopted at Port Henry, N. Y., in 1888 : 
 
 " I am the sugar maple, and a favorite ornamental tree. People love me because I am possessed of 
 sweetness. I claim to have made more boys and girls happy than any other tree. I have many changes of 
 dress — wearing in spring the softest shade of every color, in the summer the purest emerald, and in the 
 autumn the most brilliant yellow. My wood is used for furniture, floors, and for furnishing the interior of 
 houses, and after the houses are finished, few can warm them better than I." 
 
 The expression in the opening sentence may be varied, as " I am known as" — " They call me," etc. 
 
 Older pupils might interest themselves in organizing as a " Convention 0/ Trees" each pupil represent- 
 ing a tree familiar in the locality, and to be called by its name. Officers to be chosen by name of trees, and 
 remarks and discussions participated in by members of the Convention, to be recognized by names of trees. 
 
 Compositions may be prepared by older students upon various subjects connected with trees; as, for ex- 
 ample, their uses for shade, for ornament, for producing fuel, lumber, etc. ; their influence in increasing the 
 rainfall, retaining moisture, modifying the temperature, etc.; their value in furnishing food, materials for 
 clothing, ropes, medicines, oils, homes for the birds, houses, furniture, etc.; their value as defense against 
 storms, from avalanches in Switzerland, and in preserving health by counteracting the influences of malaria 
 etc. 
 
 Compositions may also be written on the size of trees, trees in history, care of trees, enemies of trees, the 
 kinds and habits of native trees, kinds of ornamental trees; also, a description of the tree chosen for plant- 
 ing, its characteristics, usefulness, etc.; upon varieties of shrubs that are valuable for landscape gardening, 
 their habits of growth, flowering, etc. The same exercises may be extended to include the vines or flower 
 seeds or flowering plants that may be selected for cultivation. 
 
 1. DEVOTIONAL EXERCISES: 
 
 a. Reading of Scripture. b. Prayer. c. Song. 
 
 Note. — See Scripture lesson given elsewhere. This may be read by one person, or different scholars 
 may each repeat averse or a sentence. Or it may be made a responsive service, the teacher repeating 
 one sentence, and scholars the next. 
 
 2. READING OF THE LAW ESTABLISHING ARBOR DAY. 
 
 3. READING OF DEPARTMENT CIRCULAR, AND OF LETTERS IN REFERENCE TO 
 
 ARBOR DAY. 
 Note. — Many teachers and others in charge of exercises may choose to invite letters appropriate to the 
 occasion, from prominent persons in the different localities who are unable to be present. 
 
 4. SONG. 
 
 5. RECITATIONS.— By different pupils. 
 
 First Pupil : 
 
 " The groves were God's first temples, 
 
 Ere man learned 
 
 To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave 
 
 And spread the roof above them — ere he framed 
 
 The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 
 
 The round of anthems, in the darkling wood, 
 
 Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down 
 
 And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
 
 And supplications." Bryant. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 345 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 
 
 Second Pupil: 
 " I shall speak of trees, as we see them, love them, adore them in the fields where they are alive, holding 
 their green sunshades over our heads, talking to us with their hundred thousand whispering tongues, look- 
 ing down on us with that sweet meekness which belongs to huge but limited organisms — which one sees 
 most in the patient posture, the outstretched arms, and the heavy drooping robes of these vast beings, en- 
 dowed with life, but not with soul — which outgrow us and outlive us, but stand helpless, poor things — while 
 nature dresses and undresses them." Holmes. 
 
 Third Pupil: 
 " Give fools their gold and knaves their power; For he who blesses most is blest; 
 
 Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; And God and man shall own his worth, 
 
 Who sows a field, or trains a flower, Who toils to leave as his bequest 
 
 Or plants a tree, is more than all. An added beauty to the earth." Whittier. 
 
 Fourth Pupil : 
 " There is something nobly simple and pure in a taste for the cultivation of forest trees. It argues, I think, 
 a sweet and generous nature to have this strong relish for the beauties of vegetation, and this friendship 
 for the hardy and glorious sons of the forest. There is a grandeur of thought connected with this part of 
 rural economy. * * * He who plants an oak looks forward to future ages, and plants for posterity. 
 Nothing can be less selfish than this." Irving. 
 
 Fifth Pupil: 
 " What conqueror in any part of l Life's broad field of battle ' could desire a more beautiful, a more 
 noble, or a more patriotic monument than a tree planted by the hands of pure and joyous children, as a 
 memorial of his achievements." Lossing. 
 
 Sixth Pupil : 
 
 Oh ! Rosalind, these trees shall be my books. 
 And in their barks my thoughts I'll character, 
 That every eye which in this forest looks, 
 
 Shall see thy virtue witnessed everywhere. Shakespeare. 
 
 Seventh Pupil : 
 " There is something unspeakably cheerful in a spot of ground which is covered with trees, that smiles 
 amidst all the rigors of winter, and gives us a view of the most gay season in the midst of that which is the 
 most dead and melancholy." Addison. 
 
 Eighth Pupil: 
 "As the leaves of trees are said to absorb all noxious qualities of the air, and to breathe forth a purer 
 atmosphere, so it seems to me as if they drew from us all sordid and angry passions, and breathed forth 
 peace and philanthropy." Irving. 
 
 Ninth Pupil : 
 
 " I care not how men trace their ancestry, 
 To ape or Adam; let them please their whim; 
 But I in June am midway to believe 
 A tree among my far progenitors, 
 Such sympathy is mine with all the race, 
 Such mutual recognition vaguely sweet 
 
 There is between us." Lowell. 
 
 Tenth Pupil: 
 " Trees have about them something beautiful and attractive even to the fancy. Since they cannot change 
 their plan, are witnesses of all the changes that take place around them; and as some reach a great age, 
 they become, as it were, historical monuments, and, like ourselves, they have a life growing and passing 
 away, not being inanimate and unvarying like the fields and rivers. One sees them passing through vari- 
 ous stages , and at last, step by step, approaching death, which makes them look still more like ourselves." 
 Eleventh Pupil: Humboldt. 
 
 " Summer or winter, day or night, 
 The woods are an ever new delight; 
 They give us peace, and they make us strong, 
 Such wonderful balms to them belong; 
 So, living or dying, I'll take my ease 
 Under the trees, under the trees." Stoddard. 
 
346 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 
 
 6. READING OR DECLAMATION. 
 
 7. SONG. 
 
 8. ADDRESS. — " Our School-houses and our Homes, How to beautify them." 
 Note. — Any other appropriate subject may be selected. 
 
 9. SONG. 
 
 10. BRIEF ESSAYS.— By different scholars. 
 First scholar may choose for subject, " My Favorite Tree is the Oak," and give reasons. Other scholars 
 may follow, taking for subjects the Elm, Maple, Beech, Birch, Ash, etc. These essays should be very short, 
 n. SONG. 
 
 12. VOTING ON THE QUESTION.— " What is the Favorite State Tree." 
 
 13. READING OR RECITATION. 
 
 14. SONG. 
 
 15. ORGANIZATION OF LOCAL " Shade-Tree Planting Association." (See Suggestions under 
 
 this head elsewhere.) 
 Note.— The scholars should at least appoint a committee to serve for a year to see that trees planted are 
 properly cared for. 
 l5. SONG.— America. 
 
 PROGRAM— AT THE TREE. 
 
 Suggestions : Arriving at the place designated for the planting of a tree, every thing should be found 
 in readiness by previous preparation, in order that there may be no delay. By arrangement, the tree 
 should be dedicated to some particular person as may have been decided. It would be well to have printed 
 or painted on tin or wood, and attached to the tree, the name of the person to whom it is dedicated. 
 
 After a marching song has been sung on the way to the tree, the following order of exercises is suggested : 
 
 1. PLACE THE TREE CAREFULLY IN POSITION. (See 5, below.) 
 Note.— When advisable, the tree may be placed in position in advance of the exercises. 
 
 2. SONG. 
 
 3. A brief statement by the teacher or another concerning the person to whom the tree is 
 
 dedicated. 
 
 4. When practicable — recital of quotations from the writings of the person thus honored. 
 
 5. Let each pupil in the class, or such as may be designated, deposit a spadeful of earth. 
 
 6. SONG. 
 
 Note.— Where impracticable to plant trees,— shrubs, vines or flowers may be substituted. A flower bed 
 may be laid out, and vines set in or seeds planted. 
 
 SCRIPTURE SELECTIONS. 
 
 And God said let the earth bring forth the fruit tree yielding fruit after its kind; and the earth brought 
 forth the tree yielding fruit; and God saw that it was good. And out of the ground made the Lord God to 
 grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food. 
 
 And Abraham said to the three angels : " Rest yourselves under the tree; " and he stood by them under 
 the tree, and they did eat. 
 
 The tree of the field is man's life. Then shall the trees of the wood sing out at the presence of the Lord; 
 then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice before the Lord. The trees of the Lord are full of sap, the cedars 
 of Lebanon which He hath planted; where the birds make their nests; as for the stork, the fir trees are her 
 house. 
 
 Blessed is the man whose delight is in the law of the Lord ; he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of 
 water that bringeth forth its fruit in due season; his leaf shall not wither ; and whatsoever he doeth shall 
 prosper. 
 
 Of Wisdom, the wise man saith : She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her, and happy is every 
 one that retaineth her. And again, the fruit of the righteous is a tree of life ; while Hope deferred maketh 
 the heart sick, when the desire cometh it is a tree of life; and a wholesome tongue is a tree of life. 
 
 And the angel carried me away in the spirit, and showed me that great city, the New Jerusalem ; in the 
 midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river was there the tree of life which bear twelve manner 
 of fruits, and yielded its fruit every month; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. 
 And he said: To him that overcometh, I will give to eat of the tree of life which is in the midst of the Para- 
 dise of God. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 347 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 
 
 SHADE-TREE PLANTING ASSOCIATION. 
 
 SUGGESTIONS BY J. L. BAGG, SYRACUSE, N. Y. 
 
 As an excellent means of securing the planting of shade trees, it is suggested that a " Shade-Tree Planting 
 Association " be organized in each school district in the county for the purpose of securing the planting of 
 trees along all the vacant'roadsides in the district. Unless the grown-up people of the district shall promptly 
 move in this matter, let the association be formed by the school children of the district, both girls and boys. 
 They, of course, will commence the work by planting trees around their own school-house. They might 
 not, themselves, be able to pull up the trees in the forest, but they could readily get their big broth- 
 ers and kind fathers to do this for them. All the boys, both great and small, could take part in digging the 
 holes and planting the trees, and the girls could direct the trimming of them, and so all, even the smallest 
 pupil, will have done something toward this beautiful work. When this shall have been done, the associa- 
 tion might have a celebration, to which any person residing in the district shall be made welcome. 
 
 Next it will be in order, if there be a church or public square in the district, whose grounds arc barren of 
 trees (as such are apt to be) for the association to get up another " bee" for their adornment. And when 
 the school-grounds and the church-yard have been thus beautified, and the boys and girls shall have had 
 the good time consequent thereto, then the association might send its committees canvassing from house to 
 house through the district, until each land-owner shall have given a positive promise, that at the next tree- 
 planting season his farm fronts shall be supplied with the requisite shade-trees. 
 
 THE BEST TREES AND VINES. 
 
 I think the trees best adapted for successful culture in our region are the elm, maple, linden, ash, birch, 
 beech, dogwood, pines, spruces, some of the willows, some of the poplars, a tulip tree, horse chestnut, ca- 
 talpa, laburnum and oak. The shrubs which seem best adapted to our State, so far as I know, are the 
 deutzia, hydrangea, spiraea, wiegela, privet, arbor vitae, flowering cherry, flowering plum and hawthorn. 
 Among our best and hardiest vines are the clematis, the bitter sweet, wistaria, trumpet vine, honeysuckle, 
 morning glory, Virginia creeper and ampelopsis veitchii. The best plants for bedding purposes seem to be 
 pansies, verbenas, geraniums, coleuses, centaurea and hybrid roses. Beautiful beds may be formed by 
 planting seeds of the portulacca, pansies, verbenas, zinias, asters, dahlias, petunias, chrysanthemums, nas- 
 turtiums, balsams, phlox, sweet William, and seeds of other wejl-known plants. — Dr W. J. Milne, Gene- 
 seo Normal School. 
 
 CAUTION. 
 
 Trees should not be planted so near houses that the roots will interfere with the foundations or that their 
 shade will make the house damp. 
 
 Trees should not be planted so closely along road-ways as to hinder the prompt drying of the road after 
 a rain. 
 
 Ornamental trees should not have the effect of a forest. 
 
 ARBOR DAY POEMS. 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 ARBOR DAY TRIBUTE. 
 
 With lavish hand our God hath spread The perfumed breeze of smiling May, 
 Beauty and fragrance o'er the land; The dancing stream on mountain side, 
 
 His smile revives the seeming dead ; The wild bird's trill of joyous lay, 
 
 Nature awakes at His command. Proclaim Thy goodness far and wide. 
 
 He breathes upon the leafless tree, Attune our hearts to sing Thy praise, 
 He whispers to the tiny flower, Expand our souls to comprehend 
 
 His touch awakes the slumb'nng bee, Thy attributes and all Thy ways, 
 
 And each obeys th' Almighty Power. And ever be our Guide and Friend. 
 
 We plant to-day within the mould, 
 
 The stock that needs thy tender care; 
 Send deep its roots, its buds unfold, 
 
 In answer to our faith and prayer. 
 
 Jared Barhite, Irvington-on-the-Hudson, N. Y. 
 
348 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, il 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 CHILDREN'S ARBOR DAY MARCH. 
 
 We are marching for the arbor, 
 
 And our hearts are free from care; 
 
 All our thoughts in tune to nature, 
 "With the music of the air. 
 
 Cho. — Marching merrily, singing cheerily, 
 
 And our hearts are free from care; 
 Buds are springing, birds are singing. 
 There is music ev'rywhere. 
 
 Thinking of the happy faces 
 In the happy bye and bye, 
 
 Who will come to take our places 
 
 When our school days have gone by. 
 
 Cho. — Marching merrily, singing cheerily, 
 
 And our hearts are free from care ; 
 Bells are ringing, joys are springing, 
 There is gladness ev'rywhere. 
 
 Flowers are smiling, bees are humming 
 O'er the land we're passing through ; 
 
 Robin shyly greets our coming, — 
 Every thing to nature true. 
 
 Cho. — Marching merrily, singing cheerily, 
 
 And our hearts are free from care; 
 Colors blending, tints unending, — 
 There is beauty ev'rywhere. 
 
 We will bless the mighty Power 
 
 Who for us the feast hath spread, 
 
 For all life, for tree and flower, 
 And His heavens overhead. 
 
 Cho. — Marching merrily, singing cheerily. 
 
 And our hearts are free from care ; 
 In each beauty, learning duty, 
 For His love is ev'rywhere. 
 
 E. A. Holbrook, Watertown, N. Y. 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 SONG OF DEDICATION. 
 
 [Air- 
 
 The tree we are planting this May day 
 
 Is chosen with tenderest care ; 
 May beauty adorn it, hereafter. 
 
 And clothe it with usefulness rare. 
 May green leaves appearing each spring time 
 
 Be leaves of a fair book of Fame, 
 And spread to the breezes the story 
 
 Extolling the new-given name. 
 
 " Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean."] 
 
 The tree is an emblem of greatness, 
 
 As, springing from one tiny seed, 
 It mounts ever upward and onward 
 
 An emblem of greatness, indeed ! 
 The birds sing Us praises to others, 
 
 The winds carry swiftly the tale, 
 The tree is the monarch of forest, 
 
 Of hill, valiey, greenwood and dale. 
 Ellen Beauchamp, Baldwinsville, N. Y„ 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 ARBOR DAY INVOCATION. 
 
 Like the glad birds of springtime, 
 
 Our praises we sing, 
 To God the great giver 
 
 Of every good thing ; 
 Till earth, with glad voices, 
 
 Shall echo again, 
 From woodland and meadow, 
 
 From mountain and plain. 
 
 The ever glad chorus, 
 
 The springtime is here ; 
 With bird songs, with flowers: 
 
 And all her giad cheer ; 
 While over the land that 
 
 We treasure so dear, 
 We scatter God's blessings 
 
 Afar and a-near. 
 
 Gqd bless us, we pray Thee, 
 
 A young student band ; 
 Ever help us in truth 
 
 And uprightness to stand ; 
 And bless Thou the labor 
 
 Our hands do to-day, 
 Mid the bird songs and flowers 
 
 Of beautiful May. 
 
 Emma S. Thomas, Schoharie, N. Y. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 349 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 
 
 We, children of the free, 
 Come here to plant this tree, 
 
 With prayer and song; 
 A living sign to stand. 
 Of love to Fatherland, 
 
 While years prolong. 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 INVOCATION. 
 
 [Air — " America."] 
 
 In every flower and tree, 
 God's forming hand we see, 
 
 And His great love, 
 And every bud and leaf 
 Increases our belief 
 
 In heaven above. 
 
 'Tis meet a leafy shade 
 Should shelter boy or maid, 
 
 Who hither hies, 
 To spend in studious hours, 
 Fair childhood's growing powers, 
 
 And seek truth's prize. 
 
 Dear God of Nature, grant 
 This tree which now we plant 
 
 May live and grow, 
 To bless with grace and shade, 
 This loved and cherished glade, 
 Our love to show. 
 P. Harlow, City Editor "Leader" Kingston, N. Y. 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 SONG FOR TREE-PLANTING. 
 
 [Air — " Dearest May."] 
 
 In soil the dearest and the best, 
 
 On which the sun can shine, 
 We plant thee, tree, in hope, to-day, 
 
 O, let our cause be thine ! 
 Strike deep thy roots, wax wide and tall, 
 
 That all this truth may know, 
 Thou art our type of future power, 
 
 Like thee, we, too, shall grow. 
 
 In coming years, thy kindly shade 
 
 The sons of toil shall bless; 
 Thy beauty and thy grace shall all 
 
 With grateful voice confess ; 
 And so our youth in wisdom trained 
 
 Shall render service great, 
 Our schools send sons and daughters forth, 
 
 The glory of the State. 
 
 Refrain — Like thee, we, too, shall grow, 
 
 Like thee, we, too, shall grow, 
 
 Thou art our type of future power, 
 
 Like thee, we, too, shall grow. 
 
 Refrain — The glory of the State, 
 
 The glory of the State, 
 Our schools send sons and daughters forth, 
 The glory of the State. 
 
 Strike deep thy roots, wax wide and tall, 
 
 Since thou our pledge shall be, 
 Of all the good we vow to bring 
 
 Our country grand and free. 
 In place of one by ax or age 
 
 Cut off, long mayst thou stand 
 We march to take our fathers' room, 
 
 And do the work they planned. 
 
 Refrain — And do the work they planned, 
 
 And do the work they planned, 
 We march to take our fathers' room, 
 And do the work they planned. 
 
 Sara J. Undkrwooo, Chester, N. V 
 
35o 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 
 
 (Original.) 
 A HYMN IN PRAISE OF THE NATURAL WORLD. 
 
 [Air — " Auld Lang Syne."] 
 
 The winter storms have passed away, 
 
 And spring-time now is here 
 With sunshine smiling all around, 
 
 And heavens blue and clear. 
 The gifts of Nature brighten earth, 
 
 And make her garden gay ; 
 They give a cheery greeting bright 
 
 On this, the Arbor Day. 
 
 The flowers have risen from their sleep. 
 
 And, decked in garments gay, 
 They lift their smiling faces bright 
 
 On this, the Arbor Day. 
 They shed forth all their fragrance rare. 
 
 And loving tribute pay, 
 And give of all their little wealth 
 
 On this, the Arbor Day. 
 
 The birds with gladsome voices sing, 
 
 Each its melodious lay, 
 And music swells each little throat 
 
 On this, the Arbor Day. 
 The trees put forth their greenest leaves 
 
 On this, the Arbor Day, 
 And welcome now the chosen tree 
 
 Which we shall plant to-day. 
 
 Ellen Beauchamp, Baldwinsville, N. Y. 
 
 
 (Original.). 
 
 THE OLD WOOD. 
 
 To me, no dull insensate growth 
 Those heirs of Time appear; 
 
 But life, with thought and feeling both 
 My fancy findeth here. 
 
 A purpose held, an upward aim, 
 Those sylvan monarchs teach ; 
 
 The finer traits that man may claim, 
 Seem attributes of each. 
 
 How deep the strong Oaks grasp the soil, 
 
 At danger, loud they scoff. 
 The tempest in its strength they foil, 
 
 And hurl its dark clouds off. 
 
 Theirs is the nature that achieves. 
 
 No yielding there is found; 
 The very rustle of their leaves 
 
 Assumes a martial sound. 
 
 Of gentler mould, of softer mood, 
 One prone to pause or dream; 
 
 A stately poet of the wood, 
 The lofty Pine doth seem. 
 
 And softly through its slender leaves. 
 
 The wind is mourning on, 
 As when some noble spirit grieves 
 
 For some great hope now gone. 
 
 Scarce matched in beauty of them all 
 
 On high the Elms extend; 
 Graceful as fountain in its fall, 
 
 Their long lithe branches bend. 
 
 When Autumm's touch of beauty brings 
 
 New charms upon the trees; 
 The glory of a thousand kings 
 
 May not compare with these. 
 
 The Maple, d) T ed in sunset hues, 
 
 Would dim the Hebrew's throne, 
 
 And Sheba's Oueen would scarce refuse 
 To say she was outshone. 
 
 A saffron tint the Beech receives, 
 
 The Birch's boughs turn pale; 
 O'er ledge and crag the Berry leaves 
 
 In dark red streamers trail. 
 
 In russet robes the Ivy lies 
 
 Upon its mound of stone ; 
 A scarlet sash the Woodbine ties 
 
 Around the Cedar's cone. 
 
 And over all the Autumn air 
 
 Lies like a golden flood ; 
 The works of God seem perfect there, 
 
 Within the grand old wood. 
 
 Hugh Kelso, Kinderhook, N. Y. 
 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 351 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 TRIBUTE TO NATURE. 
 
 Of nature broad and free. 
 Of grass and flower and tree, 
 
 Sing we to-day. 
 God hath pronounced it good, 
 So we, His creatures would 
 Offer to field and wood, 
 
 Our heartfelt lay. 
 
 To all that meets the eye, 
 In earth, or air, or sky, 
 
 Tribute we bring. 
 Barren this world would be, 
 Bereft of shrub and tree ; 
 Now gracious Lord to Thee, 
 
 Praises we sing. 
 
 [Tune — " America."] 
 
 May we Thy hand behold, 
 As bud and leaf unfold, 
 
 See but Thy thought ; 
 Nor heedlessly destroy, 
 Nor pass unnoticed by ; 
 But be our constant joy. 
 
 All Thou hast wrought. 
 
 As each small bud and flower 
 Speaks of the Maker's power, 
 
 Tells of His love ; 
 So we, Thy children dear, 
 Would live from year to year, 
 Show forth Thy goodness here. 
 
 And then above. 
 Mary A. Heekmans, Elmira, N. Y. 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 THE CLASS TREE. 
 
 Deep in the earth to-day, 
 Safely thy roots we lay, 
 
 Tree of our love ; 
 Grow thou, and flourish long 
 Ever our grateful song 
 Shall its glad notes prolong 
 To God above. 
 
 [Tune — " America."] 
 
 Grow thou and flourish well 
 Ever the story tell, 
 
 Of this glad day ; 
 Long may thy branches raise 
 To heaven our grateful praise • 
 Waft them, on sunlight rays 
 
 To God away. 
 
 " Let music swell the breeze. 
 And ring from all the trees," 
 
 On this glad day ; 
 Bless Thou each student band 
 O'er all our happy land ; 
 Teach them Thy love's command 
 Great God, we pray. 
 
 Emma S. Thomas, Schoharie, N. Y. 
 (Original.) 
 
 ARBOR DAY. 
 
 Plant in the springtime the beautiful trees, 
 So that in future each soft summer breeze, 
 Whispering through tree-tops may call to our mind, 
 Days of our childhood then left far behind. 
 
 Days when we learned to be faithful and true ; 
 Days when we yearned our life's future to view; 
 Days when the good seemed so easy to do; 
 Days when life's cares were so light and so few. 
 
 Oft in the present are we made to know 
 What was done for us in years long ago, 
 How others sowed in the vast fields of thought, 
 And, to us, harvests from their work is brought. 
 
 And, as we read, in some tree's welcome shade, 
 Of the works of earth's wise men, which never can 
 
 fade, 
 Thanks would we waft on the soft summer breeze, 
 Both to planters of thought and to planters of trees. 
 
 Then should we think, in our heritage grand, 
 We, too, belong to that glorious band, 
 Who in word or in thought, or in deed something do 
 To advance this old world somewhat on to the new. 
 
 As in the past men did plant for to-day, 
 So will we plant in this beautiful May, 
 Trees that in future shall others shade cool, 
 Thoughts that shall ripen for earth's future school. 
 
 Anonymous. 
 
352 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, ii 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 ARBOR DAY MARCH. 
 
 Note.— Children singing this selection could be provided with small flags to be waved during the singin; 
 
 of the words " Hurrah." 
 
 [Air — "Marching Through Georgia.' 1 ] 
 
 Celebrate the Arbor Day Flow'rs are blooming all around — 
 
 . With march and song and cheer, Are blooming on this day, 
 
 For the season comes to us And the trees with verdure clad, 
 
 Rut once in ev'ry year ; Welcome the month of May, 
 
 Should we not remember it Making earth a garden fair 
 
 And make the mem'ry dear — To hail the Arbor Day. 
 
 Memories sweet for this May day ? Clothing all Nature with gladness. 
 
 Chorus — Hurrah ! hurrah ! the Arbor Day is here , 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! it gladdens ev'ry year ; 
 So we plant a young tree on this blithesome Arbor Day 
 While we are singing for gladness. 
 
 Ellen Beauchamp, Baldwinsville, N. Y. 
 
 (Original 
 
 CHILDREN'S PRAISE SONG. 
 
 [Air — Webb. — "The Morning Light is Breaking," etc.] 
 
 Thus came the welcome favor, In grateful imitation, 
 
 From the Creator's hand, Of the Creator's hand, 
 
 Dispensing life and beauty, Let us extend the ble6sing 
 
 With joy to every land; In this, our favored land; 
 
 The earth received the blessing, On Arbor Day be willing 
 
 And, grateful to her King, To multiply the gift, 
 
 Doth, each recurring season, While gentle rains distilling, 
 
 Rich tribute to Him bring. Shall cause abundant thrift. 
 
 
 Then, let us now, most grateful, 
 
 To the Creator raise 
 Our hearts in adoration, 
 
 In joyful words of praise; 
 For thus, may all creation, 
 
 In worship so divine, 
 Unite in pure devotion, 
 
 At Nature's holy shrine. 
 
 Thus, through the lapse of ages, 
 
 The blessing shall extend, 
 And earth's most beauteous pages 
 
 Grow brighter to the end; 
 While we with songs of gladness. 
 
 Shall ever grateful raise, 
 To the all-wise Creator, 
 
 Our heartfelt words of praise. 
 
 W. B. Downer, Cazenovia, N. V. 
 
 (Original.) 
 
 PLANTING THE TREE. 
 
 [Music — "Flag of the Free,' 
 
 Gather we here to plant the fair tree ; 
 
 Gladsome the hour, joyous and free, 
 
 Greeting to thee, fairest of May ! 
 
 Breathe sweet the buds on our loved Arbor Day, 
 
 Gather we now, the sapling around, 
 
 Singing our song— let it resound : 
 
 Happy the day ! Happy the hour ! 
 Joyous we, all of us, feel their glad power. 
 
 Shovel and spade, trowel and hoe, 
 
 Carefully dig up the quick yielding ground ; 
 Make we a bed, softly lay low 
 
 ' No. i, Franklin Square Collection.] 
 
 Each little root with the earth spread around; 
 Snug as a nest, the soil round them pressed, 
 This is the home that the rootlings love best. 
 Refrain. 
 
 Moisten and soften the ground, ye Spring Rains ; 
 
 Swell ye the buds, and fill ye the veins, 
 
 Bless the dear tree, bountiful Sun ; 
 
 Warm thou the blood in the stem till it run ; 
 
 Hasten the growth, let leaves have birth, 
 
 Make it most beautiful thing of the earth. 
 
 Refrain. 
 
 Dr. E. P. Waterbury, Albany Normal School. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 35. 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, li 
 
 HOW TO PLANT TREES — WHAT TO PLANT. 
 
 U. S. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE, 
 
 FORESTRY DIVISION. 
 
 Circular No. 5, 1889. 
 
 ARBOR DAY PLANTING IN EASTERN STATES. 
 
 The following circular has been prepared to answer inquiries from school 
 superintendents and other officials as well as private individuals who are inter- 
 ested in tree planting on Arbor Day. J. M. RUSK, 
 
 Secretary. 
 
 Sir: I have the honor to submit herewith a circular giving brief instructions 
 on selection of trees and manner of planting for Arbor Day purposes, to answer 
 inquiries from school superintendents and others interested in Arbor Day. 
 
 Respectfully, 
 Hon. J. M. Rusk, B. E. FERNOW, 
 
 Secretary. . Chief of Forestry Division. 
 
 Introductory. — Arbor Days in the Eastern States as a rule contemplate the 
 planting of shade and ornamental trees mainly for the sake of creating a senti- 
 ment and interest in tree planting and eventually in forest culture. 
 
 The following suggestions do not refer to the educational features of Arbor 
 Dav, but are meant to give in the briefest manner such general advice in regard 
 to the selection of trees for the occasion and to the manipulation of planting, 
 as may aid teachers, pupils and others to perform the practical work of Arbor 
 Day with reasonable hope of success. 
 
 Time of Planting'. — The day set for Arbor Day and the weather on that day 
 may not always be the best for planting. Its fitness for an out-door celebration 
 should govern the choice, while the planting may be done at a more suitable 
 season. Spring, before the buds open (February to May) is as a rule the best 
 time for transplanting — although with care it can be done all the year round — 
 and a murky or cloudy day is preferable to a sunny one for that operation. 
 
 Choice of Trees :— 
 
 1. General Considerations. — Trees for school grounds and yards, along road- 
 sides and streets, must be such as are least liable to suffer from injuries ; they 
 should be compact and symmetrical in shape, free from objectionable habits, 
 such as bad odors, root-sprouting, frequent dropping of parts, etc., and from 
 insect pests, and if planted for shade, should have a broad crown and a dense 
 foliage, budding early in spring and retaining leaves long into the fall. Absence 
 of skillful hands at tree planting on Arbor Days would also limit the selection 
 to those which are transplanted easily and require the least care. 
 
 Trees native 'to the region in which the planting is dene usually have more 
 promise of success and are generally less costly than exotics. Trees from well- 
 managed nurseries are preferable to those grown in the forest, because their 
 root-system is better prepared for transplanting. Rapidly-growing trees, al- 
 though giving shade soonest, are mostly short lived and become soonest un- 
 sightly. 
 
 2. Size. — Although as a rule small plants have a better promise of success, 
 other considerations recommend the choice of larger sizes for roadside and 
 
 23 
 
354 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 
 
 ornamental planting. Trees of any size can be successfully transplanted, but 
 in proportion to the size grows the difficulty, the amount of work and the care 
 necessary. As a rule the largest size should not exceed two to three inches in 
 diameter at the base and ten to fifteen feet in height. Those one-half that size 
 will probably make better growth, because less of their root-system will be 
 curtailed in taking them up for transplanting. 
 
 3. Diagnosis of a tree suitable for transplanting. — a. An abundance of fibrous 
 roots. Not the turnip-like main or tap-root but the little fibers sustain the life 
 of a tree. See that there are plenty of them, compactly grown within a small 
 compass, and that they are not stripped of their bark or torn at their ends or 
 dried up. 
 
 b. A normal form and well-proportioned development of shaft and crown. 
 The shaft should be clean and straight, neither thick set and short, nor thread- 
 like and over elongated, but gradually tapering and strong enough to hold up 
 its head without support. The normal crown is characterized by vigorous full- 
 sized leaves, or else by a large number of thick and full buds ; it covers the main 
 stem one-third to one-half its length, with a symmetric spread evenly branched, 
 and has only one leader, of moderate length. 
 
 The length and vigor of the last year's shoots, number and thickness of buds, 
 and appearance of the bark afford means of judging the healthy constitution 
 of the tree. 
 
 c. The position from which the tree came has some influence on its further 
 development. Trees from the forest have generally a wide-spreading root- 
 system, which is difficult to take up and transplant. Those which have grown 
 in the shade of the forest as a rule do not start easily in the open sunlight; 
 those from cool north sides are apt to sicken when placed on hot exposures 
 and vice versa. A healthy tree from poor soil transferred into better conditions 
 will show itself grateful by vigorous development. 
 
 Treatment before transplanting. — Transplanting is at best a forcible oper- 
 ation, and injury to the roots, although it may be small, is almost unavoidable. 
 The roots are the life of the tree, and need, therefore, the most attention. In 
 taking up a tree for transplanting the greatest care must be exercised to secure 
 as much of the root-system intact as possible, especially of the small fibrous 
 roots. 
 
 a. Never allow roots to become dry, from the time of taking up the tree until it is 
 transplanted. A healthy-looking tree may have the certainty of death in it if 
 the root fibrils are dried out. To prevent drying during transportation, cover 
 the roots with moist straw or moss or bags, or leave on them as much soil of 
 the original bed as possible. At the place where the tree is to be planted, if 
 the planting cannot be done at once, ''heel in " the roots, i. e., cover them and 
 part of the lower stem with fresh earth, or place the tree in the plant hole, 
 throwing several spadefuls of earth on the roots. 
 
 b. Pruning roots and branches is almost always necessary, but must be done 
 with great care, especially as to root pruning. The cutting at the roots should 
 be as little as possible, only removing with a clean sharp cut the bruised and 
 broken parts. Extra long tap-roots may be cut away, but all the small fibers 
 should be preserved. The cutting at the top is done to bring crown and root 
 into proportion ; the more loss at the root-system has been experienced the 
 more need of reducing the crown system. Larger trees, therefore, require 
 mostly severer pruning, especially on poor soils; yet if there be fibrous roots 
 enough to sustain great evaporation from the crown, the less cut the better. 
 With large trees severe pruning is less dangerous than too little. A clean cut 
 as close as possible to the stem or remaining branch will facilitate the healing 
 of the wound. No stumps should be left (except with conifers, which suffer but 
 little pruning).. Shortening of the end shoots to one-half or two-thirds of their 
 length may be done a little above a bud which is to take the lead. As a rule, 
 the pruning for symmetry should have been done a year or so before trans- 
 planting, but may be done a year after. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 355 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 
 
 Method in planting a tree.— 1. Holes are best made before the trees are 
 brought to the ground. They should be a little deeper than the depth of the 
 root-system, but twice as large around as seems necessary, to facilitate pene- 
 tration of rains and development of rootlets through the loosened soil. Place 
 the top soil, which is better (being richer in easily assimilated plant food) to 
 one side, the raw soil from the bottom to the other side; in filling back bring 
 the richer soil to the bottom. If it be practicable, improve a heavy loamy soil 
 by adding to and mixing with it looser sandy soil, or a loose poor soil by en- 
 riching it with loam or compost. Keep all stones out of the bottom ; they 
 may be used above the roots, or better on the surface. Providing proper 
 drainage is the best means of improving ground for tree planting. Use no 
 manure except as a top dressing. 
 
 2. Planting is best done by two or three persons. A, who manipulates the tree, is 
 the planter and responsible for the result ; B and C do the spading under his 
 direction. A places the tree in the hole, to ascertain whether this is of proper 
 size ; a board or stick laid across the hole aids in judging the depth. Trees 
 should not be set deeper than they stood before, except in loose, poor soil. 
 More trees are killed by too deep planting than the reverse. If the root-sys- 
 tem is developed sideways but not centrally, as is often the case, a hill is raised 
 in the hole to fill out the hollow space in the root-system, and the earth of the 
 hill is patted down with the spade. When the hole is in proper order, A holds 
 the tree perpendicularly in the middle of the hole, with the side bearing the 
 fullest branches toward the south or south-west, for better protection of the 
 shaft against the sun. B and C spread the roots into a natural position, then 
 fill in the soil, using the good soil first — small spadefuls deliberately thrown 
 over the roots in all directions — while A, by a slight shaking and pumping up 
 and down of the stem, aids the earth in settling around the rootlets. A close 
 contact of the soil with the rootlets is the secret of success in planting. Only 
 fine mellow soil, not too moist, and free from stones, will permit such close ad- 
 justment to the rootlets, which should also be aider! by hand and fingers filling 
 in every crevice. A, while setting the tree, must exercise care to keep it in 
 proper position and perpendicular, until the soil is packed so as to keep the 
 tree in place ; then B and C rapidly fill the holes, A treading down the soil 
 firmly after a sufficient quantity is filled in, finishing off a little above the gen- 
 eral level to allow for settling, and finally placing the stones or any mulching 
 around the stem. 
 
 Watering 1 . — The practice of using water while planting can hardly be said to 
 be a good one, unless the water is very carefully applied with a " rose " after 
 the soil is well filled in and packed around the fibrous roots. Especially with 
 a soil which has a tendency to clog, there is great danger of an uneven distri- 
 bution and settling, with consequent empty spaces between the roots. More 
 trees are probably killed by too much water in transplanting than by too little. 
 Water after the transplanting (and perhaps before the last shovels of earth are 
 filled in) especially if the soil was dry, is useful and should be applied during 
 the hot season, choosing the late afternoon or evening for applying it. 
 
 After care. — Any mulch of waste material, hay, straw, or better, wood shav- 
 ings or chips, sawdust, or even stones simply placed around the foot of the 
 tree, is of excellent service in checking evaporation. 
 
 Keeping the ground free from weeds and grass, and preventing it from bak- 
 ing, by occasionally hoeing and raking, is advisable. To prevent the trees from 
 being swayed by the wind, if of larger size, they should be staked firmly; a 
 loose post is worse than none. The tying should be so done as not to cut or 
 injure the tree ; a tree-box insures more safety against accidents. With the 
 development of the crown it becomes necessary to trim it, so as to carry the 
 top above reach. Trees are not benefited by being used for hitching-posts, or 
 climbing poles, or other frolic. 
 
;56 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 NEW YORK STATE PROGRAM, 1889. 
 
 Summarizing the elements of success in tree planting, they are : 
 
 1. Trees suitable to soil and surrounding conditions ; 
 
 2. A well-developed root-system, kept in living condition; 
 
 3. Wide holes and mellow soil; 
 
 4. Firm packing of soil around the roots. 
 
 Choice of kinds. — Leaving out conifers — which require more careful handling 
 and better situations than are as a rule to be had on occasions like that in view 
 — there are over one hundred indigenous species to choose from for planting on 
 the Atlantic side ; of these thirty to forty might deserve attention for Arbor Day 
 tree planting, according to climate^ soil, and situation, or object. It is best to 
 limit the choice for this occasion to trees of recognized merit native to your 
 locality ; opportunities will vary the choice. It is only possible here to name the 
 following selections, which admit of a wide application in the Atlantic States : 
 
 Three trees to be planted where nothing else will grow ; easily 
 transplanted, growing rapidly, but shortlived, liable to injuries, root- sprouting,, 
 soon scraggy looking unless specially attended : 
 
 Silver Maple. Carolina Poplar. Box Elder. 
 
 (Acer dasycarpum.) (Poplus monlifera). (Negundo aceroides.) 
 
 Four trees, among the best for street and lawn : 
 Sugar Maple. Red Maple. . Linden. Elm. 
 
 (Acer saccharinum.) (Acer rubrum.) (Tilia Americana.) (Ulmus Americana.) 
 
 Five trees desirable for lawn and yard : 
 
 Tulip Tree. Red Oak. Willow Oak. 
 
 (Liriodendron tulipifera.) (Quercus rubra.) (Quercus phellos.) 
 
 Black Cherry. Sweet Gum. 
 
 (Prunus serotina.) (Liquidambar styraciflua.) 
 
 Six trees suitable for special positions : 
 
 Sycamore. Black Birch. Ash. 
 
 (Platanus occidentalis.) (Betula lenta.) (Fraxinus Americana.) 
 
 Black Walnut. Chestnut. Beech. 
 
 (Juglans nigra.) (Castanea vesca.) (Fagus ferruginea.) 
 
 Two foreigners of note: 
 Horse Chestnut. (Aesculus Hippocastanum) and Paulownia (Paulownia impe- 
 rialis.) 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 357 
 
 SPECIMEN PROGRAMS. 
 
 Port Henry, N. Y. 
 
 .Arranged by Professor W. H Benedict, now of the public schools of Elmira, N. V., for Arbor Day, 
 
 May 3, 1889. 
 
 Selections marked thus * are eiven in this volume. 
 
 PROGRAM. 
 
 1. Chorus.—*" Hymn in Praise of the Natural World." High School. 
 
 The singing was accompanied by an organ and two violins. 
 
 2. Reading of letters from distinguished persons, by members of the High School. 
 
 From Hon. J. Sterling Morton, ex-Governor of Nebraska, and the author of Arbor 
 Day. 
 
 Arbor Lodge, Nebraska City, Neb., April 20, 1S89. 
 Dear Sir — All other anniversaries refer to the past and its dead. Arbor Day alone 
 deals with the present and the future. It stretches its sheltering shades over the unborn 
 millions of coming generations and in the voices of the leafy woods pronounces benedic- 
 tions upon posterity. Faithfully yours, 
 
 J. Sterling Morton. 
 
 From George William Curtis, Yice-Chancellor of the University of the State of New 
 York . 
 
 West New Brighton, Staten Island, April 17, 1SS9. 
 
 Dear Sir — I am very glad that you propose fitting observance of Arbor Da)', which I 
 think may be easily made one of the most interesting of our holidays. There is proba- 
 bly not one of the pupils in your school who has not a fondness for pet animals, for 
 horses, dogs, cats, squirrels, rabbits, and the charm lies largely in its life and its depend- 
 ence upon its master. Arbor Day will enlarge this friendly relation, so as to include 
 trees, and by and by, perhaps, shrubs and flowering plants. They too are living, and for 
 their proper growth and development they will depend largely upon the care and intelli- 
 gence of the boys and girls who are interested in them. 
 
 This interest will be fostered as in the case of the pet animals by the individual relation 
 between the trees and those who plant them. It will be stimulated by the names to be 
 given to the trees, and by the desire to honor distinguished men and women by carefully 
 tending the trees that bear their names. All this will gradually lead inevitably to special 
 knowledge of the structure, character, growth, and uses of trees, to enjoyment of the 
 allusions to them in literature, and their association with historical events, like the Char- 
 ter Oak in Hartford and Sir Philip Sidney's oak at Penshurst, which was planted at his 
 birth and which Ben. Johnson and Edmund Waller commemorated, and the Abbot's oak, 
 and William the Conqueror's oak at Windsor Park. 
 
 With this will come a keener interest in the significance of trees and plants in national 
 usages, and in popular belief and proverbs, " There's rosemary, that's remembrance." To 
 be ciad in mourning was to wear the Willow. Old Fuller, the English worthy, calls the 
 willow a sad tree, and the forsaken lover sang " all around my hat I wear a green willow." 
 The Jews in captivity hung their harps upon the willows, and to describe a melancholy 
 landscape Sir Walter Scott in the Lay of the Last Minstrel sings of " along the wild and 
 -willowed shore." It was upon the Beech tree that lovers, long before America was dis- 
 covered, carved the names of their sweethearts, and it was upon the tree of which Amiens 
 sung that Shakespeare's Orlando hung his verses to Rosalind. It was the trees of Arden- 
 nes that waved their leaves over the soldiers marching to Waterloo, "Grieving, if aught 
 inanimate e'er grieves over the unreturning brave." Thus in every way trees are inwrought; 
 with literature as with art. 
 
 " The groves were God's first temples," and Gothic architecture reproduces the long 
 drawn aisles and fretted vault of the pine forest. 
 
 As the student advances into Latin and Greek, he will find trees springing up all around 
 him in the form of allusions in the chaplets, wreaths and crowns that were woven from 
 their leaves, although they do not appear in the classic poets as figures of beauty in the 
 
358 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. —Continued. 
 
 landscape. The conscious enjoyment of natural beauty is a modern sentiment, but it is 
 from the association of Greek and Roman usage that " bays " and " laurels" derive their 
 modern significance. Apollo's tree, the bay, furnished the wreaths for Roman victors, at 
 their triumphs. The Greeks crowned with laurel the victors in the Pythian games and 
 with a wreath of wild olives the Olympic victors. 
 
 All such facts, familiar to school boys, will acquire a kind of interest which they never 
 had before when those boys establish personal relations with trees and shrubs by planting 
 them and giving them names. When they watch to see how Bryant and Longfellow are 
 growing; whether Abraham Lincoln wants water, or Benjamin Franklin is drying up 
 whether Asa Gray puts out his leaves as early as last year, and whether Maria Mitchell 
 and Abigail Adams and Dorothea Dix hold in their ample and embowering arms as many 
 singing birds, as usual, they will discover that a tree may be as interesting as the squirrel 
 that skims along its trunk, or the thrush that calls from its leafy covert like a muezzin 
 from a minaret. 
 
 It is pleasant to remember on Arbor Day that Bryant, our oldest American poet and 
 the father of our American literature, is especially the poet of trees. 
 
 He grew up among the solitary hills of Western Massachusetts when the woods were 
 his nursery and the trees his earliest comrades. The solemnity of the forest breathes- 
 through all his verse, and he had always, even in the city, a grave rustic air as of a man 
 who heard the bubbling brooks and to whom the trees told their secrets. His poems will 
 be so naturally read on Arbor Day that it will keep his memory green, and the poet of the 
 trees will become the familiar friend of American boys and girls who, by tender nurture 
 of the trees, will have learned to say with him : 
 
 " Nay, doubt we not that under the rough rind. 
 In the green veins of their fair growth of earth, 
 There dwells a nature that receives delight 
 From all t&e gentle processes of life, 
 And shrinks from loss of being." 
 
 Bryant liked to think of himself as associated with trees, and modestly forecasts his 
 name blended with trees and the fruit so precious to all us American girls and boys, or 
 men or women. 
 
 "Who planted this old apple tree? 
 The children of that distant day. 
 Thus to some aged man shall say ; 
 And gazing on its mossy stem, 
 The gray-haired man shall answer them, 
 
 A poet of the land was he. 
 Born in the rude but good old times, 
 'Tis said he made some quaint old rhymes. 
 On planting the apple tree." 
 
 With ever}' good wish for the boys and girls who will plant the trees, and for the trees 
 which they will plant, I am Very truly yours, 
 
 George William Curtis. 
 
 From Hon. David Murray, ex-Secretary of Board of Regents of the University of 
 the State of New York. 
 
 Regents' Office, Albany, N. Y., April 10, 1SS9. 
 
 My Dear Sir — I am pleased to hear that you are preparing to celebrate Arbor Day 
 in some appropriate way. Nothing can be more fitting than for the scholars In our 
 schools to unite in exercises for the planting and protection of trees. The time has come 
 for us to concern ourselves with the preservation of our forests and the multiplication of 
 the trees, vines and shrubs which do so much to make the earth which we inhabit beau- 
 tiful and salubrious. 
 
 I lived many years in Japan, which is one of the most lovely countries on the face of 
 the earth. Its beauty is largely due to the noble trees which everywhere line the roads 
 and envelop its surface. Its climate is warm and moist and therefore well adapted to- 
 the growth of luxuriant vegetation. But there can be no question that in a great measure 
 the thriving and kept groves and avenues of trees owe their continued existence to the 
 fostering care of the government. During a great part of the two hundred and fifty years 
 of the Shogun's government, it was a well-understood and definite regulation that, when- 
 ever a tree was cut down for any purpose, two others should be planted to take its place. 
 The effect of such a regulation is now apparent. In the great cities of Tokio, Kiots and 
 Osaka, ever}' available space is filled with noble trees. Along the great government 
 roads, which lead through the islands, tall and graceful cedars in double rows line the 
 pathway and give both a cool shade and graceful vistas. I have driven through fifty miles 
 of such an avenue in going from Tokio to the burial place of the Shoguns of Nikko. 
 
 What old and picturesque countries have been able to do, it now devolves on us to 
 take timelv measures to do. The forests of our country, which no long time ago were so 
 abundant that they covered every fertile road, have been cut down, until many portions 
 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 359 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y.— Continued. 
 
 of the country are denuded. The streams which once flowed through oozy beds and 
 gathered contributions from every foot of progress now have dwindled to little rivulets, 
 which only show their strength when rain-storms fill their channels. 
 
 Let us create a sentiment and enthusiasm in reference to restoring and preserving in 
 some reasonable degree the forests which the ignorance or the cupidity of preceding gen- 
 erations have destroyed. 
 
 That you are disposed to do your share under the law which the Legislature of this 
 State passed, is to me a great source of gratification. That you may be abundantly suc- 
 cessful, and that the scholars under your charge may find a true and noble satisfaction in 
 providing for their own pleasure, and the pleasure of the generations to follow them, is 
 the sincere wish of Yours sincerely, 
 
 David Murray. 
 
 From Hon. B. G. Northrop, Clinton, Ct., to whom we are indebted for much of the in- 
 terest that is being taken in Arbor Day and tree culture throughout the country. 
 
 Clinton, Ct., April 25, 1889. 
 
 Dear Sir— - Arbor Day for economic tree-planting was started seventeen years ago in 
 Nebraska, by ex-Governor J. Sterling Morton, whose efforts were seconded by the " State 
 Board of Agriculture" and " Board of Horticulture," liberal prizes being offered to the 
 counties that should do the most in this line, So great enthusiasm was awakened that, 
 according to the official reports, more than 12,000,000 trees were planted on the first State 
 Arbor, Day. The interest then awakened has continued and extended so that now there 
 are over 605,000,000 trees growing in Nebraska which were planted by human hands. 
 
 The settler there who does not plant trees on his " section " is now the exception. The 
 Nebraskans now glory in the old name, "The Great American Desert," which for three 
 hundred miles west of the Missouri river has been made habitable and hospitable by tree- 
 planting and cultivation here. 
 
 Kansas soon followed the example of Nebraska, and now rejoices in the growth and 
 influence of millions of planted trees. Two other Western States soon joined in this good 
 work. 
 
 At the outset, "Arbor Day" in schools was not thought of, economic tree-planting 
 being the only aim. The progress of this work has been most gratifying. Less than 
 seven years ago a resolution in favor of observing Arbor Day in schools in every State, 
 which I offered in the American Forestry Congress, was unanimously adopted and a com- 
 mittee appointed to push that work. As their chairman, I have presented the subject 
 personally, or by letter, to the Governors of all our States and Territories, and now thirty- 
 four States are observing " Arbor Day." 
 
 This movement has spread across the continent, and individuals and railway companies 
 as well as States have shared in the work. Adolph Sutro, the millionaire of San Fran- 
 cisco, gave 60,000 small trees to the school children of that city to plant in the parks and 
 around the homes. 
 
 California is teaching the East a much needed lesson in favor of planting very young 
 trees. The experience on the prairies and especially in the Trans-Missouri river States 
 is decisive on this subject. The many million trees now growing in Nebraska, Kansas, 
 and other Western States, as well as in California, were planted when mere saplings, they 
 are more easily dug up with all their capillary roots and more sure to grow. They cost 
 less and are more cheaply transplanted. In ten years, these saplings — yearlings or " two- 
 year-olds" will overtake those ten or more years old when planted, and will be always 
 healthier and handsomer. I have tested this matter by giving some 11,000 small trees to 
 the citizens of Clinton, Ct., mostly to the school children, during the last seven years. 
 Few of these trees were over three years from the seed. The result has been most grati- 
 fying both in their beauty and rapidity of growth. 
 
 One of the pleasant things in Arbor Day observance is the hearty co-operation often 
 shown by influential and wealth}' citizens. Governor Perry and State School Superin- 
 tendent Russell, of Florida, enlisted enthusiastically in the work of their first Arbor Day, 
 and the results were a most grateful surprise to them. So general was the interest that 
 Governor Perry, in an official letter, congratulated the pupils and people of the State on 
 their grand response to his proclamation. 
 
 The observance of Vermont's first Arbor Day was general and enthusiastic. In the 
 town of Rutland over 3.500 trees were set out, 2,000 of them in the new village of Proctor, 
 named from ex-Governor Proctor, now Secretary of War, who exerted himself success- 
 fully to make the day a jubilee for all. 
 
 New York, if the last of the Northern States to pass an Arbor Day law, is foremost in 
 the thorough and liberal provisions of this act, making it the duty of the school authori- 
 ties throughout the State to provide such exercises on Arbor Day as shall tend to encour- 
 age scholars in the planting, protection and preservation of trees and shrubs, and gives 
 
>6o ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 Specimen Programs.-Port Henry, N. If.— Continued. 
 
 the State Superintendent authority to prescribe the exercises and print and send to every 
 school in the State full circulars of instruction. State Superintendent Draper is working 
 up this subject with great efficiency. 
 
 In a lecture trip, quite across the State, I find such interest and enthusiasm in this work 
 among teachers and school superintendents as warrant the expectation that New York's 
 first Arbor Day will witness the planting of more trees, shrubs and vines in school 
 grounds and approaches around the homes, and by the road sides, than were ever started 
 before on any one day in this State, however much has already been done. 
 
 In large cities, there may seem to be little room for tree-planting and no call for a holi- 
 day for this work, but even then fit talks, or the memorizing of suitable selections such 
 as Superintendent Draper recommends will be useful, and there are few homes where 
 children cannot find some place for shrubs, vines or flowers, if not for trees. 
 
 Though the course of study is already over-crowded, trees and tree-planting form a fit 
 subject for oral lessons, now common in all our best schools. Such talks will lead youth 
 to observe and admire our noble trees, and to realize that the)' are the grandest products 
 of nature. 
 
 Our schools can render new service to the State, as well as to the pupils by leading them 
 to observe the habits of trees and appreciate their value and beauty, thus making them 
 practical arborists, as is contemplated in the New York Arbor Day Law. Superintendent 
 Draper's suggestions, that a vote shall be taken in all the schools to ascertain which is 
 their choice for " State Tree," and compositions by scholars each on " My Favorite Tree," 
 and of planting " Memorial Trees," and the dedication of one tree in every district to 
 Washington, will tend to deepen and extend the sentiment of trees, and thus realize the 
 motto of Dr. Holmes and " Make Trees Monuments of History and Character." 
 
 Cordially yours, 
 
 B. G. Northrop. 
 
 From Hon. B. E. Fernow, Chief of Forestry Division, United States Department of 
 Agriculture. 
 
 Washington, D. C, April 4, 1SS9. 
 
 Dear Sir — Your letter giving me an account of your successful Arbor Day exercises 
 of last year and requesting some words of encouragement as a stimulus to the exertions 
 of your pupils for the present season, Galls to mind the well-known proverb: "Tall Oaks 
 From Little Acorns Grow." There is a deep meaning in these words, especially in con- 
 nection with Arbor Day. 
 
 Has it occurred to you, that with the inauguration of Arbor Day in almost all the 
 States — now thirty at least — we inaugurate an era of reform ? Have your boys and girls 
 understood that, in planting the shade and lawn trees with festive celebration, the)- do 
 only start a new vegetable growth, deriving pleasure from the work and its progress from 
 vear to year, but they also plant the seed of a new era in the economy of our nation, that 
 they foreshadow a reform in our methods of utilizing the bountiful resources of our 
 country ? 
 
 What is the object of Arbor Day ? To plant shade trees and have a good time ? Oh no! 
 Although the setting of a tree is useful and pleasurable, although the festivities attending 
 it are pleasurable and useful in impressing the mind with -the memory of the occasion, 
 the deeper object of Arbor Day is to so imbue the coming generation with a love of tree 
 growth and tree planting, that out of a nation of wood-choppers there may arise a nation 
 of tree-planters and foresters. 
 
 When first our forefathers came to this country, it was a dense forest, and to make 
 fields and agriculture it was necessary to get rid of the forest at any cost. This has pro- 
 duced in our nation a hatred against trees, and we have cut away and slashed and burnt, 
 until now it becomes necessary to cry a halt and reverse our actions. With the opening 
 up and settlement of the treeless prairies and plains, the settlers i.n that new country have 
 learned to appreciate the usefulness of trees, and it is to one of those States — Nebraska — 
 that Arbor Day took its origin, and now millions of trees are planted there on that day. 
 
 With clearing in the Eastern States it became apparent, that we were getting short of 
 useful timber, and also that the favorable influence which the forests exert on climate and 
 on the even water-flow of our streams, was interfered with. And so Arbor Daj' became 
 established in the Eastern States, especially in the schools. 
 
 What more encouragement to go on with this work need there be for a patriotic Ameri- 
 can boy, than the thought that by his action he is helping to shape the development of his 
 people and his country in the right direction ? And when he doubts whether this mite of 
 his can really have any effect upon the great nation, let him recall the proverb, " Tall oaks 
 from little acorns grow," and plant his acorn or his tree in confidence of a desirable result. 
 
 With best wishes for your good work, I am Truly yours ; 
 
 B. E. Fernow. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 36l 
 
 Specimen Programs. - Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 
 3. SONG.—* "Arbor Day March." Ten Pupils from 2nd Primary Department. 
 
 These pupils each had a flag about seventeen inches long. They sang the first stanza and 
 chorus as they marched on the stage from an adjoining room. During the singing of the 
 first two lines of the chorus the}' waved their flags in unison with their singing. During 
 the rest of the singing and marching they kept the flags at right shoulder shift. After 
 reciting the following selection, they sang the second stanza, and marched off the stage 
 as they were singing the chorus. 
 
 CONCERT RECITATION BY THE SAME TEN PUPILS r "OUR ARBOR DAY IX MAY." 
 
 All the buds and bees are singing ; Look, dear children, look ! the meadows, 
 
 Ali the lily bells are ringing; When the sunshine chases shadows 
 
 All the brooks run full of laughter, Are alive with fairy faces, 
 
 And the wind comes whispering after. Peeping from their grassy places 
 
 What is this they. sing and say ? What is this the flowers say ? 
 "It is May ! " It is May ! 
 
 It is our Arbor Day ! It is our Arbor Day i 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah for our Arbor Day !" Hurrah! hurrah for our Arbor Day !" 
 
 See ! the fair blue sky is brighter, 
 And our hearts with hope are lighter; 
 All the bells of joy are ringing ; 
 All are grateful voices singing ; 
 All the storms have passed away ; 
 " It is May ! 
 
 It is our Arbor Day ! 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah for our Arbor Day ! " 
 
 When the children recited the last line of each stanza, they waved their flags in an ap- 
 propriate manner. In this exercise the children marched as they sang, without any organ 
 accompaniment. In the following exercises the pupils marched to the music of the organ. 
 
 4. THE PLEA OF THE TREES. Ten Pupils of 1st Primary Department. 
 
 Concert Recitation : 
 
 And now in the forest the woodman doth stand, Fourth Pupil. THE OAK. 
 
 His eye marks the victims to fall by his hand. T am the oak the ki of the t 
 
 And a 1 the trees shiver and tremble tor tear. Calmly I rise, and spread bv slow degrees ; 
 
 Hark! they plead for their lives ! will the wood- Three centuries I grow ; and three I sfay 
 
 cutter hear . Supreme in state ; and in three more decav. 
 
 First Pupil. THE BEECH. 
 
 Oh, leave this barren spot to me ! Fifth Pupil. THE ELM. 
 
 Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree ! Each morning when thy waking eyes first see, 
 
 Thrice twenty summers I have seen Through the wreathed lattice, golden day appear. 
 
 The sky grow bright, the forest green ; Here sits the robin, on the old elm tree. 
 
 And many a wintry wind have stood And with such stirring music tills the ear, 
 
 In blootnless, fruitless solitude, Thou mightst forget that life had pain 01 fear, 
 
 Since childhood in my pleasant bower And feel again as thou wast wont to do [new. 
 
 First spent its sweet and sportive hour. When hope was young and joy and life itself were 
 
 And on my trunk's surviving frame 
 
 Carved many a long forgotten name. Sixth Pupil. THE HEMLOCK. 
 
 As love's own altar honors me. I am the hemlock. 
 
 Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree. T shake the snow on the ground bdoWi 
 
 Second Pupil. THE MAPLE. , ™ er . e ' h ? flow f. rs safely sleep; 
 
 * And all night long, though winds blow strong. 
 
 I am the maple. A care f u l watch I keep. 
 
 O come this wav 
 
 On a hot July day Seventh Pupil. THE WILLOW. 
 If my worth you would know ; T _ „ ,, .,, ._, 
 
 fcsdlS L^inty^eezymoan 
 
 WbXSSSfiiS&hUm. T'hroug^v^-s^r whispering low 
 
 Third Pupil. THE HICKORY. Faint, sweet sounds of long ago. 
 
 When the autumn comes its round. Many a mournful tale of old 
 
 Rich, sweet walnuts will.be found Heartsick man to me has told ; 
 
 Covering thicklv ail the ground Gathering from my golden bough 
 
 Where my boughs are spread. Leaves to cool his burning brow. 
 
 Ask the boys that visit me, Many a swan like song to me 
 
 Full of happiness and glee. Hath been chanted mournfully ; 
 
 If they'd mourn the hickory tree. Many a lute its last lament 
 
 Were it felledand dead. Down my moonlight stream hath sent. 
 
362 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. V. — Continued. 
 
 Concert Recitation : 
 
 Woodman, spare each tree ! 
 
 Harm not a single bough ! 
 In youth they sheltered thee, 
 
 You should protect them now. 
 
 These old familiar trees 
 
 Whose glory and renown 
 Are spread o'er lands and seas — 
 
 And wouldst thou hack them down ? 
 
 Woodman, stay thy hand 
 
 Cut not their earth-bound ties ; 
 O spare these trees so grand, 
 
 Now towering to the skies. 
 
 Each pupil had a bough of the tree which he or she represented, and made an appro- 
 priate gesture when speaking of himself or herself. 
 
 5. A BOUQUET OF FLOWERS. Ten Pupils of 2nd Intermediate Department. 
 
 First Pupil. THE ARBUTUS. 
 
 If Spring has Maids of Honor — 
 
 And why should not the Spring, 
 With all her dainty service, 
 
 Have thought of some such thins 
 
 If Spring has Maids of Honor — 
 Arbutus leads the train; 
 
 A lovelier, a fairer, 
 
 The Spring would seek in vain. 
 
 Second Pupil. THE ROSE. 
 
 I am the blushing rose, 
 
 Bending with my fulness, 
 'Midst my close-capped sister buds, 
 
 Warming the green coolness 
 
 Hold me very lightly 
 
 See from what a slender 
 Stalk I bower in heavy blooms. 
 
 And roundness rich and tender. 
 
 Third Pupil. THE VIOLET. 
 I am the violet, and I dwell 
 Under the shade of the sweet Heathbell, 
 Earl}', at dawning, it rings, and it rings, 
 To waken me, ere the Redbreast sings. 
 I am happy, so happy, the live-long day ; 
 For I love in my lowly home to stay; 
 And I know that the sunny days of Spring 
 The love of the children to me will bring. 
 
 Fourth Pupil. THE BUTTERCUP. 
 I am the Buttercup, shining like gold; 
 With a smile for the young, and a smile for the old, 
 I grow in the sunshine, and grow in the shade; 
 I'm the cheeriest flower that ever was made. 
 When the little ones find me they dance with de- 
 light, 
 As they fill up their aprons with Buttercups bright 
 "Now see who loves butter ! " they shouting begin 
 As they hold me up under each lily-white chin. 
 
 Fifth Pupil. THE LILY. 
 
 I am the lily fair, 
 The flower of virgin light ; 
 Nature held me forth and said, 
 " Lo ! my thought of white."' 
 
 Ever since then, angels 
 
 Hold me in their hands; 
 
 You may see them when they take 
 
 In pictures their sweet stands. 
 
 Like the garden's angel 
 
 Also do I seem ; 
 
 And not the less for being crowned 
 
 With a golden dream. 
 
 Sixth Pupil. THE DANDELION. 
 
 I am the common Dandelion, that grow'th beside 
 
 the way, 
 Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold ; 
 First pledge of blithesome May, 
 Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold, 
 High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they 
 An Eldorado in the grass have found, 
 AVhich not the rich earth's ample round 
 May match in wealth. 
 
 Seventh Pupil. THE DAISY. 
 
 I am the bright Daisy, whose home is everywhere 
 
 A pilgrim bold in nature's care, 
 
 And all the long year through the heir of joy and 
 
 sorrow. 
 Methinks that there abides in me 
 Some concord with humanity, 
 Given to no other flower I see 
 
 The forest through. 
 
 Glittering from afar, 
 
 I seem a pretty star ; 
 Not quite so fair as many are 
 
 In heaven above me ! 
 Yet like a star, with glittering crest, 
 Self-posed in air I seem to rest. 
 
 Concert Recitation : Chorus of Flowers. 
 
 We are the sweet flowers, Oh! true things are fables, 
 
 Born of sunny showers, Fit for sagest tables, 
 
 Think, whene'er you see us, what our beauty saith; And the flowers are true things — yet no fables they. 
 
 Utterance, mute and bright, 
 
 Of some unknown delight. 
 We till the air with pleasure, by our simple breath ; 
 
 All who see us love us — 
 
 We befit all places ; 
 Unto sorrow we give smiles and unto graces, races, 
 
 Murk our ways, how noiseless 
 
 All, and sweetly voiceless 
 Though the March winds pipe to make our passage 
 clear ; 
 
 Not a whisper tells 
 
 Where our small seed dwells, 
 Nor is known the moment green when our tips 
 appear. 
 
 We thread the earth in silence, 
 
 In silence build our bowers, — 
 And leaf by leaf in silence show, till we laugh a-top 
 sweet flowers. 
 
 Fables were not more 
 
 Bright, nor loved of yore ; 
 Yet they grew not, like the flowers, by every old 
 pathway, 
 
 Grossest hand can test us, 
 
 Fools may prize us never, [ever. 
 
 Yet we rise, and rise, and rise — marvels sweet for- 
 
 Who shall say that flowers 
 
 Dress not heaven's own bowers ? 
 Who its love, without us, can fancy — or sweet floor ? 
 
 Who shall ever dare 
 
 To say we sprang not there, 
 And came not down, that Love might bring one piece 
 of heaven the more ? 
 
 O pray believe that angels 
 
 From these blue dominions [pinions. 
 
 Bought usin their white laps down, 'twixt their golden 
 
 Each pupil had a bunch of flowers pinned on him or her to indicate what he or she 
 represented. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 1^3 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. IT. — Continued. 
 
 6. CHORUS. * " Forest Song."— By W. H. Venable. High School. 
 
 Accompanied as before. 
 This was sung to the air, " A Life on the Ocean Wave." 
 
 7. * " THE MARRIAGE OF THE FLOWERS." Ten Pupils from 1st Interme- 
 
 diate Department. 
 
 Each pupil reciting two stanzas and decked with some flower represented. 
 
 8. LESSONS FROM NATURE ABOUT TREES. Ten Pupils from 2d Grammar 
 
 Department. 
 
 First Pupil : 
 
 We will listen to some facts about a seed. 
 
 Second Pupil : 
 
 A seed is a young plant and is packed ready for transportation. It has a tin)' stem,, 
 some seed leaves, and a terminal bud. The mother tree, before casting off her progeny 
 into the world, did not fail to give it a little outfit in the form of starch for food stored 
 up in or surrounding the thick seed leaves. As the young chicks while in the shell are 
 nourished by the yolk of the egg, so the voung Oak or Maple subsists on the starch 
 stored up before ripening. 
 
 First Pupil : 
 
 We would like to hear something about Nature's tree-planters, the squirrels. 
 
 Third Pupil: 
 
 The squirrels eat many nuts, but carry a portion to some distance in every direction, 
 where they plant one or two in a place. It may be the thought of the squirrel to return 
 at some future time of need, but his bump of locality is not well developed, or he has laid 
 up more than he needed. At all events some of the nuts are allowed to remain where he 
 planted them. In this way he is a benefit to the trees, and pays for the nuts he eats. He 
 has not lived in vain, for he is a tree-planter and believes in arboriculture. His Arbor 
 Days come in autumn, and he needs no Governor's message to stimulate him to work. 
 
 First Pupil: 
 
 Describe the mechanism of a tree. 
 
 Fourth Pupil : 
 
 A tree receives its nourishment from the roots. These correspond to the mouth in the 
 human frame. The nourishment taken in by the roots, or mouths, passes to the lungs of 
 the tree, and then, by contact with the air, is rendered fit to supply material to the tree. 
 The tree's lungs are the leaves. This operation is effected by the passage upward from 
 the soil, through the trunk, the branches, and every twig of the tree to the leaves, of a 
 large quantity of water, containing the nutriment for the tree. Arrived at the leaves, 
 contact with the air causes a large amount of water to be given off, and the nutriment 
 with certain portions of the air are carried back and deposited in leaf, bark and root, 
 where the digestive process is carried still further. 
 
 First Pupil : 
 
 When do our trees make their growth, and how do they get read)' for the next year? 
 
 Fifth Pupil: 
 
 Most of our trees put forth their new growth during a few weeks in spring or early- 
 summer. Do you wonder what they are doing during the rest of the warm weather? 
 Thev are by no means idle. They may be perfecting flowers and seeds, but all of them 
 are getting ready for the next winter and spring. Through the influence of light and 
 heat, the green leaves are forming starch, which is transported and stored in the pith, 
 young wood and bark. The young leaves and stems are started and arranged, packed in 
 cotton, covered by scales and in some cases the scales are protected by pitch or varnish. 
 
 First Pupil : 
 
 Describe the tree as a community. 
 
 Sixth Pupil: 
 
 A tree is a composite being, a kind of community by itself. The leaves and limbs are 
 all the time striving with each other to see which shall have the most room and the most sun- 
 shine. Each strives for all it can get. While some perish in the attempt, or meet with 
 only very indifferent success, the strongest of the strongest buds survive. Each leaf helps to 
 
364 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y". — Continued. 
 
 sustain the limb which carries it, and each limb furnishes some nourishment to the common 
 trunk for the common welfare. The tax is always adjusted according to the ability of 
 each to contribute. As the limbs of a tree are striving for the mastery, so each bush and 
 tree in grove or forest is striving with others for the mastery. The weakest succumb to 
 the strongest ; some perish early, some lead a feeble existence for many years, while even 
 the strongest are more or less injured. With plenty of room, the trunk will be short, the 
 branches many and wide-spread ; where crowded, the lower limbs perish for want of light. 
 Dead limbs fall to the ground to protect and enrich it for nourishing the surviving limbs 
 and the trunk. The scars heal over, more limbs perish as new ones creep upward, and 
 thus we find tall, clean trunks in a dense forest. 
 
 First Pupil : 
 
 How is moisture retained by forests ? 
 
 Seventh Pupil • 
 
 The bed of the forest is a widely spread surface, piled thick with leaves, twigs, pieces 
 of fallen branches, and remnants of decayed logs, covering another layer of the same sub- 
 stances in a state of partial decomposition, overlying yet another strata completely decom- 
 posed, — altogether forming a deep pot or hollow framework, penetrated with myriads of 
 pipes, tubes, and aqueducts, and interspersed with millions of miniature logs, blocking 
 and holding in position the flow of water, until the humus below fully absorbs it. The 
 large and perpendicular tap-roots which many trees possess, pass deep into the solid clay 
 strata, and send through the earth a slow and steady supply of water, which, traveling 
 away from the forests and under the cultivated fields, supply the great lower bed of moist- 
 ure, that, continually rising, fertilizes the upper soil. Phipps. 
 
 Fhst Pupil : 
 
 What effect has the cutting of forests on the water supply? 
 Eighth Pupil: 
 
 The protection afforded by the forest against the escape of moisture from its soil by 
 •superficial overflow and evaporation insures the permanence and regularity of natural 
 springs. To destroy the forest of a mountain slope is to devote the height to barrenness, 
 the valley to flood, and both to parching drought. The spring and autumn rain-fall, in- 
 stead of being stored up in Nature's reservoirs, sweeps down through the valleys in sud- 
 den and violent floods, carrying destruction with it, to be followed a little later by long 
 droughts, and very low water. 
 
 Concert Recitation : 
 
 I love thee in the Spring, In the hot Summer time. 
 
 Earth-crowned forest ! when amid the shades AVith deep delight, the somber aisles I roam. 
 
 The gentle South first waves her odorous wing, Or, soothed by some cool brook's melodious chime 
 
 And joy fills all the glades. Rest on thy verdant loam. 
 
 But O, when Autumn's hand 
 Hath marked thy beauteous foliage for the grave, 
 How doth thy splendor, as entranced I stand, 
 
 My willing heart enslave. 
 
 The pupils were decked appropriately. The one who recited about the seed had a little 
 bunch of wheat in the head pinned on. Others had branches of trees and flowers. The 
 leader stepped out in front of the pupils and directed the question to the one who was to 
 answer, and then took her place in the ranks. The answers followed. 
 
 9. * " THE PLANTING OF THE APPLE TREE." Ten Pupils from 1st Gram- 
 mar Department. 
 
 Concert Recitation : first and last verses ; other verses recited by different pupils. 
 
 It was originally planned to have these pupils carry a branch of the apple tree in bloom, 
 but it was too early, and we did not succeed in forcing nature. In addition, they were to 
 have pinned on them a bunch of apple blossoms. As it was, we had them modestly 
 decked with as appropriate flowers as we could secure. Modesty characterized all the 
 decorations. We had enough to make the pupils look fine, and not a superfluity. 
 
 10. SONG.—* " SWINGING 'NEATH THE OLD APPLE TREE." The same 
 Ten Pupils and High School. 
 
 First stanza repeated and the chorus repeated softly, at the close. The singing as with 
 the other songs was accompanied by organ and two violins. The ten Grammar School 
 pupils sang the separate stanzas, and the High School came in with them on the chorus. 
 The second "swinging" each time was not sung but simply played by the organ and 
 violins. The effect was fine. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 to 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. IT. — Continued. 
 DEDICATION EXERCISES. 
 
 1. CHORUS.— " Plant the Trees, Children." Air: " Ring the Bell, Watchman." 
 A chorus of over four hundred voices. 
 
 Round the green play-ground the dear children When you are old you may bask in the shade 
 
 stand. Which by the growth of this planting is made. 
 
 Joy in their faces and shovel in hand, Your children's children, so Heaven decrees. 
 
 Waiting a word to be borne on the breeze— Will rejoice you heard the summons : " Plant, plant 
 
 Ready for the welcome mandate: " Plant, plant the the trees." 
 trees." 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Plant the trees, children, plant, yes plant, g} an t trees °\ knowledge vvhere ignorance reigns; 
 
 Plant for a joy that the future will grant, P la , nt tr , e es of virtue on sin s arid plains ; 
 
 New York again sends her word on the breeze- M , ake . of yourselves trees of righteousness; these 
 
 Joyfully obey the summons : " Plant, plant the Plantings fill the world with beauty ; Plant, plant 
 trees." ttle trees - 
 
 When having passed to the happier land, 
 
 Fast by the " Tree of Life " joyful you stand, 
 
 Gladly you'll learn how the Master decrees 
 
 Earthly planting blooms in glory ; " Plant, plant the trees." 
 
 2. Reading Letters and Short Sketches of the Lives of those to whom Trees were 
 
 Dedicated. Pupils of the High School. 
 
 Trees were dedicated to George Washington, Francis Parkman, Joel T. Headley, 
 Benson J. Lossing, Will Carleton and Donald G. Mitchell. 
 
 [From Francis Parkman, American Historian.] 
 
 Boston, April 26, 1889 
 
 Dear Sir — I am much obliged to the pupils of the schools under your direction for 
 their intention to dedicate a tree to me on Arbor Da}'. I could wish for no more pleasant 
 form of commemoration, for a tree is the most charming of monuments. 
 
 I hope your Arbor Day will be a great success. We once had on this continent such a 
 superfluity of trees that our forefathers almost learned to regard them as enemies rather 
 than as friends. If the present generation does not quickly learn to take a different view, 
 the country will have cause to rue it. If the State and National governments do not pre- 
 serve with care the forests about the sources of our great streams, including your admir- 
 able Adirondack country, the regions watered by them will be the victims of alternate 
 floods and droughts. It is not only the beauty of the landscape that will suffer, but many 
 industrial interests will be sorely injured, and the more this is impressed on the minds of 
 the rising generation, the better it will be for them and their successors. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Francis Parkman. 
 
 [From Joel Tyler Headley, an American Historian.] 
 
 Newburgh, N. Y., April 26, 1889. 
 
 Dear Sir — I am glad to see that the Superintendent of Public Schools in Port Henry 
 takes such a warm interest in Arbor Day. I am sure he will infuse the same enthusiasm 
 into the scholars and make the first Arbor Day in New York a grand success, and one 
 long to be remembered. 
 
 The conception of an Arbor Day was a happy inspiration in Mr. Morton, and I have, 
 ever since its first establishment, taken a deep interest in its first observance. 
 
 The love of trees in itself is elevating, but when they become links between scholars 
 and authors, men distinguished for the good they have done, they awaken pleasant asso- 
 ciations and establish pleasant memories that cannot fail to help form character. Arbor 
 Day recognizes the fact too often overlooked, that education does not consist merely in 
 imparting knowledge, but in cultivating the taste, in making good impressions on the 
 heart, and arousing the best and purest feelings, and in giving sympathies a right direc- 
 tion — in short, in developing the whole character harmoniously. 
 
 It is pleasant to know that there are children in Port Henry who will make a tree a link 
 between me and them, and cause them to think of me when Arbor Day comes round in 
 succeeding years, even after I am dead. Very sincerely yours, 
 
 Joel T. Headley. 
 
3 66 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 
 
 [From Benson J. Lossing, an American Historian.] 
 
 The Ridge, Dover Plains, N. Y., April 22, 1889. 
 
 My Dear Sir — Impressing on the minds of the young the importance of performing 
 certain duties is sure to bear abundant fruit in the future. 
 
 Among the duties which every generation owes to posterity, that of tree-planting, 
 whether for the production of fruit, or for shade, or for timber, is very conspicuous. Ii 
 is a beneficent and patriotic service, for it redounds to the comfort of man and the good 
 of one's country. 
 
 Bryant wrote, long ago : 
 
 " The groves were God'sfirst temples. Ere man learned Might not resist the sacred influences 
 
 To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, Which, from the stillv twilight of the place, 
 
 And spread the roof above them — ere he framed And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven 
 
 The lofty vault, to gather and roll back Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
 
 The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood, Of the invisible breath that swayed at once 
 
 Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down. All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed 
 
 And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks His spirit with the thought of boundless power 
 
 And supplication. For his simple heart And inaccessible majesty." 
 
 Thus were trees spontaneously dedicated to the worship of the Almighty. 
 
 Trees have stood for generations, living witnesses of notable deeds of men. Many in 
 our own country have been so made memorable. I will allude to a few of them. 
 
 On the banks of the Genesee river stood an oak believed to have been a thousand 
 years old, called "The Big Tree." Under it the Seneca Nation of Indians held coun- 
 cils ; and it gave the title, " Big Tree," to one of the eminent chiefs of that nation, at the 
 period of our Revolution. I measured it in the summer of 1857. It was twenty-six feet 
 in circumference. It was swept away by a flood in the autumn of that year. 
 
 The Elm tree at Philadelphia, under which William Penn made a treaty with the 
 Indians in 16S2, stood until March, 1810, when it was prostrated by a gale. 
 
 A pear-tree that stood on the corner of Thirteenth street and Third avenue, in New 
 York city, bore fruit until i860, when it perished. It was planted in his garden by Peter 
 Stuyvesant, the last Dutch Governor of New Netherlands (now New York), in 1667. 
 
 In Cambridge, Mass., near Boston, there yet stands, though in a decaying condition, 
 the huge Elm tree under which Washington took command of the Continental Army in 
 July, 1775. The holder of the pen with which this letter is written is a piece of that tree. 
 
 There stood, until 1840, near Charleston, S. C, a magnificent magnolia tree, under 
 which Gen. Lincoln signed the capitulation of that city in 17S9. I saw it lying prostrate, 
 felled by an axe. 
 
 The Charter Oak, in Hartford, Ct., which was prostrated by a September gale in 1848, 
 when it measured twenty-five feet in circumference, was estimated to be six hundred 
 5'ears old, when the first emigrants, under Hooker, from Boston to the Connecticut Valley, 
 looked upon it with wonder. 
 
 The " Fox Oak," at Flushing, Long Island, under which George Fox, the founder of 
 the Society of Friends, or Quakers, preached in 1676, perished only a few years ago. It, 
 and another like it, stood near the house of John Browne, who had espoused the religious 
 tenets of Fox, and who entertained him on the occasion of his visit. 
 
 This list might be greatly enlarged. My letter is already too long, and I will close by 
 expressing a hope that the young people under your charge who may engage in tree- 
 planting on Arbor Day will appreciate the importance and value of their pleasant task. 
 
 Please present to the young workers my kindest salutations, and accept the same for 
 yourself. Yours very truly, 
 
 Benson J. Lossing. 
 
 [From Will Carleton, an American Poet.] 
 
 420 Green Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y., April 26, 1889 
 
 Dear Sir — Yours of the 6th is received. I appreciate deeply the honor conferred by 
 you and your school, in dedicating a tree to me, and hope to stand, sometime, with you 
 and them, beneath its shade. 
 
 Trees are silent sentinels, that never desert their post, till death or violence calls or 
 drives them away. They are friends, protectors and teachers ; the}' lead us naturally by 
 their innocent, lofty beauty, to " look through Nature up to Nature's God." 
 
 With kind regards to all, I remain Yours sincerely, 
 
 Will Carleton. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 367 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 
 
 [From Donald G. Mitchell (" Ik Marvel "), an American author.] 
 
 Edgewood, April 27, 1889. 
 
 My Dear Sir — Your favor came duly and I feel very much honored by the association 
 of my name — in even so slight a degree — with your proposed good work of tree-plant- 
 ing, and suppose that I owe the flattering attention of which you speak, to my often 
 declared allegiance to country pursuits, and a stead)' faith in the good that comes from 
 every-day familiarity with the flowers, and the trees, and the sunshine. 
 
 I'm not sure but I love trees even better than books ; — love them young, and love 
 them old ; and those mis-shapen and of foul growth, I love to cut and burn — (wishing 
 I could do the same for many books I encounter). 
 
 Pray commend me to your young bands of tree-lovers, and believe me, 
 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 Donald G. Mitchell. 
 
 3. Dedication Selections by seven pupils, representing the seven departments in the 
 
 main school building. 
 
 First Pupil: 
 
 We, representatives of the school children of New York State, meet to-day to do our 
 share toward making our country more beautiful and fertile. A treeless yard or street is 
 unsightly and desolate, and how much more a whole city or district ! Believing that the 
 wholesale destruction of trees is an injur)' to our land, and wishing to make the place 
 where we live more beautiful, we now replace a worthless tree by a new, thrifty and 
 ■vigorous growth. 
 
 Second Pupil „• Third Pupil : 
 
 All ye woods, and trees, and bow'rs, Green and lovely thou shalt stand, 
 
 All ye virtues and ye pow'rs O thou tree ! 
 
 That inhabit in the lakes. While the summer breeze 
 
 In the pleasant springs or brakes, Sweeps thy crest with its caressing hand, 
 
 Move your feet Strong and stately thou shalt rear 
 To our sound Thy proud form, 
 
 Whilst we greet While the winter storms 
 
 On this ground. Strip thee of the leaves that were so dear. 
 
 Fourth Pupil : Fifth Pupil : 
 
 He who plants a tree He who plants a tree, 
 
 Plants a hope. He plants love : 
 
 Rootlets up through fibres blindly grope ; Tents of coolness spreading out above 
 
 Leaves unfold into horizons free, Wayfarers, he may not live to see. 
 
 So man's life must climb Gifts that grow are best ; 
 
 From the clods of time Hands that bless are blest; 
 
 Unto heavens sublime. Plant ! Life does the rest. 
 
 Can'st thou prophesy, thou little tree, Heaven and earth help him whoplantsa tree, 
 
 What the glory of thy boughs shall be ? And his work its own reward shall be. 
 
 Lucy Larcom. 
 
 Sixth Pupil: 
 
 "There is something noble, simple and pure in a taste for trees. It argues, I think, 
 a sweet and generous nature to have this strong relish for beauties of vegetation, and this 
 friendship for the hardy and glorious sons of the forest. There is a grandeur of thought 
 connected with this part of rural economy. It is worthy of liberal, and free-born, and 
 aspiring men. He who plants an Oak looks forward to future ages, and plants for pos- 
 terity. Nothing can be less selfish than this. He cannot expect to sit in its shade nor 
 enjoy its shelter; but he exults in the idea that the acorn which he has buried in the earth 
 shall grow up into a lofty pile, and shall keep on flourishing and increasing and benefit- 
 ing mankind long after he shall have ceased to tread his paternal fields." 
 
 Seventh Pupil : 
 
 O happv tree which we plant today, In your cool shade will tired feet 
 
 What great good fortune waits you ! Pause, weary, when 'tis summer, 
 
 For vou w ill grow in sun and snow, And rest like this will be most sweet 
 Till age and death o'ertake you. To every tired new-comer. 
 
 Your winter covering of snow, So do they work, O graceful tree ! 
 
 Will dazzle with its splendor, Thouhast a share in giving ; 
 
 Your summer's garb, with richest glow. If thou shalt bless mankind like these, 
 
 Will feast of beauty render. Thy life will be worth living. 
 
 After reciting his selection each pupil placed a shovel of dirt around the tree. This 
 he did as a representative of his department. 
 
;68 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL 
 
 Specimen Programs. - Port Henry, N. IT. — Continued. 
 4. CHORUS.— * The Class Tree. A Chorus of over four hundred voices. 
 
 All the trees dedicated have the names of those to whom they were dedicated on the 
 frame work around the trees. 
 
 The blackboards in the High School in which the in-door exercises were held, were 
 very tastefully decorated with appropriate drawings made with colored and uncolored 
 crayons by our pupils. 
 
 BELATED. 
 
 A SINGLE buttercup I found, 
 A star upon my weary way, 
 As summer closed her heated round, 
 And ushered in the autumn day. 
 
 A)', yes, I slept, I sweetly dreamed 
 Of babbling brook and azure sky, 
 
 And in my foolish fancy deemed 
 
 That flowers like me would never die. 
 
 A little memory of May, 
 
 That slept too late, as I have done, 
 And so unknowingly gone astray, 
 
 And now stoqd lonely in the sun. 
 
 From such a dream why should I wake, 
 Afar and in another zone — 
 
 Wake only that the heart may break 
 To find myself alone, alone? 
 
 It seemed with anxious look to ask, 
 
 Are all my bright companions dead ? 
 
 Or have I slept, forgetting task, 
 
 Until the lovely May has sped ? 
 
 And this it is to live too long, 
 To overpass our proper time, 
 
 And hear, instead of merry song, 
 
 The bells of death in solemn chime. 
 
 There waves around me autumn-grain ; 
 
 I see the ripened apples shine ; 
 I feel the patter of the rain ; 
 
 I see the grapes that blush with wine. 
 
 So, too, with man ; youth slept away, 
 He wakes to find a useless age, 
 
 And wearily from day to day 
 
 Drags out an aimless pilgrimage. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 A MAY SONG. 
 
 THE orchard is a rosy cloud, 
 The oak a rosy mist, 
 And oh, the gold of the buttercups 
 The morning sun has kissed ! 
 There are twinkling shadows on the grass 
 
 Of a myriad tiny leaves, 
 And a twittering loud from the busy crowd 
 That build beneath the eaves. 
 Then sing, happy children, 
 
 The bird and bee are here, 
 The May time is a gay time, 
 
 The blossom time o' the year. 
 St. Nicholas, May, 1889. 
 
 A message comes across the fields, 
 
 Borne on the balmy air, 
 For all the little seeking hands 
 
 There are flowers enough and to spare. 
 Hark ! a murmuring in the hive, — 
 
 List ! a carol clear and sweet, — 
 While feathered throats the thrilling notes 
 A thousand times repeat. 
 
 Then sing, happy children, 
 
 The bird and bee are here, 
 The May time is a gay time, 
 
 The blossom time o' the year. 
 Anna M. Pratt. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 369 
 
 SPECIMEN PROGRAMS. 
 
 Port Henry, N. Y. 
 
 Arranged by Professor W. H. Benedict, now of the public schools of Elmira, N. Y., for an Arbor Day 
 celebration in May, 1888, before the law had taken effect. 
 
 PROGRAM. 
 Selections marked * given in this volume. 
 
 1. Reading of proposed Arbor Day law. 
 
 2. Paper — "Arbor Day." 
 
 3. Reading of letters : 
 
 [From James Russell Lowell.] 
 
 Deerfoot Farm, Southborough, March 28, 1S88. 
 Dear Sir — I can think of no more pleasant way of being remembered than by the 
 planting of a tree. Like whatever things are perennially good, it will be growing while 
 we are sleeping, and will survive us to make others happier. Birds will rest in it and fly 
 thence with messages of good cheer. I should be glad to think that any word or deed 
 of mine could be such a perennial presence of beauty, or show so benign a destiny. I 
 beg you and your pupils to accept my hearty good wishes. 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 James Russell Lowell. 
 
 [From Alice M. Longfellow.] 
 
 Mt. Vernon, Va., May n, 1888. 
 Dear Sir — I am sorry I was unable to write you a letter at the time you desired, but 
 I hope your celebration of Arbor Day was very successful, that the children were fully 
 interested in the occasion. I am glad you feel that this celebration is a means for bringing 
 the school children into contact with the lives of our writers, as the love of nature and of 
 literature ought surely to go together. Very truly yours, 
 
 Alice M. Longfellow, 
 (Daughter of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.) 
 
 [From Oliver Wendell Holmes.] 
 
 Boston, March 31, 1888. 
 
 My Dear Sir — I must write a line or two with my own hand to thank you for your 
 very kind letter, and to convey my best wishes to your pupils and their teachers. 
 
 It is a great pleasure and privilege to find that one's thoughts find a hospitable recep- 
 tion to the minds and hearts of friends who are personally unknown to us. 
 
 Very truly yours. 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 [From Edward W. Emerson.] 
 
 Concord, Mass., April 28, 1888. 
 
 Dear Sir — Your letter only came to-day: I hope mine will not be too late. It is 
 pleasant to learn that your school children are finding new interest in good books, and in 
 the wholesome book — Nature. 
 
 I wish that they may find them the joy and inspiration that my father did. 
 
 Boys are first led to the woods by trapping, shooting, or perhaps chopping, and girls 
 by love of wild-flowers, but soon some will learn to love the woods and lonely places, 
 not for these special reasons, but as their constant friends, comforting, resting them, ele- 
 vating and renewing their thoughts. To go alone or with only one companion who really 
 loves nature is necessary, for at a boisterous picnic the wood-gods are never found. 
 
 As I am called to speak for my father, to-day, I will tell also to your boys and girls to 
 carry away a good counsel which he gave to the boys and girls he met. It is this •. 
 "Always do what you are afraid to do," meaning of course, what you feel you ought to 
 do, if you only dared. 
 
 Wishing you a pleasant celebration, and that your thoughts may grow and give you joy 
 and seed for more. Sincerely yours, 
 
 • Edward W. Emerson, 
 24 (Son of Ralph Waldo Emerson.) 
 
3?o 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. "If. — Continued* 
 
 [From John B. Peaslee.] 
 
 Cincinnati, O., April 9, 1888. 
 
 Dear Sir — It is a source of great and abiding pleasure to me that the celebration of 
 memorial tree-planting by public schools which was inaugurated by us in Cincinnati in 
 1SS2, has been so generally adopted in Ohio, and in eighteen other States of our Union 
 and the Dominion of Canada ; and that this beautiful custom has crossed the ocean into 
 England, and that it has led the Grand Army Posts in many parts of our own State and 
 elsewhere, to plant trees, which are more durable than marble itself, in memory of their 
 soldier dead, instead of strewing flowers which perish in a da}', upon their honored graves. 
 
 As I said at the inauguration of this memorial tree-planting celebration in Author's Grove 
 in our Eden Park, the trees which the children plant, or which they assist in dedicating, 
 will become dearer and dearer to them as year after year rolls on. As the trees grow, and 
 their branches expand in beauty, so will the love for them increase in the hearts of those 
 bv whom they were planted or dedicated, and long before the children reach old age, they 
 will almost venerate these green and living memorials of youthful and happy days ; and 
 as those who have loved and cared for pets will ever be the friends of our dumb animals, 
 so will the)' ever be the friends of our forest trees. From the individual to the general, 
 is the law of our nature. Show me a person who in youth planted a tree, that has lived 
 and flourished, and I will show you a friend of trees and of forest culture. Besides, by 
 this memorial tree-planting, the children will become interested in the lives and works of 
 the distinguished men and women in whose honor and memory the trees are planted. 
 
 Heartily thanking } t ou for your kindness in asking me to participate by letter in your 
 coming celebration, and sincerely hoping that all who take part in planting and dedi- 
 cating the trees may live long to enjoy their beauty and their shades, 
 
 I remain, yours truly, 
 
 John B. Peaslee. 
 (Then Superintendent of the Cincinnati Public Schools.) 
 
 [From Hon. N. H. R. Dawson.] 
 
 Washington, D. C, April 18, 18S8. 
 
 Dear Sir — I notice with pleasure that you are preparing for the exercises of Arbor 
 Day; that you desire to make it a complete success in every particular. Planting trees is 
 a custom which should be fostered by all thoughtful people. The work is useful both to 
 the person who does it, and the place in which it is done, and the result is both econom- 
 ically profitable and aesthetically beautiful. A tree is a deposit in the bank of Nature 
 which she repays in the future a thousandfold. Trees properly chosen and wisely planted, 
 are pleasant for their shade, and profitable for their fruit, bark, or wood. They tend to 
 equalize the rainfall; they promote the gradual drainage of water from soils, and increase 
 the health of the locality ; they prevent the washing of surfaces into streams, and check 
 the formation of shallows in rivers and bays ; while they favor the existence of insect- 
 eating birds, and add indescribably to the charms of rural landscapes and of villages and 
 city life. With your northern trees I am not personally familiar enough to say any thing 
 of use. I know, however, that the native trees of the Middle States are various and 
 beautiful enough to satisfy every condition. If you select some trees for their rapid 
 growth, others for their longer life, some for their shade, and some for the value of their 
 products, some for their early foliage, and some for their enduring verdure, you will not 
 only make your young people familiar with the uses and beauties of trees, but you will 
 be a public benefactor. I am glad to see that this custom is coming into so general use, 
 and that the day is observed by the colleges and schools of many of our States. 
 
 To give you an idea of the size which some of our trees attain, I mention a live oak which 
 grew at Whale Branch plantation near Beaufort, S. C. This giant of the forest at some 
 little distance looked like a clump of trees. The trunk was only fourteen feet high to 
 the branches, which were like trees in size, and extended over a circle of one hundred 
 and twenty feet in diameter, nearly reaching the ground, spreading out and forming a 
 delightful resting place from the heats of summer. The trunk was over thirty-six feet in 
 circumference. The age of this mammoth was not known ; it was a large tree when the 
 colony was settled in 1680, and continued to flourish until 1864, when it was accidentally 
 destroyed bv fire. For generations it had been one of the landmarks of the country, and 
 the playground and trysting-place of the young people of the vicinity, sheltering them 
 in their^sports. In July, 1816, a party of eighty-five persons celebrated the national 
 anniversary under its shade, and dined at a table spread under one of the branches of 
 this majestic oak. This tree, the Quercus Vireus, is indigenous to the South Atlantic 
 and Gulf States, and is of very common growth. It is an evergreen, and a tree of great 
 beauty and symmetry. Its branches are draped with festoons of the beautiful grey moss 
 peculiar to that latitude, and the stranger in traveling through the country will frequently 
 imagine himself among the historical Druidical forests of Old England. These ancient 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 3 y 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 
 
 oaks line the avenues, and ornament the lawns of many of the plantations. The wood is 
 tough and durable, and is used extensively in ship-building. I need not mention the 
 immense forests of pine that grow upon the Pacific coast, as these are familiar to every 
 one. 
 
 The wanton and willful destruction of our American forests should be arrested, or else 
 the time will come when we shall have to import our timber and lumber from foreign 
 countries. 
 
 It is a beautiful custom to commemorate the virtues of distinguished persons by plant- 
 ing trees in their memory. 
 
 Wishing you every success in your effort to introduce and encourage the observation 
 of the day. I remain, yours very truly, 
 
 N. H. R. Dawson, 
 (Then Commissioner of Education.) 
 
 [From Hon. A. S. Draper.] 
 
 Albany. X. Y., April 30, 18SS. 
 
 Dear Sir — I have received your esteemed favor of the 21st instant, asking me to send 
 you a few words concerning your " Arbor Day " exercises. 
 
 While man) r duties in this department occupy my time so completely that I feel I can 
 say but little that will be useful to you on that occasion, I am free to offe: my congratu- 
 lations to you and your people that you have inaugurated these exercises, which bid fair 
 to become general throughout the State. I inclose you herewith a copy of a bill which 
 has passed the Legislature and is now in the hands of the Governor, in reference to the 
 establishment of a uniform da}' to be observed as " Arbor Day." Should this measure 
 receive the approval of the Governor, I find that I shall hereafter be in more direct com- 
 munication with the schools of the State on the subject of which it treats. 
 
 While the needs of commerce and of business for a number of years have been deplet- 
 ing our forests to almost an alarming extent, and have directed public attention to the 
 necessity of doing something to overcome this wholesale massacre of the "giants of the 
 forest," it is highly gratifying that in many sections of the State, those interested in con- 
 ducting our schools have inaugurated the plan, in a greater or less degree, of tree-plant- 
 ing in honor of authors, generals, statesmen, and other great men. This will partially 
 make up the loss. 
 
 There is something touching and interesting in planting a tree and dedicating it to some 
 individual prominent in some feature of our State or Xational history. It is to be hoped 
 that this custom may grow with the coming years, until at least around all our school- 
 houses there may grow living monuments to remind future generations of the enterprise 
 and thoughtfulness of those who live in the present. The tree occupies a proud place 
 in nature. It holds it by a Divine right — the right of life, of growth, of progress, of 
 decay, and of death. It has these elements of humanity. The tree is the life of nature. 
 Without it, is waste and desert ; with it, comfort and beautv. Dignity and grace and 
 usefulness are its characteristics. Barren and cheerless the valley or the mountain with- 
 out the tree. The landscape robbed of it, would never tempt the brush of the meanest 
 painter in the world. 
 
 I hope the occasion may be interesting and profitable to all who contribute to it in any 
 way. The pleasure which you feel in your work will grow year by year, as the trees grow 
 in strength and beauty, and when your children's children shall gather beneath their 
 branches, may they have delightful memories of what others have done, and continue 
 themselves in the commendable work. 
 
 I am, yours very respectfully, 
 
 A. S. Draper, 
 Superintendent of Public Instruction. 
 
 4. Vocal Quartet.— " Music of the Pine." By Pupils of the High School. 
 
 5. Concert Exercise. — *" The Wayside Inn. — An Apple Tree." By Second Primary 
 
 Department. 
 
 6. Praises of the Oak. By First Primary Department. 
 
 1. The unwedgeable and gnarled oak. 6. Thy guardian oaks, my country, are thy boast. 
 
 2. The old oaken bucket. 7. The monarch oak, the patriarch of trees. 
 
 3. Jove's own tree that holds the woods in awful 8. The oak for grandeur, strength and nobie size, 
 
 sovereignty. excels all trees that in the forest grow. 
 
 4. A goodly oak, whose boughs were mass'd with age. 9. Tall oaks from little acorns grow. 
 
 5. King of the .woods. 10. The glory of the woods. 
 
 CONCERT RECITATION — "THE OAK," BY GEO. HILL. See Index. 
 
372 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y.— Continued. 
 
 7. Celebrated Trees. By Second Grammar Department. 
 
 8. Vocal Trio. Pupils of High School. 
 
 9. Breezes of the Forest. Second Intermediate Department. 
 
 i. I am the Sugar Maple and a favorite ornamental tree. People love me because I am 
 possessed of sweetness. I claim to have made more boys and girls happy than any other 
 tree. I have many changes in dress — wearing in spring the softest shade of every color; 
 in the summer the purest emerald, and in the autumn the most brilliant yellow. My 
 wood is used for furniture, floors, and for furnishing the interior of houses, and after the 
 houses are finished, few can warm them better than I. 
 
 2. I am often called Soft Maple, although my real name is Red Maple. I beautify the 
 country in spring with early red blossoms, and in autumn my leaves are streaked with 
 scarlet. 
 
 3. They call me Bass Wood. I am a fine shade tree, my home a moist, rich soil. My 
 fragrant flowers furnish a great amount of excellent honey for the bees at a time when 
 most other flowers have disappeared. My timber is soft, light and tough, and not apt 
 to split ; good for cabinet work, boxes, broom handles, etc. 
 
 4. I am known as the Black Walnut. I am not ornamental, nor am I a good neighbor, 
 for I sometimes poison other trees that live near me. In spite of my bad qualities, I am 
 liked because I can be converted into cash at any moment. Some of my brothers have 
 sold as high as if 2,000. Those who care for us care for a fortune. 
 
 5. Recognize in me the Hickory. If you want a wood that is good for buggies, ax 
 handles, barrel hoops, a wood like iron, call upon me. You will have all the nuts you 
 want thrown into the bargain. Once upon a time there was a president of the country 
 who had so manv of my qualities that they called him Old Hickory. 
 
 6. I am styled the White Ash. I am a tall tree, and have often been complimented for 
 my usefulness. I have been told that I have a graceful top and beautiful pinnate leaves. 
 My wood is heavy, hard, strong, coarse-grained, compact, and of a brown color, and is 
 much used for cabinet ware, farm implements, and house finishing. 
 
 7. Behold in me the Beech. Upon my smooth, gray bark many a heart history has 
 been carved. The poet, Campbell, tells it so beautifully : 
 
 Thrice twenty summers have I stood, 
 Since youthful lovers in my shade 
 Their vows of truth and rapture paid, 
 And, on my trunk's surviving frame, 
 Carved man}- a long forgotten name. 
 
 8. I rejoice in the name of the Pine. I am the musician among the trees. I sing only 
 when the spirit moves. You may know when that is by the peculiar swaying of my head. 
 
 9. The name White Oak distinguishes me from my neighbors. I am the senior mem- 
 ber of our family, and have attained a very great age. Every particle of me is useful, 
 even to my ashes. My bark is used for tanning leather. My wood is hard, compact, 
 heavy, tough and durable, good for heavy wagons, plows, railroad ties, fence posts, ship 
 timber, furniture, and finishing the interior of houses. 
 
 10. I am the celebrated Birch. I am a useful factor in the cause of education, though 
 not now so commonly found in the school-room as in former years. Probably you are 
 best acquainted with the Canoe Birch, whose white wood you see in spools and shoe pegs. 
 It gives up its beautiful white dress without any injury to itself. Let us all tell our friends 
 what Longfellow has said of the Birch tree. 
 
 CONCERT RECITATION. " THE BIRCH TREE." See Index. "The Story of Hiawatha." 
 10. " Voices of the Trees." First Intermediate Department. 
 
 1. Beheld in me the Hemlock Spruce. I have been called by students in art, botany 
 and horticulture the most beautiful coniferous, hardy tree yet known. I grow to a good 
 height and acquire a large size. My evergreen leaves have delicate tints, my young 
 branches droop gracefully. As a timber tree I do not claim the highest honor. My bark 
 is valuable for tanning leather. 
 
 2. I am the Black Spruce. I abound in swamps. I am often used for Christmas trees 
 on festive occasions, and boys and girls search me over for a supply of first-class gum. 
 I am not responsible, though, for all the gum that goes by my name. Within a few years 
 my wood has been largely used to make white paper. 
 
 3. People call me Red Cedar. In summer my leaves are beautiful, but in winter they 
 become brown. I am found sparingly in any part of the world, though I am the most 
 widely distributed of any tree in the United States. I grow slowly and produce a beau- 
 tiful, red, fragrant wood/which is soft and very durable. My wood is now mainly limited 
 to the making of lead pencils. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 3 JT> 
 
 Specimen Programs. - rort Henry, N. Y.— Continued. 
 
 4. My name is Arbor Vitse. I thrive in the swamps of the north and afford shelter to 
 wild animals. I am often called White Cedar, and I furnish most of the telegraph poles, 
 some fence posts, railway ties and blocks for paving streets. I take a high place as an 
 ornamental tree. 
 
 5. I am called the Chestnut. All botanists of the present day agree that I am first 
 cousin to the Oak. I am well known for valuable timber and a good crop of edible 
 nuts. I am a great friend of the boys and girls. Sometimes naughty boys seek me 
 rather than the school-room. Of course no such boys live in Port Henry. 
 
 6. I have received the name of Tulip Tree. I am not only valuable as an ornamental 
 shade tree, but I also furnish excellent timber for carriage bodies, furniture and finishing 
 houses. I grow to a great size and height and have shining, queer-shaped leaves, and 
 large, tulip-shaped blossoms. 
 
 7. You may call me the Balsam Fir. I am a rather small, slender evergreen, found 
 in swamps, though often cultivated as an ornament about dwellings. I arrive at my 
 prime when about fourteen years old. 
 
 8. I am known as the Willow. I live near the water and my wood is made into the 
 strangest things, — artificial limbs, tooth-picks, ball clubs and gunpowder. Some of us 
 are called Pussy Willows. 
 
 O, Willow, why forever weep, Mourn on forever, unconsoled, 
 
 As one who mourns an endless wrong? And keep your secret, faithful tree ! 
 
 What hidden woe can lie so deep ? No heart in all the world can hold 
 What utter grief can last so long ? A sweeter grace than constancy. 
 
 g. You see before you the Red Elm. I am well known for my durable red wood and 
 mucilaginous bark and am often called Slippery Elm. 
 
 10. I am familiar to all as the American Elm. I have been called the Queen of the 
 Forest, and stand without a rival at the head of the list of ornamental deciduous-leaved 
 trees. I claim this rank on account of rapid growth and the graceful and majestic beauty 
 of my drooping branches. 
 
 Let us all recite the praises of the Elm. 
 
 Concert Recitation. 
 
 Hail to the Elm ! the brave old Elm ! Yet he holds them well, and lives to tell 
 Our last lone forest tree, His tale of ye olden time ! 
 
 Whose limbs outstand the lightning's brand, Then hail to the Elm ! the green-topp'd Elm! 
 For a brave old Elm is he ! And long may his branches wave. 
 
 For fifteen score of fuil-told years. For a relic is he, the gnarl'd old tree, 
 He has borne his leafy prime, Of the times of the good and brave. 
 
 11. Vocal Solo — * " Woodman, Spare that Tree." 
 
 12. " Song of the Trees," First Grammar Department. 
 
 13. Chorus— " The Picnic," by the High School." 
 
 The audience then repaired to the grounds outside where trees had been planted, the 
 planting complete with the exception of placing of a little more earth around the roots, 
 and in the following order and manner, dedicated seven trees to the perpetual honor and 
 memory of so many of our beloved and honored American poets. 
 
 The first of the trees approached, was the one chosen to be henceforth associated with 
 the name of the patriotic Christian poet, John G. Whittier. 
 
 This dedication service was very appropriate and suggestive, consisting of 
 
 1st. A brief sketch of the poet's life. 
 
 2d. Singing an appropriate chorus. 
 
 3d. Reciting ten gems from the author's works. 
 
 4th. Depositing earth around the tree to symbolize the whole process of planting. 
 
 The same form of exercise was followed at each tree. 
 
 THE WHITE ASH, DEDICATED TO JOHN G. WHITTIER. 
 
 By Second Primary Department. 
 
 GEMS FROM WHITTIER: 
 
 1. Two stanzas form "lanes for an Agricultural Exhibition:" "Give fools their 
 
 gold," See Index. 
 
 2. Introductory to "The Funeral Tree of the Sokokis." See Index. 
 
,74 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N, Y. — Continued. 
 
 3. Last six lines from " April." See Index. 
 
 4. From " Mogg Megone : " 
 
 The oak upon the windy hill, 
 
 Its dark green burthen upward heaves — 
 
 The hemlock broods above its rill, 
 
 Its cone-like foliage darker still, 
 
 Against the birch's graceful stem, 
 
 And the rough walnut-bough receives 
 
 5. From " A Memorial : " 
 
 Green be those hillside pines forever, 
 And green the meadowy lowlands be, 
 And green the old memorial beeches, 
 Name-carven in the woods of Lee ! 
 
 6. From " Dedication " to " Songs of Labor : : 
 
 Above the fallen groves of green, 
 Where youth's enchanted forest stood, 
 Dry root and mossed trunk between, 
 A sober after-growth is seen, 
 
 As springs the pine where falls the gay-leafed maple 
 wood. 
 
 7. Extract from a letter: 
 
 The sun upon its crowded leaves, 
 Each colored like a topaz gem ; 
 And the tall maple wears with them 
 The coronal, which autumn gives, 
 The brief, bright sign of ruin near, 
 The hectic of a dying year ! 
 
 Still let them greet thy life companions 
 Who thither turn their pilgrim feet. 
 In every mossy line recalling 
 A tender memory sadly sweet. 
 
 Yet birds will sing, and breezes play 
 Their leaf-harps in the sombre tree: 
 And through the bleak and wintry day 
 It keeps its steady green alway, — 
 So, even my afterthoughts may have a charm for 
 thee. 
 
 The wealth, beauty, fertil it}', and healthfulness of the country largely depend upon the 
 conservation of our forests and the planting of trees. My indignation is yearly aroused 
 by the needless sacrifice of some noble oak or elm, and especially of the white pine, the 
 grandest trees in our woods, which I would not exchange for oriental palms. 
 
 8. From " The Lumbermen : " 
 
 Wildly round our woodland quarters, 
 
 Sad-voiced autumn grieves ; 
 Thickly down these swelling waters 
 
 Float his fallen leaves. 
 
 9. From * " The Palm Tree : " 
 
 To him the palm is a gift divine, 
 
 Wherein all uses of man combine, — 
 House, and raiment, and food, and wine ! 
 
 10. From " The Frost Spirit : '' 
 
 He comes,— he comes, — the Frost Spirit comes! 
 You may trace his footsteps now. 
 On the naked woods and the blasted fields and the 
 brown hills' withered brow. 
 
 Through the tall and naked timber, 
 
 Column-like and old, 
 Gleam the sunsets of November, 
 
 From their skies of gold. 
 
 And, in the hour of his great release, 
 His need of the palm shall only cease 
 
 With the shroud wherein he lieth in peace. 
 
 He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees where 
 
 their pleasant green came forth, 
 And the winds, which follow wherever he goes, have 
 
 shaken them down to the earth. 
 
 THE SUGAR MAPLE, DEDICATED TO OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 
 
 By First Primary Department. 
 GEMS FROM HOLMES: 
 
 1. Extract from * " Talks on Trees:" — " There is a mother-idea," etc. See Index. 
 
 2. Extract from a letter : 
 
 When we plant a tree, we are doing what we can to make our planet a more wholesome 
 and happier dwelling-place for those who come after us, if not for ourselves. As you 
 drop the seed, as you plant the sapling, your left hand hardly knows what your right hand 
 is doing. But Nature knows, and in due time the Power that sees and works in secret 
 will reward you openly. 
 
 3. Extract from letter : 
 
 You have been warned against hiding your talent in a napkin ; but if your talent takes 
 the form of a maple-key or an acorn, and your napkin is a shred of the apron that covers 
 the lap of the earth, you may hide it there, unblamed ; and when you render in your 
 account you will find that your deposit has been drawing compound interest all the time. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 375 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 
 
 4. Extract from a letter : 
 
 I have written rpany verses, but the best poems I have produced are the trees I 
 planted on the hill-side which overlooks the broad meadows, scalloped and rounded at 
 their edges by loops of the sinuous Housatonic. Nature finds rhymes for them in the 
 recurring measures of the seasons. Winter strips them of their ornaments and gives 
 them, as it were, in prose translation, and summer reclothes them in all the splendid 
 phrases of their leafy language. 
 
 5. Extract from a letter: 
 
 What are these maples and beeches and birches but odes and idyls and madrigals ? 
 What are these pines and firs and spruces but holy hymns, too solemn for the many-hued 
 raiment of their gay deciduous neighbors ? 
 
 6. Extract from a letter : 
 
 The trees may outlive the memory of more than one of those in whose honor they 
 were planted. But if it is something to make two blades of grass grow where only one 
 was growing, it is much more to have been the occasion of the planting of an oak which 
 shall defy twenty scores of winters, or of an elm which shall canopy with its green 
 cloud of foliage half as many generations of mortal immortalities. 
 
 7. From " Spring has Come : " 
 
 The willow's whistling lashes, wrung 
 
 By the wild winds of gusty March, 
 With sallow leaflets lightly strung, 
 
 Are swayed by the tufted larch : 
 
 8. From " After a Lecture on Wordsworth i 
 
 Beauty runs virgin in the woods 
 
 Robed in her rustic green, 
 And oft a longing thought intrudes. 
 
 As if we might have seen 
 
 9. From the same : 
 
 Take what she gives, her pine's tall stem, 
 
 Her elm with hanging spray ; 
 She wears her mountain diadem 
 
 Still in her own proud way. 
 
 The elms have robed their slender spray 
 
 With full-blown flower and embryo leaf; 
 
 Wide o'er the clasping arch of day 
 Soars like a cloud their hoary chief. 
 
 Her every finger's every joint 
 
 Ringed with some golden line, 
 
 Poet whom Nature did anoint ! 
 Had our wild home been thine. 
 
 Look on the forests' ancient kings, 
 The hemlock's towering pride: 
 
 Yon trunk had thrice a hundred rings, 
 And fell before it died. 
 
 9. From *" Talks on Trees " in " Autocrat of the Breakfast Table : " "I shall speak of 
 trees as we know them," etc. See Index, " Talks on Trees." 
 
 THE WHITE BIRCH, DEDICATED TO JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 
 
 By Second Intermediate Department. 
 
 GEMS FROM LOWELL : 
 
 1. From "To a Pine Tree :" " Spite of winter," etc. See Index. 
 
 2. From "The Birch Tree." First two stanzas. See Index. 
 
 3. From " An Indian Summer Reverie : " 
 
 The birch, most shy and ladylike of trees, 
 
 Her poverty, as best she may, retrieves, 
 
 And hints at her foregone gentilities, 
 
 With some saved relics of her wealth of leaves; 
 
 4. From the same : 
 
 The red-oak softer-grained, yields all for lost, 
 And, with his crumpled foliage stiff and dry, 
 After the first betrayal of the frost, 
 Rebuffs the kiss of the relenting sky; 
 
 5. Extract: 
 
 A little of thy steadfastness, 
 Rounded with leafy gracefulness, 
 
 Old oak, give me — 
 That the world's blast may round me blow. 
 
 The swamp-oak, with his royal purples on, 
 Glares red as blood across the sinking sun, 
 As one who proudlier to a falling fortune cleaves. 
 
 The chestnuts, lavish of their long-hid gold, 
 To the faint summer, beggared now and old, 
 Pour back the sunshine hoarded 'neath her favoring 
 eye. 
 
 And I 3'ield gently to and fro, 
 While my stout-hearted trunk below, 
 And firm-set roots unshaken be. 
 
3/6 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 Specimen Programs.-Port Henry r N. Y. — Continued. 
 6. From "A Mood:" 
 
 Pine in the distance, patient through sun or rain, 
 
 Meeting with graceful persistence, 
 
 With yielding but rooted resistance. 
 
 The north wind's wrench and strain, 
 
 No memory of past existence, 
 
 Brings thee pain. 
 
 7. From *"The Oak." First Stanza. See Index. 
 
 To me 'tis not chee.r thou art singing : 
 
 There's a sound of the sea, 
 
 O mournful tree. 
 
 In thy boughs forever clinging, 
 
 And the far-off roar 
 
 Of waves on the shore 
 
 A shattered vessel flinging. 
 
 8. From *" Under the Willows :" "I care not how men trace their ancestry," etc., 
 
 four lines, and " I have man}' a life-long leafy friend," etc., six lines. See Index. 
 
 9. From the same: " In June 'tis good to lie beneath a tree," etc., seven lines. See Index. 
 
 10. From *" Under the Old Elm : " " Of our swift passage," etc., seven lines. See Index. 
 
 THE BASSWOOD, DEDICATED TO THE CARY SISTERS. 
 
 By First Intermediate Department. 
 GEMS FROM ALICE AND PHOEBE CARV : 
 
 1. From "A Lesson:" 
 
 One autumn time I went into the woods 
 
 When Nature grieves, 
 And wails the drying up of the bright floods 
 
 Of summer leaves. 
 Then sitting down beneath a naked tree, 
 
 I looked about, — 
 
 2. From the same : 
 
 Woodland, green and gay with dew, 
 
 Here, to-day, I pledge anew 
 
 All the love I gave to you 
 
 When mv heart was young and glad. 
 
 Beeches gray, and solemn firs, 
 
 3. From " The Felled Tree : " 
 
 I slipped my roots round the stony soil 
 Like rings on the hand of a bride, 
 
 And my boughs took hold of the summer's smile 
 And grew out green and wide. 
 
 4. From " Old Pictures : " 
 
 I see far off the woods whose screen 
 Bounded the little world we knew, 
 I see the comely apple-trees, 
 
 5. From " Mourning in the Mountains : " 
 
 Saying, in these, if there a lesson be, 
 
 I 11 spy it out. 
 And presently the teaching that was meant 
 
 I thought 1 saw, — 
 That I, in trial, should patiently consent 
 
 To God's great law. 
 
 Thickets full of bees and burs. 
 You were then my school-masters. 
 Teaching me as best you could, 
 How the evil by the good — 
 Thorns by flowers must be construed. 
 
 And lambs, in white rows on the grass, 
 Lay down within my shade ; 
 
 So I knew, all homely as I was, 
 For a good use I was made. 
 
 In spring a blush with blossoms sweet 
 Or, bending with the autumn Breeze, 
 Shake down the ripe fruits at our feet. 
 
 And now from every sheltering shrub and vine, 
 And thicket wild with many a tangled spray. 
 
 And from the birch and elm and rough-browed pine, 
 The birds begin to serenade the day. 
 
 6. From " The Barefoot Boy : " 
 
 I touch the spring-time's tender grass, 
 
 1 find the daisv buds ; 
 I feel the shadows deep and cool. 
 
 In the heart of the summer woods ; 
 
 1. From " Faded Leaves : " 
 
 The hills are bright with maples yet ; 
 
 But down the level land 
 The beech leaves rustle in the wind 
 
 As dry and brown as sand. 
 
 8. From " A Dream of Home : " 
 
 I see the ripened autumn nuts, 
 
 Like thick hail strew the earth ; 
 
 I catch the fall of the winter snow, 
 
 And the glow of the cheerful hearth . 
 
 The clouds in bars of rusty red 
 Along the hill-tops glow, 
 
 And in the still, sharp air, the frost 
 Is like a dream of snow. 
 
 woods, with starlight shining through 
 My heart to-night is back with you ! 
 
 1 know each beech and maple tree, 
 Each climbing brier and shrub I see, — 
 Like friends they stand to welcome me. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 377 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 
 
 9. From " Our Homestead : " 
 
 Our old brown homestead reared its walls In the lonesome nights, and heard the limbs 
 From the wayside dust aloof, As they creaked against the pane; 
 
 Where the apple-boughs could almost cast And those orchard trees, oh, those orchard trees! 
 Their fruit upon its roof; I've seen my little brothers rocked 
 
 And the cherry-tree so near it grew In their tops by the summer breeze- 
 That when awake I've lain 
 
 10. From " Field Preaching : " 
 
 I have been out in field and wood, 
 Listening to praises sweet and counsel good. 
 Such as a little child had understood, 
 
 That, in its tender youth, 
 Discerns the simple eloquence of truth. 
 
 THE OAK, DEDICATED TO WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 
 
 By Second Grammar Department. 
 GEMS FROM BRYANT- 
 
 1. From *" Forest Hymn : " " The groves were God's first temples," eight lines. See 
 
 Index. 
 
 2. From the same : " Father, thou hast not left thyself without a witness," etc., ten lines. 
 
 3. From *"Among the Trees:" "The wind of May is sweet," etc., six lines. See 
 
 Index. 
 
 4. From the same: " Trees of the forest, and the open plain," etc., ten lines. 
 
 5. From the same: "Nay, doubt not," etc., seven lines. 
 
 6. From *" An Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood." First nine lines. See Index. 
 
 7. From *"The Antiquity of Freedom:" "Here are old trees," etc., twelve lines. 
 
 See Index. 
 
 8. From * " The Planting of the Apple Tree." First stanza. See Index. 
 
 9. From " My Autumn Walk : " 
 
 Beautiful over my pathway The leaves are swept from the branches 
 The forest spoils are shed ; But the living buds are there, 
 
 They are spotting the grassy hillocks With folded flower and foliage, 
 With purple and gold and red, To sprout in a kinder air. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 10. From " Autumn Woods : " 
 
 O Autumn ! why so soon Ah ! 'twere a lot too blest 
 
 Depart the hues that make thy forests glad. Forever in thy colored shades to stray ; 
 
 Thy gentle wind and thy fair sunny noon, Amid the kisses of the soft south-west 
 And leave thee wild and sad ! To rove and dream for aye. 
 
 THE RED MAPLE, DEDICATED TO HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 By First Grammar Department. 
 GEMS FROM LONGFELLOW • 
 
 1. From * " The Hemlock Tree." See Index. 
 
 2. From * " The Masque of Pandora : " 
 
 Guarding the mountains around Filled with the breath of freedom 
 
 Majestic the forests are standing. Each bosom subsiding,-, expanding, 
 
 Bright are their crested helms, Now like the ocean sinks, 
 
 Dark is their armor of leaves ; Now like the ocean upheaves. 
 
 3. From *" Evangeline." Introduction. See Index. 
 
 4. From * " The Spirit of Poetry : " 
 
 There is a quiet spirit in these woods. The flowers, the leaves, the river on its way 
 
 ***** 
 
 ***** Groves, through whose broken roof the sky looks in, 
 
 Hence gifted bards. The distant lake, fountains, and mighty trees, 
 Have ever loved the calm and quiet shades. * * * 
 
 For then there was an eloquent voice in all In many a lazv syllable, repeating 
 
 The sylvan pomp of woods, the golden sun, Their old poetic legends to the wind. 
 
3/8 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 Specimen Programs.— Port Henry, N. Y. — Continued. 
 
 5. From " Woods in Winter:" 
 
 O'er the bare upland, and away Where, twisted round the barren oak. 
 Through the long reach of desert woods, The summer vine in beauty clung, 
 
 The embracing sunbeams chastely play, And summer winds the stillness broke, 
 And gladden these deep solitudes. The crystal icicle is hung. 
 
 6. From " To the Driving Cloud : " 
 
 Back, then, back to thy woods ! 
 
 There as a monarch thou reignest. In autumn the leaves of the maple 
 
 Pave the floors of thy palace-halls with gold, and in summer 
 
 Pine trees waft through its chambers the odorous breath of their branches. 
 
 From " A day of Sunshine : : 
 
 I hear the wind among the trees 
 Playing celestial symphonies ; 
 I see the branches downward bent. 
 Like keys of some great instrument. 
 
 7. From " Autumn : " 
 
 With what a glory comes and goes the year ! Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life 
 
 There is a beautiful spirit breathing now Within the solemn woods of ash deep crimsonea. 
 
 Its mellow richness on the clustered trees, And silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved. 
 
 And, from a beaker full of richest dyes. Where autumn, like a faint old man, sits down 
 
 Pouring new glory on the autumn woods. By the way side a- weary. 
 The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, 
 
 8. From *"An April Day." Third, fourth and fifth stanzas. See Index. 
 
 9. From * " Sunrise on the Hills. " Last stanza. See Index. 
 
 10. From *" Voices of the Night." First two stanzas. See Index. 
 
 THE IRONWOOD, DEDICATED TO RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
 
 By the High School. 
 GEMS FROM EMERSON : 
 
 1. From " Nature : " 
 
 At the gates of the forest, the surprised man of the world is forced to leave his city 
 estimates of great and small, wise and foolish. The knapsack of custom falls off his 
 back with the first step he takes into these precincts. The tempered light of the woods 
 is like a perpetual morning, and is stimulating and heroic. The stems of pines, hem- 
 locks and oaks almost gleam like iron on the excited eye. The incommunicable trees 
 begin to persuade us to live with them and quit our life of solemn trifles. 
 
 2. From " The Adirondacks : " 
 
 The wood was sovran with centennial trees, — Five-leaved, three-leaved and two-leaved, grew 
 
 Oak, cedar, maple, poplar, beech and fir, thereby. 
 
 Linden and spruce. In strict society Our patron pine was fifteen feet in girth, 
 
 Three conifers, white, pitch and Norway pines, The maple eight, beneath its shapely tower. 
 
 3. From " Farming : " 
 
 Set out a pine-tree, and it dies in the first year, or lives a poor spindle. But nature drops 
 a pine cone in Mariposa, and it lives fifteen centuries, grows three or four hundred feet 
 high, and thirty in diameter, — grows in a grove of giants, like a colonnade of Thebes. 
 Ask the tree how it was done. It did not grow on a ridge, but in a basin, where it found 
 deep soil, cold enough and dry enough for the pine; defending itself from the sun by 
 growing in groves, and from the wind by the walls of the mountain. The roots that 
 shot deepest, and the stems of happiest exposure, drew the nourishment from the rest, 
 until the less thrifty perished. 
 
 4. The influence of forests on the healthfulness of the atmosphere demands thoughtful 
 attention. Plants imbibe from the air carbonic acid, and other gaseous and volatile pro- 
 ducts, exhaled by animals or developed by the natural phenomena of decomposition. 
 These the trees, more than the smaller plants, absorb, and instead of them pour into the 
 atmosphere pure oxygen, essential to the life of animals. The carbon, the very substance 
 of wood, is taken from the carbonic acid thus absorbed. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 379 
 
 Specimen Programs. — Port Henry, N. Y. —Continued. 
 
 5. From " The Earth » (Nature) : 
 
 See yonder leafless trees against the sky, 
 How they diffuse themselves into the air, 
 And, ever subdividing, separate 
 
 6. From " My Garden : " 
 
 If I could put my woods in song. 
 And tell what 's there enjoyed, 
 
 All men would to my garden throng, 
 And leave the cities void. 
 
 In my plot no tulips blow — 
 
 Snow-loving pines and oaks instead; 
 
 7. From " The Method of Nature : " 
 
 Limbs into branches, branches into twigs, 
 As if they loved the element, and hasted 
 To dissipate their being into it. 
 
 And rank the savage maples grow 
 
 From Spring's faint flush to Autumn red. 
 
 My garden is a foresr ledge, 
 Which older forests bound ; 
 
 The banks slope down to the blue lake-edge. 
 Then plunge to depths profound. 
 
 There is no revolt in all the kingdoms from the common weal ; no detachment of an 
 individual. Every leaf is an exponent of the world. When we behold the landscape in 
 a poetic spirit, we do not reckon individuals. Nature knows neither palm, nor oak, but 
 only vegetable life, which sprouts into forests, and festoons the globe with a garland of 
 grasses and vines. 
 
 8. From " Wood Notes : " 
 
 Low lies the plant to whose creation went 
 Sweet influence from every element ; 
 Whose living towers the years conspired to build. 
 Whose giddy top the morning loved to gild. 
 
 He heard, when in the grove, at intervals. 
 With sudden roar the aged pine tree fall, — 
 One crash, the death-hymn of the perfect tree, 
 Declares the close of its green century. 
 
 9. From " Wood Notes : " 
 
 The Pine tree 
 
 Old as Jove, 
 
 Old as love, 
 
 Who of me 
 
 Tells the pedigree? 
 
 Only the mountains old, 
 
 Only the waters cold, 
 
 Only moon and star, 
 
 My coevals are. 
 
 Ere the first fowl sung, 
 
 10. From "Nature:" 
 
 In the woods a man casts off his years, and at what period soever of life, is always a 
 child. In the woods is perpetual youth. Within these plantations of God, a decorum 
 and sanctity reign, a perennial festival is dressed, and the guest sees not how he should 
 tire of them in a thousand years. In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I 
 feel that nothing can befall me in life — nodisgrace.no calamity, which nature cannot 
 repair. 
 
 My relenting boughs among, 
 
 Ere Adam wived, 
 
 Ere Adam lived, 
 
 Ere the duck dived, 
 
 Ere the bees hived, 
 
 Ere the lion roared. 
 
 Ere the eagle soared, 
 
 Light and heat, land and sea, 
 
 Spake unto the oldest tree. 
 
 THE DAISY. 
 
 I'M a pretty little thing, 
 Always coming with the spring; 
 In the meadows green I'm found, 
 Peeping just above the ground; 
 And my stalk is covered flat 
 With a white and yellow hat. 
 
 Little lady, when you pass 
 Lightly o'er the tender grass, 
 Skip about, but do not tread 
 On my meek and lowly head; 
 For I always seem to say, 
 " Surely winter 's gone away." 
 
 My fugitive years are all hasting away, 
 And I must ere long be as lowly as they; 
 With a turf on my breast and a stone at my head, 
 Ere another such grove shall arise in its stead. 
 
 Cowter. 
 
6^Fbor ©a\> Jvjusic. 
 
 ARBOR DAY. 
 
 Words by E. F. Stearns. Music by G. A. Veazie, Jr. 
 
 Hi * — J- 
 
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 From "The Coda," No. 125, Ginn & Co., Boston, 4 pages, price 1 cent. By Permission. Copyright, 18 
 
3§2 
 
 ARDOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 ARBOR DAY -Continued. 
 
 9^ 
 
 school - mates and friends we our tri - bute will bring, 
 
 name of some loved one whose brave deeds shall live, 
 
 fierce storms of win - ter no harm bring to thee, 
 
 shel - ter, a wel - come re - treat doth it bring. 
 
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 spir - ing our young hearts with new strength and will, 
 
 stroke of the light - ning now brave - ly is past, 
 
 let us with glad - ness sing long the re - frain, 
 
 Kg 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 187 
 
 HYMN OF PRAISE. 
 
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 "With all my powers of heart and tongue, I'll praise my 
 I'll sing thy truth and mer - cy, Lord ! I'll sing the 
 
 333 
 
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 ^ 
 
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 Ma - ker in my song ; An - gels shall hear the note I 
 won - ders of thy word ; Not all thy works and names be 
 
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 I 
 
 Moderate. 
 
 BLUE BIRD. 
 
 1. Blue-bird, joy - ous blue - bird, 
 
 2. Blue-bird, love - ly blue - bird, 
 
 BE 
 
 -*-?- 
 
 T^i^r 
 
 Car - ol - ing so clear ! 
 Did you long for home, 
 
 From " The Coda," No. 118, by Ginn & Co., Boston. t6 pagfes; price, 3 cents. By permission. 
 
 Copyright, 1888. 
 
388 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 BLUE BIRD -Continued, 
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 4. 
 
 a 
 
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 the win - ter drear, 
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 sad - ness 
 
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 FilPd my song All day long ! Fond - ly back I 
 
 here.' 
 roam. 
 
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 3 Blue-bird, gentle blue-bird, 
 Feared you any ill, 
 Though the nightfall met you, 
 Gloomiue vale and hill? 
 
 « Ah, the Master serving, 
 With a trust unswerving 
 
 Where he led, on I sped, 
 For he careth stilL" 
 
 From " The Coda," No. 118, by Ginn & Co., Boston. 16 pages; price, 3 cents. By permission. 
 
 Copyright, 1888. 
 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 389 
 
 IF EVER I SEE. 
 
 Childhood Songs. 
 
 
 n 
 
 1. If ev - er I see, On bush or tree, Young birds in a pret - ty nest, 
 
 2. My moth-er, I know, Would sor - row so, Should I be sto - len a - way': 
 
 ..ay : 
 3. And when they can fly, In the bright blue sky They'll war- ble a song to me; 
 
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 I must not, in my play, Steal the birds a - way, To grieve their moth-er's breast. 
 So I'll speak to the birds In my soft - est words, Nor hurt them in my play. 
 And then if I'm sad, It will make me so glad, To think they are hap -py and free. 
 
 From " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 4.' 
 
 By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothers. 
 
 PIAJfO 
 
 A SPRING SONG. 
 
 English. 
 
 ^fl 
 
 Allegretto. 
 
 
 
 
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 The 
 
 From "The Coda, No. 82, Ginn & Co., Boston. 4 pages; price 1 cent. By permission. Copyright, 1887. 
 
39° 
 
 ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 
 A SPRING SONG - Continued. 
 
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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 391 
 
 a 
 
 A SPRING SONG - Continued. 
 eves. 
 
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 now will bring, And with 
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 the 
 
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 now will bring, And with the trees will toy. 
 
 so ca - ress'd, One glo - ries in the scene. 
 
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 Spring, 
 
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 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL, 
 
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 A SPRING SONG -Continued. 
 
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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 393 
 
 Allegretto. 
 
 WELCOME TO THE FOREST. 
 
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 1. When sum- mer sun op - press - es, And burns -with rag - hog 
 
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 From "The Coda," No. nS, by Ginn & Co., Boston. 16 pajes; price, 3 cents. By permission. 
 
 Copyright, 1 83. 
 
 WE GREET THEE, MERRY SPRING TIME. 
 
 A llegro. 
 
 h I 
 
 Arr. Geo. F. Wilson. 
 
 J . L_ !=^J 
 
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 1. We greet thee,mer-ry Spring-time, Who com 'st with footsteps gay, 
 
 2. How bright the sun-light,beam-ing,From yon- der sky doth flow, 
 
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i94 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 WE GREET THEE MERRY SPRING TIME - Continued- 
 
 Laugh-ing, thro' the 
 
 Warmth and glo - ry 
 
 n 
 
 Lf f 
 
 mead- ows 
 stream-in g 
 
 To 
 
 Up 
 
 ieck the Queen of 
 - on our world be 
 
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 May. Be - 
 
 - low ! Its 
 
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 neath, the blos-soms spring - ing,Their fra - grant pet - als rear ; — 
 wreath of gold - en treas - ure Sets all the world a - glow ; — 
 
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 Wel-come, mer - ry Spring - time, The glo - ry of the year, 
 On - ly for our pleas - ure, Ten thous-and bios- soms blow, 
 
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 From "The Coda," No. n8, by Ginn & Co.. Boston. 16 pages; price, 3 cents. By permission 
 
 Copyright, 18S8. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 395 
 
 WHAT THE LITTLE THINGS SAID. 
 
 O. B. Brown. 
 
 ± 
 
 -v- 
 
 5=t 
 
 1. "I'll hie me down to yon-der bank," A lit - tie rain-drop said, "And 
 
 2. "I may not lin-ger," said the brook,"But rip- pie on my way, And 
 
 i 
 
 £ 
 
 -* — *- 
 
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 try to cheer that lone - ly flow'r, And cool its moss - y bed : Per - 
 help the rills and riv - ers all To make the o-cean spray ;" "And 
 
 i 
 
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 haps the breeze will chide me, Be - cause I am so small ; But, 
 I must haste to la - bor," Re - plied the bus - y bee, " The 
 
 m 
 
 sure - ly, I must do my best, For God has work for all/ 
 Sum-mer days are long and bright,And God has work for me.' 
 
 If little things that God has made 
 
 Are useful in their kind, 
 Oh ! let us learn a simple truth, 
 
 And bear it in our mind : 
 That every child can praise Him, 
 
 However weak and small ; 
 Let each with joy remember this, — 
 
 The Lord has work for nSl. 
 
 From " The Coda," No. 8, Ginn & Co., Boston. 4 pages ; price, 2 cents. By permission. 
 
 Copyrighted, 1887. 
 
; 9 6 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 ROAMING. 
 
 Allegretto. 
 
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 1. In mer - ry mood here roam - ing The dai - sied green up 
 
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 SOFT AND SWEET THE ZEPHYRS SIGH. 
 Leggiero. 
 
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 1. Soft and sweet the zeph- yrs sigh, zeph-yrs sigh, zeph - yrs sigh; 
 
 2. Glad I hear the chirp-ing song, chirp-ing song, chirp - ing song 
 
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 From " The Coda," No. n8, Ginn & Co., Boston. 16 pages; price, 3 cents. By permission. 
 
ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 )97 
 
 SOFT AND SWEET THE ZEPHYRS SIGH -Continued. 
 
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 'Neath a calm and pla - cid sky, 'Neath a pla - cid sky ; 
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!93 
 
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 Gay lit-tle Dan-de-lion, lights up themeads.Swingsonher slen-der foot, tell-eth her beads. 
 
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 Copyright, 1890, by Bigelow & Main. Used by permission. 
 26 
 
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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 413 
 
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 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL SPRING TIME. 
 
 Vkrw 
 
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 Expression. \* \ ^ 
 
 1 . Beau - ti - ful Spring-time ! bright, blooming ro - ses, When hope with pleas - ure 
 
 2. Beau - ti - ful Spring-time ! sea - son de - part - ed, When birds were sing - ing 
 
 
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 sweet - ly re - po - ses, Dream -ing of glad - ness when day -light clo - ses, 
 gay and light - heart - ed, Tell - ing of joys when our ear - ly life start - ed, 
 
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 Dreams of the heart when no sor- row was near, Oh ! hap - py days ! we can nev - er for 
 Oh! how those mo-ments have fad-ed a - way! Oh ! blissful hours ! Ave shall ev - er re ■ 
 
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 get thee, Life was too sweet, ev-'ry moment was dear! We wandered at even-ing o'er 
 mem - ber; Sweet was our young life — too sweet to de - cay! We hear the bells chim-ing, when 
 
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 and foun-tain, Thro' for-est and dell, by the swift-gliding stream : We roamed with light 
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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 415 
 
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 BEAUTIFUL SPRING TIME - Continued. 
 
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 step to the mur-mur - ing foun-tain, 'Twas long, long a - go, but it seems a sweet 
 pin - ions with ra - di - ant seem-ing, He leads us at last to the beau - ti - ful 
 
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 dream, Sweet dream, sweet dream, 
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 From " Franklin Square Song Collection, No. 2." By courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothers 
 
 Lively. 
 
 BLOSSOM TIME. 
 
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 Mary E. Dodge 
 
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 1. There's a wedding in the orchard, dear, I know it by the flowers ; They're wreathed on ev'ry 
 
 2. While whispers rang a - mong the boughs of prom - is - es and praise, And play - ful, lov - ing 
 
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 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 BLOSSOM TIME -Continued. 
 
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 bough and branch, or falling down in showers. The air is in a mist, I think, and scarce knows which to 
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 be — Wheth - er all fragrance, cling-ing close, or bird - song, wild and free. And 
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 count-less wedding jew -els shine, and gold -en gifts of grace; I 
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 nev - er saw such 
 know that ho - ly 
 
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 maidens clad in white, The clasping of a thousand hands in ten-der-est de - light. 
 all who love be blest! The earth is wedded to the spring, and God, He knoweth best." 
 
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 know it by the flowers; They' re wreathed on erf ry bough and branch, or falling down in showert, 
 
 From " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 1." By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper <k Brother*. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 417 
 
 THE BRAVE OLD OAK. 
 
 Mastoso. - «, j— 
 
 1. A song for the oak, the brave old oak, Who hath ruled in the greenwood long, Here's 
 
 2. He saw the rare times, when the Christmas chimes Were a mer - ry sound to hear, And the 
 
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 health and re-nown to his broad green crown, And his fif - ty arms so strong, 
 squire's wide hall, and the cot - tage small, Were full] of Christmas cheer. 
 
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 There is fear in his frown when the sun goes down, And the fire in the west fades out; And he 
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 show-eth his might on a wild midnight, When the storms through his branches shout. Then 
 gone, they are dead, in the church-yard laid, But the brave tree, he still re - mains. Then 
 
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 sing to the oak, the brave old oak, Who hath stood in his pride so long; And 
 
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 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE BRAVE OLD OAK - Continued. 
 
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 still flour - ish he, 
 
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 hale green tree, When a hun - dred years arc gone 
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 From " FrankJin Square Song Collection. No. 2." 
 
 By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper A Brothers. 
 
 MONARCH OF THE WOODS. 
 
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 1. Behold the monarch of the woods! The mighty old 
 
 2. How oft the monarch of the woods, Upon a summ 
 
 storm, On land or roll-ing sea; He waves his branches deck'd with green, In summer's golden 
 sport, And 'neath its shadow play; From youth to manhood they spring up, And old age comes at 
 
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 glow, And i - vy clothes his leaf - less form Thro' win - ter's frost and snow : King 
 last, ' Then green grass waves up - on their graves, And all life's dreams are past! Yet 
 
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ARBOR DAY MANUAL. 
 
 419 
 
 MONARCH OF THE WOODS - Continued 
 
 a tempo con spirito. 
 
 
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 Time, the conqueror of all, He bold - ly doth de - fy, For green and hearty will he 
 stronger grows the mighty tree, In hale and heart - y prime, And stands the monarch of the 
 
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 stand When a 
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 ing a g e an( i time. 
 
 Green and heart - y, green and heart - y, 
 Stands the mon - arch of the woods, the 
 
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 heart - y will he stand, When a - ges have gone by, When a 
 mon-arch of the woods, De - fy - ing age and time, De - fy 
 
 
 From " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 5." 
 
 ges have gone by. 
 ing age and time. 
 
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 By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brolhert 
 
 MONTH OF APPLE BLOSSOM. 
 
 Donizetti. 
 Helen Martin. 
 
 1. Ra-di- ant month of beau-ty, Blossoming to the June, Month when e'en joy is du - ty, 
 
 2. Valleys that laugh in brightness, Zephyrs that fan the flowers, Swaying the buds in lightness, 
 
420 
 
 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 MONTH OF APPLE BLOSSOM -Continued. 
 
 Days goby so soon! Hap-py the song-bird's trill -ing, Golden the broom-flower burns; 
 
 Thro' all the leafy bowers, — Maples the hill -side flushing, Yellow of chestnut - bloom, 
 
 Chorus. 
 
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 Welcome the new life thrill - ing Hearts when Spring returns! Month of the ap - pie blos-som. 
 
 Red-buds em-pur-pled blushing : Gone the Winter's gloom. Month of the ap - pie bios - som, 
 
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 Month when the Earth's in tune; Wild flowers bloom in meadows, Singing a mer-ry rune. 
 
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 Vi-ol andharpand flute-note, Swell out the sweet re - frain: " Month of the ap - pie blossom, 
 
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 May-ing we go a - gain! Month of the ap- pie blossom, Maying we go a - gain!" 
 
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 I rum " Frauklin Square Sorjg Collection. No. 1." 
 
 By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothers. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 42 1 
 
 FRAGRANT AIR. 
 
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 1. Fragrant air ev-'rywhere, Blue the sky a-bove; Oh, how sweet on light feet 
 
 2. Wood so wide, verdant pride, Thou my dearest home ; Song and sound, all around, 
 
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 Round about to rove. Zephyrs play with balmy flow-ers, And how charming - ly 
 Call me forth to roam. And in joy and ad -mi - ra-tion, Thus a - long I rove, 
 
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 Mer - ry birds in ver - dant bowers Tune their mel - o - dy. La, la, la, la, 
 
 Prais - ing loud the Lord's ere- a- tion, And His boundless love. La, la, la, la, 
 
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 From "Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 6.'* 
 
 By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothers. 
 
 THE TIME OF THE SINGING OF BIRDS. 
 
 George Barker. 
 
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 The time of the sing-ing of birds is come, The trees 
 A - way in wood- lands wide and deep The shad 
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 are robed in green ; The 
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 of beau-ty steal ; There are 
 
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 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE TIME OF THE SINGING OF BIRDS -Continued. 
 
 
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 flow'rs un - fold theirtints of gold, And the fair pink maybe seen; O'er all the land doth a 
 
 winds that creep where daisies sleep, And the dainty wind-flo w'rs blow. And deep in the heart of the 
 
 hu - man hearts whose bit- ter smarts Its smile hath powerto heal. The time of the singing of 
 
 prom - ise lie, The her - aid of Sum-mer's reign ; 
 dim old woods The sun - beams fair have strayed ; 
 birds is come, And we pause in our wea - ry way, 
 
 At the gold - en beat of her 
 Like shafts of light they have 
 While the sad hearts thrill and the 
 
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 pierced the night By the arch - ing bran - ches made, 
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 breath of the scented May. 
 
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 From " Franklin Square Sode Collection. No. 5." 
 
 By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper A Brother*. 
 
 SONG OF THE MAPLE. 
 
 Lively. 
 
 R. M. Streetkr. 
 Mrs. E. Fitzgerald. 
 
 
 1. Ma - pie, from the leafy wild wood, Where thine early years have sped ; Emblem of our happy childhood, 
 
 2. Infant leaves, unclasp your fingers, Sunshine, kiss their tender palms; Ev'ningwind,as twilight lingers, 
 
 3. On the early-dawning morrow, In the garden-world of care, We must meet the joy and sorrow 
 
 To the past forever fled ; Here, with radiant Spring adorning " Banks and braes " with buds and flow'rs, 
 With our ma - pie in thine arms, S way and sing: "Odews of e-ven, Daily as ye sink to rest, 
 That a -wait our coming there. O brave hearts! when restful e - ven Finds our dai - ly du - ty o'er, 
 
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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 4 2 . 
 
 SONG OF THE MAPLE -Continued 
 
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 We, in life's hope-lighted morning, Leave thee to the sun and showers. Maple, from the happy wildwood. 
 May ye see thatnearer heaven, Grows the nestling on my breast." Maple,fromthehappywildwood, 
 May it find us near-er Heaven Than we were the day be - fore. Maple, from the happy wildwood, 
 
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 Where thine early years have sped , Emblem of our happy childhood, To the past for - ev - er fled. 
 
 From " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 3." 
 
 By Courtesy of Messrs. Harptr & Brothers. 
 
 LOVELY MAY. 
 
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 1. Love - ly May, love - ly May, Decks the world with blos-soms gay; "Come ye all, 
 
 2. Light - ly pass, light - ly pass, Thro' the nod - ding mead - ow grass, Woodlands bright, 
 
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 rnie ye all," 1 hus the flow -ers call. Sparkles now the sun - ny dale, Fragrant is the 
 
 woodlands bright, Wake from winter's night. 
 
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 Where the sil-ver brooklet flows. Rippling soft - ly 
 
 flow - ery vale ; Song of 
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 Lightly row ! Lightly row ! 
 O'er the glassy waves we go ; 
 Smoothly glide ! Smoothly glide ! 
 On the silent tide. 
 Let the winds and waters be 
 Mingled with our melody ; 
 Sing and float ! Sing and float ! 
 In our little boat. 
 
 From '-'- Franklin Square Song Collection, i 
 
 Far away ! Far away ! 
 Echo in the rocks at play, 
 Calleth not, Calleth not, 
 To this lonely spot. 
 Only with the sea-bird's note, 
 Shall our dying music float ! 
 Lightly row ! Lightly row ! 
 Echo's voice is low. 
 
 Lightly row ! Lightly row ! 
 O'er the glassy waves we go; 
 Smoothly glide ! Smoothly glide 
 On the silent tide. 
 Let the winds and waters be 
 Mingled with our melody; 
 Sing and float ! Sing and float j 
 In our little boat. 
 
 By Courtesy, of Messrs. Harper & Brothers. 
 
424 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 SONG OF ARBOR DAY. 
 
 s. j. i'ettings. 
 Jesse Hutchinsok. 
 
 1. We have come with joyful greeting, songs of gladness, voi - ces gay, Teachers, friends and happy 
 
 2. Gen - tie winds will murmur softly, zephyrs float on noiseless wing; 'Mid its boughs shall thrush and 
 
 3. Plant we then throughout our borders, o'er our lands so fair and wide, Treasures from the leafy 
 
 
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 children, all to welcome Arbor day. Here we plant the tree, whose branches warmed by breath of summer 
 
 robin build their nests and sweetly sing. 'Neath its shelt'ring arms shall childhood, weary of the noontide 
 
 for - est, vale and hill and mountain side. Rooted deep, oh, let them flourish ! sturdy giants may they 
 
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 Nourished by soft dews and showers, soon shall wave in leafy sprays. Songs 
 In its cool, invit - ing shadow find a pleasant, safe re - treat. Songs 
 
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 of gladness 
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 And as year by year we gather, glad to 
 
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 put our tasks a - way, May the spring-time ever shower blessings on each Ar-bor Day! 
 
 From " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 3." 
 
 By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brother;., 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 425 
 
 WOODMAN, SPARE THAT TREE. 
 
 Henry Russell. 
 George P. Morris. 
 
 1. Wood - man, spare that treef 
 
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 Touch not a sin - gle bough ; 
 Its glo - ry and re - nown 
 I sought its grateful shade ; 
 Close as thy bark, old friend ! 
 
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 Are spread o'er land and 
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 placed it near his cot, There, woodman, let it stand, 
 not its earth-bound ties; Oh! spare that a - ged oak, 
 fa - ther pressed my hand, For - give this fool - ish tear, 
 woodman, leave the spot; While I've a hand to save, 
 
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 By Courtesy of Messrs. Harper & Brothen 
 
 POLISH MAY SONG. 
 
 Polish Air. 
 
 M5v 1= Viprp trip, wnrld rp . ini - ces : Earth Duts on her smiles to greet her: 
 
 May is here, the world re - joi - ces ; Earth puts on her smiles to greet 
 Birds through ev - 'ry thick - et call - ing, Wake the woods to sounds of glad - ness : 
 Earth to heav'n lifts up her voi - ces; Sky, and field, and wood, and riv - er: 
 
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426 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 POLISH MAY SONG - Continued. 
 
 
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 Grove and field lift up their voi - ces ; Leaf and flow'r come forth to meet 
 
 Hark ! the long - drawn notes are fall - ing, Sad, but pleas - ant in their sad - ness 
 
 With their heart our heart re - joi - ces ; For His gifts we praise the Giv - er. 
 
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 from " Franklin Square Song Collection. No. 1. 
 
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 THE CUCKOO. 
 
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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 427 
 
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 THE CUCKOO -Continued. 
 
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 2 At morn the forest dells are bright, 
 
 With slanted beams of gold, 
 At eve the dim and dewy air 
 
 The growing shades enfold . 
 But moru and eve, repeated slow, 
 The voice is calling, soft and low, 
 Cuckoo, etc. 
 
 3 The pine is fragrant under foot, 
 
 And sweet the spicy air, 
 But still that distant voice allures 
 
 To seek it everywhere ; 
 Now louder, then far off and low, 
 What means it, ever calling so, 
 Cuckoo, etc. 
 
 4 Still distant and unseen, the voice, 
 
 Some happy spirit seems, 
 That beckons us to fairy-land, 
 
 Whose realms we see in dreams, 
 Where never mortal steps may go, 
 Unless it leads them, calling so, 
 Cuckoo, etc. 
 
 5 It is the spirit of the woods, 
 
 That sings, in happy rest, 
 Such quiet and contented notes, 
 
 As suit the forest best ; 
 Its peaceful shades no sound should know, 
 But that sweet song so soft and low, 
 Cuckoo, etc. 
 
 Happy Voices " by permission of Taintor Bros., & Co. 
 
 THE OLD MOUNTAIN TREE. 
 
 JAMES G. CLARK. 
 
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 stood ; And the moss-grown graves where our fathers sleep,'Neath the boughs of the waving 
 passed ; Kind friends are gone, but the old tree stands, Still unharm'd by the warring 
 mirth, And many a form in the church-yard cold, Finds a rest from the cares of 
 
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 earth ; And for many a day when we're far a - way, O'er the waves of the western 
 
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428 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 THE OLD MOUNTAIN TREE- Continued. 
 
 lea, .... Where we once used to play thro' the long, long day In the 
 
 sea,. . . . But we mourn for the shade where the wild bird made Her . . 
 
 sea, There the heart will pine, and . . vain - ly pray For a 
 
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 OH, THE SPORTS OF CHILDHOOD; OR, SWINGING 
 'NEATH THE OLD APPLE TREE. 
 
 Words and Music by 
 
 
 O. R. BARROWS. 
 
 1. Oh, the sports of child - hood ! Roam - ing through the wild - wood, 
 
 2. Sway - ing in the sun - beams, Float - ing in the shad - ows, 
 
 3. Oh, the sports of child - hood 1 Roam - ing through the wild - wood, 
 
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 Running o'er the meadows, Hap - py and free ; But my heart's a - beat - ing 
 Sail - ing on the breez - es, Hap - py and free ; Chas - ing all our sad - ness 
 Running o'er the meadows, Hap - py and free ; But my heart's a - beat - ing 
 
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 For the old time greeting, Swinging 'neath the old apple - tree. Swinging, swinging, 
 Shouting in our gladness, Swinging, &c. 
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ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 429 
 
 OH, THE SPORTS OF CHILDHOOD; OR, SWINGING 'NEATH THE OLD 
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 Swinging, swinging, swinging, swinging, Swinging 'neath the old ap- pie -tree. 
 
 Copyright 1874, by Bigelow & Maiu, and used by permission. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL ARE THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 W. D. GALLAHER-. 
 
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 1. Beau-ti - ful are the mount - ains That tell of the bless - ed 
 
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 3. Val - leys sa - lute the moun - tains, And mountains look down and 
 
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430 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL ARE THE MOUNTAINS - Continued. 
 
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 ■ Sons Wave," by courtesy of D. Appleton & Co., New York. 
 
 THE VIOLET. 
 
 JAMIE BEATTY. 
 
 E. L. DANFOHTH. 
 I. 
 
 j Down in a green and sha - dy bed A mod - est vio - let grew, 
 
 \ Its- stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from (Omit.) view; 
 
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 Where in its grass - y rest - ing-place, The hum - ble vio - let (Omit.) grew ; 
 
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 From "Song Wave," by courtesy of D. Appleton & Co., New York. 
 
 hid - ing there, 
 bloom -ing there. 
 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 431 
 
 WE LIFT OUR TUNEFUL VOICES. 
 
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 1. We lift our tune - f ul voic - es now, In fresh, me - lo 
 
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 While youth-ful eyes with pleasure glow, To see our hap - py throng. 
 D. S. Let waves of cheer- f ul praises flow, From pure hearts un - de - filed. 
 To cheer us on our up - ward way, And prais - es blend with joy. 
 D. 6. Let smiles, which all our fac - es wear, Re - ward your work of love. 
 
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 And, as we send our greet-ing, to The breez - es soft and mild ; 
 Our teachers kind, whose constant care We hon - or and ap - prove ; 
 
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 THROUGH THE LOVELY VALE.* 
 
 H. S. PERKINS. 
 
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 from an adjacent room, softly. (The appogiaturas, or small notes, may be omitted). 
 
 From " Song Wave," by courtesy of D. Appleton & Co., New York. 
 
432 
 
 ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 :h 
 
 THROUGH THE LOVELY VALE - Continued. 
 
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 loved one be - side us to join in the song, Oh, the 
 
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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 433 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 J. H. KISSINGER. 
 
 
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434 
 
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 SPRING. Concluded 
 
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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 435 
 
 IN THE EARLY SPRING-TIME. 
 
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 ARBOR DA V MANUAL. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL MAY. 
 
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ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
 
 437 
 
 BEAUTIFUL MAY. Concluded. 
 
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 "75*- 
 
 From " Song Prize/' by per. of Publisher, The W. W. Whitney Co., Toledo, O. 
 
(general Index. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Acorn and chestnut 207 
 
 Acorn, Little Mrs. M. H. Huntington So 
 
 Acorn, The pebble and the Mrs. Gould 15 
 
 Acrostic, Arbor day E. C. Delano 307 
 
 Age of trees 1 yo 
 
 Al Fresco Lowell 232 
 
 All things beautiful C. F. Alexander 184 
 
 All yellow 22 
 
 Almanac, Our Aldrich 33 
 
 Among the trees Bryant 284 
 
 Antiquity of freedom Bryant 282 
 
 Anxious leaf, the Beecher 52 
 
 Apple tree grows, How an 335 
 
 Apple tree, Planting of the Bryant 19 
 
 Apple tree, Under the Elizabeth A. Allen 108 
 
 April Shakspeare 144 
 
 April Jessie McDermott 157 
 
 April Whittier 239 
 
 April and May Celia Thaxter 120 
 
 April day, An Longfellow 149 
 
 Arbor day S. S. Short 191 
 
 Arbor day 210 
 
 Arbor day 301 
 
 Arbor day Warren Higley 306 
 
 Arbor day 311 
 
 Arbor day 323 
 
 Arbor day 351 
 
 Arbor day acrostic E. C. Delano 307 
 
 Arbor day and the children E. E. Higbee 323 
 
 Arbor day, For George Adams 204 
 
 Arbor day, Hail ! Lizzie D. Roosa 202 
 
 Arbor day, how observed in various States 329 
 
 Arbor day invocation Emma S. Thomas . . 348 
 
 Arbor day invocation Parr Harlow 349 
 
 Arbor day, its educating influence B. G. Northrop 300 
 
 Arbor day march Ellen Beauchamp 352 
 
 Arbor day music (See " Index to Music ") 381 
 
440 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 I'AGE. 
 
 Arbor day ode Parr Harlow 205 
 
 Arbor day poem Anna R. Pride 27 
 
 Arbor day poem Lillian E. Knapp 80 
 
 Arbor da}', The use of 296 
 
 Arbor day tribute , Tared Barhite 347 
 
 Arbutus Elaine Goodale 9 
 
 Arbutus Anne Hail 14S 
 
 Arbutus 2S9 
 
 Arbutus, The trailing Rose Tern* Cooke S4 
 
 Arbutus, The trailing Whittier 216 
 
 Arbutus, Trailing — The May flower Goodwin 261 
 
 Aspen 302 
 
 Aspen, Legend of the 163 
 
 Autumn leaves T. W. Higginson 181 
 
 Autumn leaves, The 59 
 
 Autumn voices 16 
 
 Awakening Year, The Read 45 
 
 Beautiful, All things C. F. Alexander ... 184 
 
 Beautiful things 62 
 
 Beautiful trees A. L. R 311 
 
 Beech, The purple 1S7 
 
 Beech tree's petition, The Campbell 200 
 
 Belated Whittier 368 
 
 Best trees and vines, The W. J. Milne 347 
 
 Bible, Trees of the W. H. Groser 24S 
 
 Birch tree, The Mrs. A. V. McMullen 209 
 
 Birch tree, The Lowell 304 
 
 Bird, If I were a 310 
 
 Bird songs . Kathie Moore 265 
 
 Bird trades 172 
 
 Birds, A flock of Annie Chase : 182 
 
 Birds and the children, The E. T. Sullivan 167 
 
 Birds choose the maple Susan F. Cooper 206 
 
 Birds in Summer ' Mrs. Hemans 100 
 
 Birds' nests 277 
 
 Birds, The return of the Bryant 259 
 
 Bluebell, The 79 
 
 Blossoms, Elm 113 
 
 Blossoms, Orchard Mrs. Hemans 258 
 
 Blossoms, Peach Mrs. Gould 103 
 
 Blossoms, Wild thorn Julian S. Cutler 2S9 
 
 Blue bird, The.. C. F. Gerry 77 
 
 Blue bird, The John Burroughs 297 
 
 Blue bird's song, The .• 71 
 
 Blushing maple tree, The 236 
 
 Boat song Scott 1S9 
 
 Bobolink, The 96 
 
 Bolehill trees , Montgomery 2S7 
 
GENERAL INDEX. 44 Y 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Boy that stole apples, The 253 
 
 Breathings of Spring Mrs. Hemans 15S 
 
 Briar-bloom Elizabeth A. Allen 2S2 
 
 Bring flowers Mrs. Hemans 190 
 
 Brown thrush, The Lucy Larcom 60 
 
 Building of the ship, The Longfellow 257 
 
 Buttercup, A K. C S9 
 
 By summer woods 162 
 
 California's giant trees 272 
 
 Calling them up George Cooper 2S3 
 
 Cherry ripe Kate L. Brown 106 
 
 Chicago, The historic tree of 217 
 
 Child and tree E. A. Holbrook 161 
 
 Children in the wood, The Thomas Percy 30S 
 
 Children's Arbor day march E. A. Holbrook 34S 
 
 Children's praise song W. B. Downer 352 
 
 Children, The Longfellow 19S 
 
 Child to a rose, A 163 
 
 Clematis Dora Read Goodale 269 
 
 Chorus of the flowers Lucy Wheelock 174 
 
 Choosing a State Tree 123 
 
 Class tree, The Em ma S. Thomas 351 
 
 Come to the forest 74 
 
 Concert, Mr. Spring's ■ • . 3S1 
 
 Consecration, Song of E. A. Holbrook 299 
 
 Convention of Michigan trees, A 3*3 
 
 Corn, A grain of 143 
 
 Corn, Trees of 9 1 
 
 Cottonwood trees, 'Neath the Mrs. B. C. Rude 277 
 
 Counsel, The old man's Bryant 256 
 
 Country, An invitation to the Bryant 237 
 
 Cunning old crow, The 175 
 
 Cutting off the forests Warren Higley 3°5 
 
 Daffy-down-dilly 66 
 
 Daffy-down-dilly, Ready for duty 146 
 
 Daisies, Dance of the Sarah M. B. Piatt 2S0 
 
 Daisy fair — Motion song Annie Chase 57 
 
 Daisy, The Mrs. B. C. Rude 264 
 
 Daisy, The 379 
 
 Daisy, To a mountain Burns 121 
 
 Dandelion, Dear Laura D. Nichols 107 
 
 Dandelion, The "6 
 
 Dandelion, The young Mrs. Craik 155 
 
 Dandelion, To the Lowell 244 
 
 Dear elm, it is of thee • 3 22 
 
 Dedication, Song of Ellen Beauchamp 34S 
 
 Destruction of the forests 3 DI 
 
442 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Discontent Sara O. Jevvett 141 
 
 Discourse on trees, A Beecher 324 
 
 Dreamer and reaper, The Rev. J. H. Ecob 12 
 
 Dream of summer, A Whittier 236 
 
 Dryads, The meeting of the Holmes ... 17 
 
 Early Spring Thomson i5r 
 
 Echo L. V. Hall 87 
 
 Effects of Spring Wilson 183 
 
 Elm blossoms. 113 
 
 Elm, The H. H. B 208 
 
 Elm tree, My Rebecca D. Rickoff 49, 
 
 Elm, Under the old Lowell 238 
 
 Elm, Under the Washington Holmes 140 
 
 Elm versus apple . May Riley Smith 162 
 
 Evergreen, The unfading 46 
 
 Eve's lamentation Milton 105. 
 
 Fair tree Lady Winchelsea 279 
 
 Fallen monarch, The I . H. Bromley 259 
 
 Fall fashions 74 
 
 Fall song 35 
 
 i/ Famous and curious trees 27s 
 
 Fern, The petrified Mary L. B. Branch 201 
 
 Fields in May, The W. Allingham 119 
 
 First flowers, The Whittier 234 
 
 Fir tree, The Luella Clark 230 
 
 Flock of birds, A Annie Chase 182 
 
 Flower mission, The = 7 
 
 Flower of liberty Holmes 43 
 
 Flower of the desert, The Mrs. Hemans 279 
 
 Flower, The Tennyson 172 
 
 Flower, The national Lucy Larcom 157 
 
 Flowers ' . Longfellow 155 
 
 Flowers and foliage 140 
 
 Flowers, Chorus of the Lucy Wheelock 174 
 
 Flowers, Hymn to the Horace Smith 176 
 
 Flowers of the May 233 
 
 Flowers, Old-fashioned Ethel Lynn 180 
 
 Flowers, The marriage of the S. H. M. Byers 142 
 
 Flowers, The race of the , 47 
 
 Flowers, The use of Mary Howitt 63 
 
 Foolish little robin 86 
 
 Foreign lands 40 
 
 Forest flowers Frankenstein 215 
 
 Forest hymn, A Bryant 4 
 
 Forest, In a Southey 65 
 
 Forest scene, A Edith May 247 
 
 Forests, Cutting off the Warren Higley 30$ 
 
GENERAL INDEX. ^, * 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Forests, Destruction of the 301 
 
 Forest silence 306 
 
 Forest song, A W. H. Venable 41 
 
 Forest trees, Life's , Ella Wheeler Wilcox 85 
 
 Forest trees, The Eliza Cook 3 
 
 Forest, The storm in the Mrs. Gould 104. 
 
 Forest, Thoughts on the 10 
 
 Forest, Voices of the Longfellow 2S9 
 
 Forget-me-not 320 
 
 Forgiveness J. Edmondston 130 
 
 Forward, march! 55 
 
 Four sisters, The. . . 32 
 
 Freedom, Antiquity of Bryant 282 
 
 Freedom's flower Marian Douglas 264 
 
 Funeral tree of the Sokokis, The Whittier 139 
 
 Garden on the sands, The 112 
 
 Gingerbread tree, The Harriet P. Spofford 195 
 
 Gladness of nature, The Bryant 147 
 
 God provideth for the morrow 40 
 
 God's love ... 74 
 
 God's wisdom and power 104 — ~" 
 
 Golden rod 47 
 
 Golden rod Elaine Goodale 265 
 
 Golden rod, Lady Carrie W. Bronson 139 
 
 Golden rod, The Eva J. Beede 51 
 
 Golden rod, The 115 
 
 Golden rod, The Hopestill Goodwin 252 
 
 Good-bye, Winter C. S. Stone 177 
 
 Grain of corn, A 143 
 
 Grass Edgar Fawcett 6 
 
 Grass and flowers, A soul in Lowell 1 7S 
 
 Grass, The voice of the Sarah Roberts 38 
 
 Green things growing Mrs. Craik 64 
 
 Growth Emily J. Bugbee 203 
 
 Hail, Arbor Day ! Lizzie D. Roosa 202 
 
 Hemlock tree, The ... . Longfellow 171 
 
 Hiawatha, The story of Longfellow 220 
 
 Historical trees — Told in rhyme Lizzie M. Hadley 135 
 
 Historic tree of Chicago, The 217 
 
 Historic trees E. C. Delano 294 
 
 Holiday, A new George William Curtis 211 
 
 Holly tree, The Southey 83 
 
 Home by the warm Southern sea, A Mrs. B. C. Rude 231 
 
 How an apple tree grows 335 
 
 How the leaves came down Susan Coolidge 198 
 
 How to make a whistle 85 
 
 Hymn Whittier 234 
 
aaa GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Hymn, A forest . Bryant 4 
 
 Hymn, A woodland Phebe A. Holder. . 122 
 
 Hymn in praise of the natural world Ellen Beauchamp 350 
 
 Hymn to the flowers Horace Smith 176 
 
 If I were a bird 310 
 
 In a forest Southey 65 
 
 In praise of trees Spenser 262 
 
 Inscription for the entrance to a wood Bryant ; 246 
 
 In the swing Eudora S. Bumstead 101 
 
 Invitation to the country, An Bryant 237 
 
 Invocation Parr Harlow 349 
 
 Ivy green, The . . Dickens .... 5S 
 
 Ivy, The Henry Burtbn. 199 
 
 Jack-in-the-pulpit Whittier 50 
 
 Joy of Spring ■ Leigh Hunt 166 
 
 Kind old oak, The 1 
 
 Kind words 14 
 
 Lady golden rod Carrie W. Bronson 139 
 
 Landing of the pilgrims Mrs. Hemans 69 
 
 Last dream of the old oak tree Hans C. Andersen 131 
 
 Leaf, The anxious Beecher 52 
 
 Leaf, The story of a Rebecca D. Rickoff 65 
 
 Leaves, Autumn T. W. Higginson 1S1 
 
 Leaves came down, How the Susan Coolidge 19S 
 
 Leaves, The 173 
 
 Leaves, The autumn 59 
 
 Legend of the aspen 163 
 
 Lesson of the leaves 37 
 
 Letters: 
 
 Carleton, Will 366 
 
 Curtis, George William 357 
 
 Dawson, N. H. R 370 
 
 Draper, A. S 371 
 
 Emerson, Edward W 369 
 
 Fernow, B. E 360 
 
 Headley, J. T 365 
 
 Holmes, O. W , 369 
 
 Longfellow, Alice M 369 
 
 Lossing, Benson J 366 
 
 Lowell , James Russell 369 
 
 Mitchell, Donald G 367 
 
 Morton, J. Sterling 357 
 
 Murray, David 35S 
 
 Northrop, B. G 359 
 
 Parkman, Francis , 365 
 
 Peaslee, John B 370 
 
GENERAL INDEX. **c 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Liberty, Flower of Holmes 43 
 
 Liberty tree, The Thomas Paine 56 
 
 Life in its spring time E. A. Holbrook 106 
 
 Life's forest trees Ella Wheeler Wilcox 85 
 
 Lilac, The Clara Doty Bates 303 
 
 Lines Whittier 235 
 
 Little acorn Mrs. M. H. Huntington 80 
 
 Little birdie 165 
 
 Little brown seed in the furrow Ida W. Benham 67 
 
 Little by little 18S 
 
 Little pine tree, The Eudora S. Bumstead 278 
 
 Little planter, A ill 
 
 Little things 217 
 
 Live oak, The Henry R. Jackson . 145 
 
 Lodge, The Scott 179 
 
 Longing, A summer George Arnold 118 
 
 Lost May, The Taylor 261 
 
 Love of nature, The Wordsworth 194 
 
 Madrona, The • F. M. Somers 263 
 
 Magnolia-grandiflora C. P. Cranch 138 
 
 Maiden Spring, The 24 
 
 Maple Thos. D. English 302 
 
 Maple, Birds choose the Susan F. Cooper 206 
 
 Maple-tree, Song to the E. A. Holbrook 206 
 
 Maple-tree, The blushing 236 
 
 Marriage of the flowers, The S. H. M. Byers 142 
 
 Mary and her pet squirrel 109 
 
 May Wm. G. Park 89 
 
 May Clarke , 151 
 
 May 186 
 
 May Eben E. Rexford 276 
 
 May, A song for Eben E. Rexford 164 
 
 May day ... Emma A. Opper 105 
 
 May flower, The (Trailing Arbutus) Goodwin ... 261 
 
 May, Flowers of the 233 
 
 May morning Milton 3 2 
 
 May morning Eliza L. Sproat 53 
 
 Ma}- morning, A 290 
 
 May morning lesson, A 265 
 
 May queen, The Tennyson 192 
 
 May song, A l8 ° 
 
 May song, A... Anna M. Pratt 36S 
 
 May. The lost Taylor 261 
 
 May, The return of Mrs. Hemans 36 
 
 May to April Philip Freneau 172 
 
 May, Waiting for the J 8 
 
 May, Welcome to 2 99 
 
 Meeting of the Dryads, The Holmes 17 
 
446 
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Merry spring 1S0 
 
 Michigan trees, A convention of 313 
 
 Midsummer Trowbridge 44 
 
 Midsummer Abbie F. Judd 2S1 
 
 Mondamin Taylor 255 
 
 Month of May 94 
 
 Monument of trees, A J. P. McCaskey 312 
 
 Morning glory seed. The story of Margaret Eytinge 86 
 
 Mother earth, A song for J. H. Kellogg 23 
 
 Motion song — Dais)' fair Annie Chase. 57 
 
 Mountain and the squirrel, The Emerson 94 
 
 Mountain daisy, To a Burns 121 
 
 Mr. Spring's concert ' 112 
 
 Music, Arbor day (See " Index to Music ") 381 
 
 My elm-tree Rebecca D. Rickoff. 49 
 
 My home in the wildwood 202 
 
 Myself Harriet E. Arey 310 
 
 My tree < 102 
 
 Naming the tree Mrs. B. C. Rude 114 
 
 National flower, The Lucy Larcom 157 
 
 Nature Pope 164 
 
 Nature, The gladness of Bryant 147 
 
 Nature, The love of Wordsworth 194 
 
 Nature's temple David Vedder 197 
 
 Nature, Tribute to Mary A. Heermans 351 
 
 'Neath the cottonwood trees Mrs. B. C. Rude 277 
 
 Now is the time 177 
 
 Oak and the mistletoe seed, The 1 17 
 
 Oak of our fathers, The Southey 95 
 
 Oak, Plant the Mrs. A. V. McMullen 320 
 
 Oak, The George Hill 8 
 
 Oak, The Mrs. E. Oakes Smith S^ 
 
 Oak, The Montgomery 167 
 
 Oak, The Lowell 196 
 
 Oak, The kind old 1 
 
 Oak, The live Henry R. Jackson 145 
 
 Oak tree, The 2 
 
 Oak tree, The Mary Howitt 56 
 
 Oak tree, The last dream of the old Hans C. Andersen 131 
 
 Oaks, The J.C.Johnson 235 
 
 Ode to the trees Maggie M. Welsh 274 
 
 Old proverbs, A few x "9 
 
 Old-fashioned flowers Ethel Lynn 180 
 
 Old man's counsel, The Bryant 256 
 
 Old tree, The 4S 
 
 Old wood, The Hugh Kelso 35Q 
 
 Olive tree, The Mrs. Hemans 283 
 
GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 447 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Olive trees of Palestine SS 
 
 Orchard blossoms Mrs. Hemans 25S 
 
 Orchard, The 31 
 
 Our almanac Aldrich 33 
 
 Our duty here Sir J. Bowring 169 
 
 Our willows 11S 
 
 Palm and the pine, The Taylor 9S 
 
 Palms, Under the George William Curtis 214 
 
 Palm tree, The Whittier 29S 
 
 Patriots' password, The Montgomery 99 
 
 Peach blossoms Mrs. Gould 103 
 
 Pebble and the acorn, The Mrs. Gould 15 
 
 Petrified fe»n, The Mary L. B. Branch 201 
 
 Pine needles Wm. H. Hayne 139 
 
 Pine, The spirit of the Taylor 92 
 
 Pine tree academy, The V. E. Scharff 16S 
 
 Pine tree, The Ruskin 253 
 
 Pine tree, The little Eudora S. Bumstead 278 
 
 Pine tree, To a Lowell 7S 
 
 Pilgrims, The landing of the Mrs. Hemans 69 
 
 Plant a tree Lucy Larcom 21 
 
 Planted 42 
 
 Planter, A little m 
 
 Planting for the future Harriet B. Wright 129 
 
 Planting of the apple tree Bryant 19 
 
 Planting the tree E. P. Waterbury 352 
 
 Plant the oak Mrs. A . V. McMullen 320 
 
 Plant worship 76 
 
 Poetry, The spirit of Longfellow...' 152 
 
 Popular poplar tree, The Blanch W. Howard 35 
 
 Praise song, Children's , . . . W. B. Downer 352 
 
 Pretty rose tree, The 3 j 
 
 Programs, Specimen (See Specimen Programs) 337 
 
 Proverbs, A few old 1 -jg 
 
 Pruning trees H. R. Sanford 297 
 
 Purple beech, The 187 
 
 Pussy and the poppies 30 
 
 Pussy willow 236 
 
 Put flowers in your window 290 
 
 Quotations — a class exercise 70 
 
 Race of the flowers 47 
 
 Ready for duty — Daffy-do%vn-dilly 146 
 
 Reaper, The dreamer and the Rev. J. H. Ecob 12 
 
 Resurgam S. S. Short 90 
 
 Return of May, The Mrs. Hemans 36 
 
 Return of Spring Taylor 107 
 
44 8 
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Return of the birds, The Bryant 259 
 
 Rhodora, The Emerson 303 
 
 River's supplication, The Burns 271 
 
 Robin and chicken 36 
 
 Robin, Foolish little S6 
 
 Robin red-breast E. A. Mathers ... 164 
 
 Robin red-breast's secret 166 
 
 Robin's come 39 
 
 Robin, The Whittier 219 
 
 Robin told, What George Cooper 269 
 
 Rock a-bye baby, on the tree top 309 
 
 Rose 269 
 
 Rose, A child to a : 163 
 
 Roses Edgar Fawcett .* 54 
 
 Rose, Song of the Mrs. Browning 200 
 
 Roses, Two little Julia P. Ballard . . . , 97 
 
 Rose, The Moore 1S9 
 
 Rose, The sweet red Joel Stacy 269 
 
 Rose tree, The pretty 87 
 
 Scripture selections on trees 249 
 
 Seasons, The Katie D. Walster 169 
 
 Seasons, The M. E. N. Hatheway 175 
 
 Secret, The 1 
 
 Seed, The 209 
 
 Seed word 189 
 
 Sermon from a thorn-apple tree Emily H. Miller 216 
 
 Shade-tree planting association J. L. Bagg 347 
 
 Ship, The building of the Longfellow 257 
 
 Shut your cattle in. Mrs. B. C. Rude 254 
 
 Silence is golden 128 
 
 Sing a song to me 184 
 
 Soliloquy of Douglas — Solemnity 9 
 
 Somebody's Knocking. 102 
 
 Song for May, A Eben E. Rexford 164 
 
 Song for tree-planting Sara J. Underwood 349 
 
 Song of consecration .... E. A. Holbrook 299 
 
 Song of dedication Ellen Beauchamp 348 
 
 Song to the maple tree E. A. Holbrook 206 
 
 Song,of the rose Mrs. Browning 200 
 
 Song to Mother earth, A J. H. Kellogg 23 
 
 Song, The blue bird's 71 
 
 Song to the trees '. J. W. Miller 270 
 
 Soul in grass and flowers, A Lowell 178 
 
 Spare the trees Madame Michelet 21S 
 
 Specimen programs : 
 
 Clyde, N. Y 340 
 
 Elmira, N. Y 338 
 
 Illinois 337 
 
GENERAL INDEX. ^g 
 
 Specimen progams — Continued: PAGE 
 Mohawk, N. Y. 339 
 
 New York State. 
 
 341 
 
 Port Henry, N. Y., iSSS 369 
 
 Port Henry, N. Y., 18S9 357 
 
 St. Augustine, Fla 3_jo 
 
 Watertown, N. Y 33S 
 
 Spice tree, The John Sterling 73 
 
 Spirit of poetry, The Longfellow 152 
 
 Spirit of the pine, The Taylor 92 
 
 Spring Henry Timrod 61 
 
 Spring Longfellow 156 
 
 Spring Mrs. M. M. Dodge 165 
 
 Spring Celia Thaxter 177 
 
 Spring. ... Thomson ... 197 
 
 Spring and summer 22 
 
 Spring, A walk in Montgomery 2S1 
 
 Spring, Breathings of Mrs. Hemans 15S 
 
 Spring, Early Thomson 151 
 
 Spring, Effects of Wilson 1S3 
 
 Spring flowers 119 
 
 Spring is coming .... 1S1 
 
 Spring, Joy of Leigh Hunt 166 
 
 Spring, Merry 1S0 
 
 Spring morning Moir 153 
 
 Spring pointing to God Bruce 150 
 
 Spring, Return of Taylor 107 
 
 Spring's concert, Mr 112 
 
 Spring song Jessie Norton 1S4 
 
 Spring song Kate Hawthorn 202 
 
 Spring, The maiden 24 
 
 Spring-time 3 2 S 
 
 Spring-time is coming 21S 
 
 Spring-time, The Lily Rutherford 165 
 
 Spring, The voice of Mrs. Hemans S2 
 
 State tree, Choosing a • 123 
 
 Storm in the forest, The Mrs. Gould 104 
 
 Story of a leaf. The Rebecca D. Rickoff 65 
 
 Story of Hiawatha, The Longfellow 220 
 
 Story of the morning-glory seed Margaret Eytinge . . S6 
 
 Summer, A dream of Whittier . 236 
 
 Summer longing, A George Arnold nS 
 
 Sunbeam, The Mrs. Hemans ' no 
 
 Sunrise on the hills Longfellow 154 
 
 Sunset '. Taylor 91 
 
 Sunshine 2 33 
 
 Swallows sing?— What is the song the H. B. Smith 193 
 
 Sweet red rose, The Joel Stacy 269 
 
 "Swino-, In the Eudora S. Bumstead 101 
 
 "29 
 
, - GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Talking in their sleep Edith M. Thomas 34 
 
 Talks on trees Holmes 266 
 
 They've cut the wood away 147 
 
 Thorn-apple tree, A sermon from a Emily H. Miller 216 
 
 Thoughts on the forest 10 
 
 To a mountain daisy Burns 121 
 
 To a pine tree Lowell 78 
 
 Tongues in trees Shakspeare 262 
 
 To the dandelion Lowell 244 
 
 Trailing arbutus, The Rose Terry Cooke S4 
 
 Trailing arbutus, The Whittier 216 
 
 Trailing arbutus — The May flower Goodwin 261 
 
 Tribute to nature Mary A. Heermans 351 
 
 Tree burial Bryant 2SS 
 
 Tree fair Lady Winchelsea 279 
 
 Tree, My 102 
 
 Tree, Naming the Mrs. B. C. Rude 114 
 
 Tree of state, The .. Mrs. B. C. Rude 160 
 
 Tree, Plant a Lucy Larcom 21 
 
 Tree planting M. F. Butts 75 
 
 Tree planting, Song for Sara J. Underwood 349 
 
 Tree, Planting the. E. P. Waterbury 352 
 
 Tree that tried to grow, The Francis Lee 113 
 
 Tree, The Bjornson 176 
 
 Tree, The Jones Very , 237 
 
 Tree, The class Emma S. Thomas . . 351 
 
 1 ree, The gingerbread Harriet P. Spofford 195 
 
 Tree, The historic, of Chicago 217 
 
 Tree, The liberty Thomas Paine 56 
 
 Tree, The oak Mary Howitt 56 
 
 Tree, The old 4& 
 
 Tree, The popular poplar Blanch W. Howard 35 
 
 Tree, The wonderful r 59 
 
 Tree, Under the greenwood Shakspeare 91 
 
 Tree, Words from the Conway 26 
 
 Trees — A class exercise 6§ 
 
 Trees, A convention of Michigan 3*3 
 
 Trees, A discourse on Beecher 324 
 
 Trees, Age of I "° 
 
 Trees, Among the Bryant 284 
 
 Trees, A monument of J. P. McCaskey 312 
 
 Trees and vines, The best W. J. Milne 347 
 
 Trees, Beautiful A. L. R 3U 
 
 Trees, Bolehill Montgomery 2S7 
 
 Trees, California's giant 2 7 2 
 
 Trees, Famous and curious 2 "5 
 
 Trees, Historic Edward C. Delano 294 
 
 Trees, Historical, told in rhyme Lizzie M. Hadley 135 
 
GENERAL INDEX. * r j 
 
 I'AGE. 
 
 Trees, How to plant, — what to plant U.S. Department of Agriculture, 353 
 
 Trees in a city Alice B. Neal 245 
 
 Trees, In praise of Spenser 262 
 
 Trees, Ode to the Maggie M. Welsh 274 
 
 Trees of corn 91 
 
 Trees of history and mythology. F. L. Sheldon 291 
 
 Trees of the Bible W. H. Groser 24S 
 
 Trees Professor Wilson 321 
 
 Tree's, record of its life, A 293 
 
 Trees, Song to the J. W. Miller 270 
 
 Trees, Spare the Madame Michelet 21S 
 
 Trees, The forest Eliza Cook 3 
 
 Tulip tree, The Taylor 260 
 
 Twig that became a tree, The 73 
 
 Two little roses Julia P. Ballard 97 
 
 Under the apple tree Elizabeth A. Allen 10S 
 
 Under the greenwood tree Shakspeare 91 
 
 Under the old elm Lowell 23S 
 
 Under the palms George William Curtis 214 
 
 Under the Washington Elm Holmes 140 
 
 Under the willows .* Lowell 241 
 
 Unfading evergreen, The 46 
 
 United Helen F. O'Neill 141 
 
 Use of Arbor day, The 296 
 
 Use of flowers, The Mary Howitt 63 
 
 Vine and the oak, The 46 
 
 Violet, The . Lowell 230 
 
 Violet, The wild Mrs. Gould 144 
 
 Voice of the grass, The Sarah Roberts 3S 
 
 Voice of Spring, The Mrs. Hemans 82 
 
 Voices of the forest. . . Longfellow 2S9 
 
 Voices of the night Longfellow 1S5 
 
 Waiting for the May iS 
 
 Waiting to grow 130 
 
 Walk in spring, A Montgomery 2S1 
 
 Washington elm, Under the Holmes 140 
 
 Welcome to May 299 
 
 What do we plant ? Henry Abbey 322 
 
 What is the song the swallows sing? H. B. Smith 193 
 
 What robin told . . Geo. Cooper 269 
 
 When the apple blossoms stir 276 
 
 When the green gets back in the trees J. W. Riley 72 
 
 Whistle, How to make a S5 
 
 Wild thorn blossoms Julian S. Cutler 289 
 
 Wild violet, The Mrs. Gould 144 
 
 Wild wood, My home in the 202 
 
. - » GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 40- 
 
 PAGE . 
 
 Willow, Pussy. 336 
 
 Willow tree, The Eliza Cook 30 
 
 Willows, Our "8 
 
 Willows, Under the Lowell 241 
 
 Winter, Good-bye C. S. Stone 177 
 
 Wonderful one-hoss shay, The Holmes Si 
 
 Wonderful tree, The 159 
 
 Wood, Inscription for the entrance to a Bryant 246 
 
 Wood, The old Hugh Kelso 350 
 
 Woodland hymn, A Phebe A. Holder 122 
 
 Woodland in spring, The Cowper 148 
 
 Woodman, spare that tree Morris 28 
 
 Woodman, spare that tree, History of poem '. 29 
 
 Woods, By summer *62 
 
 Words from the tree Conway 26 
 
 Wordsworth, To O. F. Emerson 191 
 
 Yew, The Bryant 138 
 
 Young Timothy and the forget-me-nots Estelle Thomson 99 
 
 Young dandelion, The Mrs. Craik 155 
 
Index to ^Jusk. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Advent of Spring 407 
 
 Apple Tree, Swinging 'Neath the Old 42S 
 
 Arbor Day 381 
 
 Arbor Day, Song of 424 
 
 Arbor Day Tribute 386 
 
 Beautiful are the Mountains 429 
 
 Beautiful May 436 
 
 Beautiful Spring Time 414 
 
 Blest Spring Time.. 402 
 
 Blossom Time 415 
 
 Blue Bird 387 
 
 Brave Old Oak, The • 417 
 
 Cuckoo, The 426 
 
 Fragrant Air 421 
 
 Gay Little Dandelion 401 
 
 Hymn of Praise 387 
 
 If Ever I See 389 
 
 In the Early Spring Time 435 
 
 Lovely May 423 
 
 Maple, Song of the 422 
 
 March for the Children 398 
 
 Monarch of the Woods 418 
 
 Month of Apple Blossom 419 
 
 Nature's Tribute Suggests Ours 385 
 
 Oh, the Sports of Childhood 428 
 
 Old Mountain Tree 427 
 
 Polish May Song 425 
 
 Pretty Little Blue Bird 434 
 
 Protect us Through the Coming Night 407 
 
 Roaming 396 
 
 Robin, The 404 
 
 Singing of Birds, The Time of the 42 1 
 
 Soft and Sweet the Zephyrs Sigh 396 
 
 Song of the Maple. ... 422 
 
 Sports of Childhood, Oh, the 428 
 
454 
 
 INDEX TO MUSIC. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Spring 433 
 
 Spri ng Song, A 3S9 
 
 Spring Time : 437 
 
 Swinging 'Neath the Old Apple Tree 428 
 
 Through the Lovely Vale 431 
 
 Time of the Singing of Birds, The 421 
 
 Violet, The 43° 
 
 We Greet Thee, Merry Spring Time 393 
 
 Welcome Spring, The 4°6 
 
 Welcome to the Forest 393 
 
 We Lift Our Tuneful Voices 43 1 
 
 What the Little Things Said .- 395 
 
 Woodman, Spare that Tree 425 
 
Index to ^utbops. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Abbey, Henry _ _ 322 
 
 Adams, George. 204 
 
 Aldrich, T. B 33 
 
 Alexander, C. F 1S4 
 
 Allen, Elizabeth A 108,150, 282 
 
 Allingham, W 119 
 
 Andersen, Hans Christian 131 
 
 Arey, Harriet E . 310 
 
 Arnold, George . 11S 
 
 Arnold, S. J 97 
 
 Bagg, J. L. ...'.. _. 347 
 
 Ballard, Julia P 97 
 
 Barhite, Jared 347 
 
 Bates, Clara Doty 303 
 
 Beattie 209 
 
 Beauchamp, Ellen 322, 348, 350 
 
 Beecher, H. W - 52,273, 324 
 
 Beede, Eva J 51 
 
 Benham, Carrie W 139 
 
 Benham, IdaW _ 67 
 
 Bjornson 176 
 
 Blackmore, Sir R 246 
 
 Bowring, Sir J_ _ • 169 
 
 Branch, Mary L, B 201 
 
 Bromley, I. H._ 259 
 
 Brown, Kate L 106 
 
 Browning, Mrs 200 
 
 Bruce 150 
 
 Bryant 4, 19, 39, 42, 66, 138, 147, 217, 237, 240, 246 
 
 256, 259, 271, 278, 282, 284, 288 
 
 Bugbee, Emily J 203 
 
 Bui wer-Ly tton . 303 
 
 Bumstead, Eudora S_ 106, 278 
 
 Burns _ in, 121, 271 
 
 Burroughs, John 297 
 
 Burton, Henry 199 
 
 Butts, M. F 75 
 
 Byers, S. H. M 143 
 
 Byron 64, 194, 2S8 
 
 Campbell 95, 200, 302 
 
 Cary, Alice 72, 246 
 
 Cary, Phcebe 85, 320 
 
 Cary, S. F 190 
 
 Chase, Annie ---38, 183 
 
 Chaucer 276 
 
 Clarke 151 
 
 Clark, Luella 230 
 
 C lodia 164 
 
 Coleridge 134 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Congrevc. 100 
 
 Conway, M. D 26 
 
 Cook, Eliza ... j, 30 
 
 Cooke, Rose T» a 84 
 
 Coolidge, Susan 198 
 
 Cooper, George 269, 283 
 
 Cooper, Susan F _ 128, 206 
 
 Cowper ._ 103, 148, 195, 231 
 
 Craik, Mrs _ 64, 155 
 
 Curtis, George W 211, 214 
 
 Cutler, Julian S 289 
 
 Delano, E. C 294, 307 
 
 Dickens 58 
 
 Dodge, Mrs. M. M 165 
 
 Douglas, Marian 264 
 
 Downer, W. B 352 
 
 Draper, A. S 342, 343 
 
 Dryden _ 281 
 
 Dyer 304 
 
 Ecob, Rev. J. H 12 
 
 Edmondston, J 130 
 
 Eliot, George 268, 273 
 
 Emerson. R. W 94, 303 
 
 Emerson, O. F 191 
 
 English, T. D 302 
 
 Eytinge, Margaret 86 
 
 Fawcett, Edgar 6, 54 
 
 Finch, F. M 84 
 
 Flanders, Mrs. G. W 290 
 
 Frankenstein, G 215 
 
 Freneau, Philip 172 
 
 Gerry, C. F 77 
 
 Goethe 25 
 
 Goodale, Dora Read 269 
 
 Goodale, Elaine 9, 256 
 
 Goodwin, Hopestill 252, 261 
 
 Gould, Mrs. H. F 16, 103, 104, 144 
 
 Gray -129, 173 
 
 Groser, W. H 249 
 
 Hadley, Lizzie M 138 
 
 Hall, Anne 148 
 
 Hall, L. V 87 
 
 Harlow, Parr._ 205, 349 
 
 Hatheway, M.E.N 175 
 
 Hawthorn, Kate 202 
 
 Hayne, Wm. H 139 
 
 Heermans, Mary A 351 
 
45 6 
 
 IXDEX TO AUTHORS. 
 
 Heine -- 
 
 Hemans, Mrs 36, 69, 82, 100, m, 159, 190, 
 
 279, 
 
 Higbee, E. E 
 
 Higginson. T. W - 
 
 Higley, Warren 3°5> 
 
 Hill, George 
 
 Holbrook, E. A 106, 161, 206, 299, 
 
 Holder, Phebe A - 
 
 Holmes, O. W 17, 43i 8l » I 4°. 264, 
 
 Howard, Blanch W 
 
 Howitt, Mary 5 6 , 6 3. 
 
 Hunt, Leigh 24, 25, 166, 258, 
 
 Huntington, Mrs. M. H 
 
 Irving 
 
 1 1 r 
 258 
 
 306 
 
 Jackson, Helen Hunt . 
 
 Jackson, Henry R 
 
 Jacobs, Sarah S 
 
 Jewett, Sara O 
 
 Johnson, J. C. 
 
 Judd, Abbie F 
 
 Juvenal 
 
 25 
 
 146 
 247 
 
 141 
 235 
 
 Keats 
 
 Kellogg, J. H 
 
 Kelso, Hugh. 
 
 Knapp, Lillian E -- 
 
 Larcom, Lucy - 21, 34, 60, 
 
 Lee, Francis - 
 
 Longfellow 149, 152, 154, 155, 156, 161, 17T, 
 
 198, 220, 257, 2S9, 
 
 Lowell 37, 7 8 > x 7 8 . '9 6 . 230, 232, 234, 238, 
 
 245, 
 Lynn, Ethel - - --- 
 
 Mann, B. P 
 
 Marsh, Geo. P.. 29, 
 
 Mathers, E. A -- 
 
 May, Edith 
 
 McCaskeyJ. P - 
 
 McDermott, Jessie 
 
 Michelet --- 
 
 Miller, Emily H 
 
 Miller, J. W__ - 
 
 Milne, W. J - 
 
 Milton 105, 148, 201, 232, 
 
 256, 
 
 Mitchell, D. G --- 
 
 McMullen, Mrs. A. V 209, 
 
 Moir - - 
 
 Montgomery, James 99, 167, 280, 
 
 Moore, Kathie -- - 
 
 Moore, Thomas 87, 101, 189, 280, 
 
 Morris, Geo. P . 
 
 Neal, Alice B n, 245 
 
 Neal, John n 
 
 Nichols, Laura D 107 
 
 Northrop, B. G - 3 01 
 
 Norton, Jessie 184 
 
 O'Neill, Helen F.... 141 
 
 Opper, Emma A... - 105 
 
 Pabodie, Wm. J 10 
 
 Park, Wm. G 89 
 
 Peaslee, JohnB 306 
 
 301 
 241 
 
 3°4 
 
 213 
 164 
 
 218 
 
 216 
 270 
 347 
 235, 
 287 
 
 239 
 320 
 
 153 
 287 
 265 
 283 
 28 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Percy, Thomas 308 
 
 Piatt, Sarah M. B 280 
 
 Pope 100, 164, 181, 187 
 
 Pratt, Anna M 368 
 
 Pride, Anna R 27 
 
 Read,T. B_ 45 
 
 Rexford, E. E 164, 276 
 
 Rickoff, Rebecca D 49, 65 
 
 Riley, J. W 72 
 
 Roberts, Sarah 38 
 
 Roosa, Lizzie D 202 
 
 Rude, Mrs. B. C 114, 161, 231, 254, 264, 277 
 
 Ruskin, John 253 
 
 Rutherford, Lily 165 
 
 Sanford, H. R .._, 297 
 
 Scharff, V. E 168 
 
 Scott 78, 179, 189, 247 
 
 Shakspeare 45,91, 144, 197,259, 262 
 
 Sharpe, May E 25 
 
 Sheldon, F. L 293 
 
 Short, S. S 90, 191 
 
 Smith, Alex no 
 
 Smith, Mrs. E. Oakes 8 
 
 Smith, Harry B 193 
 
 Smith, Horace . 176 
 
 Smith, May Riley 162 
 
 Somers, F. M 263 
 
 Southey 65, 83, 95 
 
 Spenser 262 
 
 Spofford, Harriet P 195 
 
 Sproat, Eliza L 53 
 
 Stacy, Joel _ 269 
 
 Sterling, John 73 
 
 Stone, C. S 177 
 
 Sullivan, E. T 167 
 
 Taylor, Bayard 91, 92, 98, 107, 256, 260, 261 
 
 Tennyson 122, 192, 260, 263 
 
 Thaxter, Celia . . 120, 177 
 
 Thomas, Edith M 34, 321 
 
 Thomas, Emma S -348, 351 
 
 Thomson ",67, 151, 197, 254 
 
 Thomson, Estelle - 99 
 
 Timrod, Henry 61 
 
 Tinsley, Mrs. Charles 186 
 
 Trowbridge, J. T_ ' 44 
 
 Underwood, Sara J 349 
 
 Venable, W. H - . 41 
 
 Vedder, David 197 
 
 Very, Jones 237 
 
 Virgil 309, 310 
 
 Walster, Katie D 169 
 
 Waterbury, E. P 352 
 
 Watts _ 9 
 
 Welsh, Maggie M 274 
 
 Wheelock, Lucy 174 
 
 Whittier._5i, 139, 216, 219, 234, 235, 236, 239, 298, 368 
 
 Wilcox, Ella W 85 
 
 Wilson 183 
 
 Wilson, Professor 321 
 
 Winchelsea, Lady _ 279 
 
 Wordsworth 149, 156, 194, 213, 219, 274 
 
 Wotton, Sir Henry 10 
 
 Wright, Harriet B 129 
 
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