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THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM.

The Natural History
of the Farm

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

By JAMES G: NEEDHAM

0''

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

ITHACA, xN. Y.

THE COMSTOCK PUBLISHING COMPANY

19 16

CYBELE

Spirit of th' raw and gravid earth
Whenceforth all things have breed and birth,
From palaces and cities great
From pomp and pageantry and state

Back I come with empty hands

Back imto your naked lands.

— L. 11. Bailey.

BY THE

COMSTOCK PUBLISHING COMPANY

PRESS OF W. F. HI.-MPHREY. GENEVA, N.

PREFACE.

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

A series of studies for the entire year is offered in the
following pages. Each deals with a different phase of the
life of the farm. In order to make each one pedagogically
practical, a definite program of work is outlined. In order
to insure that tlie student shall have something to show for
his time, a definite form of record is suggested for each
practical exercise. In order to encom-age spontaneity, a
ntmiber of individual exercises are included which the student
may pursue independently. The studies heie offered are
those that have proved most useful, or that are most tv]^ ical,
or that best illustrate field-work methods. ^^^^^ ^^
enough work in some of them for more than sJ^^/^^^np :

6 HISTORY OF I-ARM

many of thcin will bear rc'itclilion with new materials, or in
new situations. li^aeh one includes a brief introductory
sUitcment to be read, and an outline of work to be i)CTf<)nned.
In all of them, it is the doing of the work outlined- not the
mere readin.i^ of the text— that will \-ield satisfactor\' educa-
tional results.

The work of this course is not new. Mucli work of this
.sort has been done, and well done, as nature-stud>', in\arious
institutions at home and abroad. But here is an attempt to
intcj^atc it all, and to show its relation to the sources of our
livinj,'. So it is the natural history, not of the whole range of
things curious and interesting in the world, but of those things
that humankind has elected to deal with as a means of liveli-
hcx^d and of personal satisfaction in all ages.

These are the tilings we have to live with: they are the
things we ha\'e to li\e b\-. They feed us and shelter us and
clothe us and wann us. They equip us with implements for
manifold tasks. They endow us with a thousand delicacies
aiul wholesome comforts. They unfold before us the cease-
less drama of the e\'cr-changing seasons — the informing
drama of life, of which we arc a part. And when, in our rude
fanning o])erations, we scar the face of nature to make fields
and houses and stock pens, they oiler us the means whereby,
though changed, to make it green and golden again— a fit
enviromnent wherein to dwell at peace.

In the belief that an acquaintance with these things would
contribute to greater contentment in and enjoN'ment of the
farm surroundings and to a better rural life, this course was
yircpared. The original suggestion of it came from Director
L. H. Bailey of the New York State College of Agriculture.
It was first given in that college by me in cooperation with
Mrs. J. II. Comstock. To both these good naturalists, and
to all thos.' who ha\'e hel] ed me as assistants, I am greatly
indebted for valuable .suggestions.

J.\.\Ii:S Ci. XliEDHAM.

CONTENTS

Preface .
Contents

page 5
. " 7

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

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

2. The wild fruits of the farm ^^ 16 ^^ ^^ 2 ^^ ^^

3. The wild nuts of the farm ^^ 24 ^^ ^^ 3 „ ^"

4. The farm stream ^^ 32 ^^ ^^ 4 ,, 4

5. The fishes of the farm stream .,46^^ ^^ 5 ^^ 4°

6. Pastureplants - f « " " 7 " 62

7. The wild roots of the farm ^^ g ^, ,^ 7 „ ^;f

8. The November seed-crop ,. ,< « « ^a

9. The deciduous trees in winter ^^ 71 ,, „ 9 ,, /o

10. The farm wood lot ^^ 77 ,, ,, ^^ „ 79

11. The fuel woods of the farm ^^ «i ^^ ,, Ji „ °"

12. Winter verdure of the farm ^^ 90 ^, ,. ^^ ^^ y^

13. The wild mammals of the farm ... ^^ 96 ^^ ^, i3 ^, J""

14. The domesticated mammals ^^105 ^^ ^^ 14 „ ^^

15. The fowls of the farm ^/I3 ^, ,, J5 ,, J^V

16. Farm landscapes 121 10 ^

Individual exercises for the Fall Term (Optionals)

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

2. Noteworthy views of the farm ^^ 128

3. Noteworthy trees of the farm ,^ 125

4. Autumnal coloration and leaf fall ^, 132

5. A calendar of seed dispersal ^^ 33

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

17. The lay of the land : page 137. with study i7onpage 141

18. The deciduous shrubs of the farm ]] 143 ,^ i» H7

1 9 . Winter activities of wild animals . . ^ ^ 150 ^ ^

20. Fiber products of the farm || I55 ^^

21. A coating of ice \^ 164 ^^

22. Maple sap and sugar .•••., ^^ ,<

23. Nature's soil conserving operations ^^ I75 ^^

24. The passing of the trees ^^ 180 ^^

25. The fence row ^, 186 ^^

26. A spring brook ^9^

19 154

20 " 162

21 " 166

22 " 172

23 " 179

24 " 148

25 " 190

26 - 193

OF THH

1-ARM

i. 195 wi til

study

27on

paK^e 202

' 205 "

" 207

' 208 "

" 212

•213 "

.¥)

" 216

' 219 "

" 221

* -^23 "

" 226

• NATl-RAL HISTORY

97. Nature's offerings for spring f)lanting p

28. A cut-over wocxl-l.ind thicket ....

29. Wilt! spring fltiwcrs of tlie fanii . . .

30. What goes on in the ai^ple lilos.snnis

31. The song birds of the fann

32. The early .summer landscape ....

Individual Exercises for the Spring Term (Optionals)

6. A c.ilendar of bird return page 228

7. A calendar of spring growth " 229

8. A calendar of spring flowers " 229

9. .\«)teworthy wild flower beds of the farm " 230

10. Noteworthy flowering shrubs of the farm " 230

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

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

34. The clovers "237 " " 34 " 241

35. Wild aromatic herbs of the fann. . . " 243 " " 35 " 250

36. The trees in summer " 252 " "36 " 254

37. Weeds of the field " 257 " " 37 " 263

38. Summer wild flowers " 264 " " 38 " 267

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

40. Insects molesting farm animals .. "274 " " 40 " 279

41. Out in the rain " 281 " " 41 " 283

42. The vines of the farm " 285 " "42 " 290

43. The swale "291 " " 43 " 295

44. The brambles of the farm "296 " " 44 " 300

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

46. The little brook gone dry "307 " " 46 " 311

47. Swimming holes "312 " " 47 " 315

48. Winding roads "316 " " 48 " 319

Individual Exercises for the Summer Term (Optionals)

1 1. A grass calendar page 32 1

12. A calendar of summer wild flowers, " 322

13. A calendar of bird nesting " 323

14. Best crops of the farm " 324

15. A corn record " 325

Outdoor Equipment page 326

i"^^'^ ::.:.;::;::;: 333

I. MOTHER EARTH

"Brother, listen to what we say. There vjas a time when our forefathers
oivned this greit land. Their seits extended from the rising to the setting
sun. The Great Spirit had made it for the use of the Indians. He had
created the buffalo and the deer and other animals for food. He had made
the hear and the be iver. Their skins served us for clothing. He had
scattered them over the country and had taught us how to take them. He
had caused the earth to produce corn for bread. All this he had done for
his red children because he loved them.''

— "P* om the g'-e-it oration of "Red Jacket," the Seneca Indian, on The Religion of
the White Man and the Red.

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

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

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

Library
H. C, State CoUeg©

,0 NATURAL HISTORY OF Till-: FARM

and shears were of steel. Their chief dependence for food
was placed in cereals and vegetables whose seeds they brought
\nth them from across the seas. Their social habits were
those of a peoj^le that had long known the arts of tillage and
husbandry: their ci\-iIizalion was based on settled homes.
But they brought with them into the wilderness only a few
wea|X)ns, a few tools, a few seeds and a few animals, and for
the balance and continuance of their living they relied upon
the bounty of the woods, the waters and the soil.

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

Today you live largely on the products of the labors of
others. You get your food, not with sickle and flail and
spear, but with a can-opener, and you eat it without even an
inkling of where it grew. So many hands ha\-e intervened
between the getting and the using of all things needful, that
some factory is thought of as the source of them instead of
mother earth. Suppose that iii order to realize how you have
lost connection, you step out into the wildwood empty-
handed, and look about }'OU. Choose and say what }'ou will
have of all you see bcf(ire you for your next meal? Where
will you find your next suit of clothes and what will it be like?
Ah, could you even im^^rovisc a wrap])ing, and a string with
which to tie it, fn^m what wild nature offers you?

These are degenerate days. One h;ul to know things in
order to live in the days of the pioneer and the Inrlian. But

MOTHER EARTH ii

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

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

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

12 N.Vl TRAL HISTORY OF rm> \'-\^<^^

jur race, and that is still fumhuncntal to a
^'<xxl education, and that contributes largely
lo one's enjoNinent of liis ow-n environment.

The Ixst place to begin is near home. Any
large fann will furnish opportunities. It is
'he object of the lessons that follow to
help you fmd the wild things of the farm
that arc most nearly related to your perma-
nent interests, and to get on speaking terms
with them. Vou will be helped by these
studies in proportion as your own eyes see
and >-our own hands handle these wild
things. The records you make will be of
value to you only as you wTitc into them
your own experience: \ATite nothing else.

Suggestions to students : The regular held
work contemplated in this course makes
certain demands with which indoor labora-
tor>' students may be unfamiliar. A few
suggestions may therefore be helpful:

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

2. As to clothes: Wear such as are
strong, ])lain and comortable. There are
thorns in nature's garden that will tear thin
stuffs and reach out after an>-thing detach-
able; and there are burs, that will cling
persistently to loose-woven fabrics. Kid
gloves in cold weather and high heels at all

Fig. 1. Metric and
English linear mL-asure.

MOTHER EARTH

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

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

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

5. As to poison ivy (fig. 2) :
Unless you are immune, look
out for it : a vine climbing by
aerial roots on trees and fences,
or creeping over the ground.
Its compound leaves resemble fig. 2. Poison ivy.
those of the woodbine, but

there are five leaflets in the woodbine, and but three in
poison ivy. Lead acetate (sugar of lead) is a specific antidote
for the poison; a saturated solution in 50% alcohol should
be kept available in the laboratory. It is rubbed on the
affected parts — not taken internally, for it also is a poison.
If used as soon as infection is discoverable, little injury
results to the skin of even those most sensitive to ivy poison.
After lesions of the skin have occurred, through neglect to
use it promptly, it is an unsafe and ineffective remedy ; a
physician shoiild then be consulted.

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

14 NATURAL HISTORY OF Till- FARM

seeds, studied in the lielil. will be very desirable. You will
want to take another l<K)k at them after you get baek; so
preiKirc to take them liome, where \-()U can sit at a table and
work with them. A bag or a basket will hold, besides tools, a
lot of stout envelopes, for keeping things a])art. with labels
and necessary data \\Titten on the outside.

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

There are three classical manuals for use in the eastern
United States and Canada, that have hcl]:)ed the naturalists
of several generations. These are Gray's Manual of Botany,
Jordan's Manual of the Vertebrates and Comstock's Manual
for the Studv of Insects. There are two great cyclopedias,
both echted bv Professor L. H. Bailey— The American
Cvclopechas of Horticulture and of Agriculture. There arc
manv lxx)ks of nature-study, but most useful of them all is
Mrs.' Comstock's Handbook of Nature-Study. The best
single bird book is Chairman's Handbook of North American
Birds. A new book that will help toward acquaintance
with aquatic plants and animals is Nccdham and Lloyd's
Life of Inland Waters. All these should be accessible on
reference shelves.

"Note — At Cornell University the field tool that is fur-
nished to classes for individual use is a sharj) brick-layer's
hammer weighing about a pound. It is not heavy enough
to be burdensome, and it is ada])table to a great variety of
u.ses, such as digging roots, cracking nuts, stripping bark,
s]jlitting and s]jlintering kindling, ])lanting seedlings, etc. A
light hatchet will ser\'e man\-, but not all of these uses.

MOTHER EARTH 15

Study 1. A General Survey of the Farm

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

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

II. THK WIl.I) i-RlITS OF THI-: IWRM

"Thr mandrakes jfitr <j smell, and at our f^ates are all manner of pleasant
fruits, nrtc and old. which I h<irr I tid up for thee, O my beloved."

— The Song of J"olomon. 7:13.

The bounty of nature is never more fully ai)i)rcciatc(l than
when \vc sec a tree bearing a load of luscious fruit. A tree
that lias been green, like its fellows, suddenly bursts into a
glow of color, and begins to exhale a new and pleasant fra-
grance as its product rijK^is. The bending boughs disclose
the richness and abundance of its gift to us.

Among nature's delicacies there are none so generally
agreeable and refreshing as her fruits. They possess an
infinite variety of fla\'ors. Before the da}'s of sugar-making,
they were the chief store of sweets. They ever>'where fulfill
an important dictar>' function, both for man and for many of
his animal associates.

All fruits were once wild fruits. Most of them exist today
quite as they came to us from the hand of nature. A few have
been considerably improved by selection and care. But none
of them has been altered in its habits. They grow and bloom
and bear and die as they did in the wildwood.

They have their seasons, the same seasons that the market
obserAxs. First come the strawberries, breaking the fast of
winter's long barrenness. What wonder that our Iroquois
Indians celebrated the ripening of the fragrant wild straw-
berries by a great annual festi\-al ! Then come the currants
and the raspberries and the cherries and the builalo-berries
and the mulberries and the plums and many others in a long
succession, the season ending with the grapes, the a]^])les. the
cranberries and the persin^mons.

The wild fruits ha\'e their requirements also as to climate,
soil, moisture, etc.. and these we must obser^x if wc culti\'ate

WILD FRUITS OF FARM 17

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

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

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

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

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

l8 XATIRAL HISTORY OF T!IH FARM

small and seedy kinds, that ha\ e been hardy enough to hold
their owti, in spite of mowing and grazing and clearing.
They compare ]:)oorly\\4th the selected and cultivated pro 1-
ucts of the fruit farm. Yet many of them once served our
ancestors for food. Collectively they were the sole fruit
supply of the aboriginal inhabitants of our country. The
Indians ate them raw, stewed them, made jam, and even
jellies. They dried the wild strawberries, blueberries, rasp-
berries and blackberries, and kept them for winter use. They
expressed the juice of the elderberry for a beverage : indeed,
the black-berried elder they used in many ways; it was one

of their favorite fruits. And even
as the crows eat sumach berries
in the winter when better fruits
are scarce, so the Indians boiled
them to make a ^\'inter beverage.
The cultivated fruits are but a
few of those that nature has offered
us. We have chosen these few on
account of their size, their quality, and their ])roductive-
ness. We demand them in quantity, hence they must either
be large or else be easily gathered. Some, like the June-
berry, are sweet and palatable, but too small and scattered
and hard to pick. The wild gooseberry is a rich and luscious
fruit, but needs shearing before it can be handled. The
quantitative demands of our appetite, the qualitative de-
mands of our palate and the mechanical limitations of our
fingers have restricted us to a few, and having learned how to
successfully manage these few, we have neglected all the
others fc:)r them.

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

WILD FRUITS OF FARM

Fig. 4. Diagrams of
and
stone fruit, (b).

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

Wild fruits, like the cultivated, fall chiefly
in three categories: core fruits (pomes),
stone fruits (drupes), and berries. The
structural differences between pome and
drupe are indicated in the accompanying
diagram. The apple is the typical core
fruit (^omw5 = apple; whence, pomology).
The seeds are contained in five hardened
capsules (ripened carpels), together forming
the core, surrounded by the pulp or flesh of
the apple, which is mostly developed from
the base of the calyx. The calyx lobes
persist at the apex of the apple, closed p^^^ f^^i^- («)•
together above the withered stamens and
style tips. The plum is a typical stone fruit: the single
seed is enclosed in a stony covering that occupies the
center of the fruit and is surrounded by the pulp. The
term berry is used to cover a number of structural types
which agree in little else than that they are small fruits with
a number of scattered seeds embedded in the pulp.

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

than a plentiful supply of wild
fruits through the summer
season. Who that has seen
orioles pecking wild straw-
berries or robins gormandizing
on buffalo-berries or waxwings

Pig. 5. Wild chokecherry (PrawM5 5^.?) cfn'-r>-rvincr a mnnnffli-n fl^Vl ran
and nannyberry (Viburnum lentago). StHppmg 0, mOUUXam asn, Cdn

EDIHLI-:

WILD FRUITS

Name

Kind of Plant'

Type of Fruit'

No.
Seeds

Cluster of PruiU

1. Crab Apple

2. Ihiwthorn

3. Mountain Ash

4. Wild Cherry

5. Chokft hirry

•

f), Xannybt-rry

7. Spicelnish

8. Hackbern.'

0. \Vii,i Crape

10. ]{Mcri)crry

11. Harbcrry

12. ^'cwbcrry

l.'i.

14.

'Tree, shrub, vine, etc. -Pome, drupe, berry, etc.

^Dimensions in millimeters.

•Diagram.

OF THE FARM

Proportion of
Pulp

Used for What'

Taste

Animals
eating it^

Remarks

iLeave blank unless you have personal knowledge.
^Specify whether foraging on it or living within it.

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

doubt it ? Their tastes have a wider range than ours. Wax-
wings Hke cedar berries, and crows eat freely the fruit of
poison i\'y. The close-growing habit of wild bush fniits
gives congenial shelter and nesting sites, also, to many of
the smaller birds.

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

Study 2. Edible WUd Fruits
Program — The first part of this
study is a comparative examination
of the wild fruits of the farm. The
fruits are to be sought in nature, ex-
amined carefully one at a time, and
their characters are to be WTitten in
the columns of a table prepared with
headings as indicated in pp. 20 and
'' 21. The fruits named in the first

cI;S:.t-,Iu':Z\t:Vl^e column are those commonly found
SloSrw^ife^hi.;? wl^"y': about Ithaca, N. Y., in autumn.
Earlier in the season, or in another
region, the list would be very different.

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

WILD FRUITS OF FARM

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

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

III. Till:: MTS 01- Till: 1 ARM

"The iiuld ^uidu'ife's weel-hoordet nils
Arc round an' round divided."

—Robert Bums (Uallow-een).

Nature ]>uU up some of her ]oroducts in neat packages for
keepini:. Anionj^ the choicest of them, preserA'ed in the
neate-^t and most sanitar}^ of containers, are the nuts. Rich in
proteins and fats, finely flavored, and with a soft appetizing
fra^ance. these strongly appeal to the palate of man and
man\- of his animal associates. Squirrels and other rodents
and a few birds gather and store them for winter use. In
pioneer days hogs were fattened on them. It was a simple
process: the hogs roamed the woods and fed on the nuts
where they fell. And it is credibly claimed that bacon of
surpassing flavor was obtained from nut-fed hogs. In earlier
days the Indian, who had no butter, found an excellent sub-
stitute for it in the oil of the hickories. He crushed the nuts
with a stone and then boiled them in a kettle of water. The
shells sank to the l:K>ttnm; the oil floated, and was skimmed
from the surface.

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

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

NUTS OF THE FARM

Pig. 7. The pig-nut hickory (Hickoria glabra) ; the whole nut, a cross section of
same, and the nut in its hulls (after Mayoj.

occup}^ space in the comer of the barnyard or in the fencerow,
and there, reHeved of competition, shows what it can do in the
way of producing large and regular crops. But the nuts are
wild. There has been but little selection for improved varie-
ties and little scientific culture of nut-bearing trees. When
we consider the abundance and value of their product, the
permanence of their occupation of the ground, the slight cost
in labor of their maintenance, and the conservation of the soil
which they promote, this neglect of nut crops among us seems
unfortunate.

Two families of plants furnish most of our
valuable nuts: the hickory family and the
oak family. The former includes the more
valuable kinds of nuts; besides true hickories,
these are pecans, butter-nuts and walnuts.
In all these there is a bony shell, enclosing
the four-lobed and wrinkled edible seed.
The oak family includes besides the acorns
(few of which are valuable as human food)
the chestnuts, the filberts, the hazels and the
beech nuts. In these there is a horny shell
tions^of^twc^typefof euclosiug the smooth but compact seed.
wSSnonipfu- Certain other members of the oak family, as
nufw^thfoir^vate ^^^ hombcams, produce nuts that are too
**"^- small to be worthy of our consideration as

NATL KAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

<>>-

■*?

^i^^

u-/

■.->-

>l^

t^'v

Fig. 9. The hazel nut (Corylus atnericanits) ;
and a kernel in the half -shell (after Mayo).

nuts in thf hull,

food. A tow stray members of other families produce
edible nuts. Those of the linden are very well flavored,
although minute. Those of the wild lotus of the swamps are
very palatable and were regularly gathered by the Indians
for food. They resemble small acorns in size and shape.
Then there are nuts of large size and promising appearance
that are wholly inedible. Such are the horse-chestnut and
the buckeye, which contain a bitter and narcotic principle.
Certain nuts of large size and fine quality, like the king
hickor>', ha^'e not found much popular favor, because their
shells are thick and close-fitting. They are hard to crack and
the kernels are freed with much difficulty. Such selection as
has been practiced with Persian walnuts and pecans is in the
direction of thin, loose-fitting shells.

Nuts are unusually well protected dur-
ing development by hard shells and thick
hulls of acrid flavor; yet they have not
escaped enemies. Wormy nuts are fre-
quent. The most important of the
"wonns" living inside the hulls and feed-
ing on the kernels are the larvos of the
nut-weevils. These are snout-beetles

Fir. 10. Leaf outline , ,. , . , ^ j

and nutlets of the unden. that live exclusivcly upoH nuts and are

NUTS OF THE FARM

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

Fig. 11. The chestnnt-weevil (Balaninus proboscideus) :
fl, adult; 6, same, from side-female; c, head of male, with
its shorter beak; d, eggs; e, larva; /and g, pupa from front
and from the side (from Bureau of Entomology of the
U. S. Department of Agriculture).

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

I Height
Name ' Kind of Plant« j^ feet^

Shellhark Hickory

Pignut

Bittemut

Butternut

Walnut

Chestnut

Beechnut

Hazelnut

White- ( >:ik

Chestnut Oak

Red Oak

Linden

Buckeye

PLANTS PRODUCING
LEAVES

Form'

Size*

Margin'

Tree, shrub, f)r herb.

Muill, ai)])r()xiniatc.

Diagram.

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

WILD NUTS AND ACORNS.

NUTS: Character of

Hulls

Shells

Kernel

Animals
eating it^

Quality*

^ Specify whether foraging on it or Hving within
' Palatability, oiliness, starchiness, acridity, etc.

3© NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

from the egg finds there a ready-made passage do^^^l to
its food. The larvae have done their destructive work when
the nuts fall . They are full-gro\\'n and are ready to leave the
nuts and enter the ground, there to complete their trans-
formations. An easy way to get the lan^ae, and at the same
time to learn the extent of their infestation, would be to
gather a few cjuarLs of chestnuts or acorns freshly fallen from
the trees, :uui put them in glass jars to stand awhile. The
lar\'ae ea\'ing the nuts (emerging through remarkably
small holes which they gnaw through the shell) will descend
to the bottoms of the jars and remain there, where readily
seen. They will begin to emerge at once, and iu less than a
fortnight all will be out, and may be counted. These, and
twig-pruners and bark-beetles, etc., all have Lu be reckoned
with in the orchard where nuts are cultivated. In this study
we will gn\-e our attention to the nuts, noting the infesting
animals only incidentally.

Study 3. The Nuts of the Farm

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

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

NUTS OP THE FARM 31

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

The record of this study will consist in:

1 . A table prepared with column headings as indicated on
pages 28 and 29, and filled out from the study of the speci-
mens.

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

(a) A butternut or walnut.

(b) A hickory nut or pecan.

(d) A beechnut or chestnut.

(e) A linden nutlet.

r\'. THE FARM STREAM

"All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; uuto the place
Jrom 'ivhetice the rivers come, thither they return again."

— Ecclesiastes 1:7.

There was a time when the streams of our "well-watered
country" were more highly prized than now. They were
storehouses of food. They were highways of travel. They
were channels of transportation. Several things happened to
divert interest landward. The good timber along the valleys
was all cut and there were no more logs to be floated down-
stream to mill. The American plow was invented, making
possible the tillage of vastly increased areas of ground.
More cereals c(3uld be grown and more forage for cattle. The
fishes of the streams became less necessary for food; and
\vith the phenomenally rapid increase of population which
followed, the fishing failed. It became easier and cheaper to
raise cattle for food than to get it by fishing. Then came the
railroads, providing more direct and speedy transportation
and travel; and the streams were abandoned. Indeed,
what happened to them was worse than neglect. The regu-
larity of their su])ply of water was interfered with as the water-
holding forest cover was destroyed and springs dried u]).
They became dumping places for the refuse of all sorts of
establishments along their banks. Not even their beaut\' was
cared for — their singular beauty of mirroring surfaces and
sinuous banks of broad bordering meadows, backed by
wooded headlands. The pioneer was not so blind to the
grander beauties of nature. Go through the country and
mark where the first settlements were made. You will find
them not far from the waterside, but situated where the ample
beauties of land and water, hill and vale, are spread out to
view. Our predecessors would not have been satisfied with a

THE FARM STREAM ' 33

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

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

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

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

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

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

THK PLANT LIFE OF THE STREAM

The rapids
are by no means
destitute of life.
Given natural
^IV~^ i^ Py r^^ 1^ waters, a tem-

perature above
freezing, light
and air, plants
will grow any-
where : here,
they must be
such plants as
can withstand
the shower of
stones that every
flood brings
down upon them.
They must be
simpl>- Drganized j^lants, that are not killed when their cell
masses are broken asunder. Such plants are the algae ; and
these abound in the swiftest waters. They form a thin
stratum of vegetation covering the surfaces of rocks and tim-
bers. Its prevaiHng color is brown, not green. Its dominant
plants are diatoms. These form a soft, gelatinous, and xoxy
slippery coating over the stones. Individually they are too
small to be recognized without a microscope, but collec-
tively, by reason of their nutritive value and their rapid
rate of increase, they constitute the fundamental forage
sui iply for a host of animals dwelling in the stream bed with
them.

There are green algec also in the rapids. The most con-
si)icuous of these is Cladophora, which grows in soft trailing
masses of microscopic filaments, fringing the edges of stones in

Fig. 12. Spray of riverweed (Potamogeton crispus)
Frnm a drawing by Miss Emmcline Moore.

THE FARM vSTREAM

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

In quiet waters covering muddy shoals
the vegetation is richer and more varied.
The dominant plants are seed plants.
Some of these (such as are shown in Figs. 1 2
and 13) grow wholly submerged. A few grow
rooted to the bottom, but have broad
leaves (Fig. 14) that rest upon the surface.
A few small plants (Fig. 15) float free upon the surface in the
more sheltered openings. And there are many rooted in the

Fig. 13. Leaf-form
in three common sub-
merged plants whose
leaves grow in whorls
surrounding the stem
at the nodes: a, the
common water-weed
(Elodea canadensis or
Philotria canadensis) ;
6, the water horn-
wort {Ceratophyllum
denr'rsum); c, the
water milfoil {Myruy-
phylLum).

Fig. 14. Outlines of four common kinds of floating leaves: a, the floating river-
weed (Potantogeton natans) ; b, the spatter-dock (Nymphcea advena) ; c, the white water-
lily {Caslaillia odorataj; d, the water shield {Brasenia peltata).

NATIR.M. HISTORY OF THE FARM

Pig. 1'». Floating plants: a. duckweeds;

mud at the bottom, that
stand erect and emer-
gent with their tops
above the water. A
few of the more strik-
ing and characteristic
1 6. Algae are common

b. the floating liverwort {Ricciocarpus natatis).

of these are sho^^Tl in Figure
enough here also. Bro\\ii coatings of diatom ooze over-
spread the submerged stems, and flocculent green mats
of "blanket algae" lie in sheltered openings, often buoyed to
the surface on bubbles of oxygen.

THE ANIMAL LIFE OF THE STREAM

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

These larv'ae spin at-
tachment threads by f,g. le. Aquatics that rise from standing

means of which they may ^.h^s;;:.c'^flJ^u?o""^;?,JS■,;f;";^'hi bSi
change location. The j-<n»«5^^«i;'^""-^-'Mmi;<(.thc cat-taU

THE FARM STREAM 37

thread is exuded at the mouth (as a
liquid which hardens on contact with the
water), attached to the stone and spun
out to the desired length. The larva, with th^hiack^&y'^tsimuiiuml
disc loosened, swings free upon the thread,
reversed in position and hanging with head upstream.
After a time it will fasten itself by its sucker again. By
using a very short thread and its sucker alternately, the
larva may move short distances over the supporting surface
in a series of loopings, its position being reversed at each
attachment in a new place. Black-fly larvae are excellent
food for fishes, but they live for the most part in places that
are to fishes wholly inaccessible. They feed upon micro-
scopic organisms and refuse adrift in the stream, and they
gather their food out of the passing current by means of a pair
of fan-like strainers, located on the front of the head near the
mouth. Adiilt black-flies of certain species bite fiercely in
northern forests. Other species, known as "buffalo-gnats"
and "turkey-gnats", are important pests of live stock. Other
species are harmless.

In the same situations with the
black-fly larvae, the neat little food-
traps of the seine-making caddis-worms
may always be found. Each is a little,
transparent, funnel-shaped net, half an
Fig. 18. Diagram of a inch wide. Opening always upstream,
Sn?apjfr?tus and'Til and tapcHng downward into a silken
thl^diVe^Aiorof ?he^?urrent tubc, lodgcd in somc sheltering crevice,

over the stream bed ; a, the -^ . i,* 1 ii • i mi u

front edge of the distended iH which the grccmsh, gill-beanng

watir ^iJ^strainldrl the caddis-worm that makes it dwells.
mes&the^'bJtfom of the Then thcrc is a group of diverse in-

"oor^ftttuir^in which scct larvac found habitually in the

the larva dwells, in the „ • j i • • x j. j.i a.

shelter of the rock, d. (After rapids clmgmg to stoucs, that agree
Mi^HceA.'NoyS"^^'^ in being flattened and more or less

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

limpct-shapcd. Two of these are sliown in
^ Figure i<;. In all of them flaring margins
^•S of the body fit down closely to the stone and
V^ deflect the water, so that it presses them
J^ against their sui)]X)rt.

In still water the deep pools are the

Pic. 19. Two

in«H:t hirvae that spccial homc of thc larger fishes. We shall

stick to stones m ^ ^

rapidwatrr: a. the rctum to thcm in thc next study. In the

flat nmc- tuctle

^ui'-^b^^'thJ^n^cV s^^^^r parts and in the midst of the aquatic
vdncfi midge (BU- vcgctation arc the lesser fishes and many other
familiar vertebrates, frogs and their tad])oles,
salamanders, turtles, etc., of uncertain occurrence. Much
more generally distributed and constantly present are a
few molluscs and crustaceans, such as are shown in Figure
20. There are a few adult insects (fig. 21) and many insects
in immature stages (figs. 22, 23) and 24. Some help toward
the recognition of these may be had from the table on pages
40 and 41, which contains brief hints, also, of the situation
they occu])y in the water and the role they play in the food
consumption.

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

r/fcsryir£'iyvs

MOL L usc:>

Fig. 20. Some common crustaceans and molluscs: crawfish, with the asellus at
thc I'^ft and the scud (Gammarus) at the ri^ht; — also, a mussel and two snails;
(LimiKta, on the left, and Planorbis on the right).

THE FARM STREAM

Fig. 21. Adult aquatic insects: a, the back-swimmer
(Nolonecta); 6, the water-boatman (Corixa); c, a diving-
beetle (Dytiscus); d, a giant water-bug (Benacus).

be seen without a
lens and too num-
erous even to be
mentioned here.
The water is hke
another world of
life, containing a
few forms that are
directly useful to
us and many more
that furnish for-
age for these; containing a few that are noxious when
adults, such as black-flies, horse-flies and mosquitoes, and a
host of other forms, all of interest to the naturalist, but not
known to be of practical importance. They are all a part
of the native population of the stream, and each has a share
in carrying on its natiu-al social functions.

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

One who but casu-
a 1 1 y examines the
animal life of the
stream is apt to see
chiefly carnivorous
forms ; for these are
most i n evidence :
^ and here, as else-

Co'^to/omus (after 'Helen Wiiliamson Lyman) • fc a .^^^.U^^p hplbivorCS

dobsun larva, or hellgrammite. Coryda/ts cor«M<a (after WncrC, nClDlVOrtb,

Lintner); c. an orl-fly larva, Sialis (after Maude H. U f^ \ ^ „ nnnrlv

Anthony). UClUg puoiiy

Fig. 22. Aquatic insect larvae: a, a diving-beetle
Co^to^omus (after Helen Williamson^ Lyman) ; fc_.

40 Recognition characters of some oj the cotmnoner

Single distinctive characti :

1. Forms in which tlic immature stages (commonly known as nymphs
and are plainly visible upon the back.

Common Name

Stone-flies

May-flies
Damsel- flies

Dragon-flies

Water-bugs

Order

Form

Taiis

Plecoptera

depresseQ

2, long

Ephemerida
Odonata

elongate, variable
slender, tapering

rear-

3, long: (rarely 2)
sec gills

Odonata

stout, variable

very short, spinelike

Hemiptera

short, stout, very
adults

variable

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

Common Name

Order

Legs

Gills

Water-moths

Lepidoptera

3 pairs of minute
jomted legs followed
by a number of pairs
of fleshy prolegs

of numerous soft white
filaments, or entirely
wanting

Caddis- worms

Trichoptera

3 pairs rather long

variable or wanting

Orl-flies

Neuroptera

3 pairs shorter

7 pairs of long, lateral
filaments

Dobsons

Neuroptera

3 pairs

tufted at base of lateral
filaments, or want-
ing

Water-beetles

Coleoptera

3 pairs

usually wanting

True flies

Diptera

wanting

usually only a bunch
of retractile anal gills

3. Further characters of some common dipterous larvae. These are distin-

CoMMON Name

Crane-flies

Net-veined midges

Mosquitoes

Black-flies

True midges

Soldier-flies
Horse-flies

Snipe-flies

Syrphus- flies

Muacid flies

Family

TiptUidae

Blepharoceridae

Culicidae

Simuliidae

Chironomidae

Stratiomyiidae
Tabanidac

Leptidae

Syrphidae

Muscoidea

Head

Tail

retracted and invisible

a respiratory disc bord-
ered with fleshy ap-
pendages

tap>ering into body

wanting

free

with swimming fin of
fringed hairs

free

with caudal ventral
aUachment disk

free

tufts of hairs

small, free

floating hairs

acutely tapering

tapering body

tapering, retractile

with two short taper-
ing tails

minute

extensile process as
long as the body

rudimentary

truncated

forms of aquatic insects in their immature stages.

are printed in italics.

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

Gills

many, minute, around
bases of the legs

7 pairs on hack

3 leaflike caudal gill-
plates

internal gill chamber
at end of body

wanting

Other Peculiarities

immense grasping lower
lip

jointed beak for punc-
turing and sucking

Habitat

rapids

all waters

slow and stagnant

waters
slow and stagnant

waters
all waters

Pood-habits

mainly carnivorous

mainly herbivorous
carnivorous

carnivorous

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

Rear End of Body

a pair of fleshy pro
legs with numerous
claws on them

do., with paired larger

hooks at tip
a long tapering tail

paired hooked claws

variable

see next table

Other Peculiarities

mostly living in port-
able cases

head small, often ap-
parently wanting

Habitat

Food Habits

still waters

herbivorous

all waters

mostly herbivorous

gravelly beds

carnivorous

all waters

carnivorous

slow or stagnant waters carnivorous
all waters see next table

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

Fleshy Legs, or Pro

LEGS

variable

wanting

one beneath the mouth

/ in front, 2 at rear

end of body
wanting
wanting

stout paired beneath

j wanting

usually wanting

Other Peculiarities

Habitat

flat lobed body with
row of ventral suckers

swollen thoracic seg
ments

"fans" on head for
food-gathering

live mostly in soft
tubes

depressed form

tubercle covered spin-
dle-shaped body

shoals

rocks in falls

pools (at surface)

rocks in rapids

all waters

still water (at surface)
beds in pools

rapids under stones

shallow pools

Food Habits

herbivorous mostly

diatoms, etc.

herbivorous

herbivorous
carnivorous

carnivorous

NATLRAI. HISTORY OF Till: FARM

Fig. 23. Immature statjes
of four common neuroptcrous
insects: a, ailragon-fly (.4 wax
Junius ; b, a damsel-fly
iAmphiagrion amphion); c, a
stone-fly fAcroneuria sp?)\
</, a may-fly ^Callibatis spf).

cquii)i)cd for ri};htin^\ camiol afford to
be conspicuous. But if oiio will reflect
that carnivores can not maintain
themselves indefinitely by eating one
another, and will look a little more
closely, he will find plenty of the
herbivorous forms. These are they
whose economic function is that of
"turning grass into flesh, in order that
carnivorous Goths and Vandals may
subsist also, and in their turn pro-
claim 'All flesh is grass' " (Coues).
The most widespread, abundant,
and important of the herbivores of the
stream are apt to be the scuds (Fig.
2o), the may-fly n\Tnphs (Fig. 23,^),
and the lar\\ne of inidges (Fig. 24,^).

Study 4. The Farm Stream

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

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

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

THE FARM STREAM

Fig. 24. The larvae of four two-winged
flies (Diptera): a, the swale-fly (Sepedon),
withdrawing beneath the surface film of the
water; b, the punkie iCeratopogon); c, the
phantom midge larva fCo>-ei/;ra); and d, the
common midge (Chironomus).

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

Collect and examine
the commoner plants
and animals, first of the

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

The Record of this study will consist of:

I. A map, on which are indicated as clearly as possible:

1 . Waterfalls and riffles.

2. The extent of each sort of bottom.

3 . The principal plant beds .

4. The fish pools.

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

Name (this will be supplied by the instructor) .
Grows where (that is, in which of the situations examined) .
Depth of ^ater (approximate) .

Growth-habit (simple or branched, erect or trailing, stem-
less, leafless, etc.).
Remarks.

III. List of all the water animals observed, arranged in a
table with colimm headings as follows:

Name (this will be supplied by instructor, if needed) .
Lives where (in which of the situations examined).

44 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

At what depth (approximate).

Eats what (your own specific observations rather than

general data taken from table).
Habits of locomotion (walking, swimming, looping, etc.).
Remarks.

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

V. Till-: 1' [SHI'S OF THK FARM STREAM

"I'o dangle your legs uhcre the fishing is good
Can't you arrange to come do'tvni'"

— Riley (To the Judge).

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

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

Fig. 26. DiaRram of a fish (the black bass) with the fins named on the diagram:
ventral Jin is also'called pelvic. Drawing by Mi'^^ ?->...,,th- rurtis.

FISHES OF THE FARM STREAM 47

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

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

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

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

48 NATURAL HISTORY OF TUL FARM

V
Fig. I'S. The pike.

Other dwellers in the stream are restricted to the shoals and
to the shelter of rocks or of vegetation. Certain of them like
Ihe ]nke (fig. 28) are specialized for feeding at the surface:
others, like the sucker (fig. 29), for feeding at the bottom;
and the mouth is turned up or do\\Ti accordingly. The best
of them are cami\'orous and eat habitually other smaller
fishes. The rock bass seems to prefer crawfishes as food.
Most of them eat the lar\^ae of may-flies and midges, though
the pikes demand bigger game. The sheepshead eats mol-
luscs, crushing the shells with its flat-topped molarlike teeth.
Fishes are among the most beautiful of living things.
Their colors are splendid. Their motions are all easy and
graceful. Their habits are most interesting and varied.
Nearly all the common forms are included in six or seven
families : the catfishes, the trouts, the pikes (including the
pickerel), the suckers, the minnows (including the huge caq:)),
the perches, and the sunfishes (including the basses) . It is the
]3ur]X)se of the following study to promote acquaintance with
some of these.

Study 5. Creek Fishes

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

FISHES OF THE FARM STREAM

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

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

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

Fig. 29. The sucker.

RECOGNITION CHARACTERS

Name

Sise

Length* Ra.tio'

Form*

Scales^

Mouth*

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

' CyUndrical, depressed, or compressed. ■♦ Large or small or wanting

5 Large or small, terminal or inferior.

OF CASCADILLA FISHES

FINS

Dorsal^

Caudal^

Pelvic^

REMARKS

^ Diagram side view. ^ Thoracic or abdominal.

VI. iWSTURL PLANTS

"Thou crcKcnest the year with thy goodness; and thy paths drof) fatness.

They drop upon the pastures of the unlderness: and the little hills
rejoice on every side.

The pastures are clothed with flocks; the valleys also are covered over
with corn; they shout for joy, they also sing."

— A Psalm of David n'salm 65:11-131.

Before there were tilled fields, there were green pastures.
The grazing animals made them. They cropped the tall
vegetation and tram])led the succulent herbage, and pasture
grasses s]Drang up and flourished in their stead. \\Tierever
there wore pieces of level ground frequented by wild cattle,
there pastures developed.

Pasture plants have seeds that are readily carried about and
distributed by the muddy feet of cattle. They also have
good staying qualities : once rooted in the soil, they will li\'e
long even where they can grow but little. So we find them
growing ever^^vhere, flourishing in the light, hanging on in the
shadow, as if waiting for a chance — even in the deep shadow
of the woods. Cut do^vn the trees, and the grasses appear.
Keep all the taller plants cut down, and the grasses spread and
fonn a meadow. Brush-covered hills are sometimes changed
into pastures simply by cutting them clean and turning in
sheep. More sheep are kept on them than can find good
forage; so, they are reduced to eating every green thing. It
is hard on the sheep, but the grasses, relieved of the competi-
tion of the taller plants, spread in spite of very close cropping.
After two or three seasons, the hills are turf -covered : the
woody plants are gone. This is a crude method of pasture
making, and one that is coming to be practiced in our day
more often with goats than with sheep, goats having a \\'ider
range of diet ; but it illustrates some fundamental condi-

PASTURE PLANTS 53

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

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

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

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

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

stems of the grass asunder. If broken, take up the pieces and
obsen'C that each is provided witli its own roots. Thus, a
moderate amount of trampling:: only serA'es to ])ush the grasses
into new territory. Think liow disastrous in comparison
would be the descent of this b(n'ine's hoofs H])on the balsams

and cabbages of the garden.

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

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

Pig. .■?0. The wire rush
(J uncus tenuis).

PASTURE PLANTS

55
some other

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

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

^-^

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

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

56 XATURAl. HISTORY OF THK FARM

There is one tree that regularly in\'adcs our neglected
pastures. It is the hawthorn. The cattle browse on it, but
thc\- leave a remnant of new growth every }'ear. So its
increase is ver>' slow until it gets beyond their reach — slow
but sure. All the while its dense cone of stubs is shaped
smooihl)' as in a lathe. Rut once emancipated from their
browsing, it suddenly expands upward into the nomial
form of the s])reading hawthorn tree.

Study 6. Pasture Plants

Am- old ])asture will do for this: the more neglected, the
more interesting its population is likely to bo. The equip-
ment needed is merely something to dig witli. Let all the
work be done individually.

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

The record of this stud}- will consist in :

I . Annotated lists of :

(a) Forage plants.

(b) Weeds (further classified if desired) , with indica-

tions of size, duration (whether annual, bien-
nial, or perennial), mode of seed dispersal
(whether by wind or water or carried by ani-
mals on their feet or in tlieir wool) . Vegetative

PASTURE PLANTS 57

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

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

(a) A grass that spreads by underground branches,

like a bluegrass.

(b) A bulbous grass, like timothy.

white clover.

(d) A rosette-forming, tall, single-stemmed biennial,

like teasel or dock.

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

lion.

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

tercup, or yarrow.

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

\'ir. Tin: kdiim.h wild roots ui' Tin-: iwrm

"The sunshine floods (he fertile fields

Where shining seeds are sown,
And lo, a miracle is icrouiiht;

For plants with leaves wind-blown,
By magic of the sunbeam's touch

Take from the rain and dew
And earth and air, the things of life

To minpje them anew,
And store them safe in guarding earth

To meet man's hunger-need.

Then lo, the wonder grows complete;

The germ within the seed
Becomes a sermon or a song,

A kiss or kindly deed."

— Dean Albert W. Smith.

Nature sometimes caches her stores of j^ro visions — hides
them under<;round.. Slie puts them up in mold-proof
package-^, and stows them away in the earth, where, protected
from sudden changes of temperature, they keep for along
time. It is chiefly a few of the mammals that are the reci-
pients of this bounty — those that can
burrow in the soU and those that can
root. The burrowers are numerous,
and of very different sorts. They all
ha\'e stout claws on their fore feet.
The rooters are few: only the pigs and
their nearest allies. These have a most
unique and beautiful digging apparatus,
hap[)ily placed on the end of the n )se,
where it is backed by all the pushing
I)Ower of a stout body, and where it is
directed in its operations by the aid of
very keen olfactories. This is a most
efficient equipment for digging. If any-

Fig. 32. Nature's most
efScient implement of
tillage. But, alas! a
little bit of metal ring
thrust into the sensitive
base of the "rooter"
renders this beautiful
contrivance inoperative,
reduces the efficiency of
his pipship to the com-
mon level of mamma-
lian kind, and leaves
him endowed only with
his appetite.

THE EDIBLE WILD ROOTS OF THE FARM 59

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

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

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

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

NA'I'L'RAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

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

American tubers are much more
valuable. Indeed, the most valuable
root crop in the world is the potato.
The potato crop stands among our
crops second only to the wheat crojD
in cash value. And an acre of potatoes ma>- ]jroducc as
much human food as ten acres of wheat. The only other
native tuber that is extensively cultivated is that of the arti-
choke {Hclianthus tnherosns) which maintains itself
wild in great patches in many a rich bottomland thicket.
The artichoke is able to win out over the other herbaceous
perennials by reason of its sheer vegetative vigor: it over-
tops them all and gets the sunlight. And when it blooms, it
overspreads the thicket with a blaze of yellow sunflowers in
late suinmer. There is another native tuber, however, of
great promise : it has higher nutriti^'e value than the potato
and is very ]jalatable; it is the so-called groundnut {Apios
hihcrosa). The plant is a vine, that grows in moist thickets
and clambers over low bushes. It bears brownish purple,
\'iolet-scented, papilionaceous flowers in dense clusters in mid-
simimer. The tubers are borne on slender underground
stems, often a number in a row, and arc roundish or pear-
shaped, very solid, and when cut, exude a milky juice, like a
sweet potato. Doubtless, this \'aluablc plant, which furnished
the Indians with a dependable part of their living,

THE EDIBLE WILD ROOTS OF THE FARM

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

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

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

Among the aroids is another that is
worthy to be mentioned not as a food
plant, but as one that has been valued
for its pungency, and for the magic powers mdely believed to
inhere in its root. It is the sweet flag {Acorus calamus,

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

XATl'RAL HISTORY oF THE FARM

Fig. 16.6); its chaniu'il ])r()iluct, "calamus root." Dried it is
often nibbled by school children, and it is candied by their
mothers, es]M'(iall\- in Xcw Eni^land. and ser\'ed as a condi-
ment.

There area number of other native "roots" of semi-aquatic
plants tliat were eaten by the aborigines. The bij^'gest ' 'root"

of all was the rhizome of the
spatter-dock — several feet long
and often six inches thick,
coarse and spongy, and full
of starch. The rootstocks of
the lotus and of several other
members of the water-lily fam-
ily are edible; also, the sub-
terranean offsets of the cat-
tail. These were and are fa-
vorite foods of the muslvrat,
too. The red man ate also
the rootstocks of the arrow-
head and the underground stems of the false Solomon's
seal. Then if we count the exotic, cultivated peanut in its
pod a root crop, we shall have to count the native hog
peanut (Amphicarpcea moiwica, Fig. 36), with its more
fleshy and root-like subterranean pod, also as one.

It is a most interesting plant. It grows as a slender t\vining
vine on low bushes in the edges of thickets. It produces pale
blue flowers in racemes along the upper ]3art of the stem,
followed by small, beanlike pods. It de-
velops also scattered, colorless, self-fertil-
zing flowers on short branches at the sur-
face of the soil. These are very fertile.
They push into the soil and ])roduce there
mosth' one-seeded, roundish, fleshy pods
about half an inch in diameter. These
are the hog i)eanuts.

Fig. 3.">. A portion of a vine of the
hog peanut, bearing both flowers and
seed pods.

Fig. 3G. The root
and the under-
ground "nuts"' of
the hog peanut.

THE EDIBLE WILD ROOTS OF THE FARM 63

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

Study 7. Wild Root Crops of the Farm

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

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

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

The record will consist of :

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

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

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

EDIBLE WILD ROOTS

NAME

Kind of Plant'

Grow*
Where

Nature
"Root

'Tree, shrub, herb vine etc aquatic, climbing, etc.
'Root, tuber, bulb, corm, rhizome, oflfset, etc.

OF THE FARM

Fonn^ and

Size4

Qualities

Uses

Remarks

Diagram.

Length X width in mm.

x'lii. Till-: xoviCMiuoR si-:i:o-cRc)P

" ' lis all a myth that Autumn grieves
For, list the 'ciud among the sheaves;
Far sweeter than the breath of May."

— Samuel M. Peck (Aulumti- Mirth).

November, in our latitude, is nature's season of plenty.
Her work of cro]) ])roduction is done. Living is cjusy for all
her creatures. The ini]irovident may ha\'c their choice of
fruits, or may eat only of the seeds that are best liked and
most easily gathered. The frugal and foresighted may
gather winter stores. It was no mere arbitrar}^ impulse of
our Puritan pioneers that settled upon November as the
season of special Thanksgiving.

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

It is a long, lean season that follows on November in our
latitude, and the seed-crop, though abundant, is not sufficient
to feed all the wild animal population. So nature takes
various measures to eke it out. She puts to sleep in hiberna-
tion the great majority' of animals. These include nearly all

THE NOVEMBER SEED-CROP

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

Nature's population is suited to her
products. Her seed-eating rodents
are all armed with stout chisellike
teeth, adapted for cutting anything,
from the nutshells to chaff. Her seed-
eating birds are armed with stout,
seed-cracking, husk-opening beaks.
Her little birds are agile, and can
cling with their feet to swaying twigs,
and ravage the loaded seed-cones
pendent upon them. The beaks of
the crossbills are especially adapted to
extracting the seeds from the cones of
our evergreen trees.
The seeds we cultivate for food are cereals and lentils.
With the exception of maize they came with our ancestors
from other climes. Some of the native cereals have heavier

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

b, the beak of a finch;

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

68 XATL'RAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

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

Besides the cereals and lentils there are other wild seeds,
allied to those we cultivate, for minor uses : for their flavors,
for the oils they contain, for their medicinal properties, etc.
And there are many others that arc of interest to us solely on
account of the ver>^ special ways in which they contribute to
the preservation of the species, by providing for their own
dispersal . Some are armed w4th hooks or barbs that catch in
the wool of animals (as indeed they do also in our own cloth-
ing), and thus they steal a ride, which may end in some new
and unoccupied locality. These grow at low elevations — not
higher than the backs of the larger quadrupeds. Some light-
weight seeds develop soaring hairs, which catch the wind and
by it are carried about. Some of the larger dry seeds of trees
develop parachutes by means of which they are able to glide
to a considerable distance from the i)lace in which thc>' grow.

THE NOVEMBER SEED-CROP

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

Some take a ride by water, and to aid their
navigation, develop water-repellant seed-
coats, boat-shaped forms, corky floats, etc.
Finally, some develop automatic ejectors
like the capsules of the touch-me-not or
jewel-weed, which collapse with explosive
violence; or like the close-pinching hulls
of witch-hazel, which shoot out the seeds
to a distance of several yards. But most
seeds are featureless, as regards means of
dispersal. They merely fall, singly or in
clusters, and are moved about only with the chance
removal of the soil with which they mix.

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

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

70 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

Study 8. The November Seed-Crop
The program of this study will cover the exploration of a
small area well overgrown with herbage. The variety of
forms found will be greater if diverse situations, wet and dry,
in sun and in shade, are included. Collect seeds of all kinds
as encountered (omitting fleshy fruits and nuts), and note
what sort of plant produces each kind. It will be well to
take specimens of the seeds in their containers for closer
examination at home.

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

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

IX. THE DECIDUOUS TREES IN WINTER

"Yet lower bows the storm. The leafless trees
Lash their lithe limbs, and with majestic voice
Call to each other through the deepening gloom.''

— ^J. G. Holland {Bitter-sweet).

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

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

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

In ^^^nter, when the boughs are bare and stand out sharply
against the background of the sky. the structural character-
istics that best distin-
guish tree species are
most readily seen. The
forking and the taper
and the grou]3ing of the
branches, the size and
stoutness and position
of the twigs, that are
obscured b}' simimer
foliage, are now evident. By noting such characters as these
we may learn to recognize the trees. The woodsman, who
learns them unconsciously, knows them as wholes, and
knows them without analysis by the complex of characters
thoy present. But most of us will have to make their
acquaintance by careful comparison of their characters
separately. A few suggestions to that end here follow.

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

Fig. 40. Diag^ram illustrating the characteristics
of form in some common trees: o, Lombardy
poplar; b. white birch; c, sugar maple; d.
apple; e, American elm.

THE DECIDUOUS TREES IN WINTER

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

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

Much more dependable recognition char-
acters are found in the structure of the tree-
top. The trunk may tend to form a single
axis as in the birch, or to split up early
into long main branches as in the elms. The
boughs may be short and stocky as in an old
chestnut, or long and slender as in a beech.
The twigs may be long or short stout or slen-
der, and in position ascending, horizontal, or
drooping. The bark may present many
characteristic differences on trunk and bough
and twigs, all of which need to be seen to
be appreciated. But most positive of all
the structtiral differences by which we may
distinguish trees are some of the lesser
characters in bud and leaf scar, a few of
which are indicated in figure 41. The size

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

RECOGNITION CHAI^VCTERS OF

Growth
Habit

Bark (mature)

NAME

Color

Fissures*

Surface
Layers'

Dianj.»

Oiik. White

Oak. Red

Tlickon'"

Chestnut

Butternut

Beech

Birch'

Maple'

Elm"

Ash'

Basswood

Sycamore

TuHji Tree

' Vertical or horizontal, simple or forking, deep or shallow, narrow ur wide, etc.
' Hard or soft, adherent or loose, shedding in strips or in bits, etc.
3 Smallest diameter of an average twig in mm.
'Specify which kind.
j^ Another kind of tree of your own selection.

DECIDUOUS TREES IN WINTER

Twigs

Misc.

Buds

Color

Form

Arrange-
ment*

Leaf Scars ^

Other Peculiarities*

* Peculiarities of form and color, lenticels, pith, etc.
5 Sketch in simple outline.
^ Opposite or alternate.

^ Diagram, including tiindle scars and stipule scars.

^ Taste and smell, persistent leaves, nuts, fruit, stalks, etc.; also, flower, buds,
etc. for next season.

76 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

and structure and color of the i^ith will often furnish good
characters.

One who is learnin<^ them should eniplo}- his senses of
touch, taste and smell as well as his sight. The toughness
and pliancy of hickory tu-igs are revealed to our fingers. By
biting t^\^gs, distinctive flavors may be discerned in most
t%\'igs. Tulip tree is bitter, and sweet birch is deliciously
aromatic. The buds of linden are mucilaginous when
chewed. The twigs of walnut and sassafras ha\'e a smell that
is instantly recognizable. There is no difficulty at all about
knowing the principal kinds of trees if one will take the
trouble to note their characteristics.

Study 9. Recognition Characters of Deciduous Trees in

Winter

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

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

The record of this study will consist in:

1. The completed tabulation.

2 . Simple outline sketches of twigs :

(a) Of ash and birch or elm.

(b) Longitudinal sections of walnut or butternut

X. THE FARM WOOD-LOT

Much can they praise the trees so straight and

The sailing pine; the cedar proud and tall;

The vine-prop elm; the poplar never dry;

The builder oak, sole king of forests all;

The aspen good for staves; the cypress funeral;

The laurel, meed of mighty conquerors

And poets sage; the fir that weepeth still;

The willow, worn of forlorn paramours;

The yew, obedient to the bender's will;

The birch for shafts; the sallow for the mill;

The myrrh siveet-bleeding in the bitter ivound;

The warlike beech; the ash for nothing ill;

The fruitful olive; and the platane round;

The carver holme; the maple, seldom inward sound.

— Spenser (Faery Queen).

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

Within the wood, where the larger trees are growing closely,
their crowns touching each other, there will be found but a
scanty growth beneath them of spindling small trees and of
straggling shrubs. These will often show a fairly distinct

78 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

stratification of their crowns at two levels, \\itli scattering
low shrubs nearer to the ^ound. This is the way in which,
left to themselves, each "finds its level" and its proper
situation. T(X) much interference of the axe may keep down
some of them and may make unusual opportunities for
others; but it does not change the nature or needs of any
of them.

The <^ou]jini,'s of the trees of dilTerent kinds will l)e seen
to diftcr ob\'iousl\-, according to their several modes of
reproduction. Copses of young trees, clustered about old
ones, will be found s])rinp:ing up as "suckers" from the
spreading roots of beech and choke-cherry and nanny-berr}'.
Thickets composed of a mixture of tree-species spring up as
seedlings in the j^lace where a giant of the woods has fallen,
lea\-ing a good site temj^orarily unoccupied. In such a place
the struggle for existence is apt to be severe. Groui)s of a
few trees on a common root result from the gro\\'th of s]Drouts
from stumps. vSome trees, like the chestnut, when cut will
come again unfailingh', and replanting is unnecessary for
their maintenance. Others, like the white pine, rarely sprout
from the base when cut dowii, and are renewed only from
seed. Most trees sprout more freely if cut (or bunted)
\\'hen \-oung. Dozens of sprouts will promptly sj^ring from
a healthy stump of oak or elm, but only a few of them —
two or three or four as a rule — can grow to full stature:
the others are gTaduall\' clintinated in the competition for
light and standing roont. The changes in comj^osition of
the wood-lot that follow in the wake of the ax are not so great
as one would at first suppose; for nature, if unhindered b>'
fires or by grazing, has her ownt wa>'S of keei)ing a ])lace for
each of her wild species.

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

THE FARM WOOD-LOT 79

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

Study 10. An Examination of the Farm Wood-Lot

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

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

1 . To see what they are.

2. To see their relative abundance, (and)

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

The record of this study will consist in :

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

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

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

O
•J3 o

• tj

- o ..

fc^

5^3

§1

eg-

§ g U)

a c o

o 3

X
(J

rite directly u
few of the corr
d in it, in thrt

Trees of the f
. Trees of the
I. Shrubs.

^^^

t-H »— 1 (— <

^ o

O'H

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

XI. THE FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM

"We piled with care our nightly stack
Of wood against the chimney back, —
The oaken log, green, huge^ a7id thick,
And on its top the stout hack-stick;
The knotty fore-stick laid apart
A nd filled between with curious art
The ragged brush; then hovering near
We watched the first red blaze appear,
Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam
On whitewashed wall and sagging beam,
Until the old rude-fashioned room
Burst flower-like into rosy bloom/*

— Whittier {Snow - Bound') .

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

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

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

All wood will bum aiid give forth heat, but one who knows
woods \\411 not use all kinds: it is only the degenerate

''^'*'^ 4

*i>.i^^%^ ^

^m^^m^i

^^..^^^:,7~ wcr ■ ■_ ^ : - ifrF%- - "^ •

Fig. 1. 5. Western yellow pine dismantled and ignited by lightning (U. S.
Bureau of Forestry).

modem, who will do that -who will go to the tclei)hone and
order a cord of wood \Nathout further specifications. Heavy,
close-grained, hard woods as a rule bum more slowly and
yield more heat thiin the lighter, more oi)en-textured soft
woods. Combustible resins vary the rate of burning, and the
amount of heat ])roduced: but the greatest differences in
burning qualities are due to the amount of water present. A
punky old log that when dry will bum like tinder, will soak up
water like a sponge and, becoming "water-logged," will not

FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM 83

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

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

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

NATURAL HISTORY OF THK FARM

Dan Beard's famous
caiiip-fire of four pine
knots illustrates well
the principles of fire
niakinj:^. Each knot is
cleft in tapering shav-
ings, which, ignited at
their tips, gradually

Fig. M. D;in Beards famous fire of four pine inr*rf»acp in ci-z/^ nc fhn.
knr.ts: a. the preparation of one of the knots; mcrcase Ul SlZC aS tnc
b. the placing and igniting of them. ^j.^ j.^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^

and the heat increases. They are set with thick ends
upward and bases outspread, admitting air freely below.
They are leaned against one another, and as the}^ bum,
they automatically come closer together.

The "top-fire" of the Adirondack woodsmen illustrates
excellently a long-keeping fire, that is based on a discriminat-
ing knowledge of fuel values. Figure 45a, illustrates its con-
struction at the start. Two water-logged chunks of hemlock
that will not bum out, scr\'e as "andirons" to hold up the
sides and insure a con-
tinuous air supply
from below. A smooth
platfonn of freshly cut
yellow birch poles is laid
upon these. The yellow
birch, even when green,
has good fire-keeping
qualities. Hickory
would scn^e the pur-
pose. An ordinar}- fire
is then built upon the
top of the birch plat-

fomiby means of kind- pic. 4.-5. a woodsman's long-kceping "top-fire"
linrr nnri fntrotc nnri a. bcKinninR; b. well under way and ready for

ung ana lagots ana the roiling on of the side logs.

FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM 85

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

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

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

86 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Study 11. Fuel-woods of the Farm

The work of this study should be conducted in the wood-lot
or in a bit of native forest, where there is a great variety of
woody plants, big and little, living and dead. There should
be found a few trees fallen and rotting; a few, broken by
stonns or shattered by lightning; some, diseased by fungi or
eaten by beetles or ants; dead snags, tunneled by wood-
peckers; old boles tattooed by sa]3suckers; sprouting
stumps; and scattered weaklings smothered by lustier com-
petitors — in short, the usual wildwood mixture of sorts and
conditions.

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

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

I. The w^ood-lot should first be explored for fire-making
materials. Quick-kindling stuff will be wanted chiefly for
this brief exercise. These are of several categories; (a) "dead
and down" stuffs in the woods, the result of nature's ])runing
and thinning. Nature has placed good fire-making materials
handy. As you collect, observe what kinds of trees hold their
dead branches longest and prescr^'c them inost free from
decay. If there are shattered trunks within reach, knock off
the shattered ends and try them for kindling. Compare
splintering with cho]:)])ing as a means of i)rei:)aring kindling-
stuff from dry softwood.

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

FUEL- WOODS OF THE FARM 87

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

2. The materials gathered should be carried out to an
open space on the lee side of the woods, and tried out in fire-
making. Let the fires be so arranged as to secure a minimum
of inconvenience from smoke. Each student should make a
small fire (not over 18 inches in diameter), using one kind of
material only. Let those more experienced at fire-making
try more difficult materials — say green elm, for a climax. Let
each effort result in a fire and not a sraudge : it should catch
quickly and bum up steadily and clearly with little smoke.
To this end materials /,

should be selected of proper fazttCZT^^ — ^ "~V

kind and proper size for

J . .. • J. 1, Fig. 46. A simple rack of bent wire suit-

ready IgmtlOn, must De so able for the block-testing outlined in this

arranged as to admit air ^^"^ ^^'

below, must "feed" inward as the center biuns out and

must not be increased in size faster than the increasing heat

warrants.

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

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

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

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

XATL'RAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

^:^.-a

n I, 2, and 3 to bum out. With the
apparatus shown in figure 47 any-
one can start a fire by friction of one

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

3. The burning quality of the
same kind of wood in diff"erent con-
ditions, green and dead, sapwood
and heartwood; dead wood wet and
dn,', sound and ])unk; pieces from
knot and from straight-grained por-
tions, etc., mav be tested as in

Fig. 47. Rubbing sticks for ,

firc-n.aking: a. drill-socket, paragraph I.
to which pressure is applied . . i i r

with the left hand (a pine 4. Anacnt mcthods ot startmg a

knot with a shallow hole in ^ , , , , , .

it will do for this); b. the lire may bc demonstrated m thc mtcr-

drill, an octagonal hardwood , , ., . . r ^^ • ■%

stick about fifteen inches Vals WhllC WaitUlg lOr thC piCCCS USCQ
long; the top should work
smoothly in the drill socket;
c, inelastic bow for rotating
drill. It is moved horizont-
ally back and forth with the
right hand; its cord, <f , is a
leather thong with enough . - ^ , ,

slack to tightly encircle the piccc 01 wooQ upon anothcr and care-
drill once; e, fire board of . ,, . ^ n 1 • 1

dr>- balsam fir. or of cotton- lully nursuig thc iirst rcsultmg Spark.

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

wood. Obser\'e how the Tlmt and stccl and tmdcr inay also

notches are cut with sides , . .

flaring downward; a little pit DC tncd.

to receive the point of the „ . . ....

fire drill is at the apex of 5. bomc mtcrcstmg peculiantics

each one; / is a used-out . . , - -

notch; 2 is yet in use; j is a oi ccrtam woods mav bc sho^^^l at a

new unused notch. The ^

rotating of the drill with common Tire:

pressure from above rubs off , ^ _, - . , ,

a brownish wood powder (a) Bv havmg grccu chumcs

which falls beneath the , . ' -,,..,.

notch and smokes, and then, blUTLing at OnC CUd, tllC liqUldS lU
with gentle fanning, ignites. , , , - . ., ,

A dr>' piece of punk should thc wood may bc made visible.

be placed beneath the notch /-, 1 -n 1 i

to catch it, and some fine Grecn clm Will cxudc watcr at thc

tinder (such as may be , - - 1 -n r 1

readily made by scraping OthCr Cnd ; TCd maplC Will trotll j
fine, dry cedar wood) should , . , .,, , -. . ,

be added to catch the first hickory Will cxudc a vciy Imiited
quantity of delicious "hickory honey. ' '

(b) By burning pieces of chestnut, sumach, etc., the crack-
ling of woods may be demonstrated; also the ember- throw-
ing habit of hemlock. A shower of sparks may be had by
throwing on green and leafy boughs of hemlock and balsam.

FUEL-WOODS OF THE FARM 89

The record of this study will consist in :

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

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

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

XII. WINTER \ERDURE UF TUK l-ARM

"The damsel donned her kirtle sheen;
The hall vas dressed 'uilh holly green;
Forth to the wood did merry-men go
To gather in the mistletoe."

— Walter Scott (Marmion).

In winter when the fields arc bro^\Tl, the pastures deserted,
the birds flo\\Ti, and the deciduous trees stark as though dead,
the evergreens preserve for us the chief signs of life in the
out-of-doors. They mollify the bleakness of the landscape.
So we cover wdth them the bleakest slopes, we line them up
for windbreaks, and we plant them cosily about our homes.

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

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

WINTER VERDURE OF THE FARM 91

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

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

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

92 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

Our broad-leaved evergreens are mostly low shrul)s, and
trailing ground-cover herbs. One of the finest of them, in the
freshness of its \\4nter greenen' and in beauty of its summer
flowers, is the mountain laurel. In the woods on the ground
there are climips of evergreen fcnis, and partridge berry and
wintergrecn, and tufts of perennial mosses, and considerable
areas are often overspread with the bright and shining ver-
dure of the blue m\Ttle, or, in dr\^ places, with the gray -green
of the moss-pink. Many of our scattered herbs like alum-
root and vnld strawberry remain green over winter if not too
much exposed. E\'cn the grasses of our lawns remain green,
wdth a little protection.

Study 12. Evergreens of the Farm

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

The program of the work will include a tri]3 about the lawns
where specimen trees grown in the open ma>' be found,* and
a visit to the woods to see the evergreens of the forest cover
and the forest floor. The species are to be examined care-
fully, one by one, and their salient characters noted. The
conifers are to be written up in a table prepared ^^'ith headings
as indicated on pages 94 and 95. The more heterogeneous
broad-leaved evergreens are to be listed, \nth brief notes as
to their characters and habits.

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

WINTER VERDURE OF THE FARM 93

The record of this study will consist in :

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

2. An annotated list of the broad-leaved evergreens, with
notes on size, growth-habits, situation preferred, character of
foliage, etc.

RECOGNITION CHARACTERS 01

NAME

Growth
Habit'

Kind of
Barlf

Sizc^"

Porm-

' Diagram.

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

^Length X width in mm.

■•Cylindric. flat, keeled, grooved, etc.

EVERGREEN TREES AND SHRUBS

Fruit

Position^

Arrangement^

Kind^

Form^

Miscellaneous

5 Appressed or divergent, etc.

^Solitary or in bundles: if solitary, are they opposite or alternate, 2-ranked
scattered : if in bundles, how many leaves per bundle.
^ Cone, berry, drupe, etc.
^ Diagram of distinctive features.

XIII. Till-: WILD MAMMALS oF THH FARM

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

Which fnakcs thee startle.
At me, thy poor earth-horn companion
An' fellcnc-mortal!
— Robert Burns (To a mouse, on turning her up in her nest with the plough),

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

The Indian was conquered and dri^•cn out in part b}' direct
assault, but in a far larger part by the destruction of his
resources in furs and game. Lx)sing these, he became
de])endcnt. Anned resistance by the eastern Indians ceased
with the passing of the beaver; b>' the Plains Indians, with
the passing of the buffalo.

The earliest white settlements in America were su]:)ported
mainly by himting and trajjping and the sale of furs. Mis-
sionary zeal and desire for extension of empire ])romoted the
founding of colonies, but peltries provided the necessary
revenues for their maintenance. The fur trade was inti-
mately associated with our early colonial development and

y6 ■

THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM 97

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

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

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

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

NATURAL HISTORY OF TIUv FARM

Besides the bison, "noblest of /Yincrican quadrupeds." there
were deer and elk and moose, of wide distribution; in the
Rockies were mountain sheep and goats; and in their foot-
hills, the graceful pronghom. Of these, the red deer remains
where given protection ; indeed, though ne\'er domesticated,
it seems to thri\'e on the borders of
civilization. Recently in New Eng-
land, fanners have had to kill ofT wild
deer in order to save their crops.

Of the beasts of prey, all the lar-
ger species, bears and j^umas and
lynxes and wolves, have been killed
or dri\'cn out ; and probably most of
us would be well enough satisfied to
have all those that remain, confined
in zoological i:)arks. Foxes linger in
the larger wooded tracts. Skunks
are probably more abundant tlian in
primeval times ; for there is more food
available and they are not hunted
very eagerly by most of us. Minks
and weasels and raccoons haunt the
swamps and marshes, and being both small and alert, main-
tain themselves very well.

The rodents have fared better under agricultiu-al conditions
than the two preceding groups. The destruction of the beasts
of prey remo\'cd their m(^st dangerous natural enemies, and
the gro\\4ng of crops in the fields increased tlicir available
food. It is altogether ]:)n)bable, therefore, that where s])ecial
measures are not taken by man to destroy them, such rodents
as the woodchucks, gophers, meadow mice and rabbits are
more abundant now than in primeval times. At any
rate, we can, by taking proper measiu-es, find plenty of
them.

Fig. 48. A pronghom buck.

THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM 99

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

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

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

lOO NATURAL IIISToRV OF Till-: FARM

pains of countless generations; and when once sw^-pt away
it can never be recovered.

By the care of our flocks we lia\e become more s\-mpathelic
towards tame animals. By taking thought for the welfare
of the remnant of our wild animals, we shall become more
S}inpalhelic toward them, more a])])reciative of their fine
powers and their esthetic walues. \\^e shall become more
civilized; for, as the late Professor Shaler assured us, "The
sense of duty which master\' of the earth gives, is to be one
of the moral gifts of modern learning."

Study 13. The Wild Mammals of the Farm
Tliis study includes a little trapping expedition, and some
examination of ca])turcd wild animals and obser\'ations of
their haunts and habits. The tools needed will be pocket
knives, an individual su]:)ply of small mouse traps and bait
(rolled oats will do for bait) , and some cord and fine wire for
snares. Since members of the class will be able to cai:>ture
only a few of the over-abundant little rodents, others should
be available in captivity. Woodchucks, chij^munks, etc.,
may be kept buried in a box in hibernation, if obtained in
auttmm. Raccoons, opossums, etc., may be purchased from
dealers. They may often be borrowed from ])ersons in the
neighborhood who keep them as pets.
The program of work will consist of :

I. A trip along some meadow fence-row and al>out the
grassy borders of a wood, taking up a line of trai)s (that should
have been set the day before and marked as to location),
removing the catch and again baiting them. The\' should be
set in the runwa\'S of meadc )W inice, wood mice, shrews, moles,
etc. Little "Zip" traps, or others of the guillotine t\'pe, are
lightest and chca])est (three cents or less apiece in quantities),
and are quite eflicient. They are baited by S])rinkling some
flakes of oats about the trigger. They are best covered by a

THE WILD MAMMALS OF THE FARM

lOI

sheltering piece of bark or a flat stone, supported an inch or
more, allowing easy access. A few snares of the simple sort
illustrated in fig. 49 (or of some
better sort known to any member
of the class) may be set in the
briar patch in the runways of rab-
bits or in the mouths of their bur-
rows.

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

The record of this study will
consist in:

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

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

Fig. 49. Spring pole and snare:
A, its setting; the pole is a
lithe sapling, trimmed and
bent, its top held down
by a line, /, attached to a
trigger in a hole in the post,^.
Fast to the line is the slip-
noose, n (most quickly made
of small annealed brass wire),
which is set across the rab-
bit's path in such a position
that the rabbit will push his
head through it when reach-
ing the bait, B. T illustrates
how the trigger t is set ma
^ inch hole in the post. The
slightest movement of the
bait-stick rolls the ball, re-
leases the line, ^ and liberates
the pole to draw the noose.

I02

THE WILD MAMMALS

Weight

Length

Color and Markings*

NAME

Body

Tail

1. Woodchuck

2. Chipmunk

3. Red squirrel

4. Deer mouse

■

5. Meadow mouse

1
1

6. Short-tailed shrew

7. Mole

8. Skunk

9. Mink

10. Wen sol

11. Raccoon

12. Bat

In brief.

I03

OF THE FARM

Fur

Quality* Market Price

Feeding Habits*

Economy^

Miscellaneous

" How does it affect our interests.

XrV. THE nOMCSTrCATF.D MAMMALS OF
THE I- ARM

"One of the best features of agricultural life consists in the great amount
of care-taking which it imposes upon its follmcers. lite ordinary farmer
has to enter into more or less sympathetic relations with half a score of
animal species and many kinds of plants. 1 1 is life, indeed, is dex^oted to
ceaseless friendly relations with these creatures, which live or die at his will.
In this task ancient savage impulses are slowly worn away and in their
place comes the enduring kindliness of cultivated men. . . To this
perhaps more than to any other one cause, we must attribute the civilizable
and the civilized state of mind.''

— Shaler iDomesticaUd Animals, p. 222).

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

104

DOMESTICATED MAMMALS OP THE FARM 105

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

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

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

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

lo6 XATIRAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

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

One of the greatest advances in agri-
culture came with the domestication of
the cattle-kind, and their use as draft
Fig. 50. Ox yoke: our animal s. Tumiug the soil ^^'ith a

chief symbol of servitude. , . ,

sharpened stick was, to the early
planter, a sore task, and a slow one. When the stick was
exchanged for a plow, and the great strength of the ox
was set to draw it, then tillage began on a larger scale.
Then settled homes, and projjerty in land, began to be
develo])ed. Nature cquif)ped the cattle kind to serve us in
many ways. She made them excellent producers of flesh and
of milk, of hides and of honi. vShe made them hard}', and
adaptable to a great variety of climate and of artificial condi-
tions of life. She made them to live on such herbage as any
meadow, wild or tame, offers. In no other beasts has she so
combined usefulness in labor, docility, and productiveness.
The horse has been one of man's chief hel]:)ers along the
road of progress. Next to the dog he has been man's most
intimate associate. He was adinirably adai)ted by nature to
su]:>plcment man's physical ]:)owers. He was of the right size :
not too small to carry a rider and not too large nor too

DOMESTICATED MAMMALS OF THE FARM 107

obstinate to be manageable. His back was a natural saddle,
behind the sloping shoulder blades, and his well-knit frame
was well braced and fitted for carrying a rider easily His
rounded muscular hams gave power to his hind legs and made
them efficient organs of propulsion. His lengthened foot
bones gave length of stride. His solid hoofs were well
cushioned and admirably adapted for
travel over solid ground. His gait was
more easy and graceful than that of any
other beast of burden. The structure of
his mouth would seem to have invited the '^
use of a bridle-bit for his guidance and
control. The whole horse invited a rider;
and doubtless many a savage youth, who
had captured an orphaned colt and reared
it by hand, felt moved to accept the invi- ^TsmutSi^''"^'''"
tation. At first he doubtless rode bare-
back, and with only a cord halter for control. Later,
he invented a saddle and a bridle. To a strong horse,
the weight of grown man is a lightsome burden. The
saddle is not a symbol of labor, but of a pleasure that
is mutual. The two participants seem complement al.
The trained horse and the skilful rider make a unit in
action: they make up such a powerful creature as the
mythical Centaur was intended to portray. In the long
struggles of past centuries during which incessant wars were
waged in hand to hand encounter, the mounted soldier had a
tremendous advantage. The horse lent him swiftness
and strength and momentum in attack, and advantage of
position in the fray. The mounted soldiery of the Aryan
and Semitic peoples enabled them to overrun the earth.
As the wealth of a people was measured of old by its herds
of cattle, so its power was measured by its multitudes of war
horses. All ancient art and literature testify abundantly to

io8 NATURAL HISTORV OF THli: FARM

this. The horse was ke])t for use in war mainly. Some
peculiarities of his mental make-up seem to fit him for the
parade pjound. He seems to love excitement. He enters
into a race with j^eat zest. He steps high in ])ublic and
wears tlie tra])i)ings of war \\'ith all the proud disdainfulness
of a Cavalier. He has given his name to one ostentatious
period of our history, the Age of Chivalry.

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

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

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

DOMESTICATED MAMMALS OF THE FARM 109

raising pigs than by raising sheep or cattle. In our late Civil
War, hogs early became the main reliance for meat supply for

the soldiers on both sides.
The quantity of pork in the
country at any given time may,
by raising hogs, be doubled in
eighteen months. Hogs are

Fig. 52. A quick-growing meat supply. n • i_ • j ^

^ well nigh ommvorous and are

gifted by nature with a keen sense of smell, with the aid of
which they are able to find food that cattle and horses waste.
So they are usually allowed to run after cattle to convert the
waste into pork. The pig is not naturally a very dirty animal ,
when given a chance to be clean, nor is he hopelessly stupid.
He can be taught more tricks than many animals that have a
higher reputation for cleverness. His manners, however, are
bad.

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

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

no XATURAL HISTORY ni- Till-: FARM

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

They have been long and intimately associated with man-
kind. They have learned some things from us, but we l.avc
learned vastly more from them. We have learned fidelity
from the dog, chivalry from the horse, gentleness from the
cow, parental affection and cooperation and sympathy from
all of them. To our minds, the dog stands for fealty; he
represents many pri\'ate virtues. The horse stands for
courage; he represents rather the pubUc \4rtues. The ox
stands for docility. The sheep represents our commonest
social, the pig, our commonest personal shortcomings.

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

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

DOMESTICATED MAMMALS OF THE FARM in

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

Study 14. The Domesticated Mammals of the Farm

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

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

112 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

The record of this study will l)c in two parts:

1 . The student will write u]) brief notes on the dofr, horse,
cow, shee]\ pig, etc., conceniing those ])oints in their natural
history detennining their ax-ailability for purposes of domesti-
cation as follows: their size and weight (average); rate of
growth; rei)roductive capacity; foods and feeding habits;
voice and social habits; weapons and fighting habits; for
what use fit; and general attractiveness or unattractiveness
of make-up and behavior. These notes should include only
personal obser\'ations.

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

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

Average weight (adult)

Average milk production (get data from dairy record).

Color and markings.

Horns.

Muzzle.

Feet.

Other peculiarities.

Nimiber kept.

Kept where.

Average market \'alue.

XV. THE FOWLS OF THE FARM

"No longer now the winged habitants,
That in the woods their sweet lives sing away,
Flee from the form of man; hut gather round,
A nd prune their sunny feathers on the hands
Which little children stretch in friendly sport
Towards these dreadless partners of their play."

— Shelley (.Daemon of the World).

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

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

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

113

114

NATURAL IIISTORV OF THIv FARM

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

Of our fine native fowl, one, the
turkey, has been domesticated; one,
the wild pigeon has been wholly exter-
minated ; and most of the others have
been hunted almost to the point of
extinction. Game laws have served
in the ixist merely to prolong a lit-
tle their slaughter. If there be any
hope of preserving unto future gener-
ations the remnant of those game birds
that still survive, it would seem to lie
in the permanent rescr\'ations that are
being established north and south,
for their ]3rotcction.

The wild pigeon was the first of our
fine game birds to disappear. Its
social habits were its undoing, when
once guns were brought to its pursuit.
It flew in great flocks which were
cons])icuous and noisy, and which the
hunter could follow by eye and ear,
^""igton. ^^^ "^'^^ pa*«"8er ^^^^ ^^^^^^ (\o\\\\ with shot at cvcry

THE FOWLS OF THE FARM 115

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

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

The terrestrial wild fowl have vanished also; especial! \-
those that, like the wild turkey, were large enough to be

ii6

NA'IUKAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

trophies to the hunter; or
those, Hkc the bob-white,
that were social in habits; or
those, hke tlie prairie hen.
that flew in the open and
could be followed by the eye
to cover. Our woods-loving
niffed grouse has fared a
little better. Wherever suffi-
cient forest cover remains,
it has been able to maintain
itself in spite of well -anned
pursuers. It is alert. It is
solitar}'. Its protective
coloration is well nigh perfection. Its flight is swift;
and when flushed from cover, it goes off ^vith a starthng
suddenness and ^^•hirring of wings that disconcerts the
average hunter and delays his fire until a safe esca])e
has been made. Moreover, the hunter, by killing off
some of its worst enemies among the beasts of prey, has
unwittingly helped the grouse to hold its place. So it
remains with us, by virtue of its superb natural endowment,
notwithstanding it is truly a hunter's prize. Fattened on the
^vild cereals of the woodland swales,
and fla\'orcd with the aromatic buds
of the sweet birch, there is no more
toothsome game bird in the world
than this one.

Among the curious sounds made
by male birds, the calls of our native
land birds arc most unique. The
ludicrous goljble of the turkey, the
thrilling whistle of the Ijob-w^hite,
the muiflcd drumming of the niffed

/v .:;=

The m.ilc ruffed

THE FOWLS OF THE FARM

Fig. 56. The sora rail {Porzana
Carolina.)

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

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

2 xvC-^'-'^'iJi^^^il - those who come after us may

hear the call of the bob-white
and the grouse in our vales:
let us hope they may be uplifted
with the sight of some of our
fine wild waterfowl, traversing the equinoctial skies.

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

Il8 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

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

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

THE FOWLS OF THE FARM 119

conversation, and pla3rfulness. Contrast with this the pea-
fowl : it is of good quality and large size and effulgent showi-
ness, but it has a raucous voice and bad social manners,
and it has never taken any hold on the affections of human
kind. There can be no doubt that in the beginning — in those
prehistoric days during which all our important conquests of
animated nature were made — when association with domestic
animals was much more intimate than now, animals were
selected, as other associates are selected, on the basis of
pleasing personal characteristics.

Study 15. The Fowls of the Farm

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

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

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

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

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

I20 XAIIRAL HISTORY OF THIi: FARM

makc-ui) and bchax'ior. In these notes distinguish between
oriuiiKil ohstTW'Uions and secondhand infonnation.

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

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

Average weight.

Average egg production (get data from poultr\'-}ard
records).

General color.

Special ornamentation.

Comb (make a simple diagram of it).

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

Peculiarities of behavior.

Other peculiarities.

Number males kept.

Number females.

Kept where.

XVT. FARM LANDSCAPES

"/ do not own an inch of land —
But all I see is mine —
The orchard and the mowing-fields,

The lawns and gardens fine.
The winds my tax collectors are,
They bring me tithes divine.''
> — Lucy Larcom {A Strip of Blue).

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

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

121

122 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

gi\4ng it life and interest. With these one may do much to
alter the setting of his labors.

Besides furnishing the farmer with all the materials used
in her landscape comi)ositions, nature surrounds him with
good models, from the study of which he may learn their use.
If he looks to the ^^'ildwood about him he will be able U) find
scenes that disclose the elements of landscape beaut >•. He
wdll find sheltering nooks that invite him to come and rest in
their seclusion; sinuous streams and cun'ing i)aths whose
gracefully sweeping lines invite his imagination to wander;
broad levels, whereon his eye rests with pleasure, bordered by
cumulous masses of shrubbery; tree-covered slopes, with the
leafage climbing to the summits, here advancing, there
retreating, ever^-^-here varied with infinite tuftings, full of
Hghts and shadows; irregular skylines, punctuated by not
too many nor too prominent fonns of indi\-iduality; and all
organized and unified and harmonizing as component pcLvts
of the border of the \'allcy of some stream or lake.

Now the farm is not a natural unit of tliis larger landscape,
but only a small section arbitrarily marked out by the sur-
veyor. With the larger landsca])e the best one can do is to
locate, if he may, where the j^rosi^ect is good. Moreover, the
curving lines of nature's pictures and the merging masses of
her plantings, are not practiealh' a])]3licable to the growing of
crops. The beauty of the fields must be that of an exhibit,
the beauty of things isolated, and well grown.

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

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

FARM LANDSCAPES 123

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

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

124 NATURAL HISTORY OF I'llI- FARM

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

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

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

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

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

No. (If the name of the o\\nier be not set down, it will
matter less whether the remarks l)c always com])limentary.)

location. (This may, ])erhaps, best be shown In' making a
little sketch-ma]) of the route, whereon all the j^laces studied

FARM LANDvSCAPES 125

are shown in relation to the public highwa^^s and to the main
hills and valleys) .

1. The natural setting; note:

a) The pleasing views that have been preserved or lost

in the planning.

b) The use of nature's materials to add beauty or hide

ugliness, or to accomplish the converse.

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

c) Concerning buildings, whether they fit the situation,

look comfortable, bespeak shelter and privacy,
etc., and whether they are arranged with unity
and harmony.

d) Concerning fields and stock-pens, whether they seem

to belong to the place, and are harmonious mth
each other and convenient in location.

e) Concerning roads and fences, whether they are made

to add to or to detract from the beauty of the

place; whether harmonious or discordant in

arrangement; etc.

A general summary and comparison of the places visited

as to their attractiveness or unattractiveness, and the

reasons therefor, should, in conclusion, be added.

Individual Exercises for the Fall Term

Five studies follow, whieli arc intended to be used by the
student, individually, and at his own convenience. The data
called for may be picked u]) during the course of walks afield
for air and exercise; but serial or extended obser\ations,
that cannot all be made in the course of a sinpjle class exercise,
are in all cases demanded. Persomil initiative is desired.
An instructor ma}- be asked to name plants or animals, but
the student should learn by these exercises to consult nature
inde])endcntly. He should work alone, or with not more
than one or two com]janions. A good idea of the continuity
of nature's processes and of her limitless perseverence in
carr\'ing them forward can be gained only by oft-repeated
serial obser\'ations.

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

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

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

126

A STUDENT'S RECORD OF FARM OPERATIONS

127

Observed during the week be-
ginning

Place of observation
Relevant weather conditions

Cereals

Forage Crops

Root Crops

Fruits

Timber crops

Other crops

Live stock

Poultry
I Other animals

<L>

!a i Soils

o I
w I

h [Roads and fences

^^ Domicile

Other
activities

Business
Civic
Social
Misc.

Sept. 28th

Oct. 5th, etc.

Footnotes:

128 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Optional Study 2. Noteworthy Views of the Farm

The ol)ject of this study is nu-ivly to set tlic student to
obscn-in<^ the beauties of his immediate environment. Let
him not be troubled alK)ut artistic standards. Nature
furnishes the artist with his models. Art ^ows, like a^cnil-
ture, by the selection and intensifying of the best that nature
ofTers . Let the student merely select and locate what appeals
to him as being good to look upon. Let him record his choice
in some such table as is outlined on pages 130 and 131, each
view after its kind.

Optional Study 3. Noteworthy Trees of the Farm
One does not know trees until he knows indi\'idual trees;
until he has compared them, and has noted their personal
characteristics; has observed the superior crown of this one,
the s}Tnmetrical branching of that one, the straight bole of
the other one. There are trees that each of us know
because accidental planting has placed them where we have
found it convenient to rest in their gratefid shade.
There are fine trees made famous by their historical asso-
ciations, and endeared thereby to a whole people; such
is the Washington Elm at Cambridge, Massachusetts, the
tree under which George Washington took charge of the
colonial armies at the beginning of our war for independence.
But there are yet finer trees remote from human abode and
unknown to fame, standing in almost any original forest, that
appeal as individuals to a naturalist. They are tree per-
sonages worth knowing. The work outlined in the table on
page 129 will lead to acquaintance of this desirable
kind. If the student does not already know the different
kinds of trees by sight, this study should not be undertaken
until after the work outlined in class exercise 9 on page 76 has
been completed. A few subsequent rambles among the trees
of the farm will then give opportunity for locating and getting
acquainted with the fine specimens of each species.

NOTEWORTHY TREES OF THE FARM

129

■NT .

Location

Chosen forf

Best viewed

1\AMK

Map

Situation

from

White Pine

Hemlock

Cedar

Larch

Oak*

Hickory*
Chestnut
Butternut

a
6
8

-4->

Beech

Birch*
Maple*

Elm*
Ash*
Basswood
Sycamore
Tulip tree

Hornbeam*

Flowering Dog-
wood

Remarks

Pine Woods

Oak Woods

Elm Woods

Beech Woods

General Forest
Cover

*Any species, but specify which species.

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

I30

NOTEWORTHY VIEWS

Kind of view

1 A wide panorama

2 A long vista

3 A woodland aisle

4 Undulating fields

5 A small sheltered valley

6 A crop in the field

A meandering brook

A pond scene

A waterfall

Rocky cliffs

A foliage picture

A scene uith farm animals

I'i A snow scene

14 !A homestead

For what selected

Prints, sketches, or diagrams of the views selected

ON THE FARM

131

Location

Best seen from

At what time

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

132 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Optional Study 4. Autumnal Coloration and Leaf Fall

Probably the grandest phenomenon of nature that is i^ecu-
liar to our northern latitude, is the coloration of the woods
in autunm. All marvel at the display. Few obser\-e it
carefully. It is the object of this study to direct attention to
some of the external features of it : the mechanical i)re])ara-
tion of the leaf for its fall, the changing pigments of the
residual leaf contents, and the relation of these changes to
temperature and rainfall, etc. The whole process is a
wonderful adaptation to meet winter conditions, and how
admirabl}^ nature manages it ! She first withdraws all food
materials fr(3m the leaves into the stem and branches. Then
she starts her wonderful dis])lay by elaborating bright pig-
ments out of the residue. Then she casts the leaves off in
an orderly fashion, developing breaking points at proper
places. So she diminishes to a very small percentage the
area of exposed evaporating surfaces, and thus she conser\'es
moisture in the plant body through the long cold season.
The changing hues of autumn are more or less accidental by-
products of this process; but they are very beautiful.

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

A CALENDAR OF SEED DISPERSAL 133

Optional Study 5. A Calendar of Seed Dispersal

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

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

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

Seed cluster (illustrate by a simple diagram).

manner (seeds lost singly, in pairs, in clusters,
Seed I etc.)

dispersal | agency (wind, water, animals, plant auto-
matism, etc.)

Date of
Remarks

seeds first out.
maximum dispersal
final dispersal.

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

134

AUTUMNAL COLORATION

Name

Leaf-
form'

Color

First Mature
tint tint

Date

Fading
tints Where
on leaf

First appearing

Where
on tree

In wh;
situ a
tion'

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

135

AND LEAF F.

\LL

Condition of
falling leaves3

Conditions*
accompanying^
maximum fall

Date of loss of leaves

Remarks

Maximum

Final

•

3As to breakage into pieces, extent of withering, etc.
*0f frost, wind, rain, etc.

136 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

THE EXPOSITION

She and I went in it, the Big Fair.

We were tlie whole Attendance.

It was all under one roof which was called The

Sky.
Every day this was rehue<l hy invisible brushes,

gloriously,
And at night all lit by countless lights, star-
shaped.
And arranged curiousl>^in the form of Dippers

and things.
It must have cost a fortune in some kind of rare

coin
To do it that way.

By day the place was vast and very beautiful.
The far edge of it, all around, was called the

Horizon.
Each morning, out of the East,
A huge golden disk came
And swung itself slowly up along the arch of the

sky-roof
And settled to the Westward, leaving numerous

glories behind.
There was a water-place there, a Lake, with an

Inlet and an Outlet.
It was not little and brown like those you see in

Madison Square Garden,
But big and blue and clean.
We splashed ourselves in it and laughed, like

children.
The Lake had trout in it ;
I saw them leap when the water was still
And the golden disk was falling,

— Richard Wightman.

PART II

Studies for the Spring Term

XVII. THE LAY OF THE LAND

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

— Bryant {The Prairies).

Chief of all land laws is the law of gravity.

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

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

^2>7

138 NATURAL HISTORY oF THE FARM

from the solid rock, p-ii\ity disposes of them: removes them
almost as fast as formed from the vertical face of the clifl:
lets them lie on the le\'cl summit: sweeps them do\\'n the
slope: spreads them out over the flood plain, making level
fields; or carries them far away with the rushing flood to
dump them into the bottom of the sea, where, removed from
light and air, they are lost to our use.

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

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

THE LAY OF THE LAND 139

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

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

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

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

140 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

among the hills, they need to be adapted to suit the condi-
tions found on the steeper slopes. To ])lo\v a fertile slope in
furrows that run up and do\\Ti its face is to in\-ite the storm
waters into i)re])ared channels that they may carry the soil
awa>'. Too often the sur\'eyor's lines take no account of the
true boundaries of nature's fields, and the plowinan knows
not the existence of a law of gra\4ty. Many a green hillside,
fit to raise permanent crops in perpetuity, has been cleared
and ])lowed and wasted in hardly more time than was neces-
sary to kill the roots of the native vegetation. Fortunate
is our outlook if the hills round about us are not scarred with
fields that bear silent testimony to such abuse — fields that are
gullied and barren, with their once rich top soil, the patri-
mony of the ages washed away,.

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

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

THE LAY OF THE LAND 141

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

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

142 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Study 17. The Natural Fields of the Farm

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

The tools needed will be a ])ocket compass for taking
directions, and a loo-ft. line, a hand level, and a surveyor's
rod for measuring gradients.

The program of work will consist in :

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

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

The record of tliis study may consist in :

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

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

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

XVIII. THE DECIDUOUS SHRUBS OF THE FARM

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

— Bryant {The Fountains).

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

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

143

144 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

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

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

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

DECIDUOUS SHRUBS OF THE FARM

145

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

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

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

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

146

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

it has the advantage of them, and can su])j)rcss them with its
shade. By the roadside and in the fence-row, where the
fanner keeps the trees cut do\\Ti, >-et does not plow, there they
find their best openings. And, indeed, it were better for the
farmer to raise "brush" in his roadside than to kill the brush
and raise weeds there to contaminate his fields; better to
cover the bare and barren slo])e with soil-consen.'ing shrub-
bery than to have its soil slipping away into the streams;
better to fill the border of his la^^Tl with these plants that are
beautiful in foliage and flower and fruit, than to be forever
mowing the whole of it.

■<:/]

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

The thing to do with the "brush" is first of all to study it a
little, and find out what it is good for. If only by its shelter
it pro\-ides nesting sites and keeps some useful and beautiful
song-birds about the place, it may still be worth while. It
may also provide food for tlic birds, if proper shrubs be
chosen (see page 201). And if rightly used-if used in such
ways and places as nature's ]:>lantings suggest — it adds nuich of
interest and value to an\' i)ropert}', in the beauty and grace of
its flowers and foliage.

DECIDUOUS TREES OF THE FARM 147

Study 18. The Deciduous Shrubs of the Farm

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

The record of this study will consist of :

1 . The completed table.

2. Contrasted diagrams of a few stems from cliunps of
(a) a quick-growing, and (6) a slow-growing shrub, the annual
increments of growth to be marked with the years of their
origin, as in figure 57. The end of each season's growth
is usually evident by reason of the clustering of buds at
the tip, if it be wholly hardy, or, by dead tips with each
season's growth starting from lateral buds, if not all the
growth be matured in any season. Untrimmed wild shrubs
should be chosen for this.

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

148

DECIDUOUS SHRUBS

NAME

Height

Annual^
Shoots

Growth"
Habit

Grows*
Where

Twigs

Diameter* Color

' Maximum growth of one season in centimeters.
' Erect or spreading, slender, bushy, etc.
' In sun or shade, wet or dry ground, etc.

♦ AvernRC diamoter rf an average twig in millimeters.

• Clustering of buds, hairiness, thorns, etc.

149

OF THE FARM

Buds

Form*

Color

Arrangement'

Leaf-scars^

REMARKS^

"^ Diagram.

'^ Opposite, alternate or whorled.

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

XIX. WINTER ACTIVITIES OF WILD ANIMALS

"Of all beasts he learned the language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
Jlcrw the beavers built their lodges,
Where the squirrels hid their acorns,
Ihnv the reindeer ran so swiftly.
Why the rabbit 'was so timid.
Talked with them whene'er he met them.
Called them 'Hiawatha's brothers'."

— Longfellow (Hiawatha's Childhood).

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

After e\'cry snowfall, there is a new record made of the
winter activity of animals; and anyone, who knows the signs,
may read it. On the snow, as on a new wliite page, each
animal prints its own indis]>ulal)le narrative. Its footprints
tell where and whence and how it ran. The leavings from its
luncheon tell what and where and how it ate. The cliips
from its wr.odworkings, the scales froni its huskings, or the
earth from its diggings, tell how and where and why it labored.
And if, by mischance, it fell a prey to some fierce foe, its
blood-stained fur or feathers by the wayside tell how its little
life ended in a tragedy.

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

150

WINTER ACTIVITIES OF WILD ANIMALS

151

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

•

• *
•

•

% •

• *

•

Fig. 59. Tracks on
the snow of mam-
mals, walking, a,
rabbit; 6, skunk.

(Drawn from
photographs) .

Fig. 60. The record of a morning excursion of a red
squirrel in search of a breakfast. Arrow indicates direc-
tion taken; h.hole where a nut was obtained. (Drawn
from a photograph) .

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

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

15'

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

caught on thorns, etc. Muskrat and deermouse drag their
tails, lea\ing a groove on the surface of the snow between the
double line of foot])rints. The crow drags his front toe,
leaving a narrow trailing mark between his sole-i)rints.
Tracks are the signs chiefly used by the woodsman, and next
to tracks, are the c\idences of feeding. Where the (]uadruped

halts, there are ant to be
found, gnawings of bark, or
digging of roots, or descents
into burrows, or ascents for
scouting. The woodsman fol-
lows the animal's trail, and
from such signs as these reads
his successive doings like a
book.

The trails that birds leave
are less continuous, because
betimes the birds betake them-
selves to the trackless air ; but
in a wood where crows feed, one
may see such di\'erse things as
the wastage from their pick-
ings of sumach and poison-ivy
berries, corncobs from ears
brought from a neighboring
field, leaves of cabbage stolen from some neighborhood garbage
heap, and fragments of charcoal, which the crows ha\e picked
from a burnt stump, perhaps to use as a condiment, j^crhaps
to improve their complexion. And the birds that work in
the treetops leave the evidences of their feeding scattered
about over the surface of the fresh snow beneath the trees.
Much pleasure may be derived from obser\'ing the winter
activities of wild birds near at hand if one will feed them. It
is easy to attract them to feeding places within view fixmi

.'^

p V

\j/

Pig. 61. Bird tracks;
ruflfcd grouse.

WINTER ACTIVITIES OF WILD ANLMALS 153

one's \Yindow. Some of the more familiar little birds, such
as chickadees, nut hatches and do^vny woodpeckers, will
com.e to the window ledge for food in time of scarcity. The
chief points to be observed in winter feeding of wild birds are
these :

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

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

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

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

154 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

A large ]')art of the joy of a tram]-) through winter woods lies
in being able to interpret these signs and to know what is
going on. To a naturaHst, the woods never seem unin-
habited; for e\'ery path is strewn with the evidences of the
work and the play, the feasting and the struggles of the
creatures that dwell therein.

Study 19. Winter Activities of Wild Animals

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

The program of work will consist of a tramp through the
woods, studying the tracks of birds and mammals, following
up their trails, deteniiining their direction and speed, the
cause or purpose of interruptions, etc.; also obscr\4ng
evidences of feeding and the natm-e of their food.

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

XX. THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM

"Give me of your roots, Tamarack!
Of your fibrous roots, O Larch-Tree!
My canoe to hind together,
So to hind the ends together
That the water may not enter.
That the river may not wet me!''

— Longfellow {Hiawatha's Sailing).

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

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

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

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

155

156 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

fibers arc t^\^stcd. with the palm of the liand across the bare
thi^h. As the good lady's cord lengthens, she fills her netting
needle and works it into her net. . . The cxanij^le of one
of the Sainoan women t\vistin,i(, without the aid of a s])indle,
strips of bark into cord is as near to the invention of spinning
as we may hope to come." — Mason (Wcyjuan^s Share in
Primitive Culture, p. 68).

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

Fig. C2. Loosely twisted fibers of coarse twine.

mutual pressure. Braiding accomplishes the same result for
a few fibers of uniform size, but even for these it has the dis-
advantage, as compared with spinning, that it bends the
fibers more shaq3ly, tending to break them, and yields a
flat cord, having less phancy. Both spinning and braiding
were practised in all lands before the dawn of history.
Ever^n^iicre man had need of strings, longer than any that
nature offered ready-made. He gathered what he could find
and combined them, first into coarse cordage, strong enough
to fetter wild beasts or to bind up the poles of his primitive
dwelling, and then into an endless variety of finer products, as
progress was made in the art of spinning.

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

THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM 157

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

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

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

158

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE I^\RM

of a ])riinitivc loom, such as women of certain tribes use
to-day. Into this waq) the threads of the woof are woven,
by the woman with her fingers (aided, perhaps, by a crude
wooden shuttle) , by the bird with its slender beak. If anyone
think that the wca\'ing of the oriole is not well done, let him

sit do^\Ti with an empty
nest and tr\' to unravel all
its threads !

The fiber products used
by the oriole are such as
were first used by man for
textile work — strips of
bark, strands of bast fibers,
long hairs from the tails
of horses and cattle, grass
stems and leaves ; in short,
an}i:hing that nature
ollercd, and that had
sufficient length, strength
and pliancy. In our day,
this bird has adopted one
of the products of our
spindles, cotton-wrapping
twane, for the warp of its
nest, doubtless finding,
just as we have found,
that this is superior for the purpose to anything that nature
offers ready-made. Perhaps we thus repay an unacknow-
ledged debt we may be owing this bird-weaver; for possibly
some poetic soul in an age long gone may have watched
an oriole at his labors, as Lowell did:

"When oaken woods with l)U(ls are pink,

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

Then from the honeysuckle Rray
The oriole with experienced quest

Twitches the fibrous bark away
The cordage of his hammock-nest,"

THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM 159

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

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

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

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

l6o

NATURAL HISTORY UP THE FARM

"^If^

Fig. 64. Cotton-bearing seeds issuing from milk-
weed pods.

Cottonwood, thistle
and milkweed, produc-
ing fibcT abundantly.

The fiber products
of the world's fanns
are exceeded in value
only b>' the food pro-
ducts. The chief ani-
mal fibers are, in the
order of value, wool,
silk and hair: the
chief plant fibers are
cotton, flax and hemp.
None of the plants or
anhnals concerned is
native to our soil.

We have not found out how to use any of the native fiber
products with profit. In this, as in so many other fields,
the great discoveries of nature's material resources were
made by our forefathers in other lands and in a far distant
age, antedating history.

The chief use for fiber products is found in the making of
textiles. After feeding people, the next sure good, accord-
ing to Ruskin, is in clothing people; and this demands great
quantities of textiles. The kinky fibers of wool lend them-
selves ideally to the spinning process. They will hang
together in simple yams which may be knit or wo\'en into
wann clothing for cold climates. The soft fibers of linen
make clothing that is cool and that may readily be kept
clean for sun.mer use. The shorter and finer fibers of cotton,
being produce d in greatest abundance, make the cheai^est of
clothing and are used in the greatest variet}' of ^^•a^•s, alone
and in combination with wool, flax and silk.

THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM i6i

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

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

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

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

i62 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

it can find for cordage. Many birds weave shorter fibers into
the walls of their nests. Most birds find suital)le upholster-
ing fibers for nisliioning the eggs —horsehair or feathers or
thistledown. And the robin mixes grass blades and bast
fibers with the cla>' out of which he builds his nuid nt'st. The
birds know how to find ]>r()])er raw material in great variety.
Let us in the following stud}' examine some of these un-
developed fiber resources.

Study 20. Native fiber products

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

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

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

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

4. Herbaceous stems may be gathered for their bast fiber
at any time after maturing, and some, such as dogljane and
milk-Avced, shotild be gathered as a part of this exercise; but
in order to obtain the bast readih', the stems should have been
gathered earlier and "retted" for a week or more (:is neces-
sary, according to species) in water.

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

THE FIBER PRODUCTS OF THE FARM 163

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

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

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

The record of this study may consist of:

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

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

Another study on the coarse unspun materials for Plaiting,
Mat-making and Basketry, may be made on similar lines, with
similar lists of materials for its record. The things needed
for this will be splints, withes, rods, reeds, sweet-grass,
rushes, corn-husks, quills, thongs, etc. Suggestions may be
had from the study of nests of birds and animals, and of the
primitive products of the Indians of our own region. On
the latter, The Handbook of North American Indians edited
by Dr. F. W. Hodge {Bull, jo, Bureau of Amer. Ethnology,
2 vols. Washington, igi2) is a mine of information.

XXI. THE ICE-COAT ON Till-: TREES

"First there came do'cti a thawing rain
And its dull drops froze on the bouf^hs again;
Then there steamed up a freezing dew
Which to the drops of the thaw-rain gre^c;

And a northern whirlwind, wandering about
Like a wolf that had smelt a dead child out,
Shook the boughs thus laden and heavy and stiff,
And snapped them off with his rigid griff."

—Shelley (The Sensitive Plant).

Winter imposes some hard conditions u]:)on tree life. In
the "frozen north" there are no trees; and in our tem]jerate
clime there are only those that are able to withstand a long
period of inactivity, a succession of freezings and thawings,
and the hea\-y mechanical stresses im])osed by high winds
and snow and ice. The majority of our woody plants have
met the difficulties of the situation by dropping their leaves
on the approach of winter. Most of the tall conifers have
adjusted themselves to bear winter's white burden. While
retaining their leaves, the\' spread their branches horizontally
in whorls around a single ax'.s, and when the snow bends
theni, the higher branches rest u])on the lower from top to
bottom in mutual support. As Jolm Burroughs poetically
puts il, "The white pine and all its tribe look winter cheerily
in the face, tossing the snow, masquerading in arctic liver}', in
fact, holding high carnival from fall to spring."

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

164

THE ICE-COAT ON THE TREES 165

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

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

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

"The silvered saplings bending
Flashed in a rain of gems . . .

And amethysts and rubies

Adorned the bramble stems."

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

t66 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

Fortunately, the ice-coat, th<:) it docs niuch damage, always
confers some benefits on the trees. It ]:)i-unes them of dead
branches. Rotting of the trunk begins wherever a dead
branch persists too long. The ice greatly aids in their
removal.

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

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

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

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

THE ICE-COAT ON THE TREES 167

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

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

An additional study on The Snow-Coat of the Trees may be
made inxmediately after the fall of a soft heavy snow, before
it is disturbed 'by either wind or sun. Many of the same
phenomena noted in the preceding outline will be obser\^able.
There will be little damage to the trees obserA^ed; for the
snow, loosely piled, is easily dislodged. It is heaped up on
every possible support, and the dift'erences in the aspect of
the trees is due to the differences in the nature of the support
for the snow that they offer. Horizontal boughs are con-
tinuously robed in white ; erect boughs bear segregated snow
masses in their forks. Every stub and angle and bud is snow-
capped. Little hillocks of snow rest upon the upturned fruit
clusters of stmiach and wild cari'ot, and equally upon
the pendent clusters of ninebarks and mountain ash. The
bushy crown of close-growing shrubs are wholly enveloped in
a meshwork of white ; so, also, are the interlacing sprays of
witch-hazel and spreading dogwood. Great masses of white
rest upon the decHning boughs of hemlocks and other ever-
greens; and each of these masses in the spruce tenninates in
blunt finger-lil<:e processes, and looks like a great clumsy glove
backed with ermine. The color contrasts which the snow
makes with the dark boughs of the oaks, with the red t^vigs
of the osier dogwoods, and with the scarlet fruit of bar-
berries, are charming. Observing and recording such things
as these is a pleasant occupation for a stiU winter morning fol-
lowing a snowfall, when the out-of-doors is like a fair}- land.

XXil. MAPLE SAP AXD SUGAR

"/ wonder if the sap is stirring yet,
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,
If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun
And crocus fires are kindling one by one:

Sing, robin, sing;
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring".

— Christina C. Rossetti (The First Spring Day).

When our forefathers came to America, they found one
branch of the \A'orld's sugar industr\^ indigenous here. The
making of both s>Tup and sugar from the sap of the maple
tree had been practiced from tixae immemorial by the Indians.
Maple sugar was the coinmonest delicacy in their rather plain
and unattractive bill of fare. It appealed to the white man's
palate, and, after furs and com, it becajne one of the common-
est articles of barter and of commerce. It was especially
im]X)rt<ant to the early white traders along the St. Lawrence
river, for that stream traverses the heart of the maple sugar
region. The white man learned to make it, and soon it was
used in all the households of the pioneers. In the north-
eastern part of the United States and in adjacent portions of
Canada, maple sugar was for several generations the only
sugar to be had.

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

i68

MAPLE SAP AND SUGAR

169

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

Before the Indians, there were many animals that had dis-
covered the springtime sugar supply of the maple trees : sap-
suckers, that tap the trunlcs in the neatest
and most methodical and least injurious
way imaginable (fig. 65); and porcupines,
that strip the bark disastrously from young
trees, killing them outright; and red
squirrels, that gnaw little basins in the
upper surface of horizontal boughs and,
when these fill with the sap, come to the
basins for a soft drink (fig. 66). And
when these larger creatures set the sap
flowing, there are innumerable lesser
creattires, mostly flies and beetles, that come in swarms to
be partakers with them.

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

of temperature,

set the sap flow-
ing.

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

f-rrim omr i-n^ic- ^^^- ^6. A Squirrel drinking sap as it exudes from am

irom any mClS- bough (after Cram).

170 NATURAL HISTORY UF THE FARM

ion made tlirough the Ixirk, from every wound or
broken twig, the sap flows copiously. It flows first on
the sor.lh side of the tree, where the sun shines, and it
flows most cojiiously during the warmer part of the day.
It ceases at night when the treetop is cooled and the
pressure equalized. It slackens on cloud}' da>'s, and
ceases altogether wlien the ground gets warmer. The 1< )Tiger
the period of alternating bright sunshiny da\-s and sharp
frosty nights, the greater the amount of sap obtainable.
Tiie greater, also, is the drain of the food reser\'e of the
tree : but the provident maples store more than they need,
and they are not injured by the loss of such aj.ounts as may
be obtained by proper tapping. They often ha\'e to meet such
losses tlirough natural causes — such as the tappings of the sap-
suckers, and the "bleeding" from the stubs of broken boughs.
Other deciduous woody plants lose their sap in similar
ways. Every vine-grower knows that grape vines, trbnmed
at the time of abundant sap-flow, "bleed" profusely from the
base of ever>^ branch removed — so profusely, indeed, that the
plant may be wealvcned by such inopportune treatment. Ash
and elm and beech and butternut and other deciduous trees
will yield sap in its season, but only a few of the maples >deld
a sap tliat is sufhcient in quantity, rich enough in sugar, and
sufliciently well flavored to be important to us. The sugar
maple is the best maple, both in yield and in quality of
product: a variety of it known as the black maple, is
especially esteemed by many growers. Red and silver
maples yield a copious, but more watery sap. The Oregon
maple is a western species from which a little sugar is made.
The yield of the lesser maples and of the related box-elders is
of no consequence. Most tree-saps, on evaporation, will
yield some sort of a sweetish treacle; but only the maples
yield palatable syrups and sugars, whose fla\'or is improved
by the non-sugar>' natural substances present in the sap.

MAPLE SAP AND SUG.AR

171

The tapping of a maple tree, besides draining it of sap,
leaves an open wound in its trunk. It is essential to the
continued welfare of the tree that the tapping be done so as to
expose the interior as little as need be to the attack of fungi
and insects. A small hole, that will heal over completely in a
single season, is usually no more ' injurious than are the
perforations of the sapsuckers. Such a hole is no\vadays
bored in the trunk with a sharp bit.
It is slanted slightly upward, for easy
drainage. It is bored through the sap-
wood only, since the sap-flow comes
from the outer laA'ers and not from the
heartwood. A galvanized iron sap-
spout, having a hook to carry a pail,
is driven into the hole and left there
during the sap-gathering season. The
sap collected is freed of its. water by
evaporation, and freed of various
undesirable products by skimming the
surface as they are raised by boiling.
The owner of a "sugar bush" performs
these operations in the great furnace-
heated evaporating pans of his
sugar house. The small boy does them on his mother's
kitchen range; and if he knows the traditions of the sugar-
camp, he is sure to try pouring some of his syrup, when it is
thickening into sugar, out in Httle driblets upon the surface of
clean snow, where it will harden into that most delicious con-
fection known to the initiated as ''maple wax."

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

Fig. 67. Diagram to illus-
trate proper tapping of a
maple tree, a, sap spout
or " spile , " in an augur hole ,
and supporting a pail;
b, bark. The sap wood is
white, the heart wood is
shaded.

172 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

sources of suppl>', liavc cnonnously increased and chea[)ened
the product, and what was but recently a luxury in diet has
become a necessity. The su^ar increase has all come from
herbaceous plants, that may be quickly growTi— mainly sugar
cane and sugar beets. Doubtless these have permanently
occupied the field and maple sugar and syrup will never again
be staple products. Once they were groceries: now they
are confections.

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

Study 22. The Sap-flow and Its Beneficiaries

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

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

♦Some suggestion c)f it may I'C ()l)tained by reading Mrs. Comstock's
excellent account ot maple-sugar making in her Handbook of Nature-
Study, pp. 7 39-7-\i-

MAPLE SAP AND SUGAR 173

if water tight) to hang on the spouts and receive the sap;
also a cyanide bottle (see p. 217): these tools are mainly for
comjnon use. Also little individual tin spoons or straws
for use in tasting sap.

The program of work will consist of:

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

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

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

The gathering of the sap from the pails during the entire
period of flow, and the evaporation of it, are tasks too pro-
longed for a class exercise, and shotdd be arranged for b}^ the
instructor. The making of S3^rup or sugar from the sap is
accomplished by boiling to evaporate the excess water and
skimming to remove floating impurities, and may be done
indoors or out, and in amounts large or small by an^^one.
For syrup, the sap should boil until a thermometer immersed
in it (not touching the sides or bottom) registers 219 degrees
Farenheit; for sugar, until it registers 238 to 240 degrees.
After reaching this temperature, the fluid sugar should be

174

NATURAL inSTORV OF THE FARM

removctl from the fire, stirrcMl for a tune to secure unifomiity
of graTiulation. and then poured into sniall moulds of an>' sort,
paper or tin, to harden. No su^^j^estions as to the disposition
of the product will be needed.

The record of lliis study ma}' consist of :

1. A diai^-ani of the apj^iratus in place in a tree that is
properly tapped, with ex])lanations.

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

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

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

XXIII. NATURE'S SOIL-CONSERVING
OPERATIONS

'* Behold this compost! behold it well!
Perhaps every mite has once formed part of a sick person — yet behold!
The grass of spring covers the prairies. . .
The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all those strata of

sour dead. . . .
Now I am terrified at the Earth! it is that calm and patient,

It grows such sweet things out of such corruptions,
It turns harmless and stainless on its axis, with such endless successions of

diseased corpses,
It distils such exquisite winds out of such infused fetor.
It renews with such unwitting looks its prodigal annual sumptuous crops,
It gives such divine materials to men, and accepts such leavings from tJiem

at the last.''

— Walt Whitman {The Compost).

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

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

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

175

176

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

that docs not
ground-cover.

^'/.

FlftL»

Pig. 68. Diagram of a section of a pnrtly
wooded hill. /, oritjinal contour of the
hill slope; m, contour assumed after
tilling of the fiel Is; n, in-wash of soil
above; and o, out -wash of soil below.

extensively destroy the roots nor remove
She fines tlie surface with the heav-
ing of winter frosts. She
stirs the deeper j^arts by
the borings of earthwonns,
by tlie excavating of bum )\vs
for the homes of mammals,
and by the overturn of the
roots of windfall trees. It
is here a little and there a
little, but in the long run it
is thoroughly done.

We can see the contrast be-
tween nature's soil manage-
ment and our own on almost any slope where both fields and
woods occur. Wherever their boundaries run horizontally, such
contours as are indicated in figure 68 result from the rapid
sHpping away of the topsoil of our tilled fields. A ridge is
formed along the edge of the wood when the bare field lies
above it : the soil washed from the field is held by the ground
co\-er herbage at the edge of the woodland. When the field
lies below, a hollow is fomicd at the edge of the wood where
the tree roots cease to hold the soil together. To be sure,
gravity is always operating, and the soil of the woods is slowly
shifting to lower levels ; but it is only in the fields, where the
ground-cox'cr is removed and the root-hold periodically
broken, that the process goes on so rapidly that the soil seems
to melt and vanish before our eyes; it is only here and wdth
very bad management, that the organic products of one
season arc all taken from it before the next season comes
around.

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

NATURE'S SOIL-CONSERVING OPERATIONS

177

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

\ .

xx\

Fig. 69. A skeletonized leaf of cottonwood.

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

178 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

such leaves will be fouml. Commingled with the leaves are
])ieces of stems and bark and t^^^gs. Strips of birch bark
lon.t^ persist, being rendered well-nigh moisture-proof by
their abimdant resin.

Under the rccogniziible lea\-es and twigs is humus, formed
from those that fell earlier. It is black and full of moisture.
It is mingled with the top layers of the soil. As we uncover
the floor of the leaf-beds, we see some of the agents nature
uses in promoting the formation of humus: molds and
mildews and other fungi of many sorts, that grow in and dis-
integrate the plant-stuffs; snails and earthwonns and mille-
pedes and pill-bugs and spring-tails and many insect larv^ae
that eat them. Carnivores are here, also; ground-beetles
and centipedes and spiders, among the lesser forms, and
salamanders and shrews, among those of larger size. The
beds of leaf -mold have a population of their own. All are
hastening the restoration of the useful j^lant materials to the
soil. Numberless roots are holding the humus together.
The>' ne\'er let go; this is nature's way of keeping the soil
productive. It is only after we have dug down through the
humus-stained top layers that we come to soil that looks
hke that in the fields.

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

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

NATURE'S SOIL-CONSERVING OPERATIONS 179

Study 23. Observations on Leaf-mold and Woodland Soil

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

The program of work will consist of :

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

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

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

The record of this study will consist of:

1. Notes on the leaf -bed as to:

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

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

3. Diagrams of soil disturbance:

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

XXIV. THE PASSING OF THE TREES

"My heart is a:ced within me when I think

Of the great miracle that still goes on,

In silence, round me — the perpetual work

Of the creation, finished, yet rene-wed

Forever. Written on thy works I read

The lesson of thy own eternity.

Lo! all grow old and die— but see, again,

How on the faltering footsteps of drcay

Youth presses — ever giy and beautiful youth

In all its beiutiful forms. These lofty trees

Wave not less proudly that their ancestors

Moulder beneath them. Oh, there is not lost

One of earth's charms: upon her bosom yet.

After the flight of untold centuries,

The freshness of her far beginning lies

And yet shall lie."

— Bryant (Forest Hymn)

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

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

i8o

THE PASSING OP THE TREES

i8i

Fig. 70. Three insect larvae that
hve in logs, x, a carpenter-worm ;
y, a wire-worm; z, a snipe-fly larva
{Xylophagus) .

proceeds. She uses insects, also,
in great variety. Wood-borers
and carpenter-worms penetrate
to the heart of the soHd trunks,
in their feeding operations, open-
ing passage ways for the water
and for fungus spores . Engraver-
beetles, excavating their nests of
wonderful design, loosen and
perforate the bark. Wire-worms
and firefly larv£E perforate the
log heaps when in a crumbling
red-rotten condition; and white
grubs m.ix the last recognizable
remnants with the soil. So
are the largest organic bodies on the earth reduced to
earth again, and their masses of food materials put again into
circulation; and in the process, generations of lesser organ-
isms have been fed and housed. This is nature's method.
Of course, the population of these logs does not consist of
herbivores alone. Wherever fungi and herbivorous animals
flourish, their enemies are siure to find them. Stripping
off the bark from an old log, we are pretty sure to find
fungus-eating animals of several sorts: various beetles,
cockroaches, millepedes, sow-bugs and the minute white
cylindric legless lavvse of fimgus-gnats
carnivores — centipedes, ground
beetles, fireflies, etc., searching
for animal prey. Even in the
burrows of the heartwood borers,
occur parasites that have found
their well-sequestered victims.
Then there are vertebrate ene- ''^g;JL^offoS!^"rfi?e-'flT(ia^'5-
mies, also— salamanders, that iS^)."' ^ ^^^"'^"^^^^ ^^"^^^y

Also, we find true

I82 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

squeeze in under the loose bark; woodpeckers, that cut
deep holes to find the borers; and raccoons and bears
that tear rotten lo<,-s to pieces with their claws, searching
for grubs to eat. Each fallen log is a center of considerable
resident population, and entertains numerous foreign visitors.
A few of the more common and characteristic residents are
shown in figures 70 and 71.

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

I. Caterpillars, (Order Lepidoptera) having a long cyl-
indric bod}', with a bro\\Ti shield covering the first segment
behind tlie head, and a tuberculate, spinous skin. These are
moth lar\'ns fig. 7o.r.

II. Beetle larvae, (Order Colcoptcra) having a distinct
head, usually small legs also, no hvovm shield on the first
segment after the head, and a great variety of form and sire.
Beetles are the most important of wood-destroying insects,
and a nu:nber of the families of beetle lar^^ae may be recog-
nized by the following characters :

1. The tme borers (members of the families Buprestidae

and Cerambycidaj), ha\'ing the long, straight body
greatly widened and flattened toward the front
end, the skin naked, pale and wrinkled, and the
legs rudimentary. These perforate the hardest
woods.

2 . The engraver-beetles (Scohlidrc) , having short, thick,

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

3. "Wire-worms" (Elaterida?), having very smooth

cyUndric, elongate bodies, small legs, shining
yellowish or brown skin, and a homy disc ter-
minating tlie abdomen above, tlie margin of the
disc being toothed or sculptured (fig. ^oy).

THE PASSING OF THE TREES 183

4. "Glow-worms" (Lampyrida)), having the body

elongate tapering to the ends, flattened on the
back, with weU-developed legs and usually a pig-
mented skin.

5. "White grubs" (Scarabasid^), having the short thick

body bent double upon, itself, so that the grub lies
on Its side, the legs well developed, the white skin
bristly, and the blunt hinder end of the body
smooth and shiny.

6. Pyrochroid beetle larv^ (Pyrochroida^) , having the

body very thin and flat, its sides parallel, the legs
weU developed, the skin brown, and a pair of stout
upturned hooks at the end of the abdomen.

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

1. Fungus-gnat Iar^^ae (Mycetophilid^), of minute size,

white and soft, usviaUy occurring gregariously
imder bark.

2. Snipe-fly larvae (Leptid^), of similar form but larger

and with the pointed front end of the body of a
deep brown color, usuaUy found in rotting wood
(fig. 702)

3. Crane-fly larvffi (Tipulidag), less tapering, more cylin-

dric, with the head end more blimtly pointed, and
with a respiratory disc upon the rear end in the
midst of which may be seen the openings of a pair
of breathing tubes. Skin tough and more or less
leathery.

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

l84 NATUR.\L HISTORY OF THE FARM

One obscr\'cs in the w<x)ds that different kinds of logs ha\c
very different behavior in decay. Certain kinds, Hke poplar
and willow, decay rajMcUy and soon disappear. Others, like
chestnut and c\])ress, long persist. Some, like the oaks, lose
the bark and sapwood quickly while the heartwood is still
sound: others, like the yellow birch, preser^-e the hollow
cylinders of bark intact, long after the wood has decayed and
fallen from them. One finds the segments of the bark of
birch kicked about over the forest floor, long after the
trunks have vanished. The resinous knots of the pines
persist far beyond all other parts of the tree. And with the
differences in the character and content of the trunlvs, go
differences in the population. The insects and fungi that
work in pine logs are not the same species that work on logs
of oak or willow.

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

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

THE PASSING OF THE TREES 185

Study 24. Observations on the Decay of Fallen Trees

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

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

The record of the work may consist of :

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

2. A table of the wood-inhabiting insects found, prepared
with column headings as follows :

Name of insect (ask instructor, if you do not know it).
Stage found (larva, pupa or adult).

Kind of tree (wliite oak, linden, etc.).
Inhabits I ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ (bark, sapwood, heartwood, etc.).

Condition (sound, red-rotten, white-rotten,
etc.).
Burrow (depth, form, direction, etc.).
Products (chips, borings, dust, etc.).
Occurrence (rare, common, abundant, etc.).
Remarks.

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

XXV. THE FENCE-ROW

"/ wander lo {he zii^zafi-corNered fence
Where sassdfras, intrenched in brambles dense,
Contests with stolid vehemence

The march of culture, setting limb and thorn
As pikes against the army of the corn."

— Sidney Lanier (Com).

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

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

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

i86

THE FENCE-ROW

187

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

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

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

[88

KATUR.\L HISTORY OF THE FARM

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

Events have moved raj^idly since tliat day. The rail-
splitter is well-nigh extinct. The rail fence has become
expensi^'e, and wire is taking its ]:)lace. Another generation
wdll see little of tlie old fonn of wooden fence, which in our
day still exists side by side with modem wire and ancient stone.
WTiatever the fonn of a fence, if it bound a tilled field, it is
bordered by a strip of ground, at least as wide as a whiffle-
tree is long, that is a tension zone of wild life. On one side is
the fence ; on the other, the furrow. Between extends a strip
of sod that the plowshare camiot reach, and this sod is full
of lusty wild tilings, all struggHng for a place and a living.

If the fanner mows it con-
stantly, grass sod develops
as in a meadow ; if he mows
it annually in wdnter, shrubs
and vines possess it; if he
neglects to mow it for a few
years, trees come in. What-
ever plants grow in it, it is
a haven of refuge for their
wild animal associates; if
only grass sod, meadow-mice
and shrews will make their
nmwa\'s under its cover; if
briers and grass grow
together, rabbits wall make their forms or dig their bur-
rows in the midst of it. Every post or stake or high
point in the fence is a point of outlook and a resting-
place for the birds of the fields. Perching, they drop the
seeds of berr}'-bearin^ shrubs and vines. So, we see dog-
woods and elders and sumachs and chokecherries and bram-

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

THE FENCE-ROW

189

Fig. 73. May-apple — fine wild herb
that lingers in the fence-row.

bles springing up everywhere, and wild grape, woodbine and
poison-ivy climbing up the posts. But, however much grain
the farmer may have spilled on the sod, we do not find grain

growing there. Our cultivated
grains are weaklings, requir-
ing constant coddling.

Just what we do for them
when we break the sod, may be
seen on the furrow side of the
fence-row. If here and there
be an overturned sod that has
escaped subsequent tillage, we
see the wild things have been
cut off far below the ground and
tiu*ned upside dowTi. Thus we kill some of them, and give
others a bad set-back, and leave the severed roots of all of
them (excepting such as sassafras) to rot in the ground. But
as our plowshare cuts, our mold-board breaks the sod while
turning it over, leaving it more open to the air, and favoring
new growth of roots. The difference made in texture may be
proved by probing with a stick , and the effect of subsequent
tillage as well, if we probe both the sod, turned and im-
turned, and the mellow root-free soil of the field.

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

190 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Study 25. Observations on Fence-rows
The program of work for this study will consist of:

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

2. A detailed study of the po])ulation of selected strips of
fence-row, as to the lai;ger plants and animals it helps sustain.

The record of this study may consist of :

1. Notes as to condition^ obtaining in half a dozen of the
different fence-rows observ^ed.

2. Annotated lists of the population of the fence-rows
selected for special study:

(a) Plants, with notes on the kind, size, gro\vth-

habit, mode of propagation, abundance, etc.

(b) Animals, as indicated by "signs" of their occur-

rence, burrows, runways, nests, borings,
tracks, hair, feathers, etc., with notes on
haunts, abundance, etc.

XXVL THE SPRING BROOK

"Oh, for a seat in some poetic nook,
Just hid with trees and sparkling with a brook.'*

— Leigh Hunt.

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

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

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

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

191

19:

NATUR.VL HISTORY OF THE FARM

and sparkling, of a \o\y and constant temperature, "VNith a low
oxygen content, and, owing to prolonged contact wnth the
soil, with a high niincral content that varies much according
to the character of the soil traversed. Deposits of sul]:)hur
and of iron are often fonncd about the mouths of mineral
s]M-ings. But where the ordinary spring bubbles up, one
usually sees only miniature deltas of clean-washed sand at the
bottom of a lim^^id pool, which clears itself quickly after
roiling.

Spring water has a population of its own.
Man and bird and beast are transient
visitors who only quaff its waters; but
there are other creatures, that pennanently
dwell in them. They are things that cannot
endure too great heat in summer or freezing
in winter: things that like low equable
temperature and partial shade. The most
characteristic plant that grows in spring
water is water cress (fig. 74) ; it was used
by the pioneer to garnish his meat platter,
and it is still so used. There are water-
mosses, also suited to such a habitat, and
many lesser alga3 of various kinds, both
green and bro^^^l.

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

Fig. 74. A leaf of
watercress.

THE SPRING BROOK

193

silt on the pool-beds; wonns, by planarians
gliding over the stones of the bottom, and by
Tubifex, in tubes in the bottom mud, wa\dng
their long, lithe, filamentous, red bodies in the
water ; and insects, by a number of inhabitants
of the submerged vegetation — caddis-worms
(fig. 76), mayfly n3Tnphs (fig. 23), midge larvae
(fig. 24), etc., and by a few bniTowers in the
bottom. The spring brook docs not harbor
mosquitoes, but horse-fly larvae (fig. 77) live in
the soft bottom and emerge in midsummer
to annoy farm animals.

As compared with the population of warm
and stagnant pools, the denizens of the spring
brook are few, and many of them are so
restricted by conditions that, wherever they
are found, they serve as an indication that the

water is pure and cool and permanent. The spring brook

sustains the life of

these, and helps sus-
tain innumerable

others that come and

go, or that dwell

about its borders. Bryant has sensed this in his "Forest

Hymn,":

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

Pig. 75. A com-
mon spring-in-
habiting sala-
mander (.SpC'
lerpes) .

Fig. 76. A caddis-worm {Phryganea).

Fig. 77. A horse-fly larva.

194

NATUI^AL HISTORY OF Till- FARM

Study 26. Observations at a Spring

Any clcar-flo\\'ing permanent s])ring will do for this study —
whether * 'improved' * \\ith a basin or a spring-house, or not. A
time of freshet should be avoided: low water is ]-)referable.
The individual cqui])ment needed will be a flat dish (like a
white-enameled vegetable-dish) and a hand dip-net, with,
possibly, a few vials to hold specimens pending their identi-
fication. For common use, a pail, a garden-rahc and a
thermometer should be provided.

The program of work will consist of:

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

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

The record of tliis study may consist of:

1 . A map of the emdrons of the spring, including a bit of
the outflowing brook, showing topograph\% outcropping
strata, riffles and pools.

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

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

(a) For plants, giving name, kind of plant, growth-

habit, relative abundance, etc.

(b) For animals, giving name, kind of animal, situa-

tion in which found, rc]:itivc abundance,
economic importance, etc.

XXVII. NATURE'S OFFERINGS FOR SPRING
PLANTING

"J should like to live, whether I smile or grieve,
Just to watch the happy l.'fe of my green things growing".

— Dinah M. Muloch (Green Things Growing.)

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

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

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

196

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

leaves and flower-stalks, this is not the season for moving
them — they arc for fall planting. We will c<")nsider only
younj^ stock, in condition f(jr removal and ready for active
growth. We need not look where there has been much
mowing or close grazing, or where severe fires ha\'e run.
These cxtenninate all the tender green things. But in
almost any place where fairly natural conditions remain, we
may ex'/)ect to find young plants of each species commingled

with the old. Let us make the
old fi-uiting plants our guide in
finding the less conspicuous and
less easily recognizable younger
generation. Under and near by
the old flowering-dogwood tree, for
example, we may find a few little
dogwoods that ha\'e sijrung up
from seeds. If there appear to
be none, let us look closely, for

The
growing in'^'the sccds oftcu tcquire se\'eral years
to genninate, and the seedlings
under fa^^orable conditions may grow but a few inches a }'ear.
But the puniest of the little shade-dwarfed seedlings that \Te
may find, will respond wonderfully if set out in a nursery t< )w,
where they ha\'e plenty of room and light. They \\'ill soon
make fine trees.

Figure 78 is a diagram of a ninebark growing at the edge
of a lawn. From its swollen pods hundreds of thousands of
seeds are shed e\'ery year. They are sown about over the
grass, or tossed more widely when the wind sways the
bushes. Sooner or later, most of them gemiinate and a few
succeed in striking ro( )t in tlie soil and in lifting their pretty
green leaves to the light. The mowing of the lawn clips their
tops ; but many of these seedlings have leaves that are below

Seedling ninebarks in the 11 11

the old shrub; b. the QOg^VOOdS COmC On Slowly.

Fig. 78
lawn.

little seedlings in the grass
older seedling
shelter of the fence.

NATURE'S OFFERING FOR SPRING PLANTING 197

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

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

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

198

NATURAL HISTORY OF TlIK FARM

Yet some sun'ivc. Kach wild species holds its own. In
the nice balance of nature, enough arc produced so that, after
all the losses from casualties and enemies, a few will still be
livin<^ on. A few will ha\-e found the chance ])laccs of security
and of oi)portunity and will be carr\-ing the race forward.
It is nature's method — wasteful of individuals but careful of
the species. It necessitates that she should keep her nursery
full.

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

Fi'^. 70. An uprooted branch of coclcle-mint; a, the old
dead flowering stem; b, h. two new shoots, ready for
the coming season; c, c. buds that will produce shoots
for the year thereafter.

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

NATURE'S OFFERINGS FOR SPRING PLANTING 199

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

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

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

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

200 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Thc\' nc\-cr let ^o. Slow as is this method of propagation, it
still means a steady annual increase and results in mutual
crowding. Each oiTset tends to form a clump, and each
clump a thicket. Some plants like — cockle-mint and pearl
achille, increase in this way so quickl}^ that, for best results
in flower production, they need to be dug up, divided and
replanted every second year. Most herbaceous perennials
need this treatment e\-er}' few years. Both the number and
the kind of offsets produced give a hint of the future beha\'ior
of the plants. If there be only a few little offsets close against
the base of the old stem, as in the tall lobelias (Lobelia cardi-
nalis and L . syphilitica) one knows the plants will spread slowly
and stay where placed; but if the underground shoots are
both ver>" long and numerous, as in the paniclcd white aster,
one knows the plant is likely to spread. He who digs them
should dig obser\'antly, learning thereby how to plant them
again in a new place.

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

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

2. To plant the tallest growing forms at the back and the
lowest at the front, so that the lowest foliage masses \\ill
drop gently do\\ii to the greensward.

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

NATURE'S OFFERINGS FOR SPRING PLANTING 201

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

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

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

Then, we may
plant for fra-
grance of leaves
or flowers, for
succession of
bloom through-
out the growing
season, for au-
tumnal colors of
leaves or \vintcr
colors of bark or
berries, or for
any other effect
that suits our
fancy; nature
has something
for every place
and purpose. In
the wildwood we may see under what conditions each
thing thrives best. And anyone can plant successfully who
will observe and imitate nature's ways of using each sort.
If we wish to attract birds, we will plant berry-bearing
bushes and vines : such shrubs as buffalo-berry, shadbush,
black-berried elder, viburnums, wild black currant, and
blueberries: such vines as wild grape, honeysuckles and
clematis.

A spray of sweet-fern (Cotnptonia asplenifolia) .

202 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Suggestions as to the natural functions of such materials in
the beautifying of our cn\'ironincnt will be found in
Chapters i6, 32, and 48. In the unmutilatcd wildwood one
may see what elements of grace or of beauty each species
may lend to a landscape. Let no one dcsi)air of having
his place well planted for lack of means: there is little
relation between money-cost and real beauty. Many of
the most beautiful things require only to be ])lanled in
suital )lc places. Good taste is what is needed, and an a])preci-
ation of the requirements of the plants as to food, water and
sunlight. Beautiful plantings consist only of plants well
placed and well grown; and many wild things, that are to
be had for the digging of them, will grow better and fit
better than will any costly exotics.

Study 27. Wild Perennials for Spring Planting

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

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

NATURE'S OFFERING FOR SPRING PLANTING 203

The record of this work may consist of :

1 . In the case of seedlings, such data as the following :

a. Statistics of the number of seedlings of different

sizes in a given area.

b. Map showing the location of seedlings in relation

to the parent tree.

c. Diagrams of the form of seedlings of different

ages and grown under different conditions.

d. Comparative statement concerning all the differ-

ent kinds of seedlings found and the years
required to attain to "planting size" for land-
scape use.

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

a. Diagram of the principle mode of new plant

production.

b. Records for all the forms studied, of the usual

nimaber of new shoots produced in one season
from a single crown; also the length of these
shoots (as determining the ability of the species
to spread).

3 . In the case of all the foixas studied, a tabular statement
under column headings as follows :

Name of plant.

-P, . ^ ^ ^ moisture.

Reqiurement as to

sunlight.
Fruiting age.
Fruiting size.
Mode of increase.
Time of flowering.
Valued for what decorative quality.
Limitations as to its use.
Remarks.

204 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

II. The program of work may better consist in the gather-
ing of wild stulT and the setting of it in permanent plantings
where such are needed, and where the beautiful wild things,
so rapidly disappearing, may be presen'cd for future genera-
tions. Something more educational than the ordinary *'ivy
day" and "arbor day" pcrfonnances is here proposed, tho it
should have the same patriotic significance. If the school
have a ground-plan, let some bit of ground, some bank or
border, be assigned to the class for planting. Let the
teacher have a planting-plan of the usual sort, but lacking the
names of exotic plants, "^ath only the size and character of
the plants indicated. Let teacher and class together seek
out, gather and plant suitable wild things. For the sake of
acquaintance \sdth the plant characters, all should participate
in the digging of the stock. The resetting may often better
be done by division of labor. Wild plants should be obtained
where overcrowded or where in danger of extermination, and
those that are flourishing in suitable places should be let
alone. Othcn\dse, ill-considered and unsuccessful efforts at
transplanting may only hasten their extermination. The
best success with trees and shrubs will lie in taking them
when little and setting them first in a nurser}^ and gi\'ing them
time to grow.

The record of this work may consist in :

1. A diagram of the area planted, with plants named in
the diagram.

2. A table of characters of the plants used, such as is
indicated under 3 above.

XXVIII. THE CUT-OVER WOODLAND THICKET

"For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down,
that it will sprout again.
And that the tender branch thereof will not cease;
Though the root thereof wax old in the ground
Yet through the scent of water it will hud
And put forth boughs like a plant."

— The book of Job, 36:14

When the great trees are felled, and the forest cover is
removed, if nothing more be done, no plowing or pasturing,
then the underlings have their turn. Weakling dogwoods
and elders and other shrubs that have been leading a lingering
existence under the shadow of the oaks and elms, take a new
lease on life. They flourish inordinately. They form great
climaps, covered with bloom in summer and heavy with fruit
in autumn. Their stems are no longer thin and scattered,
but stout and aggressive. They spread and try to cover the
whole of the area on which before they had such a slender
hold.

But there is hope of a tree — of some trees. The pine tree
dies when cut down; but most trees sprout again. They
send up a circle of lusty shoots, which, ere the end of the first
season, are competing with each other for light and standing-
room. Ere the end of the second season, the biggest sprouts
are overtopping the competing shrubbery; and thereafter
their real competition is with each other. They grow and
spread, and gradually bring the imderling slirubbery into
subjection again.

So, after the cutting of a wood, the first season it looks thin
and bare, and the stumps stand out boldh\ The second
season, it is covered with copses of spreading bushes and
clusters of sprouts hiding the stumps. For a few succeeding
seasons, it is a mixture, indiscriminate and dense, of small

205

2o6 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

trees and bushes; and then\'iftcT it is a wood a^^ain, at first
impenetrably dense, but after many years, after time for the
formation of a permanent forest cover and for the death and
removal of the shaded undergrowth, it becomes open and
shadowy again.

The thicket is thickest at the time when the shrubs have
reached their maxnnum and the young trees are beginning to
press them back again; and at no time is a wood more
interesting. Here one may sense the meaning of the struggle
for existence, the peaceful, eflective, uncompromising, eternal
struggle of the battlefield of nature. Here is a forest society,
composed of a mixture of plants, large and small, that have
dwelt together for ages. It is temporarily upset by the
invasion of the woodman's ax, and is in process of readjust-
ment — of getting its balance again. Here are stumps dead
and rotting, and other stumps green and sprouting. Here are
poor standing remnants of a former forest gro\Hh. Here are
shrubs that once struggled along in the shadow, now luxuri-
ating in the light and crowding one another, and trying to
smother the small trees ere they get their heads above the
general coverlet of green. Outside, when the leaves are on, it
all has an aspect of rich verdure, but if one look underneath,
the abundance of dead stems there bears testimony of the
severity of the struggle.

Woody plants dominate the situation, but they have
herbaceous associates, dwelling with them whether the cover
be forest or shrubbery. In the leaf-mold are the roots of
many little things — bloodroots andtrilliums, adder's-tongues,
squirrel-corn, and other early blooming-flowers, that make
the most of the spring sunshine before the upper leaves come
out to shade them. Ferns, also, and thin wood grasses and
sedges and slender wood asters and goldenrods keep their
places in the intcr\-als between the clum])S, persisting through
the great struggle for place that goes on over their heads.

THE CUT-OVER WOODLAND THICKET 207

Study 28. The Cut-over Woodland Thicket

A patch of woodland that has been cut over rather closely,
and left for som<e years untouched, should be selected for this
study. Only the rnore typical portions will show the phe-
nomena this study is intended to illustrate. The invading
population of the roadways and more open places may be
passed by.

The program of work will consist of:

1 . A brief examination of a bit of natiu*al uncut woodland,
especially with a view to noting the condition and size of the
plants of the undergrowth when a forest cover is present ; this
to serve merely as a basis for comparison.

2. A more detailed examination of the cut-over tliicket,
as to its constituent woody plants, their size and condition as
indicating the natiu-e of the struggle for existence between
them, and the progress of forest restoration.

The record of this study may consist of:

1 . A diagram of a vertical section of a typical portion of
the thicket, including tree-remnants, sprouting stiunps, and
shrubs, large and small, of the commoner sorts, in their
proper relations. Possibly the growth may be such that a
sprout thicket and a bush thicket may be better shown
separately (Bramble thickets, being the special subject of
Study No. 44, may be omitted here).

2. An annotated list of the woody components of the
thicket. The notes should include, besides name (which
instructor will furnish if needed), kind of plant (tree, shrub
or vine), growth-habit (erect, spreading, climbing, etc.),
reproductive method (sprouts from stumps or from the
ground, stolons, etc.), average present size and condition,
relative abundance, with special indications of the valuable
tree species present, and remarks on the chances of restora-
tion of valuable woodland.

XXIX. THE WILD SPRING FLOWERS OF THE

FARM

' ' Take of my violets! I found them where
The liquid south stole o'er them, on a bank
That leaned to running water. There's to me
A daintiness about these early flowers.
That touches me like poetry. They blow
With such a simple loveliness among
The common herbs of pasture, and breathe out
Their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts
Whose beatings are too gentle for the world."

— Nathaniel Parker Willis (April).

Warm sunshine, and the breath of a soft wind from the
south, and rills murmuring in every glen, and — surely there
must be wild flowers blooming in the woods. Let us go out
and find them. Some, like the hepaticas, will be peeping
from under the woodland carpet of sodden brown lea\'es—
peeping with eyes of a soft capti\-ating bab}'-blue. Some,
like the anemones, will be lifting their leafy sprays of pearly
white blossoms on grassy banks, in tufts of exquisite grace.
Some, like the marsh-marigolds, will be spreading their
shining leaves and bright golden flowers by the waterside
in cheerful array. Each in its ovm w^ay is brightening some
imspoiled spot of earth; and every year, in sjjring, all are
ready to greet and to cheer us again, like old friends. After
the barren winter, how welcome they are !

How diilerent they are in their behavior! The fugitive
flower of bloodroot shoots upward encased in a single huge
leaf, which then spreads out its broadly sealloix^d border,
making a fine backgroimd for a fine blossom. The adder 's-
tongue shoots out on its long slender stalk from between two
spotted leaves. The trillium flower unfolds from between
a whorl of three green leaves, held at the top of an erect
stem. These flowers come singly. But the flowers of the

208

THE WILD SPRING FLOWERS OF THE FARM 209

hepatica come all in a troop and imattended; the leaves of
the past season, still green, lie prone about them; those of
the coming season will shortly rise and expand — indeed, ere
the flowers have faded, a new crop of leaves may be seen
lifting their fuzzy tips all together. For hepatica has the
curious habit of producing its entire crop of leaves, as by a
single mighty effort, all at once, and holding them until the
next annual crop is matured.

Most spring flowers tend to form clumps or great masses
in the woods, and to this habit many charming effects in
wild-wood landscapes are due. Think of the banks you
have seen of moss-pink, or trilliimi, or columbine; the
levels covered with violets or bloodroot or spring
beauty! Mandrakes are gregarious and flock together
like sheep . They hang their big white flowers coyly under huge
umbrella-shaped leaves, and make a beautiful ground-cover
of shining green domes. Wild ginger also, hides its curious
brown-purple flowers under a beautiftd leaf -mosaic at the
very surface of the ground. The big white trillium lets its
flowers lop over on one side and holds them until they
turn rose-purple in fading.

It is not flowers alone for which these plants are desir-
able. Their foliage is often of beautiful design. Where
can there be found stronger simple outlines than those of
the leaves of the hepatica, bloodroot or bird's-foot violet?
Where, more airy, lacy effects than in the foliage of squirrel-
corn, anemonella, and early meadow-rue? Where, softer
leaf colorings than in adder 's-tongue, hepatica or the spathe
of Jack-in-the-pulpit ? The flower of the wild columbine is
splendid — and worthy of having been advocated for adop-
tion as the flower of the nation — but it is hardly more
pleasing than the finely cut, gracefully poised, silvery
tinted foliage, which lasts all summer long. Some bulbous-
rooted spring flowers, to be sure, lose their foliage before

210

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Fic. SI. Hrpatica.

niidsimuiuT, and disa|)])car iittcrl\' above ground until
spring comes around again; such are adder's tongue and
Dutclinian's breeches, and
others that grow in the deep-
est shades of the woods. But,
on the other hand, the foHage
of hepaticas and moss-pink
is evergreen.

Fine as are these \\ild
flowers, they are rapidly being
exterminated. Their value is
esthetic, not commercial. The
land they occupy is all being
taken from them for fields
and stock-pens. Long since,
they were driven from our

doors. Of late, with the pressure of men for room, with the
extension of fields, and especially with the pasturing of every
bit of woodland, they are being extenninated in their last
retreats. The time is coming when, if we would save them
for our posterity, we must get them back aUout our doors
again, where we can propagate them and protect them from
utter annihilation. They will grow there as well as in the
woods, if planted in suitable places. Of course, they mil not
grow on a smoothly mown lawn; but possibly the present
zeal for leveling ever}i:hing and. having only mown la%\'ns
about one's place may yet develop into something better.
Far more beautifid than grass as a ground-co\er for the
moist bank or for the shady place where there is no trampling,
is a growth of cominon blue violets or of bloodroot or of
wild ginger. Finer than any grass, for covering a dry sunny
bank, is a close gray-green carpet of moss-pink. Why should
one drain the low wet spot on his groimds, when he may, by
]^roperly planting it, ha\'e thcr(\ through the season, a

THE WILD SPRING FLOWERS OF THE FARM

211

succession of such beautiful flowers as the marsh-marigolds,
lady's-slippers. cardinal-flowers, and hibiscus, maintained
with a minimum of care. Why reduce everything to this
dead level of artificial mediocrity?

One should not *'rob the woods," where wild flowers
remain, and selfishly deprive others of the pleasure of seeing
them there. It is better to raise them from seeds, or to buy
from a dealer who raises them from seeds (and not from one
who is making a business of robbing the woods). But often
when a wood is being cleared for plowing, or a new road is
building, the wild flowers about to be destroyed may be
taken up and given a place of refuge in private grounds.

Success wdth growing wild flowers depends on one's
ability to take a hint from nature. Every plant has its
requirements of light and moisture, and one may Icam what
these are by observing under what conditions it thrives
best when wild. It is a waste of time and labor, and an
advertisement of stupidity, to set out wild plants where they
cannot possibly live. They are far better suited to informal
plantings than are expensive exotics, and once established
in suitable places they are practically self-sustaining.

Fortimately the wood-crop and the wild flowers grow
well together, and flourish on rough land not suitable for
tillage. Fortunately for the wild flowers, also, farmers are
learning that the woodlot is more productive when not
closely pastured. Often it has seemed to be the policy of
the farmer to include every bit of rough woodland, however
little forage it might afford, inside his pasture fence, on the
general theory that every green thing his cattle might eat
was clear gain to him. But of how much value in the diet
of an ox is a handful of lilies ? Yet if they be eaten or tramjv
led out of existence, how much beauty is lost! On many
farms a better spirit of enlightenment prevails. The woodlot
is outside the pasture fence; and, protected from grazing

212 NATUR.-\L HISTORY OF THE FARM

and trampling and fires, the wild tilings again take possession
of the banks and dells and ledges. It is at once a better
woodlot and a wild flower rescr\'ation, and ser\-es both use
and beauty. Hai)]^ily, the day is passing, when to help
fill the paunch of some cattle-beast will be considered the
chief end of every green thing growing ^^'ild on the fann.

Study 29. Wild Spring Flowers of the Farm

The program of the work for this study w ill consist of a
visit to some native bit of woodland where the \\-ild life has
not been extenninated, and of an examination of the wild
flowers, one by one, observing where they grow and what
manner of life they lead.

The record of this study ma\' consist of:

1. A map of a small woodland glade, with indications
thereon of the distribution of the common kinds of wild
flowers in relation to slope, moisture, shade and forest cover.

2. A table of all the wild flowers found, prepared with
some such coltunn headings as the following:

Name (ask instructor if you do not know it).

Stem (erect, trailing, creeping, underground, simple,

branched, leafy, naked, etc.).
Flower (color, odor, form, size, etc.).
Flower-cluster (diagram).
Foliage (leaf -form, color, texture, etc.).
Situation (wet or dry, in sun or in shade).
Social habit (Solitary, commingling, cover-fonning, etc.).
Remarks.

" 'That little patch,* said a successful flower-grower to me the other
day, pointing to a bed of some rare daffodils about four fcn^t by five, *is
worth fifty pound?.' I tried to look duly impressed: but I bethought
me of a certain streamlet thickly, but not too thickly, edged with king-
cups, which, if human delight were the measure of value, must have
been worth fully fifty millions." — Hubert P. Bland.

XXX. WHAT GOES ON IN THE APPLE BLOSSOMS

*' Around old homesteads clustering thick they shed

Their sweets to miirm'rifig bees;
And o'er hushed lanes and wayside fountains spread
Their pictured canopies.'''

— Horatio H. Powers {Apple Blossoms)

Sweet is the scent of the orchard in May. When the apple
trees array themselves in pink and white it is the time of a
great annual festival. The apple tree is host. In every one
of its florets a place is spread for a little winged guest. The
food is nectar and pollen, provided in lavish abundance. A
brilliant company of bees and flies and butterflies are guests.
The merry activity runs for days together, heightening when
the sun shines brightly. It is held at the opening of the
summer season, and the serious work of producing an apple
crop is dependent on the good will and patronage of these
visiting insects.

For, not all the pollen is eaten by them. Some of it is
carried on their bodies and implanted on the stigmas of the
flowers, where its growth results in the fertilization of the
ovules ; this conditions the development of fruit. To secure
this service, which the insects render unwittingly while satis-
fying their own appetites, the apple tree advertises its feast
by fringing each flower with a circlet of pinlc and wliite petals,
hung out gaily like banners, and sets a green dish in the center
filled with drops of fragrant nectar, which perfumes the pass-
ing breeze. It also provides pollen greatly in excess of its
own needs and offers great bursting anthers full of it. Then
the bees come.

A honey-bee alights on the edge of a flower with her hind
feet clutching the petals and her head thrust in among the
stamens. She would like nectar; so she unslings her long

213

214

NATURAL HIST(JRY OF THE FARM

proboscis and thrusts its tip dow-nward between the bases of
the stamens into the nectar dish, lap])ing up wliat she can
reach. Then she raises her head and puslies her body
through and over the central clunip of stamens and st>'le tips,
and makes another downward thrust on^ the other side. In
doing this, she brushes roughly against bursting anthers,
filling the hairy coat of her body and legs with pollen; and
she rubs stigmas, also, depositing pollen u])()n their moist
tips.

Figure 83 shows
where the nectar is,
and ex])lains these
movements of the bees.
The nectar is in a basin,
out of the center of
which arise the fi\'e
stout styles, and it is
fenced round aboiit by
a close-set palisade of
stamens. It can be
reached only from above. It caimot all be reached from any
one position (hence the successi\^e tlirusts of the bee into the
flower). Owing to the close crowding of the stamens and
pistils, it can only be reached by a slender proboscis. This
feast is not to be wasted on any wandering insect that may
come along; it is reserv^ed for those that are endowed with
suitable nectar-gathering apparatus.

A little burrowing bee, Halicius by name, descends upon
the flower and goes tip- toeing upon the top of the stamen
cluster. She has a short proboscis that is quite unequal to
reaching do^^"n to the nectar-cup: so she gathers i^ollen and
in trampling about over the anthers tramples the stigmas as
well and de]X)sits pollen on them. A little grecn-and-gold
bee, Augochlora by name, of size intennediate between

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

WHAT GOES ON IN THE APPLE BLOSSOMS 215

the little halictus and the honey-bee, settling upon the
stamens, spreads them with her feet and pushes head down-
ward between until her not very long proboscis reaches the
nectar in the cup below. Bees are the most important pollen
distributors for apple blossoms: the larger ones seek both
nectar and pollen; the lesser ones, pollen only. Bees go
about the work in a brisk business-like way, passing rapidly
and directly from flower to flower, visiting many in ra.\nd
succession and gleaning their food products thoroly. They
are little disturbed by a person quietly watching them.

Perhaps the possession
of a sting may ha\'e
something to do with
this assurance of man-
ner.

At any rate, the sting-
less visitors of the apple
blossoms, true flies and
butterflies, behave very
differently. They flit
^^afte^/ketcaf).^^"' ""^ ^^''''"' -«-/—. ^^out ncrvously, mak-
ing circuitous flights
between visits, and manifesting great wariness. A hand-
some banded syrphus-fly (fig. 84) settles Hghtly upon the
stamens and laps up a little pollen with his proboscis and
is away again, being gone before one has discovered that
he is taking flight. A pretty nimble bee-fly darts up to a
flower, makes a thrust or two at the nectar-cup with its
exceedingly slender proboscis, and is away again. A fine
butterfly soars overhead, and finally settles upon a flower
cluster as if by accident, and sits there languidly dipping
the tip of his uncoiled proboscis into such nectar cups as
are in reach. Having greater length of proboscis than the
apple flower demands, he swings it around like a dipping-
crane. But he also darts away at the passing of a shadow.

2i6 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

The pollen of the apple is freely exposed, and there are many
chance \'isitors that nibble at it, such as house-flies and
beetles. But the insects that can reach the nectar are
rather few. Bumblebees and hone}'bees arc the most
persistent and efficient distributors of jx^llon. All the bees
are equipped for carr}'ing i:)ollcn abundantl\' b\' reason of the
bristb' plumose hairs that clothe their bodies, and tliat make
veritable pollen brushes (see figs. 105 and 106).

When rain falls constantly in blossojning tuinc, the apple
trees set little fruit because the bees are kci)t awa>' from
them: but when the sun shines, the busy hiun of their
prodigious acti\4t}' is the sure forerunner of an apple crop.

Study 30. Observations on Apple Blossoms and Their

Visitors

Tliis study should be begim at home, where one may sit
at a table and work carefully. With a bunch of fresh apple
blossoms in hand, notice first the difference in condition of the
flowers, from fresh unopened buds to spent flowers with
falling petals. Observe especially the condition of the tips in
the central cluster of stamens and pistils— the yellowish
anthers capping the nuinerous stamens, and the naked
stigmatic surfaces terminating the five pistils. Note care-
fully the changes of position and of condition during flower-
ing. Then split several flowers of different age in halves,
lengthwise, and look with a lens in the shallow green cup
surrounding the pistils and encircled by the bases of the
stamens for shining droj^lcts of nectar. Tlicn make a dia-
grajn of such a section, showing carefully the relative
position of anthers, stigmas and nectar at time of full
bloom.

The field work of this study will require fit weather. A
calm bright day \\'iU be best. Rain will dri\'e the flower
visitors away, and too much wind will interfere with observa-

WHAT GOES ON IN THE APPLE BLOSSOMS 217

tions on them. The tools needed will be indi\ddual insect
nets, C3^anide bottles* and lenses.

The program of field work will consist of a visit to apple
trees in full bloom and observations on the doings of the
flower visitors. Trees with low-hanging boughs, having
abuadant blossoms within reach from the ground, will be best.
If wild crab-apple trees or even haw-apples are more con-
venient, they will serve equally well. The visitors will be
seen, coming and going, or flitting from flower to flower, each
kind after its o^^^l habit. The bees may be captured in a
cyanide bottle directly, but the more wary flies and butterflies
will require the use of the net. A quick deft stroke will
land them in the net, and a quick turn of the handle will make
a fold in it and keep them in the bottom until they can be
removed in a cyanide bottle, inserted unstoppered for the
purpose. Effort should be concentrated on watching the
insects, not on catching them. Their conaings and goings
and how they obtain the nectar, should be observed care-
fully. Then a specimen of each kind of visitor should be
captured for identification.

The record of this study should consist of :

1. A diagram of a longitudinal section of the flower as
mentioned above.

2. A similar diagram, with a bee added in the position
taken when obtaining nectar. Show position of proboscis
and feet carefully.

*A cyanide bottle for killing insects may be made by placing half an
ounce, more or less, of cyanide of potassium (a deadly poison) in the
bottom of any wide-mouthed bottle, covering it with dry sawdust or
other good absorbent, pressing down on top of it a few discs of stiff
blotting paper, and affixing a POISON label. The discs should fit the
inside of the bottle tightly and will stay in place better if Hghtly gummed
at their edges when inserted. Most insects are very quickly killed when
shut inside. The nets also may be made at home but not so easily.
Those offered by the Simplex Net Company of Ithaca, New York, are
recommended as being light, strong and inexpensive.

2i8 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

3. A list of all the apple blossom \nsitors ol3served, with
data as far as obtainable incorporated in a talkie prepared
with the following coliunn headings:

Name (of the insect; ask the instructor if you do not

know it).
Seeking (pollen or nectar. Do not guess at tliis; better

leave the space blank).
Alights where (touching what parts of the flower).
Carries pollen on (what parts of the body).
Touches stigmas with (what parts of the body).
Reaches nectar with (what proportion of proboscis, or of
whole body, inserted into the flower)
per minute.
Nimiber of flowers visited - between flights (i.e. between

the longer flights).
Activity (relatively quick or slow, vcsltj or approachable,

direct or circuitous, etc.).
Fitness (well or ill-adapted for pollinating apple blossoms).

If there be any diffictdty arising out of the crowd, conclud-
ing observations may, with advantage, be made individually,
at one's o\\ti convenience.

XXXI. THE SONG-BIRDS OF THE FARM

'^The woods were filled so full of song
There seemed no room for sense of wrong."

— Tennyson.

Nothing is more natiiral than that we shotdd be interested
in birds. Their appeal to us is manifold. Their colors are
beautiftd, and the texture and design of their garb are elegant
beyond comparison. Their sprightliness is wonderful. They
flit from morning till night unceasingly, and traverse the air
with a freedom that often moves us to say, enviously, with
Darius Green, * 'Birds can fly, and why can't I?" When we
shall have * 'conquered the air", our flying bids fair to be
serious work rather than play, such as theirs is. Their songs
are the finest vocal expressions of the animal world — expres-
sions apparently of contentment, of tender sentiments and of
exuberant joy. Their nests show fine discrimination in the
selection and use of materials, artistic sense of decorative
values, and in their construction they disclose the elements of
basketry and carpentry, and of both plastic and textile art.
Their family life is nearly ideal ; the fidelity of mates to each
other and the devotion of parents to tjheir brood being such
as himian society aspires to, but has not yet fully attained.

And if aU these things were not enough, there would still
remain the practical consideration that birds aid us in our
agriculture. They feed on insect pests of field and orchard;
and if any one were so devoid of sentiment as not to like a
robin singing from the housetop, he might still appreciate the
bird when found devouring cutworms in the garden. It is
not economic, but esthetic values, however, that are to be the
subject of this study. Let us get acquainted with the birds
dwelling near us for the sake of the pleasure to be had from
personally knowing creatures so beautiful, so timeful and so
artful.

219

220

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

This is the a^e of birds. They outnumber, in species, all
other air-breathing vertebrates put together. Doubtless,
their ability to fly and there! >y to find food an'd to escape
enemies lias had much to (1( ) with this prcponderence. Hardly
any other li\-ing things have acquired such power of flight,
and no others have established regular seasonal
migi'ations between summer and winter homes.
A hundred or more species may be found in any
good locality in the course of a year — more than
half of them, song-birds. A few are pennanent
residents ; a few are winter visitors from the far
north; many are transient visitors that winter
south of us and summer north of us, and a sub-
stantial ntmiber, including all the song-birds that
we value most higWy, are summer residents.
These return to us e\'er3^ spring and settle and
build nests and sing and rear their broods. Who
does not feel a thrill of pleasure at the return
of the bluebird, that soft-voiced harbinger of
spring ?

Wild birds they are, yet they do not mind our

presence if we treat them well. And a number

of the most charming little birds will settle near

us and remain with us year after year if we

provide them suitable places for nest builcHng, located in

safe and congenial surroundings.

It is a ]:)leasant aspect of evolution to contemplate that the
birds we like best — the birds that sing and that fashion beauti-
ful nests and rear their young with most parental care — are the
ones that have been and are most successful in the race of life.
While a number of the smaller birds look much alike on
first approach, each species has its distinguishing peculiarities
that a little careful obsen^ation will reveal — peculiarities of
color and attitude, of flight and of notes, of haunts and of

Fig. 85.
Simple types
of home-
made nest-
ing boxes
for birds.

THE SONG-BIRDS OF THE FARAI 221

manners toward man and toward each other. A few, Hke the
crow and the jay, are so well marked as not to be mistaken.
The habit of running head downward along the bark of a tree
at once marks a bird as either a nuthatch or a creeper. The
songs are perfectly specific, and will often lead the careful
observer to the bird he is wishing to see. There is no need of
attempting to describe differences here ; for a morning in the
field with the birds is w^orth more than all the descriptions.

Study 31. Song-birds of the Farm

This study is intended primarily for those who do not know
the local song-birds at sight.* An instructor who knows
them is assumed; yet the student working alone may easily
do what is here outlined and identify his birds with the aid
of some of the excellent bird books now generally available.
Field glasses (or opera glasses) while not absolutely necessary
will be a great aid in field work on birds. Dry weather will
be desirable, and a shift of meeting time to an early morning
hour (when birds are most in evidence) may be advantageous.
Prepared bird-skins may be used by the instructor in point-
ing out recognition characters.

The program of work will consist of a short trip made
quietly along some woodsy lane where birds congregate, and
across upland and lowland meadows and by a willow-bor-
dered stream, observing the different species of song-birds,
one by one, as opportunity offers. Careful obser\"ation3 will
be needed to obtain the data called for by the table out-
lined below.

*For such members of the class as know the birds well, the instructor
may assign other work, such as intensive specific obser\'ations on some
one species of bird temporarily abundant and not too well known;
observations on such matters as its haunts and nesting habits, food and
feeding habits, voice and social habits, enemies and warning habits and
mode ot escape.etc. Or, better, such extended individual work as is
outlined in Optional Study 6 on page 229.

222 NATURAL HISTORY OF THi: FARM

The record of this study may consist of a table of
recognition characters of local song-birds, prepared with
coliLinn headings as follows:
Name of bird.

Haunts (be as specific as the facts will warrant in indicating
the kind of cover sought, and the habitual ek'\'ation, whether
in the treetops or on the tnmlvs, in the undergrowth or on the
ground, whether near or far from water, etc.)

At rest (give general color and chief

markings with their location on the

body — only such as can be seen at

a short distance on the living bird).

In flight ("flash colors"; i. e., addi-

itional marldngs that appear in

outspread wings and tail).

Perching attitude.

Social habit (nuinbcr seen together, resting or fljdng.

State sex, also, when distinguishable) .
Voice (briefly characterize notes of monologue, of social

converse and of song) .
Flight (undulating, straight or soaring: wing-strokes,

continuous or intennittcnt, etc.).
Familiarity (how close can you approach: estimate in

yards).
Remarks.

Recognition colors

XXXII. TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER
LANDSCAPE

^'The birch tree throws a scarf of green
• Around her silver white,

Woven of little polished leaves

All delicate and bright,
It sways with every passing air
And shimmers in the light.

Oh, like a Dryad nymph she stands,

The birch tree, silver white!
And all day long that flowing veil

Trembles for my delight.
She stirs it as she moves in it
As a young maiden might.''

— Ethel Barstow Howard (The Fairy Tree).

Out in the coiintr}^ wherever we go, trees rise about us
and bound our view. They make vistas along the road-
ways; they fringe the streams; and they gracefully mass
themselves about the shores of lakes and bays. In a new
country, they cover the valley-side with a rich robe of green,
and in an old country, they rise like oases about the homes
that nestle among the cleared fields. In their shelter our
race has always dwelt. When men settle upon a treeless
prairie, they take trees with them and plant them cosily
about for shelter, and use them to make a pleasing out-
look by bordering the view from the windows of their homes.

Trees furnish the chief elements of beauty in most land-
scapes, and usually those views are the most pleasing that
include the most trees. Near at hand, they rise about us
like the giants that they are, and show their individual
characters — their mighty trunks clad in bark, each with
its own coloring and sculpturing; their great anns and
crowns; and the elegant outlines of their leafy sprays out-
spread against the sky. At a little distance they appear,

223

224 XATUFLVL HISTORY OP THE FARM

not as indi\'i duals, but as masses, with their architecture
hidden, and their foHage piled in shocks of green, full of
lights and shadows. And on the far horizon they are still
in our \'iew, si^read out in innumerable companies in a
long thin line where overspread with pale haze.

The well-grown cliunp of trees shows us, from the out-
side, only its leaves, with just enough of glimi^ses of supijort-
ing framework to suggest stabiHty. The leaves are all on
the outside, spread out broadly to the sun. We put our
head through the leafy cover to the inside and look up — and
it is like looking into an attic, seeing beams and rafters in-
stead of familiar roofs. Inside all is gray bare boughs
forking, and forking again, and stretching up to and sup-
porting the overshadowing leaf -cover. We examine the
outside carefully, and w^e see that all the leaves are mutually
adjusted to get the maximum benefit from the light. The
removal of a single leaf alters and mars the adjustment;
the overtiuTL of a single spray sets it grotesquely awr\\

How the outside of a tree appears in the foreground of the
landscape, depends on the size and form and niunber of its
leaves, and on the way they are held up into the light. Foli-
age masses are endlessly varied. They are ciunulous niasses
in the sugar-maple — ^masses of broad, shade-resistant leaves
heaped u]) and compound-heaped hke the front of a thunder-
cloud. They are cancellate masses in the white birch, with
its small thin lea\-es in open order like latticework. They
are frondose masses in ailanthus and sumac and oilier trees
ha\'ing compound leaves. They are soft and fun-y c\iinders,
rather s^Tnmetrically arranged, in the spruces and tamarack;
and other trees show all grades between these tyix^s. Hick-
ories are given to be a bit irregular, and to hold their sprays
rather stiffly, while the beech lets the fringe of its leaf-cover
run down in long ornate spra>'s, that are poised in the
hollows of the woods with exquisite iTace. The softest ef-

TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER LANDSCAPE 225

fects of all are produced by the small pale lca\'cs of the
willow, which form fluffy cloudlike masses of green reposing
by the stream-side. There are other, stricter-growing
species of willow, whose shining leaves sparkle brightly in the
sunlight. Wind changes the color of certain foliage masses,
such as those of the white oak tribe, by overturning the
leaves and exposing to view their paler under surfaces. It
takes a hard wind to overturn the leaves of the speclded
alder, but when overturned, they entirely change the aspect
of the alder thicket.

Endless are the tints of green, also, in the trees of the land-
scape, ranging from the light silvery green of the white
willow to the heavy somber green of the white pine. Nature
uses other colors sparingly, only here and there lighting up
the edge with a show of flowers, as with masses of Judas-
trees, or flowering dogwood, or hawthorn.

Nature adorns every species of tree with its own graces of
form and color. None is like any other. Each looks best
where it grows best; for the handsome tree is, indeed, the
tree that is well gro^\^I.

When we walk beneath the trees of a forest cover, the
beauty of their foliage is lost on us, we are such p}'gmies,
walking beneath it : we must climb to some point of outlook
to see it. But when the wood is cleft, as by a stream, the
leafage comes down softly to the ground in all its beauty.
Viewing a steeply-rising wooded slope from the vantage
of the opposite bank, we may see how nature uses trees.
She plants them in masses, using a few of the best kinds in
vast numbers, and scattering the others thickly, but not too
thickly, about the edges. Always there is enough variety
to maintain our interest, and enough repetition of like
combinations to avoid weariness. Always there are vines
about the edges for drapery; and in the openings, shrubs
and herbage mask all the angles and cluster about well-

226 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

grown full-lcavcd single trees. So, nature makes of every
open wotxlland glade, a tkinning s>'lvan ])ictiire.

Study 32. Observations on the Decorative Features of
Tree Growth in Early Summer

The weather, when this study is undertaken, must be such
as ^^^ll permit one to sit do\\Ti out-of-doors and study for a
time, ^^^th comfort, the details of the landscape outspread
before him. If the student has no familiarity with the
decorati\-e values of foliage masses, let him read the preced-
ing pages while sitting where illustrations of the foliage
phenomena cited may be drawn from nature. One may
often see many foliage types by looking out of his window
over well-planted grounds, if native woods be absent.

Photographic prints, (preferably blue-prints), of the scenes
selected for S]:)ecial stud\', or maps sho^^ang outlines of tree
masses, may be prepared in advance and suppHed by the
instructor.

The program of work for this study ma}^ consist of :

1. An examination of the scaffolding by means of which
some broad-leaved tree holds its leaf masses up to the light,
and a comparison of method in solitary and clustered trees.
Also a comparison of imicr and outer aspects of some small
clump of trees.

2. An examination of leaf sprays as to leaf an-angement
and its relation to light cx])osure, and to the fonnation of
the larger foliage masses that adoni the landscape.

3. A detailed study of several landscapes, selected for
the beauty and variety of tree growth within the view.
Study the foliage masses formed by the different kinds of
trees, comparing them as to color, fonn and texture, setting
down as worthy of consideration whatever appeals to you
as being good to look upon, and indicating the features of it

TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER LANDSCAPE 227

that are to you pleasing. Also name the kinds of trees
responsible for such effects.

4. Comparison of well and ill-grown, unhealthy trees of
any species as to the decorative values of their leafage.

The record of the work may consist of:

1. Comparative diagrams showing framework and out-
line of :

(a) A single specimen tree, growing alone, unpruned.

(b) A clump of several close-growing trees of the same

kind, also unpnmed, forming a unit mass of leafage.

2. Comparative diagrams of leaf arrangement on a small
undergrowth spray of such trees as elm, maple and larch.

3. Indications (as footnotes to a photograph, or as
explanations to a map, or otherwise, as preferred) of the
character of foliage masses in the scenes studied, covering:

(a) The kind of trees involved in each type.

(b) Their height.

the contrast in the white birch.

(d) Color of crowns (light or dark green, dull or shining,

reactions to wind, etc.).

(e) Texture (open or close, light or heavy and somber,

etc.).

(f) Form (mass outlines and spray relations, etc.),

(g) Suited to a place in the foreground or in the back-
groimd; in the exposed or in the sheltered places; with
reasons therefor.

Individual Exercises for the Spring Term

Five sliuliis follow, \vhich, like those for the I'all Tcnn
(pages 126 ct seq.)y are intended to be made by the student
working alone. The first three may be entered \\\)o\\ early
in the term (in our latitude); the other two are for the
latter half of the term.

Optional Study 6. A Calendar of Bird Return

This study is a\ailable only to those who know the birds
at sight, or who are willing to take the necessary trouble
outside of this course to really make their acquaintance.
Doubtful identifications will render the record quite worth-
less. Permission to offer this record wall therefore have to
be obtained in ad\'ance of midertaking the work.

The object of this study is to give opportunity for extend-
ing personal acquaintance with our local migratory birds
on the part of students who already know them by sight.
Field observations, made at least once a week, may con-
veniently be entered in a cross-ruled table having the left-
hand colimin reser\'ed for bird names, and each of the other
colunms de\'oted to one da}-'s observ^ations, the date, time of
day, and relevant weather conditions being written at the
toj). Following each bird's name, there should be written
in the jjrojxT date colunms, the obsen-ations made uj^on it:
number and sex seen at first appearance; arri\'al of sexes,
and of young birds, separately; arrival of "waves" of
migrants; etc.

TREES IN THE EARLY SUMMER LANDSCAPE 229

Optional Study 7. A Calendar of Spring Growth

This study is for one's own dooryard. It is intended to
foster acquaintance with the plants one lives with all the
while. These are apt to be choice things that have been
sought out and planted, and other things that have come in
uninvited, and that we call weeds. Nature makes no dif-
ference in her treatment of them; the rain falls and the
Sim shines on them all alike. The following study should
be made with like impartiality. It should continue through
the entire term, observations of every actively growing
species being made at least once a week. All kinds of door-
yard or roadside plants are available, whether giant trees or
pimy herbs.

For record, the observations may be entered in a cross-
ruled table having the left-hand column reserved for plant
names, and each of the other columns devoted to one day's
observations, the date being written at the top. Following
the name of each plant, there should be written imder proper
date the first obvious swelling of the bud, the first leaf open
(as determined by the exposure of its upper surface), the
first flower open, the first fruit ripe, etc., and any other Httle
idiosyncrasies of the plant that appear from time to time.
Footnotes may be made to include observations for which
there is not room in the table.

Optional Study 8. A Calendar of Spring Flowers

Observations on the blossoming of the early spring flowers
is less work than pleasing pastime. It is worth while from
every point of view; and this study is offered in the hope
that more of it will be done voluntarily.

If one would keep track of the flowers of his own locaHty,
he should first know where the near-by places are in which
the wild flowers abound, and then he should so lay out his

Date of
blossoms

230 NATUR-VL HISTORY OF TIIH FAR.\r

walks as to cover the greatest variety of situations; for thus
he \\-ill see the largest variety of flowers.

For record, the field obsen^ations may be entered in a
table prepared with the following colimin headings:

Name (ask instructor if you do not know it, presenting,
always, a specimen for identification),
first a])i)earance.
maxinuun.
last appearance.
Relation to leaf -unfolding (before, with, or after the leaves).
Duration of a single flower (from first opening to ^^'ithering).
Movements of { with day and night.

flower-i)arts ( ^^'ith progress of flowering.

Changes of color.
Date of first fruit ripening.
Remarks.

Optional Study 9. Noteworthy Wild Flower Beds of the

Farm
Optional Study 10. Noteworthy Wild Shrubbery of the

Farm
These two studies are intended to encourage personal
obsen^ations on the ornamental things growing wild on the
farm; on their character, their requirements, and their avail-
ability for making the farm more beautiful and more inter-
esting. The data called for may easily be obtained in the
course of walks afield for air and exercise. For record, blank
tables, like those on pages 231 and 232 may be used. The
flowers and shrubs therein named are such as are most
available at Ithaca.

231

9. NOTEWORTHY WILD FLOWER BEDS OF THE FARM

Best specimens I have
seen of

Location

Area covered

Character of
haunts

Date of
flowering

Character
of foliage

I. Hepatica

2. Rue Anemone

3. Adder's Tongue

4. Moss-pink

5. Trillium

6. Columbine

7. Bishop's Cap

8. Cranesbill

9. May Apple

10. Iris

Others of your own
selection
12.

BEST WILD FLOWER-GARDENS OF MIXED SORTS

Location

Components

Seasonal range of
flowers

I. On level woodland

2. On dry hillsides

3. In wet swale, marsh

or bog

23-

lo. N'OTKWORTUV

FLOWKRINC; SIIR

UBBERY OF THE

FARM

Location

Area covered

Conditionst

Date of
flowering

Character
of foliage

I. Azalea

2. Maple-leaved
arrow wood

3. Kl'.rr*

4. l-'lowering Dogwood

5. ( )thcr Dogwood*

6. Vihumum*

7. Sumach*

8. Witch Hazel

f). Spicebush

10. Button wood

1 1 . Willow*

12. Mountain Ash

i.V Juneberr>'

14. Any other

I' :nbinations

I . Border plantings

2. Cover plantings

3- Mixed-specimen
plantings

*Any SDecieS. but SniK-Ifv nrhir^k or

4' nt rnnla*-

PART III

Studies for Summer Term

XXXIII. THE PROGRESS OF THE SEASON

"Now is the high tide of the year. . .
We sit in the warm shade and feel right well
How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell;
We may shut our eyes, hut we cannot help knowing
That skies are clear and grass is growing;
The breeze comes whispering in our ear
That dandelions are blossoming near,
That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing."

— Lowell (A Day in June) .

Stunmer is here !

The fields that were brown when overturned in the spring
are now all green again. The desolation wrought by the
plow was but to prepare them for a better growth. The
cattle stand knee-deep in the grass. The butter is yellow.
There is no bare ground in the garden of the thrifty house-
holder. Splendid flowers are blooming; nestlings are trying
their wings. The earliest of the wild fruits are ripening;
and liAn'ng is easier for every creature.

The spring rush is over and the great work of the heated
season is on — the work of crop production. We speak
figuratively of raising crops — that is nature's work, not ours.
All we can do is to arrange some of the conditions favoring
their gro\Arth. We can remove their competitors and destroy
their enemies and stir the soil about them, but natrue makes
them grow.

Most plants consume their food reserves in getting started
in spring; then they settle down to the steady work of
gathering new sustenance from the soil and from the air.
Under natural conditions, they must act quickly when the

2i2>

2^.\

NATUR.\L HISTORY ( >!• Till- FARM

season gets warm enough, in order to hold a i)lace among
ajrjrr^ssive comix'titors. To be outnin in the race for hght
is fatal. So, they put forth tender shoots with all the leaves
they can carr>', leaves being their working capital. So,
in early sununer, all the world is full of soft green tints.
New growth is evei^-where. In dark-hued evergreens, like
henilock and spruce, the contrast between the pale new
slioots and the mature old ones is very striking. In the
heat of summer the new gro\Ni:h will l\arden and new reserves
of food will be acciunulated.

This is the ordinary routine for the larger perennial plants
tliat are best suited to our temperate climate. But there
are some little plants that avoid the strife of summer by
making haste to finish all their work in the spring. Such
is the narcissus, now vsnthering on our lawns; and like it
nre the adder's-tongue and the sciuiiTcl-coni, and many other
early spring flowers that dwell under the hca\^ shade of the
woods. Doubtless the onion grew originally where it was
subject to late-season shading, and there acquired the habits
which it still retains when grown in the open fields.

Our field crops are mostly annuals, brought from various
climes. Some, like oats, are natives of cold countries, and
are so^^'n early and mature early. Some, like com, are semi-
tropical, and are sown late and grow well only in hot weather.
Our hottest spells are proverbial **com weather". Some,
like wheat, spend a part of the season thickening up their
**stand" by producing offsets from the bases before rising
to full height and flowering. We plant one grain of com for
each stalk wanted in the field, but not so with wheat or
timothy: seedlings of these, early in the season, produce
at the surface of the ground a clump of buds, which later
shfX)t u]) tall flowering stalks simultaneously. The wheat,
after fruiting, dies, but the timothy goes on producing other
offsets at the base, holding its ground after the manner of
perennials, and getting ready for another season.

THE PROGRESS OF THE SEASON 235

In nature, annual plants occupy the spaces left temporarily
unoccupied by perennials. They fill the niches, both spatial
and seasonal. So, when we move them into our open fields,
they enjoy unaccustomed abundance of room and light.
We change conditions and increase their yield, but we do
not greatly change the nature of any of the plants. Out in
the clover-field, we see a few stalks of rye that have spnmg
up where a seed fell and germinated. The swaying stems
rise to thrice the height of the clover. Why this unnecessary
length of stem, and imdue exposure to the rude winds?
We need only look at the wild rye growing among the forest
undergrowth, to see in what conditions this growth-habit
was acquired. There, all that length of stem in needed to
reach effective light.

We plant such spindling things closely for mutual sup-
port, while to potatoes we allow plenty of * 'elbow-room."
W^e till one crop and not another, according to their need
of help in competition with weeds. We adjust our farming
operations to the seasonal behavior of our very varied crops :
for no adjustment the other way about is possible. Accord-
ing to the temperature and time requirements of our crops,
we make a series of plantings in spring and a succession of
harvests in the summer. So, our ways conform to theirs.

One who raises plants, gets pleasure out of his craft in
proportion as he follows their idiosyncrasies, and knows
what they are doing in root and branch or in flower and fruit,
at every turn of the season.

236

NATURAL HISTORY OF Till- FARNf

Study 33. The Progress of the Season
The program of Uiis study includes a trip over the fields
aiid K'^rdens of the fann, imp in hand, noting', inspecting
and rt'conhyg the more striking' seasonal activities of the
growing things. To detennine whether vegetati\-e increase
of field-crop plants is goin^' on, specimens will have to be
dug up and examined root and branch.

The record.

1. On the map of the field, the principal crops may be
recorded directly, and their stage of advancement briefly
indicated.

2. An amiotated list may be made of all the crops ob-
ser\-ed, giving location (as by name or number of the field),
area, stage of advancement (as germination, height, blossom-
ing, etc.), condition (good, poor, weedy, infested wnth plant-
lice, etc.). Include, besides field-crops, fruit and truck-crops
and pastures.

XXXIV. THE CLOVERS

"Noiu, Cousin Clover, tell me in mine ear;
Go' St thou to market with thy pink and green?
Of what avail, this color and this grace?
Wert thou but squat of stem and brindle-brown,
Still careless herds would feed.''

Sidney Lanier {Clover),

"Knee-deep in clover" is a ptirely agricultural figure of
speech. No one who has seen the pigs or the heifers turned
out into a clover-field of a sumnier morning, will need to be
told that it signifies complete and unalloyed satisfaction.
Nor does it mean merely pleasures of the palate, even for
the beasts ; for they gaze on the clover, sniff at it and take
deep breaths, and lie down and roll in it. Doubtless there
was clover in Eden.

There are many kinds of clover, and they are of varying
utility to us. Of all groups of cultivated plants, there is
hardly another that is intimately bound up with so many
agricultiiral interests. Clovers furnish green forage, both
for pasture and for soiling. They furnish hay — hay that
sets a standard of quality for all other hay; hay so rich in
proteins, it needs to be diluted with other forage for ordinary
feeding; and that, alone, is ground and used like meal.

The clovers also supply fertilizers to the soil, especially
nitrogenous fertilizers: directly, when plowed under and
decomposed; and indirectly, through the action of the
nitrogen-gathering bacteria that live in the nodules on their
roots. The practice of rotation of crops depends for its
success largely on the work of the clovers in replenishing
the supply of available nitrogen in the soil. Both by the
deep penetration of their roots, opening up the hard subsoil
to the ingress of air and water, and by the materials they
contribute in their decay, they leave the soil in better condi-

22>7

23^

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

-'iJ-;

Pig. 86. White clover. (This

and other
drawings bearing the same monogram pre-
pared by Miss Olive N. Tuttle for this book.

lion for subsequent crops.
Most other crops deplete
the soil, but the clovers
enrich it, and restore its
ftTtility.

The clovers also furnish
the finest of the honey-
crop — especially white
clover, which fills the land
with the fragrance of its
nectar in June. Among
them are excellent soil-
binders for holding togeth-
er the surface layers of
eroding hill slopes; excel-
lent cover-crops for the orchard in the

dr>^ season; and excellent plants for the

la\sTi and the fence-row.

And besides all these very practical

matters, there is their beauty ! Crimson

clover, red clover, white clover— what

neatness and elegance of design in the

single sprays; what beauty of leaf form;

what freshness of flowers ! And in mass,

also, they give fine landscape effects —

the red outspread over the plain like a

carpet of roses; the white sprinkled

over the green hills like flakes of

fugitive snow.

All the clovers are deep-rooting herbs

that grow in spreading tufts and bear

trifoliate leaves, having stipules at the

base of the leaf -stalk. They have small

flowers in clusters, and short, few-seeded fk.. 87. Red clover.

THE CLOVERS

239

pods. The true clovers
(members of the genus Tri-
folium) produce their flowers
in heads: the others (sweet
clovers of the genus Meli-
lotus and the medics of the
genus Medicago) bear them
in more open spike-like
racemes. Red and crimson
clovers are the most striking
species of the fields, but in
northern latitudes our native
white clover is the hardiest
and the most widespread of
all. It grows in fields and
pastures and copses every-
where, often from self-sown
seed. Its creeping stems,

^'^f^

Fig. 89. Alsike clover.

Fig. 88. White sweet-clover.

Striking root wherever they
touch the ground, fit it for life
in pastures and in lawns. From
its sweet flowers, the whitest
of all honey is gathered by the
bees. Alsike clover is a similar
but more robust, imported
species, with lax stems, not
rooting at the nodes, and with
rose-tinted flowers. Buffalo-
clover is another rather obscure
native species, with piebald,
red and white flowers. Then
there are two other kinds of

240

NATURAL HISTORY OF TTIlv FARM

imported true clovers of very different
appearance: the tall, branchin*^^ rab-
bit's foot clover, Nnth its whitish corollas
hidden among long and silky calyx
lobes, which, combined together in the
soft heads, suggest the name it bears;
and two delicate little j-elknv-flowered
hop-clovers.

The s\\'eet clovers are two species of
tall fragrant roadside weeds, similar in
appearance except that one bears white,
and the other yellow flowers. The white
sweet clover (fig. 88) is able to follow the
road grader and take possession of and
thrive in the
liardest and most
unpromising of
soils.
The medics

differ from the sweet clovers in

having bent or spirally twisted pods,

instead of straight ones. They also

have shorter flower clusters. One of

them, alfalfa, is of vast importance

as a forage crop. It has purple

flowers. The others are unimportant,

yellow-flowered species that we find

in waste places.

Of all the array of clovers, only the

white clover and a few of its nearest

allies in the genus Trijolhim are

native American plants. But all of

them are interesting and worthy of

a little careful study. Fig. 91. Viii.w-hop clover.

Fig. 90. Rabbin's -foot
clover (after Britten and
Brown).

THE CLOVERS 241

Study 34. The Clovers of the Farm
The program of work for this study will consist of finding
the clovers, wild and cultivated, growing on the farm, and
digging them up and examining them, root and branch,
flowers and fruit, and of making field observations on their
habits, conditions of life, enemies and associates.

The record of tliis study may consist of two tables of the
clovers, one relating to the green plants, and the other to
their flowers and fruits, prepared with column headings as
indicated below :

I . The Green Plants.

Name (red clover, sweet clover, alfalfa, etcj.

Duration (annual, biennial, short-lived or long-lived
perennial) .

Height (average height in inches) .

Growth-habit (erect, trailing, creeping, etc.).

Stem (stout or weak, cylindric or furrowed, straight or
zigzag, etc).

form (diagram of the compound leaf as a whole,

including the basal stipules) .
color (light or dark green, markings, etc.).
margin (diagram of edge of leaflet).
.p rform (diagram).

\nodules (relative size, form, abimdance, etc.).
Grows wild where (in what kind of soil and situation) .
Is grown with (what other cultivated plants, sown or
associated) .

Is fed upon by (what animals: what insects).
Farm uses (green forage hay, cover-crop, honey-crop,
green manuring, lawn-cover, fence-row cover, etc.).
Remarks.

Leaves

242

NATURAL HISTORY OF TIIIC FARM

Flower-clusters

2. The Flower and Fruit
Niune (red clover, sweet clover, alfalfa, etc.).

fonn (diaj^nnn a lon^Mtudiiial section of

it).

Xo. of flowers (in an average entire

cluster).
Xo. of clusters (on a i)lant of average
size) .
corolla (color, fonn, etc.).

calyx (lei;gth in relation to corolla, hairiness, etc.).
fragrance

visitors (insects seeking nectar).
Seed-pod fonn (diagram).

Size seeds (length by width in fractions of a millimeter:
to measure, lay ten seeds, touching, on a metric rule
(see p. 12); read, and divide by ten.)
Remarks.

Flowers

XXXV. THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM

"Excellent herbs had our fathers of old,

Excellent herbs to ease their pain,
Alexanders and Marigold,

Eyebright, Orris arid Elcampane,
Basil, Rocket, Valerian, Rue

(Almost singing themselves they run).
Vervain, Dittany, Call-me-to-you,

Cowslip, Melilot, Rose-of-the-Sun.
Anything green that grew out of the mould
Was an excellent herb to our fathers of old/'

— Kipling (Our Fathers of Old).

Our great demands upon the plant world are for food,
clothing, and shelter. Given these essential things, we then
demand other things for pleasure or adornment. To neces-
sary plain food, we add flavorings ; to textiles, we add dyes ;
to walls and roof, we add decorations; and then we enrich
oiir social intercourse with garlands and wreaths and incense.
We use these things because nature has placed them near at
hand, and has made us to appreciate them.

Nature has singularly commingled the bare necessities of
our existence with the pleasant gifts of her bounty and with
the things we may not use. They grow together out of the
same soil, foods and sweets and poisons. Fortunately, our
instincts guide us in a considerable measure in the choice of
foods, for what nature has made most pleasing to our palate
is, in general, most wholesome. There are, however, many
wholesome plant products that are not at first pleasant to the
taste, and there are poisonous fruits that are attractive in
appearance. Nature has. put into her plant products an
endless variety of substances, nutritive, stimulating or
poisonous, from which we may pick and choose. Moreover,
she has so mingled these qualities in her products that their
effect upon us depends upon our use of them. Foods are

243

244 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Stimulating if rightly used, and yet may act as ])oisoiis if u.^cd
in excess. Many poisons arc used medicinally to stimulate
the latent j)o\vcrs of the body: and most stimulants are
poisons if too freely used. Between foods and medicines
and poisons, no hard and fast lines can be drawTi. Straw-
berries and ma}'-a]ii^lcs and other raw fruits act as poisons
in the case of individuals. Many foods act like niedicines
on the system. Blackberries are mildly astringent : i:)runes
are laxative: asparagus is diuretic: lettuce is so]^orific —
these elTects var^'ing with personal idios>-ncras\'. An editor
of one of our leading agricultural journals, in an excess of
enthusiasm, once wrote: "The virtues of the onion [in diet)
render it a whole pharmacopeia in itself". Truh', "what is
one man's meat may be another's poison".

It was one of the earliest tasks of manlcind to ex])lore the
plant world and find out the source of foods and medicines
and poisons. Primitive folk, by tasting and trying, dis-
covered nearly all these plant resources that we know
today. The cultivation of all our important fo()d-])lants
antedates written history. There is hardly an American
vegetable drug whose use was not known to the Indians
before the coming of Columbus.

In that day when every one garnered his living with his
own hands, plant lore was knowledge of first importance.
Experience was handed down by oral tradition. To what
men knew about plants, was added much that they imagined.
Before the days of botany, the best of this lore was pul)lished
in herbals. These were great compilations of what was
known or believed about the names, habits, and uses of
plants. They included practically all known ])lants, and in
the list of their "vertues" nourishing and stimulating and
curative properties are all set down together, side by side.
The herbalists were very optimistic about plant virtues.
Most plants were good for many of the ills of hiunan flesh.

THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM

245

Fig. 92. Yellow sorrel.

Everything was good for
something, tho in some
cases the good was un-
discovered. Thus, Gerard
says concerning "divers
other wild campions"
(Herbal, 2d ed. 1633,
page 474) : "The natures
and vcrtues of these, as
of many others, lie hid as
yet, and so may con-
tinue, if chance, or a

more curious generation than yet is in being do not finde

them out."

There is more than nourishment to be had from foods.

The pleasures of the palate are inseparable from a good

digestion and good

assimilation. There are

wholesome foods that

cloy, and others that

quicken. There are

things, not in themselves

nourishing at all, that,

added in moderation to

our diet, help to keep

our nutritive machinery

working efficiently, and

so contribute to our

welfare.

Only foods proper are

of sustaining value, but

many harmless food ad-
juncts, especially the

•1 ^ n • r Fig. 93. Round-leaved mDllow; the fruit (shown

milder naVOrmgS or at the side) is known as ••Cheese."

246 NATURAL HISTORY OF TUK FARM

vegetable products, add to the zest of our eating and to the
value of our dic>t. ( )f A-egetable flavorings there is no end.
There are acid fla\'ors, like those of the lea\'es of the sorrels,
long since suiii)lantcd in our diet by artificially prepared
vinegars (yet what eliild of the field does not still nibble at
sorrel leaves?). There are jmngcnt flavors in the pej^pers
and in many crucifers — in the lea\'es of the cresses, in the
roots of radish and horse-radish, and in the seeds of pepper-
grass and of mustard. It is flaA^or and not food that cliildren
get froni chewing mallow "cheeses" (fig. 93), or slippery-
elm bark, or linden buds. There are pleasant oleraceous
flavors in kale and cabbage and cauliOower; and then there
are the flavors of the savory herbs, tlie subject of this study.

The beasts also desire these
]:)leasant adjuncts to their diet.
Cats like catnip and valerian.
Dogs like certain of the goose
foots. Cattle lo\'e to crop the
twigs of apple and hawthorn

Fig 94. A pair of leaves of catnip. and CVCn the shootS of the

l)oison-ivy and other plants
that are to us harmful. Wild deer are fond of nettles.
Horses like their hay best when it is fragrant with the natural
aromatic oils of certain of the grasses, well preser\'cd by
proper curing. It is noticeable that in these animals, as in
ourselves, taste and smell are intimately associated. The cat
not only bites the leaves of the catnip to taste them, but he
sniffs of them and rolls hrnaself upon them, so as to carry the
aroma with hirn. Then he licks his fur in complete satis-
faction.

Savory herbs, possessing fine aromatic scents and flavors,
have been sought out and used by all the races of men. They
have figured in the ceremonials of all religions, ser\ing for
perfimie, for incense, or for purification. They have served in

THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM 247

public gatherings in hall, chancel and theater to make
pleasing unobtrusive appeal to the senses. "English litera-
ture is redolent of all the sweetest leaves and flowers of
English gardens ' ' (B arbidge) .

Herbage-scents are not transient and effusive, like the odors
of the flowers. They last through the life of the plant itself,
and are often sweetest in the dried herb. They are faint and
ethereal, like the delicate scent of sweetbrier leaves distilling
into the motionless air of a summer evening after rain. Or
they may not be noticeable at all unless the foliage producing
them be rubbed or bruised.

It was for this reason that our grandmothers planted
lavender and rosemary and balm close beside the garden
paths, where their leaves would be brushed by the clothes of a
person passing, liberating the fragrance. They prized
these for the garden in stimmer, and such sweet things as
lemon-verbena and rose-geraniums for the window-garden in
winter. It is because herbs yield their fragrance most
abundantly when crushed or bruised, that they were used of
old as "strewing herbs." They were scattered in the path of
a bridal or other procession, to raise a pleasing perfume when
crushed by passing feet.

Aromatic herbs are mainly such as secrete essential oils in
leaves or seeds or roots. They belong mainly to two fainilies
of plants: the mints and the umbelworts. Well-known,
often cultivated members of the mint family are sage, thyme,
spearmint, peppermint, sweet majoram, sumimer savory,
balm, basil, catnip, pennyroyal, bergamot and horehound.
The garden umbelworts include anise, coriander, caraway,
parsley, etc. Single representatives of other plant families
are ginger, orris-root, sweet-flag, sweet-fern, musk-mallow,
dill and wintergreen.

Such names as those just mentioned at once suggest many
uses these have served. The flavoring of foods may well have

248

Till-: X AT URAL TIISTORV OF Till- FARM

been the earliest of these. Gerard re])()rts Pliuy as liaviiig
said that "The smell of mint doth stir up the mhide and the
taste to a greedy desire of meat"; and f(>r himself he adds,
"Mint is marvellous wholesome for the stomaeke". (Herbal,
p. 68 1). To the modem cook or confectioner, the herbs
themsches are hardly kno\\Ti, tho
their essences are used to excess.
But (xir great grandmothers knew
theni, grew them, cut them, cured
them and then seasoned \\-ith them.
The plants were gathered about the
time when their first flowers were
opening, dried ra]ndly to presence
their essential oils, and ])ut away
for winter use. Then they were
used with discrimination. It was
experience, not chemical analysis,
that settled u]:)on sage and simimer
savory as proper seasoning for sau-
sage and roasts ; upon parsley and
th\iiie as suitable for stews and

SOU])S.

Our grandmothers made tea from
sage, mint, horehound, balm, catnip,
pennyroyal, etc. It was a com-
mon practice to steep a quarter
of an ounce of the dried lea\-es in a half pint of boiling
water, and tlien strain and sweeten to taste. Such teas
were at once beverages and "simple home remedies."
Penm-royal tea was used to promote perspiration. Hore-
hound was good for colds. Each herb had its virtues, and all
of them had the great merit of being rather harmless when so
prepared and admirastered. If one had a cold, a pleasant
cup of horehound tea (happily supplemented by good hygienic

Fig. 95. Pennyroy

THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM

249

measures) gave him the pleasant feeling that he had "done
something for it."

Our forefathers were making use of the antiseptic proper-
ties of the aromatic oils, when they burned as incense the
herbs containing them to make the air of public halls more
wholesome. Sprigs of lavender were laid in clothes-presses,
both to repel moths and to impart a delicate odor to the

garments that were stored
therein. Pulverized leaves
of many aromatic herbs
were put in scent-bags, and
pillows, and extracts from
them were used for per-
fuming baths and lotions,
and pomades and oint-
ments. All these were
ministrations to the human
sense of smell — the most
subtle of all our senses.

A garden of scented
herbs was a household
necessity in that day,
before the advent of super-
abundant bottled scents,
when discriminating use
of herbs was intimately
bound up with all the
little refinements of life. It is still a mark of household
culture. But only a few of the many fine herbs available are
much planted, and of these, few are indigenous. Every
fertile country has its own fragrant herbs, and it were well if
every householder who plants a scented garden should seek
out the wild fragrant things native to his own locality —
things that the gardener's catalog knows not — and use them

Fig. 96. Watermint.

250 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

also in situations a])i)roi)riatc to them. By the waterside are
marsh-mint {Hlephila ciliata) and watermint {Mentha cana-
densis), as sweet as any mints of the gardens. On the hilltops
are fine wild bcrgamots and basils, sweet-fern (fig. 80), fra-
grant everlasting (fig. 130), odorous goldenrod, and other
sweet things, having scents in pleasing and endless variety.
These are among the wild things tliat every one should
know.

Study 35. Aromatic Herbs of the Farm

The program of wc^rk for this study \\dll consist of a trip
along fence-row, brookside, waste places, and woods, devoted
to finding the wild aromatic herbs. Test all kinds of foliage
by drawing it through the hands and smelling of it. Test
barks and woods also. Certain odorous roots such as sweet
Cicely and sarsa])arilla, should be dug up and crushed and
tested; also the seeds of any umbelworts found ripe. A few
rank-smelling aromatics, like richweed, should be included,
by way of contrast. A look-in upon the aromatics of an herb
garden may conclude the work.

The record of this study may well consist of a table of
aromatic herbs, prepared with column headings as follows:

Name (of plant).

Grows where (in what sort of place, wet or dry, sun or
shade, etc.).

Growiih-habit (erect, trailing, creeping, climbing, twining,
etc.).

Part aromatic (leaves, stem, root, seed, etc.).

Character of aroma.

Suited to what use.

Remarks.

THE AROMATIC HERBS OF THE FARM

251

An additional study on
The Fragrant Trees and Shrubs of the Farm
may be made if desired, following the same plan, and
using for record a table with the same column headings,
adding one for height. More attention should then be paid
to fragrant woods, like those of sassafras, spicebush and cedar,
and to their products of gums, resins, and oils, like those of
cherry, balsam and pine. Food-flavors will, of course, be less
in evidence; flavors for manufactured products, more
common; things for medicinal use, about as with herbs.

XXXVI. THE TREES IN SUMMER

" Uiuler the greenwood tree
Who loirs to lie with me,
A fid tune his merry note
I'tito the secret bird's thro(}t,
Come hither, come hither, come hither."

— Shakespeare (.45 You Like It).

In summer we live nearest the trees. AVe exchange our
solid roofs for their latticed crowns, and sit beneath them in
the open air. They spread green canoj)ies above us, all
fringed with beautifully sculptured leaves. Broad-leaved
trees with the densest crowns, like hard maples, we like best
for shade : these best exclude the sun.

In summer, the characters of boughs and buds, which have
served us best for winter studies of deciduous trees (see
Study 9 on page 76), are somewhat obscured by the foliage;
but the leaves in themselves offer ample recognition marks
instead. The species of tree is usually to be told from a
single leaf; for each kind, though variable in lesser details,
has a form and a structure and a texture of its own. The
differences are sometimes extraordinary as in the leaf types
shown in figure 97 : but even when the leaves of two species
look very much alike, there are apt to be minor differ-
ences of outline, of venation, of margin, of hairiness, of
length of leaf-stalk, etc., by which the two may be distin-
guished.

In svunmer, the trees are busy. Each one is increasing,
as much as it can, its hold upon the earth and its spread into
the sunlight. To every living twig it is adding new growth.
Until full stature is attained, it adds long leafy shoots at
each sunlit tip; and aftcnvards, and underneath in the
shadow, it adds enough new growth to hold a few green leaves

252

THE TREES IN SUiMMER

253

every year so long as the tip remains alive. Wherever there
is an opening in the crown, adjacent twigs tend to crowd
into it and fill it up.

In summer, the trees are flowering and fruiting. A few
of them, like the tulip tree and the magnolias, have very large
flowers. A few, like the maples and the linden or basswood,
have smaller nectar-bearing flowers that are thronged by
bees and other insects. Basswood, indeed, stands next to

Fig. 97. Leaf outlines; w, sycamore; n, red oak.

white clover in the quality of the honey it yields. Most of
the larger trees have small and inconspicuous flowers, that
shed their pollen lavishly and depend on the wind for its
distribution. Some trees, like the soft maples, flower early,
and ripen and shed their fruit before the summer is well imder
way; and others, like the black oaks, hasten slowly, taking
two years for mattiring a crop of acorns. So, at any time,
we shall find some trees bare of flower and fruit, and others
with one or both in various stages of development. There
is nothing more interesting about the trees than this wonder-
ful variety of habit. How interesting they are, you may

254 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

never know by merely readin^^ about them: it can only
be learned at first hand.

Study 36. Observations on the trees in summer

The program of work for this study will consist of an
examination of the crowns of a dozen or more of the com-
moner deciduous native trees, principally as to their habits
of growth and the characters of their leaves, flowers and
fruit. A few flowering and fruiting boughs of each tall-
gro^^'ing species should be previously pruned and brought
down to earth for common use.

The record of this study may consist of one or the other
or both of the following tables, according to the needs of the
student. Table i, on recognition characters of the green
tree, is intended for those who have not already a good
acquaintance with these characters, such as is prerequisite
to the work on reproductive habits that is outlined in the
second table. The tables (to contain only original observa-
tions) may be prepared with column headings as indicated
below.

1. Table of Growth-Characters of Trees

Name.

Height (estimated height of a mature tree, in feet or

meters) .
Growth-habit (see page 72 and figure 40).
type (simple or conijjound).
arrangement (opposite, alternate, whorled, etc.).
fonn (diagram a single leaflet, if compound).
Leaves { size (length by width in inches).

surface (rough or smooth, dull or shin\', hairy or

spiny, etc.).
mari^nn (diagram a bit of it).

Shoots

THE TREES IN SUMMER ^55

maximum length (length of one season's growth

in young trees, not crowded),
minimum length (length of one season's growth

of over-shadowed twigs).
number of jto date (on average new shoots),
leaves | last season (as indicated by old leaf-

developed i scars).

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

2. Table of Characters of Flowers and Fruits

Name.
Date.

Flowers

Fruiting height (flower and fruit
borne at what distance from
the ground, measured along bole
as to size ^ and branch).

of smgle flower (diameter in milli-
meters),
of cluster (length and breadth in
millimeters),
as to sex (perfect-i^*.^., stamens and pistils in the
same flower; monoecious— ^'.^., stamens and
pistils in different flowers on same plant; or
dioecious— ij'.^., stamens and pistils borne on
different plants).

of clusters(diagram.; t\\4ce, if of two

as to form ^ , '^^^'^•

of flower (diagram in longitudinal

color.

section, showing parts).

256

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

arninireineut (tliui^rain in position on stem; in

cluster, if it grows in one).
Fruit ^ staj^e (i)r()i)ortion of gro\\1:h attained to date),
structure (dia<;nun single fruit in section, or in

whatever way will best convey an idea of it).

This table should include only such facts as may be ob-
served on the date when the study is made. Blank spaces
in it will then be si^mificant as indicating different seasonal
habits on the part of different trees.

XXXVII. WEEDS OF THE FIELD

"/w tke garden more grows
Than the gardener soius."

— Spanish Proverb.

Weeds were not invented by the Devil to plague the fanner.
Oh, no. Weeds were here before there were farmers. They
were here holding their own on the bits of fallow ground nature
allowed them — on the new-made bar left by a receding flood ;
on the denuded slope laid bare by a landslide ; in the ashes of
a devastating fire : wherever there was a bit of soil left open,
weeds were ready to enter in and possess it.

Weeds were fewer before the days of agriculture than now;
for nature kept most of the land occupied with more per-
manent crops. It is due to the farmer himself that weeds
have become so abundant. The fanner turns the soil and
makes it ready for new occupants. He could not prepare it
more to the liking of the weeds if he were doing it expressly
for their benefit. They like the tilth of soil his plow and
harrow yield; they like his tillage and his fertilizers; they
like his dust-mulch; and, if they do not chance to be up-
rooted, they show their appreciation by lusty growth. AVhat
magnificent specimens of weeds they do become in a rich
field. The wild ones of the same species that we find in the
woods are puny things in comparison.

Weeds have a wonderful way — it takes a figure from the
language. of business to express it — a wonderful way of
"getting in on the ground floor". The field is no sooner pre-
pared than they are found occupying it. They nearly all
spring from seeds, and their seeds have great facility at
getting about. Seeds of dandehon, thistle, hawkweed, etc.,
travel by air and settle in every field. Seeds of cocklebur,
burdock, pitchforks (fig. 39), etc., travel by pack animals,

257

r5S NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

and t;() wh(.Te\-c'r the anuuals carry them. These arc less
ubiquitous. Other seeds of weeds are distributed with the
nuid tliat adheres to the feet of men and animals, and to the
wheels of veliicles. This is the chief mode of distributi(jri for
oiu* coi'.unonest weeds. The seeds become embedded in a
thin la\'er of mud, and when dro])]K^d, find themselves well
situated for growing. This method properly plants them.
They travel, also, with the fanner's cargoes ; with his ha\' and
straw and feed and with his im]:)erfeetly winnowed grain; and
they are distrilnited along with these commcxUties to remote
regions. So, in any place, we find the new and unusual
weeds, like cur western oxybaphus, and the Russian tliistle,
first appccLving along the railroad track, where dropped from
passing cars.

Weeds are such opportunists ; the>' make the most of small
favors. If they can not get more, they will take less. One
well-fed cocklebtu- plant in a rich cornfield may attain an
almost treelike stature, and another, whose lot is cast on a
barren sand-bar, may not attain a finger-height. Bvit the
latter does not give up because soil is barren and water scarce.
It may develop only a few lea\'es and bear only one bur, but it
ripens good seed in that bur, and is ready for the next season's
opportunity. Dandelions, in rich meadows, grow often knee-
hi^h to a man; but on the lawn, after repeated clipping,
they will bloom so close to the ground that the mower ]3asses
harmlessly over their heads. Morning-glories, finding no
trellis at hand, mil cheerfully accc])t a conistalk in its stead, or
in the absence of all support, will s])read over the bare ground.

Nature sows many kinds of seeds in e\ery field. Some of
her sowings are welcome, like that of blue-grass in the fields
that we are turning into pasture. Most of them come to
nought because the seedlings cannot withstand tillage. They
fall before the first onslaught of the cailti valor. Fortunately for
the faniK-r, this is the fate of nearly all plants that spring from

WEEDS OF THE FIELD

259

seeds that travel by air. There are others, however, that
have staying quaHties, and they are the troublesome
weeds.

Obviously, there is no hard and fast line to be drawn
between weeds and other plants. Buckwheat, when sown
as a field crop one season, may spring up as a weed in the
midst of the com crop next season. Some very bad weeds,
like mustard and wormseed, are raised as crops for their seed.
Some, like dandelion, are eaten as
salads. Many, indeed, of the weeds
of the field are eaten by live stock,
and, like pig-weed and purslane, at
once disappear when fields are turned
into pastures. Some weeds, like
mallow, mullein, and yarrow, have
beautiful foliage, and others, like
morning-glory, daisy and thistle,
have splendid flowers.

Weeds, like other plants, have their
preferences as to situations. Pitch-
forks and the larger docks like abund-
ant moisture, and cluster in low
ground. Abutilon and jimson-weed
do well only in rich soil, while rag-
weed and foxtail flourish on poor soil.
Pigweed and lamb's-quarters and
crab-grass love the garden and the edge of the manure heap.
In dooryards and along paths where much trampling keeps
down the tall w^eeds, low-growing things, like dandelion and
plantain, or prostrate tough-stemmed things, like mallow
(fig. 93) and doorweed, thrive. Obviously, prostrate
plants, that cast so thin a shadow as do door^veed and spurge
(fig. 100), are not a match for taller weeds and can flourish
only on bare ground.

Fig. 98. Beautiful weed:
yarrow; h, sheep sorrel

260

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Successful weeds must be al:)lc to thrive on the treatment
accorded to the crop \\'ith which they grow. In our study of
pasture plants (Study 6, p. 56), we found that the weeds of

pasture, like the forage
plants there, are chiefly
j^erennials that are able
to withstand browsing
and tram]3ling. So, in
the fields, they must be
al)le to mature a crop
witliin the lifetime of the
cultivated species with
which they are associated.
Since good plowing puts
an end to both alike, a
new start must be made
from seed. Between \)\ow-
ing and plowing, there-
fore, a new crop of seed
must be matured. Hence,
the im])ortant weeds of
the coniiield are annuals.
Perennials are of little
consequence in tilled fields.
The weeds that in season
and habits and require-
ments are most like the
crops \\'ith which they
grow, arc the ones that
They are natural com-

FlG. 99. Sun prints of camomile and carrot.

give the fanner the most trouble,
petitors.

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

WEEDS OP THE FIELD

261

depth most favorable for quick and early gro\\i:h. Certain
plants, like buckwheat, that grow up quickly, smothering the
weeds, are often used to clean a weedy field. Potatoes, on
the contrary, being slow to appear above ground, are certain
to be beaten in the occupation of the soil by many weeds.
So they are often tilled just before they appear above the
ground. The weed seedlings are easily killed when little.
Tillage breaks their mooring in the soil. The weeds are thus

#^ ^

Fig. 100. Sun prints of weeds, showing the extent to which they shade
the ground, /.paint-brush; 2, moth-mullein; 3, evening primrose;
4, creeping spurge; j, door-weed or goose-grass.

given a second setback, while the stout potato shoots come
along uninjured. The farmer ought to be something of a
naturalist, for his success in handling plants must needs be
based on observations of their habits, their powers, and their
requirements.

The farmer might save himself much labor of exterminating
weeds in his fields, if he was more careful not to encourage
their growth outside the fields. He provides too many
reserves for them in roadside and barnyard and fence-row.
Enormous crops of weed seeds are matured in such places.
It is not enough to keep the fields clean. The fence-row
may be a source of reinfestation. A clean field may

262

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

be infested with seeds in
manure from a weedy
bani\'ard; or ^^'ith seeds
earried in by the stock
turned on to feed; or with
seeds gathered from a
weedy roadside and carried
in on wagon wheels.

The farmer, al)()\'e all

])ersons, should know that

V » ^ iil^' nature will be raising

^^^L i \LStOS^ something on e\-ery bit of

'' ^^ ^ .>llfJ*Bfc: ground ; and that if he

destroy her more pennan-
cnt cro]js, that something
will be weeds. Weeds fol-
low the ax and the sc\'the
and the plow as stunmer
follows spring. The scythe,
especially, is used with too little judgment. The altogether
harmless and altogether beautiful goldenrods and asters
fringing many a roadside are mown to extennination to
make a place for ragAvecds and mulleins to grow. The
native shrubbery under the
trees is cut away to make a
place for burdocks. Such
sort of self-inflicted vandalism
destroys the beauty of the
farm and increases its drud-
gery. If the farmer is so
ignorant that every green

thing, that is not a CrOJ)- Fio. 102. Better than weeds in the fence-
, . row — the maple-leaved viburnum.

plant, IS to hun a weed and

to be treated according!}-, then in increased labor and

in the sweat of his brow he must ]jay the cost of his stupidity.

Pig. 101. Le-ives of rag-weed at all ages;
a seed-leaves; b, c, d, e, successively older
leaves; m.n.o,p,g.r,s, leaves successively
formed on a fruiting spray; 2, a fruiting tip.

WEEDS OF THE FARM 263

Study 37. Weeds of the Field
The program of work for this study will consist of a trip
about the fields containing both tilled and untilled crops,
examining all the common weeds occurring in each, and com-
paring them and writing their characters in a table prepared
with the following headings:

1 . Name (ask the instructor if you do not know it) .

2. Height (or length of stem, if horizontal, in inches).

3. Growth-habit (erect, spreading, trailing, creeping,
climbing, twining, etc.).

4. Root (form, depth and strength of attachment to soil).

5. Leaf (diagram, and state size, length and width in mm. ;
of a leaflet, if compound).

6. Flower or flower-cluster (diagram).
Size.

Fonii (diagram) .
Mode of dispersal.

8. Preferred situation.

Name (of crop in which weed is found) .

Stage (time elapsed since seeding) .

Spacing (average interval between plants each
way as expressed in inches) .
The record of this study will consist of :

1. The above table complete for at least a dozen weeds.

2. Lists of all weeds found in com field, wheat field, etc.,
arranged in what appears to be the order of their abundance
and harmfulness there. Note that not numerical abun-
dance, but bulk and aggressiveness are here intended.

3. Comparative diagrams for half a dozen weeds, illus-
trating peculiarities of growth-habit, or mode of increase, or
mode of seed distribution, that make them factors in the
competition of the fields.

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

7. Seeds.

Crop.

XXXVIII. SIWLMKR WILD FLOWERS

"He is happiest 'who hath power
To ^either 'wisdom from a flower,
And 'u'dke his heart in every hour
To pleasant gratitude."

— Wordsworth.

The splendor of summer would not be complete without its
splendid flowers. They jnmctuate the slopes. They adorn
the roadsides. The}- mellow the air with fragrance. They
fill the fields with the huinming of bees, and with the flashing
win<^'S of brilliant butterflies.

The summer flowers are not like those of sprin<^^ They
grow more openly, and fling out their colors like banners
by the roadsides. Spring fl(^wers
flash up on fragile evanescent
\c I ^ :^^K '^'- stems, solitary or in little clusters

f/-=2'--^-^^ a "*" ' oi unstudied grace ; but the summer

flowers take their time, developing
first strong stems and abimdant
leafage, and then producing great
compovmd clusters in fine mechani-
cal adjustment. Saint John's worts
and campions and sunflowers and
daisies — how lustily they crowd to
fill the wa>'side with their banked-
up foliage masses, and then how gloriously they bloom!

Summer flowers are, moslh', rather small, and produce
their brilliant effects by the massing of great numbers together.
A few large ones, like wild roses, are solitary. Others of
moderate size like gerardias and otlier figvvorts are hung
out in o])en panicles; those of the cc^mmon mullein are in
long stiff" erect spikes. Many of the mint flowers are in
shorter and denser s])ikes, but most of the lesser flowers are

Fic;. KKi. Turtk-heads (Che-
lone glabra:) e, the flower from
the side; h, the same with a
bumble-bee entering.

2(.4

SUMMER WILD FLOWERS

26=

Fig. 104. Meadow-sweet with its
feast outspread.

arranged in flat-topped clusters,
either heads or umbels.

The clustering of the flowers
is directly related to visitation
by insects, the distributors of
their pollen. Close grouping
greatly economizes labor on the
part of their visitors. A bee
must pass from one pea flower
to others by separate flights, but a score of flowers massed
together into a clover head may be visited without interven-
ing flight, and with only a slight
turning of the body about while
standing on the top of the cluster.
While insects are most abundant in
the summer season, flowers most
abound then, also; and there is pig. 105
competition for the services of the
bees.

Their patronage is desired. So the flowers in their natural
evolution have perfected ways of drawing visitors, that
singularly parallel the methods of the comer grocery in
^ . drawing trade. First, they get in a stock of
desirable goods — nectar and pollen. Then they
advertise that they have got it and are ready
for business. They advertise with bright colors
and attractive odors. Their signs are showy
corollas that often bear special "guide marks"
about the entrance. Then they array their
wares to suit their visitors' convenience. They
set their open corollas all out in line on a nar-
row spike as at a common counter; or, they
spread them out flatwise in a head or corj^nb

This last

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

Pol-

FiG. 106.

len -gathering

honly'S.'^^ or umbel, as on a common table.

266

NATLKAL HISTORY ( »F TllH FARM

arrangement is doubtless n\ost convenient for the visitors;
it is the one niDst coniinonly adopted, and most successful.
And as there are groceries that cater to a select and limited
patronage, so there are flowers that put their nectar out of
reach of common visitors, and reserve it for those that
are epecially endowed— not with long pocketbooks, but
with Icng proboscides. They secrete their nectar at the
bottom of deep and narrow corolla tubes or spurs, or behind
barriers of sharp oiTensive spines, or glandular hairs. The

nectar of certain
trumpet-like con-
\( )l\-ulus flowers can
be sucked only by
long-tongued hum-
ming-bird moths.
That in the tightly-
closed bilabiate
corollas on themon-
kc}--flowers can be
had only by bum-
blebees, having
strength to o])en
the mouth of the
corolla and enter.
So, when we watch the flower-clumps in the fields, we shall
see but few visitors about such specialized flowers as turtle-
heads (fig. 103), and butter-and-eggs, while the outspread
tables of open corollas of such as meadowsweet (fig. 104)
and wild carrot are thronged with \'isitors of many sorts.
The colors of summer flowers are in themselves very
beautiful and satisfying. Their fonns are wonderfully varied
and interesting. But colors and forms are alike increasingly
instructive when we learn what roll they fill in the drama of
hfe. And we shall enjoy our coutnct with natuie better

Pig. 107. Beard-tongue {Pentstemon pubescens) a, the
flower; b. section of the same, showing the trigger-
like bearded upper stamen, which is declined so that
it overlies the stalks of the pollen-bearing stamens.
The insect, entering where indicated by the arrow,
in clutching this stamen shakes pollen from the others
down upon its own back. (From the author's
"General Biology.")

SUMMER WILD PLOWERS 267

when we have grasped the fact that in the world of flowers
or elsewhere, "there is no beauty apart from use."

Study 38. Summer Wild Flowers
The program of work for this study should include a trip
to the field for collecting wild flowers and stud}4ng their
characters and habits. All the showier sorts of wild flowers
of one small locality should be observ^ed, gathered and
compared. They will be found in imcultivated places by
the roadside and streamside and in the woods. They v;ill
show great differences in color and form and attractions to
insect visitors. Many of their characters will appear curious
and inexplicable if studied only indoors and apart from their
environment; but in the field, when the day is bright and
calm and insects are abundant, one may see exactly what
the most puzzling of floral structures are good for, by seeing
their mechanism in action.

The record of this study may consist of an annotated list
of the flowers studied, illustrated with a few simple diagrams
of flowers or clusters, etc., where possible.

The notes should cover: kind of plant, manner and place
of growth, sort of flower-clusters, of flower, its color, odor, and
general attractiveness to visitors and means of attracting
them.

XXXIX. SDMI" IXSECTvS AT Wr)RK OX FAKM

CROPS

"Thai ivhirh the palmencorm hath left hath the locust eaten; and that
which the locust hath left hath the cankenvorm eaten; and that which the
cankeru'orm hath left hath the caterpillar eaten.

Awake, ye drunkard, and weep; and howl, all ye drinkers of wine,
because of the vew wine; for it is cut off from your mouth.

For a nation is come up upon my land, strong, and without number,
whose teeth are the teeth of a lion, and he hath the cheek-teeth of a ^reat lion.

lie hath laid my vine waste, and barked in y fig-tree; he hath made it
clean bare, and cast it away; the branches tJiereof are made white.''

—The Book of Joel, i :4-7.

Before there were famis, the plants we cuki\'ate all had
their insect enemies. They developed together in the wild-
wood. The priniiti\'e farmer sotight out the valuable crop-
plants and brought them into his fields. The insects came
along with them, uninvited.

The making of fields disturbed the nice balance of nature.
The massing together of plants that grew sparingly in the
wildwood, made it possible for their insect enemies to find
unusual food sup])lics, and to develop in extraordinary
numbers. Potato beetles, hatched in the garden, find food
plants waiting for them in ainmdancc; they do not ha\'e to
search the motmtain-sidc for a few straggling wild i)lants on
which to lay their eggs. Thus the fanner has made easier
conditions for them, and is himself responsible for their
unusual increase. It is because he has aided their increase
that he now must take measures for their destruction.

Each kind of plant has its o\^^l insect enemies. Different
ones work in its leaf, its stem, its root or its fruit. No part is
exempt from attack. Some insects feed openly ujion tlie
plant; others are concealed, as stem-borers and leaf -miners.
Some, like the aphids, feed in great companies; others are
solitary. A few scale insects attach themselves to the bark

SOME INSECTS AT WORK ON FARM CROPS

269

Pig. 108. A leaf-devouring caterpillar
(Acro7iycta) on button-bush.

and remain in one position.
Most insects appear during
only a portion of the season,
and often several different
insects follow one another
in a regular succession of
depredations.

Of insects that feed openly
upon the crops of our fields,
there are two classes that
affect the plant tissues diff-
erently, and that we have
to deal with differently.
These are biting insects and
sucking insects. The former
are armed with jaws, and consume the tissues of the plant:
the latter are armed with sharp puncturing beaks, and they
merely perforate the tissues and suck up the fluid contents.
Biting insects are beetles and grasshoppers and cutworms
and many large caterpillars that consume parts of plants
bodily, and many lesser leaf-skele-
tonizers of various groups that eat
the soft superficial tissues, leaving
the more solid framework of the
leaves intact. All these are con-
trolled by spraying or dusting suit-
able poisons (arsenate of lead, Paris
green, etc.) upon the surface of the
plant, to be eaten along with the
plant tissues. The pimcturing
insects are bugs of various sorts and
aphids and scale insects. These
penetrate the epidermis with their fio. 109. A sucking insect: the
beaks and suck out the plant juices }liTJ^s):"^ ^"^ iOncopeUus

270

NATURAL HISTORY oi- Till: FAR.\r

from -^itliin. Those thus escape ])oisons (le])osiled upon the
surface of the plant, and are killed by spraying only when

some contact in-
secticide (like kero-
sene emulsion, or
various ])rc]xira-
tions of nicotine,
etc.) is thro^vnupon
their bodies.

Both types of
feeders we often find
side by side. We go

Fk;. no. A colony of aphids on a leaf of Ceanolhiis' • -,^.„ „ ,.„uu^„p f,plJ
h a svrphus-flv larva, feeding- i, a wmged aphid; intOacaDDagC-neiQ,

J^----\%-^^^^^ where Httle white

butterflies flutter
above the rows, and we find their green lar\^ae, "cabbage-
worms," stretched at length upon the surfaces of the leaves
placidly eating out scallops in the margins
bage leaves we find whole colonics of ^
minute gray-green aphids, "cabbage-
lice", sucking the sap out of the
leaves and making them buckle and
curl.

Most herbivorous insects are very
limited in the range of their diet.
They will feed upon the plants of but
a few species — usually closely related s])ecies. The coniinon
potato-beetle eats other things besides ]X)tato, but only a
few other species of the same genus — other solanums. This
is, for the husbandman, a very fortu-
nate limitation.

The worst of our field and garden
pests are species of insects fr<:)m
''^IcJJ.^gflT'UrMaltt)! Other lands. They have been brought

On loose cab-

^•m

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

SOME INSECTS AT WORK ON FARM CROPS

271

Fig. 113. An aphid
skin with a hole
in its back ,
whence has

to our shores along with imports of plant materials of various

sorts. They have become established in our fields; but
fortunately they attack only a few of our
plants that are closely related to their own
native food-plants. Pests like the brown-tail
moth, having" an unusually wide range of diet
(including in this example the leaves of most
of our deciduous trees), are luiusually difficult
to control.

Under natural conditions, there is an occa-
emerged a para- g^^j^^j exccssive iucrcase of foragiug insects.
Hordes of them suddenly appear, and

destroy the foliage of one or two species of plants. For

tliis evil, nature has her own methods of control. She

uses carnivores and parasites to keep each species in check.

In the midst of the

aphid colony on a

cabbage leaf, or on

the curled tip of

an aphid-infested

apple spray, one

may often see both

predatory and

parasitic foes of

the aphids work-
ing side b}' side to

keep down the

colony. Ladybird

beetles and their

larvae (fig. m)

consume the

apnidS bodily. p^^^ J14 ^ parasitized moth larva on a blue-grass top:

T flrr>'wi'no- -fl^' la-r some of its parasites have spun their cocoons beside it.

j^ciK.'^w iii^ ii\ iclT- others, on the grass-blade above, b, shows an easy

VflP (-firr TT-)^ d-n/l method of hatching out the adult parasites from the

vdc Viis- J- J--; etna cocoons. (From the author's "General Biology").

272 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

syr]:)hus-fly larvae iiu])alc tlicin and suck their Ijlood. This
destruction is WToug:ht openly. But greater destruction is
often wrought by minute parasites that feed unobser\^ed
on the inteniiil tissues of the aj^liids. Their work is evident
mainly in the dead and empty aphid skins, each wath a
round hole in its back from wliich a little winged parasite
has emerged when fully growTi.

Study 39. Insects at Work on Farm Crops

Tliis study may be made at any tijne exce])ting when the
vegetation is wet. The equipment needed will be lenses,
insect nets, and cyanide bottles or vials of alcohol to hold the
specimens of insects foimd, pending their identification.

The program of work will consist of a trip into the field
for collecting and observing the insects that are at work
upon the crops. Many pests may be located by the dis-
colorations and defonnations of plant tissues they produce:
curling of the tops, ragged outline of leaves, yellowing, etc.
A few, like the potato-beetle larvae, are so conspicuous in
color and position as not to be easily missed. Some, notably
aphids, chinch-bugs, etc., are in dense colonies; but most are
solitary and protectively colored, and difBcult to see. The
grass and herbage is full of plant-bugs and cateriDillars, that
one would not notice ordinarily, but that are readily found
by "sweeping" the leaves with a net. Then having found
out what to look for and where to look, specimens may be
observed at work upon the plant. Species working where
less easily discovered, as in the stems or fruits, or under-
ground on the roots, may be pointed out by the instructor.
The treating of biting insects with food-poisons, and of the suck-
ing insects with contact-insecticides, may be demonstrated

The work may cover either the commoner insects of a
number of crops, or a more careful collation and comparison
of all the pests present on some one crop.

vSOME INSECTS AT WORK OX FARM CROPS 2^2,

The record, in either case, may be an annotated and
illustrated list of the insects found feeding.

The notes should cover name and kind and size and stage
of msect; its habits, the nature and extent of the injury it
causes, etc. Simple diagrams may be made to illustrate its
location on the plant and the character of its injury.

XL. IXSI'X^TS MOLESTING FARM ANIMALS

*'Thoii'rt iLt'lconte to the town; but why come here
To bleed n brother poet, gaunt like thee^
Alas! the little blood I have is dear.

And thin will be the banquet drawn front nir.'*

— Br>ant {To a .\fosquito).

In the season of black-flics, no one goes into the North
Woods excc]:)t on business ; though it is late spring and the
flowers are blooming everywhere and all the world is fresh
and in\'iting, the flics are in the woods by day, and the
mosquitos and punkics are there by night, and there is no
peace of life for man or beast. The lumber-jacks, who must
labor there to earn a living, smear themselves ^s-ith tar-oil
and other fly-rcpcllants. The wild deer lca\'e the streams
and adjacent woods and go far out among the rushes in
the open marsh, and stand half immersed in the water.
The hogs in their pens root up the bottom of the pools and
trample and roll it into a soft paste, and coat theniselves

thickly with mud. This
is fly-i)roof. The l)ison,
als(\ in days gone by,
wallowed in the mud
about spring-holes,
attaining by like inad-
mirable procedure the
same desirable end —
immunity.

Fly-time, fortunately,

is fleeting. Early spring

and late summer and

autumn are more or less

fta.nf. ^,r.<,^uIto. fi'^-'^ from blood-sucking

274

INSECTS MOLESTING FARM ANIMALS

275

flies. The black-flies are the daylight pests of early summer,
and ere they are gone, the horse-flies and deer-flies are at
hand to remain through midsummer; also the bot-flies;
which, though they do not bother us, are aggravating to live
stock beyond all proportion to their number and size.

All these transient pests are two-winged flies (members
of the order Diptera), belonging to a very few families. In
all of them, the larvae live in situations ver}^ different from

those of the adults. The larvae
of the blood-sucking flies — black-
flies and mosquitos and horse-flies
— ^are mostly aquatic. The young
of the bot-flies are parasitic in the
bodies of animals. In all of them,
it is the females that pester the
live stock, the blood-sucking flies
by biting, and the bot-flies by the
operations attendant upon laying
their eggs.

The mosquitos represent the
best-known of these families
(Culicidae). These do most to
make the night interesting. They
have a soft little hum that
probably would be counted among
the sweet sounds of nature, were
it not accompanied by so strong
an appetite for blood . They come
earliest in the spring and stay latest
in the fall. They breed in stand-
ing water — especially in shallow
and temporary pools. Rain-
Fio.116. Larva of the mosquito watct barrcls, and even tin
hr&cT.tSi^).^'''^^'' cans cast upon a rubbish-heap

276

NATURAL HISTORY oF THH FARM

-^'N

11:

The buffalo-gnat {Sitnulium

fecuarum, after Garmanj.

and filled ^vith water In'
the rains, often furnish
the chief su])])lies of nws-
(juitos to a whole nei^^hbor-
hood. Few are reared in
o])en water inhabited by
fishes; U)r the fishes cat
them. The smaller the pool,
the more likely it is to
contain mosquito lar\'ae.
The larA'ae take air at the
surface of the water, but
swim down below to find
forage or to escape danger.
Many species are adapted
to the dr\ing up of their
native pools, and live on (usually in the egg stage) in
absence of water, and come on again and fly and sing and
bite at their proper seasons. Some are short -li\-ed, and run
through quite a number of generations in a single summer;
these de\elop in vast numbers when a rainy season main-
tains an abtmdance of little pools.

Black-flies (Family Simuliidae) develop in nnming water,
and are most troublesome about woodland streams. The
habits of the larvae, w^iich live
upon stones, ha\e been discussed
on ])ages 36 and 37. When there
arc no stones in the streams, lar\'ae
may be foimd hanging to sticks
and to grass blades that trail in
the edge of the current. The eggs
are laid on logs and stones at the
water's edge. The adults (fig. 1 1 7 )
love the sunshine, and their biting *

.11 1 u J Fi<;- 11^- A horse-fly Cfrom the

IS troublesome only by day. u. S. Bureau of Entomology; .

INSECTS MOLESTING FARM ANIMALS 277

Horse-flies (Family Tabanidae) develop in moist soil or
mud, usually in the beds of reedy brooks and ponds. One
finds the lar^^ae (fig. 77) among the roots of aquatic weeds
and grasses by lifting these from the water. The annual
crop of flies matures in midsummer. The males sip nectar
and plant juices, and are short-lived; the females bite
fiercely and suck the blood of all the larger hoofed mammals.
They are troublesome only by day. When fully mature
they lay their eggs on the vertical stems and leaves of aquatic
plants, just above the surface of the water. Many handsome
flies (see fig. 118) are found in this group.

The bot-flies (Family Oestridae) are parasitic

as larvae. Three are notable and dangerous:

one in the alimentary tract of the horse,

causing various derangements; one in the

frontal sinus of the sheep, causing vertigo to

^ fly^of th?hOTse' the animal and often killing it ; one under the

n^by^M^SS' ^kin on the backs of cattle, causing great lumps

cTw ?S'cT^ that may be readily felt by running one's hands

ftudT^Ir In- ^"^'^^ ^^ animal's back. These larvae (known

*^^^^^* as "ox-warbles") are the easiest of the bots to

observe. Over each of them is a hole in the skin, out of which

the larva will emerge when grown. When approaching the

time of emergence (best in the spring) it may be brought to

light prematurely. By placing one's thtmibs at either side

of the lump and pressing hard, the warble may be made to

pop out through the hole into the daylight.

The horse bot-fly is most easily observed of the adult
insects. It often foUoAvs teams along the highways or about
the fields, and its presence may be suspected from the
frenzied action of the horses, flinging their heads u])ward.
The bot-fly docs not bite ; it merely seeks to attach its eggs
to the hairs about the front legs and shoulders of the horse,
within reach of his mouth. But the horse instinctively

278 NATURAL HISTORY OF TTIK FARM

shuns it, strikes at it, and seeks to drive it away. One may
often see the eggs attaehed singly to the hairs — little oblong
whitish s])ecks, glued fast, to remain during ineubation. If
licked off and swallowed in ten to fifteen days after they are
laid, they may develop into parasitic larvae in the horse's
stomach. They then remain attached to the walls of the
stomach or intestine during their larval life. The s^^'iftly-
flying, loudly-buzzing, terror-inspiring bot-fly darts about
the horse's forelegs like a golden bee.

These are the worst of the fly pests : but there are many
others; horse-flies and stable-flies and house-flies and minute
punkics, some of which bite, and some of which lap up
exudations from the skin, and some of which merely perch
and tickle, causing but slight annoyance to the beasts.

Cattle and horses are specially equipped for dealing with
such pests. They ha\'e an abmidant development of small
subcutaneous muscles for shaking them off from the skin,
and thus temporarily disposing of them with a minimum
expenditure of energ}^; and their tails are equi])])cd with
heavy brushes of long coarse hair, indestructible fly-brushes,
which they s'^ing with considerable force and precision.
One often learns this wliile engaged in milking the family
cow. One of the most inane "improvements" that ever
became fasliionable is the docking of the tails of horses. It
is a mild fonn of cruelty to animals; for it deprives them of
their natural means of defense against the flies. In any
pasture on a summer day, one may see the horses standing
in the shade in pairs, side by side, head to tail, each one's
tail switching the front of the other, each one's front being
s\ritchcd by the tail of the other; it is a mutual -bene fit
association, the eflicicncy of which lies in the possession of
natural full-length fly-brushes.

Small as these pests are, they are capcil)le of causing very
great annoyance. Cows give less milk in fly-time, and horses

INSECTS MOLESTING FARM ANIMALS 279

grow thin, so much of their energy is spent in fighting flies.
The loss of blood, also, is very considerable.

There is no finer illustration of the nature of animal
instincts than is furnished by the behavior of horses and cattle
toward these pests. By stamping of hoofs and twitching
of skin and switching of tail, they drive off what they can
of the bloodsucking flies, and the remainder they patiently
endure; but they flee before a few bot-flies, leaving good
pastures to biuy themselves in the brush of the thickets.
Yet the bot-flies do not bite ; they only seek to gently deposit
a few eggs on the tips of the hairs. The larvae are danger-
ous enemies, and nature has taught the beasts to shun
the flies that lay the eggs. The sharp bites of the blood-
sucking species are merely annoying, but the mere buzzing
of the bot-flies, that are themselves quite incapable of causing
pain, is terrifying.

Study 40. Insects Molesting Farm Animals

A dry, calm day in hot weather should be chosen for this
study, and if animals can be found resting in sheltered places
near woods and water, pestiferous insects will be numerous
about them. If the animals are gentle enough, the insects
may be captured by hand. Teams in the harness may be
examined for horse-flies and bot-flies, etc. Insect-nets may
hardly be used without frightening the animals. Captured
insects may be kept in cyanide bottles or in vials of alcohol
pending identification.

The program of work for this study may consist of observa-
tions on the behavior of horse-flics, horn-flies, bot-flies,
warble-flies, black-flies and other day-flying pests of animals,
made in whatever time, place and mamier local circumstances
will permit. Mosquitos may be observed at night without
effort. They attack animals as they do ourselves, being
satisfied with any situation where they can suck blood. The

2So NATUFLXL HISTORY OF TUE FARM

life history of mosquitos may be demonstrated by leaving a
vessel of rain-water exposed on a shaded window-sill, outside,
where the adult mosquitos may fly to it, for a fort!ii<;ht
before it is needed. Egg^ "^^'iH ^^ ^'-^^^^ on the surface and all
stages of development will quickly follow. Living larwe of
black-flies ("turkey-gnats," "sand-flies," etc.), horse-flies and
punkies and alcoliolic specimens of bot-fly and hom-fly larvae
may be shown in demonstration.

The record of this study may consist of a fully amiotatcd
list of the ]3cstiferous insects obser\Td. The notes should
cover such points as the following :

Tinie and place of observation and relevant weather
conditions.

Kind of animal molested, and sort of molestation (buzz-
ing, tickling, biting, egg-laying, etc.).

Means emplo\'ed by the animals for evading or in combat-
ing the pests (standing in water, in wind, in brush, switch-
ing or biting them, coating their hair with mud, etc.).

Breeding, places of pests.

XLI. OUT IN THE RAIN

'^Rainf Rain!
Oh, sweet Spring rain!
The world has been calling for thee in vain
Till now, and at last thou art with us again.
Oh, how shall we welcome the gentle showers,
The baby-drink of the first-born flowers,
That falls out of heiven as falleth the dew.
And touches the world to beauty anew?
Oh, rain! rain! dost thou feel and see
How the hungering world has been waiting for thee?

How streamlets whisper and leaves are shakeji,

And winter-sleeping things awaken,

And look around, and rub their eyes,

And laugh into life at the glad surprise;

How the tongues are loosened that late were dumb,

For 'the time of the singing of birds has come' ;

Hoiu every tender flower holds up,

In trembling balance, its tiny cup.

To catch the food that in sultry weather

Must hold its little life together?

Oh, blessings on thee, thou szveet Spring rain,

That callest dead things to life again! "

— James Brown Selkirk (.Rai7i).

From the point of view of thirsty things, the best weather
is the day of rain. The earth grows browTi and sere, waiting
for it. Growth ceases. The cattle languish. The farmer
scans the sky anxiously, looking for" clouds that promise
refreshment; for water is life's prime necessity.

The rain comes with phenomena of great impressiveness.
Were such things to be seen at only one place in the world,
men would travel the world over to see them. Bold thunder-
clouds rise, with crests as white as snow, resting on banks
as black as ink. The lightning flashes and the thtmder
rolls. The landscape darkens and the rain descends. Zig-
zag flashes cleave the blackness only to intensify it. There
is a scent of ozone from overhead, and the scent of the ground
comes up from below. It rains. And then the clouds lift a

281

282 NATURAL lIISnjRV (JF Till-: FARM

little, and a flood of H^lit flows in on the freshened atmosphere.
The rain ceases and the \-erdiire of the earth a])pears, slaked
and washed clean.

We do not, naturall}-, seek to kee]) out of the rain. As
children, we soui^ht to be out in it. The wann summer rain
was as refreshing as sunshine. It is due to our clothes
that we avoid getting wet. Our modeni attire is set
up with starch and glue, and the rain wilts it. For the siike
of such artificial toggery, we sacrifice some pleasures that are
part of our natural birthright.

Other creatures enjoy the rain. At its approach, many
of them enter u])on unusual activities. Insects swarm.
The rabbits by the roadside become more familiar. They
approach nearer to our doors, and sit longer amid the clover
when we come near them. Snakes run more in the open;
indeed, a snake in the open roadway is a venerable "sign"
of rain. Chickens oil their feathers, alternately pressing the
oil-gland and preening w4th their beaks; and if they get well
waterproofed before the storni breaks, and if the dowTi]30ur
be not too heavy, they will then stay out in it, and enjoy it.
Many birds sing more persistently — ^notably the cuckoo,
which doubtless, from this habit got the name "rain-crow."
Frogs croak vociferously, as if in ])leasant anticipation.
Flowers bend their heads.

When it rains, the moisture-loving tilings come forth.
Slime-molds creep out over the logs. Mushrooms spring
up. Slugs and millepedes and pill-bugs wander forth into
the open, and earthworms, as well, at night. And e\-ery-
where rumiing water is ]:>erfomiing its great functions of
burden-bearing, cutting, filling, leveling, and slowly cliiuiging
the toi)ography of the land, and distributing all mamier of
seeds over its surface. There is plenty to see and plenty to
hear when it rains.

OUT IN THE RAIN 283

Study 41. Out in the Rain

This is a study for the day when raincoats and rubbers
and umbrellas have to be taken afield, and when the coming
on of a heavy shower puts an end to other work. Then,
instead of fleeing indoors, it will be well to stay out and see
some of the interesting things that go on in the rain.

The program of work for the day of rain will vary with
time and circumstances. Therefore, we shall riave to be
content with a very few general suggestions.

First, before the stonn breaks, during the lull when the
"thunderheads" are mounting the sky, it will be a good time
to obser\^e the increased activity of certain animals, the
preparatory movements of certain flowers, the interesting
behavior of the barnyard fowls, and, above all, to listen to
the anticipatory chorus of frogs and tree-toads, and birds
and crickets and other animals that can not keep still.

Then, when the rains comes, the water-shedding power of
different kinds of foliage may readily be tested, if members
of the class will step under trees of different kinds and wait,
with raised umbrellas, and note how long it takes for the rain-
drops filtering thi^ough the foliage to come through in suf-
ficient numbers to make a continuous patter, with no individual
drops distinguishable. One may test the way in which any
tree standing in the open disposes of the water that falls
upon it, by walking under it over all the area it covers and
listening to the sounds of the drops falling about his head, on
the stretched umbrella.

When things are soaked with rain and the water is gather-
ing in rills, there are many things that may then be observed
with unusual advantage. The clouding of the streams
with inflowing silt will be very obvious. The burden the
streams are carrying may be easily demonstrated. It may
be tested by dipping a glass of running water and letting the
water settle to see the sediment; by placing one's fingers

>84

NATURAL IIISTURY OF THE FARM

across the current so as to feel the pehing of the pebbles
that are carried by the nil ; or, by listening to the ix)uncling
of the rocks in their descent of the larger gullies. Part of
what the slrtana carries is floating stuff — stems and leaves,
that will fall and dcca>', and seeds that will spring up in new
situations. The washing of different kinds and conditions
of soil may be seen. Indeed, it is only out in the rain that
erosion by the rills, and the buikhng of miniature deltas
and flood-plains, may be seen at their height.

When the rain has ceased, the rate of drying of the surface
of different kinds and conditions of soil may be obser\^ed.
One should compare newly plowed and fallow land, bare
fields, meadows and woods. Certain moisture-loving animals
will be seen al)road abundantly when the shower is ended—
snails, slugs, pill-bugs, worms, frogs, etc. Indeed, the wood
thrush is likely to be heard singing again almost as soon as
the downpour is ended; for, as Alexander Wilson obsers'cd
of it, "The darker the day, the sweeter is its song."

The record of this study may properly consist of notes on
things heard and seen, that are connected in any way with
the coming of the rain.

XLII. THE VINES OF THE FARAI

"They shall sit every man under his vine and under hisfigtree, and none
shall make them afraid.'' — Micah, 4:4.

The cultivated crops of the world have in the past grown
mainly in fields, gardens and vineyards. Many crops have
been raised in the fields, and still more in the gardens, but the
vineyards have been given over mainly to one crop — the fruit
of the vine. There is but one vine that fills any very large
place economically: the word vine means grapevine in
much of our ancient literature.

Before the dawn of history, the ancient cultivator found
the grape suited to his sunny hills. It was long-lived and
strong-rooted, and served to bind the soil of the terraced
slopes. It was resistant to drought and adaptable to situa-
tion. It was responsive to care and amenable to training.
It was beautiful in leafage and fragrant in flower and luscious
in fruit, and in every way desirable about his home. So he
made a vineyard for it, equipped with a watchtower and a
wine-press, and he fenced it in. He planted and fertilized it
and pnmed it and trained it over arbors, and sat beneath its
shadow. He ate its fruit and drank its vintage — and, some-
times, used its wine to make him drunken, even before the
dawn of history. It is a large and varied role that the
products of the vine have played in human affairs.

Other vines besides the grape are cultivated in fields and
gardens, but they are mostly short-lived herbaceous things like
hops, pole-beans, and gourds. One wild vine with excellent
edible tuberous roots, the apios, we have had before us in
Study 7 (fig. 37). Aside from the grape, the best kno^vn of our
vines are those that are raised for the singular beauty of their
flowers and foliage. Splendid flowers, indeed, are those of

285

286

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

the dinibiiiK roses and honeysuckles,
of the searlet tnimpet-vine, of the
virij:in's-bo\ver, of the moming-^lory
and the sweet pea. Most of these
are fra^ant as well as beautiful.
Fragrant also are the less conspicu-
ous flowers of the wild grape, the
clinibing hemp (Mikania scandens)
of the marshes, and the apios.

Vines arc plants that cannot stand
alone. They must have some sup-
port to hang or lean upon. They
vary in size from the wild grape that
revels in the tops of the great trees
of the forest, to the little cranberry
that trails over the surface of the
bog. They vary in strength from
the wiry rattans to the succulent cucurbits. Some of them
are possessed of special climbing apparatus; more of them
sustain themselves by twining about their supports; some
of the lesser herbaceous sorts maintain their position merely
by leaning — resting their elbows, so to speak — upon their
neighbors. All of thcni arc long of reach and rapid of

Fn;. 120. A spray of wild grape.

Fin. 121. \'irRinia creeper or " woodbine'

THE VINES OF THE FARM

287

growth, and all show a marked capacity for keeping their
heads out to the light.

Our wild vines vary in habit according to the form and
habits of the plants that furnish them support. As there are
trees and tall shrubs and low shrubs in every woodland, so
there are high-climbing and intermediate and low-growing
vines. The vines that are able to ascend to the crowns of the
forest are all woody climbers, having perennial stems. They
have two sorts of climbing apparatus. Wild grape and
Virginia creeper climb by means of tendrils; poison i\'y and
trumpet-vine, by means of root-like holdfasts which pene-
trate the bark of supporting trees. These are the vines that
furnish the principal draperies of our forests; that garland
with inimitable grace the old bare trunks; that spread
incomparably beautiful leaf mosaics over walls and fences and
over the crowns of small trees; and that fling out banners of
brilliant hues in autumn. They often smother the lesser
spreading trees under their dense leafage, and in killing them,
destroy their own support.

Of these tall vines, the wild grape has the longest reach.
Its annual shoots often attain a length of twenty feet. These
are equipped with long and strong tendrils that coil tightly
about any suitable small support. Once fimoly attached,
they seem able to withstand the driving of a hurricane.
Failing to find support, the shoots hang pendant, Hke
streamers, in the air. The Virginia creeper likewise wraps
its tendrils about twigs, but it also inserts their tips into
crevices, and then expands them into attachment discs.
By means of these, it is able to ascend bare trunks, as do the
vines with holdfasts, or to cling to the vertical face of a stone
wall, holding on with delicate but unyielding grasp.

The vines that reach the level of the tops of the largest
shrubs are mainly twiners. They ascend the shrubs by
twining their slender stems about them. The bittersweet

288

NATURAL HISTORY OF Till-: FARM

{Cclastrus scajidots) is i)crha]3S the tallest of these, and has
the bes-.t de\'elopinent of woody stems. It grows on dry
wooded hills. The nioonseed {Mcnispcrmwn canadcnse)
is a half-woody twiner that overruns the bushes in moist
lowland ihiekets. It is one of the best of vines for shady

Fk;. 122. Bittersweet, with fruit unopened.

places, and it has bcautifvil foliage. The large scalloped
lca\-es overla]) one another front the to]) to the ground like the
slates on a roof. There are herbaceous twiners on the taller
bushes also, like the bindweeds and the h()i)S. And the
balsam-apple {Fxhinocystis lohata) clinibs by neat tendrils of
singular efiiciency. And virgin's-bower {Clematis virginiana)
and other species of Clematis, climb by twisting the stalks
of leaf and leaflet about stems for support.

THE VINES OF THE FARAI

289

Flo. 123. An herbaceous climber — climbing buckwheat.

Of low-growing vines there is endless variety. They
twine, they climb, they sprawl. A few of the finer flowering
sorts, such as climbing roses and honeysuckles and apios, have
already been mentioned. Many of the lesser ones have
charming foliage. No gems glisten more brightly than do the
pendent fruits of the nightshade-bittersweet (fig. 124).
Nothing in the world is more beautiful than the delicate
tracery of these low-climbing things, commingling with and
garlanding the bushes.

Precious to the gardener are the vines, most slender and
fragile of nature's * 'lace-workers of the woods and brake".
With them he may quickly cover the unsightly shed or fence
with roods of blossoming verdure. He may overspread the
bare walls left by the
builder with a mantle
of varied green and
brown wrought in ex-
quisite design. He
may throw a filmy
mantle of life over
the top of mutilated
shrubbery. Nature
sets him splendid
models in every
thicket and by every
brookside.

Fig. 124. The climbing nightshade-bittersweet.

290

NATURAL HISTORY OF THK FARM

Study 42. The Larger Wild Vines of the Farm

The program of work in this study will consist of a trip
about the b(jrdiTS of a wood, alon<^^ a fence-row, and throuj^dia
bottom-land thicket, cxaniininj;, one by one, the dilTerent wild
vines of various sorts, and writing their characters in a table
prepared with the following colinnn headings:

Name (of plant).

Duration of stem (annual, bieimial, perennial).

Grows where (in sun or shade, wet or dry places, etc.).

On what (name support).

By what means (climbing or twining, ^^ hen climbing by
tendrils or holdfasts, diagram the same).
Stem (tell it in English) .

Character of • Lea\'es (diagram) .

Flower-cluster or fruit (diagram).

Foliage (character of ) .

Season's gro\\i:h, (maximiun length of).

Best suited to what situation and use.

The record of this study will consist of:

1 , The complete table, outlined above.

2. A little special report concerning some one very com-
mon vine, stating in what variety of situations it is foimP
growing, and with what dififerent kinds of supi^orts.

- XLIII. THE SWALE

"Bubble, bubble, flows the stream.
Here a glow arid there a gleam;
Coolness all about me creeping,
Fragrance all my senses steeping, —
Spice wood, sweet-gum, sassafras,
Calamus and water-grass,
Giving up their pungent smells.
Drawft from Nature's secret wells.''

— Maurice Thompson.

Waste land is land we have not learned how to use.
Much of it is too dry, and lacking water — the prime requi-
site for plant growth — ^it produces little, even of wild crops.
Much of it is too wet and, therefore, unsuited to our agri-
cultural methods, though nature produces on it her most
abimdant crops. Much of it is too rocky, and imsuited to
the use of our implements of tillage. Deserts and rocks
and swamps overspread vast areas of the earth's surface.
But miniature waste places of like character appear in sand-
ridge and stony slope and swale on many an inland fann.

Let us study the swale a bit — that most interesting and
most productive of waste areas. We will find it among the
tilled fields, where their gentle slopes run together, forming
a depression that is poorly drained. We will find it over-
spreading the level surface of some miniature valley between
upland hills, or by the stream-side or at the head of a bay
or pond. In such places the crops that we know how to raise
on farms will not thrive. There is too much water. The soil
is soft under foot. Though black with hmnus, and enriched
with the washings from surrounding slopes, it is sour, and
unavailable to our field crops.

It has its own crops, and they are never-failing. Always
it is a flowery meadow, densely crowded with plants of many
kinds in interesting association. It is a place of rushes and

291

292 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

SL'dgcs, rather than of grasses. It is a place of abundant
flowers the whole season through, from the cowslips and
cresses of spring to the asters and gentians of autumn.
It is a ]ilace where crawfish sink their wells, urunolested by
the plow, piling little circular mounds of exca\'aled earth
about the entrance; a place where rabbits hide, and where
song-birds build their nests; a place where the meadow
mice and shrews spread a network of runwa>'s over the
ground: in short, a i)lace where rich soil and almndant light
and moisture support a dense population, among which the
struggle for existence is keen.

If a fence-row extend down from the field into the swale,
let us follow that, and see how the wild plants change with
increasing soil moisture. The grasses of the fence-row begin
to be crowded out by sedges as the water-level comes nearer
the surface of the soil. Dry-ground asters and goldcnrods
and lobelias disappear, and wet groimd species of the same
groups appear instead. Bracken fern is replaced by marsh-
fern and sensitive fern; hazel by willow. Under foot, the
soil is gro\^'ing softer, blacker and more spongy.

If the swale has been cleared of woody plants, still alders
and willows are prone to linger about the wetter places, and
black-berried elder, osier-dogwood and meadowsweet about
the edges. Cat-tails and bulrushes (fig. i6, p. 36) will fringe
any open w^et spot, and tussock-sedges and clumps of juncus
will rise on mounds of gathered humus, like stumbling-blocks
before our feet, where dilTuscd springs abound.

No two swales arc alike in the character of their plant
population. But all agree in their meadowlike appearance,
in being made up of patches of rather unifonn character,
where uniform conditions ]3rcvail, and in ha\-ing each of these
areas dominated by one or two si-iccics of plants, with a
number of lesser plants as "fillers" in its midst, and a greater
variety of iniscellaneous plants growing about its edges.

THE SWALE

293

The dominant plants that cover consider-
able areas of the swale, almost to the
exclusion of other plants, are mainly
grass-like plants, capable of close gro^vth
above ground and nearly complete occu-
pation of the soil. They are such marsh
grasses as the panicularias (from which
marsh hay is made) and reed, on wetter
Fig. 125. A heavy cius- soil; such bulrushcs as SciTpus fluviatilis\
(FaHLX?a"S'a^t'e? such otlicr plants, as cat-tails and bur-

Britton and Brown. ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^y^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^

sweet flag {Acorus calamus) and blue flag {Iris versicolor).
Where these grow most compactly, there are a few lesser
plants intermixed, filling the niches, reaching into light
above and spreading roots in the superficial layers of the soil.
With permanent conditions, the mixtvire of plants will
remain much the same year after year. They are nearly all
perennials, holding their place by continuous occupancy of
it. Each is striving to extend its domain, but there is Httle
opportunity. In the permanent association of certain species
together there are some fine mutual adjustments. The
taller broad-leaved perennials, like swamp-milkweed and
joe-pye-weed and boneset, root rather deeply, and stand
stifay erect. The top layers
of the soil are left by them
to such lesser things as marsh
skullcap, bedstraws, and
tear-thumbs, whose strag-
gling sprays reach out and
find the light. The annual
herbs of the swale are few;
they are such as jewel-weed
and Spanish needles, that
depend for their opportunity

Flower and fruit of the jewel-

294 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

to find a place on some disturbance of existing condi-
tions. A niuskrat or a mole U])hcaves a mound of earth,
and the seeds of these annual weeds, fallinj^ into this
imoccna] icd soil, flourish there for a season ere the root-
stocks of more permanent perennials again invade it. The
annuals of the swale are quick-growing things, that depend
for their success in the world upon their ability to shift
from place to place, to find new o]:)enings, and to get in
and mature a crop of seeds before the perennials crowd
them out again.

There are many beautiful and interesting flowers in the
sw^ale : yellow flowers, such as Saint John's wort, buttercups,
goldcnrods and loosestrife; blue flowers, such as monkey-
flowers, lobelias and gentians ; white flowers, such as meadow-
rue, turtleheads, avens and cresses; pink flowers, such as
cockle-mint, willow-herb, fleabane and marshmallows ; red
swamp-lilies and flaming scarlet cardinal -flowers ; and others
in great variety and in continual succession. Forms like those
that grow on shoals (mentioned on page 35) will appear if there
be pcmiancnt 0])cn water. Indeed, a careful study of even
a small swale might discover the presence of a hundred or
more plant species. Ten or a dozen of these are likely to be
found to comprise the greater bulk of the plant po]nilation.
The dominant species are mainly those having comparatively
simple and inconspicuous flowers, w^hose pollen is distributed
by winds. The dominant species extend their domain chiefly
by strong vegetative offshoots, occui)y the soil with strong
roots, and never let go.

THE SWALE 295

Study 43. Observations on the Plant Life of a Swale

Some small open area of wet ground, well grown up in wild
meadow, londrained, and not pastured, should be selected
for this study. An outline map should be provided, unless
the form be simple. Digging tools will be needed, and also
facilities for washing roots.

The program of work may consist of :

1 . A general survey of the swale as to :

(a) The mixing of dr>^-groimd and wet-groimd forms at

its margin.

(b) The areas into which it is naturally marked out by

the uniformity of the plant growth covering them
("plant associations").

these plant associations.

2. An examination of the plants in several associations
as to the relations they bear to one another both above and
below ground. Some should be cut so that the leafage may
be viewed from the side as well as from above; and some
should be dug up, so that the depth and distribution of the
roots may be noted.

The record of this study may consist of:

1. A map of the swale, with topographic features and the
principal plant associations (including bordering shrubbery)
marked out upon it, , Explanations to the map should name
at least the dominant species present in each association.

2. Diagrams, illustrating vertical sections of the swale

herbage, showing the relations of the principal components

of several associations, both above and below ground. These

should show how the branches of each species are placed to

reach the light, and how the roots are distributed in the soil.

[Note: The above program is laid out in the behcf that the study
of the swale will be most instructive if we seek to learn how the various
members of nature's dense wet-ground population get on together;
but if an acquaintance with the entire plant population be desired, the
record may take the form of an annotated and illustrated list of species. |

XIJV. Till' in^AMBLES OF TITF FARM

"Erratic 'cauderiugs through deadenitig-lands
Where sly old briimhles pluckiug me by stealth
Put berries in my hands."

— Riley (.t Country Pathway).

Brambles arc intunatc associates of the farmer. Wherever
man has tilled a field, thorny things of some sort have settled
I^eaceably along its borders. Ever ready to invade the
"garden of the slothful," they have had a share in promoting
regular tillage. Just beyond the domain of the plow, they
stop and hold the fort. They are wild intractable things, no
respecters of clothes, nor of feelings, nor of any of the ways of
civilization. Under their cover other wild things dwell.

Before there were famis, the brambles doubtless occupied
the openings in the woods where giant trees had recently
fallen, and other spots left temporarily unoccupied ; for, after
the annual weeds, they are among the first plants to appear
in such places. Their seeds are planted by birds, which eat
their berries. Hence the dead tree, the fence, the stone pile
or the stimip pile in the field, or any other thing in the open
ground that offers an alighting place for birds, is sure to have
a lot of brambles about it.

They spring first from seeds, but later they spread lustily
from offshoots of various kinds, and fonn thickets. The
more typical brambles (thoniy members of the genus Rtibus)
have short-lived stems, which early crowd out the weeds, and
after a few years are themseh'cs outstrii:)]:)ed and overtopped
and shaded and killed by taller-growing shrubs and trees. In
the woods, therefore, their occupancy of any given place
where trees ma}- grow is but temporar}^ : but in the fence-row
where the farmer keeps the trees cut down, thc>' may h(^ld on
indefinitel}'. If mowed or burned, they spring up again from
uninjured roots.

296

THE BRAMBLES OF THE FARM

297

Our most typical bramble is the wild blackberry.
Its stout, thorny biennial canes shoot up to full height
one year, and bloom and fruit and die the next. Year
by year, the dead canes, commingled with the living, accum-
mulate in the bramble patch, making it more and more
impenetrable. They gather to themselves as they settle to
the earth, an abundance of falling leaves, and fill up the center

of the thicket
with a rich
mulch that
keeps the
ground moist,
and favors the
gro\\i:h of the
tallest canes
and the finest
berries. There
is no chance for
grass to grow in
the midst of
such a thicket,
but only about
its borders.
The wild red
raspberry makes thickets that are less thorny and less
dense, but that are hard to penetrate because the long
overarching canes, fastened to the earth at both ends,
trip one up badly. The red canes, covered with whitish
bloom and bearing handsome and gracefully poised
leaves, are very beautiful. This bramble loves the shelter
of a brush pile or fallen tree. Its extremely long reach and its
habit of striking root wherever a tip meets the ground, enable
it to shift its location, moving one stride each season. It
often springs from seed on the top of some rotting log or
stump.

Pig. 127. Wild blackberry: A young shoot of the season,
fruiting shoot, and a dead cane.

298 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

The dewberr}' foniis low, trailing, nearly thoniless
thickets at the level of one's shoetops in dry fields. There
are other blaekberries and raspberries also, in both wetter and
drier situations, and many other thorny things, such as wild
rose, wild gooseberry (fig. 3 on p. 1 8) and greenbrier, in the

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

^^^^ ^^W^^^^V^^^^>^^C^^^^^ us, they happen

to be found

bearing a load

of luscious fruit.

Their fruit-

FiG. 12s. Wild red raspberry. . • ,i -i j

ing in the wild
we may, indeed, with profit obser\'e, if we would manage
'udsely their cultivated relatives; for in the wild we may
easily see what sort of soil and amount of shading and kind
of mulch produce the finest crop of fruit. Their love for
partially shaded situations renders raspberries especially
adapted to be used as "fillers" in young orchards.

Any good blackberry patch, clustering about an old stone
heap or rail pile in a pasture, ^^'ill give an excellent opportunity

THE BRAMBLES OF THE FARM

299

for observing the mutual helpfulness
of many of the wild things in nature.
At the edges of the clump, the adven-
turous new bramble sprouts, ventur-
ing out too far, are cropped with the
grass by the cattle: but, wherever
a stem has lived to harden its thorns,
close by it new sprouts may raise
their heads in safety. So may other
herbage also, some common asso-
ciates of the brambles, being cudweed
and goldenrod and bracken fern and
elder. The seeds of the last named
are doubtless planted also by the
birds. The grass grows tall in a peri-
pheral zone among the canes, and
under its matted
tufts numerous

Fig. 129. Wild rose.

runways of
meadow mice are to be found. And it
is a poor brier patch, even tho it be a
small one, that does not shelter the door
of a deep burrow of some family of
woodchucks, skunks or rabbits. Lovers
of Uncle Remus will remember that Brer
Rabbit proclaimed the brier-patch to
be the place of his nativity. *

Fig. 130. Cudweed.

*"Co'se Brer Fox wanter hurt Brer Rabbit bad ez he kin, so he cotch
'im by de behime legs, en slung 'im right in de middle er de brier-patch.
Dar wuz a considerbul flutter whar Brer Rabbit struck de bushes, en
Brer Fox sorter hang 'roun' fer ter see w'at wuz gwincter happen.
Bimeby he hear some body call 'im, en way up de hill he see Brer Rabbit
settin' cross-legged on a chinkapin log koamin' de pitch outen his har
wid a chip. . . . Brer Rabbit . . . holler out: "Bred en
bawn in a brier-patch, Brer Fox — bred en bawn in a brier-patch!" —
Harris ( Uncle Remus, p. 18.)

300 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Brambles follow in the wake of the ax. In deadenings of
standing timber they flourish apace — a transient population,
soon submerged if trees be allowed to grow again, and easily
eradicated with the plow. Yet feeble and transient as they
are, they are e\'er with us in those nooks and angles of the
fann that are neither plowed nor tree-covered, and all manner
of vn\d things love them.

Study 44. The Brambles of the Farm

The object of this study is to learn something of the
interesting habits of this Uttle-cstecmed class of wild plants,
something of the conditions of their existence, of their rela-
tions to other plants and animals, and of their relations to
ordinary fanning operations.

The program of work will consist of :

1 . Digging up in the patches specimens of all kinds of
brambles, examining them, root and branch, 'and making
brief notes and sketches for the list mentioned below.

2. Examining in some pasture the make-up of a typical
blackberry patch that is spreading from an old fence or brush
pile or stone heap.

3. Comparing the growth of specimens of some one com-
mon kind of bramble, as the blackberry, in different situa-
tions, in relation to conditions in each place.

The record of this study will consist of:

1. An illustrated list of all the brambles studied, with
diagrams showing, for each species, manner of growth, mode
of increase, succession of stems (canes), flowering or fruiting,

etc.

2. A diagram of a vertical section of a brier patch, show-
ing the briers in their relative height and abundance from
center to margin, showing dead mulch and green ground-
cover herbage, showing the conunon plants intermixed,

THE BRAMBLES OF THE FARM 301

including at least one small tree, and showing the location of
nests, runways, or burrows of such resident animals as are
noted. Both the preceding diagrams call for clear and
detailed labels and explanations.

3 . A brief statement of the best and worst natural condi-
tions found for good growth and fruit production in the
bramble selected for special study.

XLV. Tin- P( )PULATIOX OF AX OLD Al'PLi: TRKE

'".l/v host 7L'(js (1 hountiful apple tree:
He utive me shelter and flourished we
With the best of fare, all fresh and free.

And light-unnged guests came not a fetv.
To his leafy inn, and sipped the deu\
And sang their best songs ere they fletv.

I slept at night on a downy bed

Of moss, and my host benignly spread

His own cool shado-M over my head.''

— Thomas Westwood {Mine Host).

There are few trees about the fann home so well beloved
in childhood as the old apple trees. The grass grows like a
car|3et under their S]:)reading crowTis. Their smooth hori-
zontal boughs seem to ha^-e been made to climb in. Their
fruit was certainly made to eat. Food and shade and
pleasant pastime — all these for us, and not for us alone, but
for many other creatures as well.

The robin loves to build her plastered nest in the stout
crotch of the apple bough where we'll concealed by the leaves
on a few tliin "water-sprouts." The dove selects a horizontal
spray, and lays her thin platfonn of t\\ng3 across the level
branches. Catbird and thrush and many other song-birds
search the thickest of the unpruned cro\\Tis for home-sites.
The apple tree covers them with its leaves and embowers
them with its flowers in the time of nest building, and sup-
ports, all summer long, a multitude of insects that ser\'e
them well for food. In an old * 'stag-headed'* tree, the
dead and hollow snag may be perforated and occupied
by woodpeckers, or later by wrens and s])arrows. But
whether woodpeckers find a nesting place in the apple
tree or not, they find food in it, in the insects that
burrow in its bark and wood. One may hear their tapping

302

THE POPULATION OF AN OLD APPLE TREE 303

in the orchard at almost any time; and by carefully watch-
ing, may see them chiseling holes with their stout beaks,
and extracting borers from the wood, or caterpillars hidden
under the hca\'y flakes of bark. Their perforations may be
foimd on any old tree, especially in bark and dead bough.
Often there are sap-pits to be seen, also, in the fresh green
bark of the larger boughs. These are placed in regular trans-
verse rows, close together. They are made by sapsuckers,
at the time of sap-flow in the early s]:)ring (see Chapter 2 2 ,
page 169). These are made to "bleed" the tree and not to
rid it of pests. They are not very harmful, however, for they
are made in such a way that they quickly heal in the grow-
ing season. The pits are small, and living bark from which
new growth may spread is left between the pits. Nature
has taught the sapsuckers how to take the sap and soft fiber
of the inner bark from the trees without seriously injuring
them. The sapsuckers pay for this by eating injurious
insects that hide beneath the old and flaky bark of the trunks.

A few birds are residents in the trees, but many others
come and go. Some, like crows and jays, slip in unawares,
merely to peck holes in the reddest of the apples on the
upper boughs. Others, like ctickoos, come to feed on cater-
pillars. There are many mammals that like apples as well
as we do ; and some small wild ones make nocturnal visits to
the orchard. There are many insects that visit it, in blos-
soming time, for nectar or for pollen, as we have seen in
Study 30. But the most important part of the population
of the apple tree is the resident population, composed of
insects that are wholly dependent on the apple tree for their
livelihood.

These are both beneficial and injurious insects ; and the latter
will usually appear to be in excess. There is no part of the
tree exempt from the attacks of some of them. On the
roots, tilers are wooly aphids clustering and causing rounded

304 NATURAL HISTORY oF Till- FARM

galls to grow where they make ]ninetnr(s with their beaks.
On the new bark and on the leafy shoots, there are other
ai)hids feeding together in great coloni(^s, gregariously.
These, though minute and ineons])icuous in themselves, are
readily located on new shoots because of the crinkling they
cause the leaves to undergo. On an old neglected a])])le
tree, there are a])t to be many minute scale-insects scattered
about, adherent to the bark of the green t^^^gs. These are
very minute and incons]:)icuous creatures, that SLppcav life-
less, indeed, but they are, by reason of the persistence of their
attack and their very rapid rate of increase,
among the worst enemies of the trees.

Of caterpillars, there is a long succession
and a great variety to be found on the apple
tree. In spring, the tent-cateri^illar spins its
huge webs conspicuously in the crotches
of the apple boughs. Though the tent-cater-
PiG. 131. Oyster- piU^rs wiU all be gone before midsummer
appie''?l-fR°"a^d and a new gro\\i:h ^^dll be replacing the leaves

one enlarged. ^^^^^ ^^ ^j^^^^^^ ^j^^-^. empty WCbS WiU Still

be seen upon neglected trees. In their stead, two other
moth lar\'ae, popularly known as the yellow-necked and the
red-humped caterpillars, may be found devastating the
foliage. Other lesser cateq^illars that injure the leaves arc
the bud-moth caterpillar, that works in opening buds, the
pistil-case-bearer that gnaws out little patches from
the surfaces of the leaf, and the apple -leaf -miner, that
lives within the leaf substance, making a ti-umpet-shaped
blotch of a mine between upper and lower e]:)idcrmis. The
last two will be found by looking for s])otted leaves that
have their margins uninjured.

The fruit of the apple is the place of residence for three
insects of the sort shown in figure 6 on page 22. The larva
of the codling-moth is a caterpillar that works in the core of
the apple. The larva of the a])ple-curculio is a weevil that

THE POPULATION OF AN OLD APPLE TREE

305

works in the flesh of the apple, its location being marked
by a conspicuous surface scar. The apple -maggot works also
in the flesh, burrowing through it in all directions, and leav-
ing discolored streaks from which rotting proceeds. Then
there are beetles, whose larvae are borers, the most injurious
of which work beneath the bark of young trees at the surface
of the ground, more or less completely girdling the trees.
Two or three of these burrows may kill a large tree. These
illustrate the appalling harm that may come from a small
wound in a critical place ; these cut off the tree-cro\\TL from
its base of supplies.

Fig. 132. A plant bug,

its nymph.

and a leaf-hopper.

These are the worst of the apple pests. Others there are
in plenty, that feed here and there, now and then. Plant
bugs and leaf -hoppers are always present in some numbers
among the foliage, feeding. And in an old tree, having much
dead wood present, there are sure to be foimd wood-destroy-
ing beetles of most of the sorts mentioned in Study 24.
And each and every one of these species has its enemies
and its train of parasites.

The apple tree is useful to us, but it is necessary to many
lesser creatures, for it fiunishes all their living. It is the
center of a considerable population, the inter-relations of
which are of infinite complexity. There is no living thing
that either lives or dies unto itself alone.

3o6 NATURAL HISTORY OF TIIK FARM

Study 45. The Population of an Old Apple Tree

An orchard of old neglected apple trees should be selected
for this study. A few tools will be needed for coninion use:
saws for bringing do\\'n branches; haniniers for stri]^ping
bark; nets for "sweeping" the foliage to capture flying in-
sects; and cyanide bottles to hold specimens pending their
identification.

The program of work will consist of:

1. A preliminary sur\'ey of the trees (to be made while
walking among them, by the members of the class observing
tilings together) to discover the location of birds' nests; the
work of woodpeckers, of mice, etc. ; the old nests of tcnt-
catcrpillars; fresh defoliation by caterpilalrs; colonies of
aphids and scalc-insccts; the presence of wormy fruit, etc.

2. A detailed examination (to be made by members of
the class individually) of the life to be found on or in the
leaves, bark, twigs and fruit of a single tree. Old bark should
be stripped off and its crevices examined; new bark should
be searched carefully. Every discoloration or deformation
of the leaves should be looked into, and fruits should be
cut open and searched carefully. Those examining diHerent
trees may, with profit, compare results in the end.

The record of this study may consist of :

1 . A large diagram of a single api)le tree with the location
of the members of its population, that affect the green and
living tree, indicated (by s>Tnbols and explanatory footnotes)
upon it.

2. An amiotated list of the entire i^pulation in tliree parts:

(a) Transient visitors.

(b) Resident enemies.

The notes should cover the relations that each species
bears to the apple tree.

XLVL THE LITTLE BROOK GONE DRY

"/« heat the quivering landscape lies;
The cattle pant beneath the tree;
Through parching air and purple skies

The earth looks up in vain for thee;
For thee, for thee, it looks in vain,
gentle, gentle summer rain."

— William C. Bennett (Invocation to Rain).

When summer comes, many brooks cease their singing.
When the leafage of the season is developed, the surplus
water of the soil ceases to feed the brooks; for it is gathered
by the plant roots and distilled silently through the pores
of innumerable leaves into the thirsty atmosphere. The
silvery streams become broken into segregated pools, which
dwindle and dwindle as the drouth increases. Where the
floods of springtime made their deepest plunges, there lie
basins of bare mud. Truly the brook's inhabitants are
subject to sore vicissitudes; to the ice of winter and the
floods of spring is now added the severest test of all — the
withdrawal of the water.

Let us take our way up the bed of some small stream that
has lingered well through a long dry season, but has finally
gone dry. How great are the changes in the conditions of
life! Here, where shining water played among the pebbles,
toying with their dainty drapery of green and brown algae,
there is nothing left on stones and brook-bed but a gray
powder that crumbles to dust at a touch. There, where was
a pool, where tadpoles basked and water-skaters raced over
the surface, now lies a sheet of baked mud, caked and
cracked in deep fissures. The Hfe of the brook itself is gone :
at least, it is gone from the places in which we usually find
it. And yet, we know it will reappear, for where there is
drouth now, there has been drouth before, and failure of

307

3o8

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Fig. 133. "Pitchforks"' or "Spanish Needles" in flower
see fig, 39 on page 69 for fruit.

water, times in-
numerable, tliru
past centuries :
and we know that
nature maintains
in the brook only
such plants and
animals as are
ca])able, in one
way or another,
of meeting the exigencies of such times as this.

If the aquatic plants have disappeared, and the aquatic
animals also, sa\'e for a few that may be discovered hiding
under trash in the moister places, there wdll be found plenty
of semi-aquatic brookside things still remaining. There
^^'ill be weeds of many sorts, overhanging and brushing
against us as we pass up the chamicl; willow-herbs and
pitch-forks (fig. 133) in the sun, and rich weed (fig. 134) in
the sliady places. Then there will be coarse and straggling

Richweed {Pilea puniila).

THE LITTLE BROOK GONE DRY

30^

sedges; also, some fine close-growing tussock-sedges, that
build hillocks of green at the edges of the channel. There
will be grasses, also; especially the pale cut-grass (Leersia),
fringing the edges of former pools. There will be a few fine

mints, such as pepper-
mint, spearmint, water-
mint, and the less
attractive bugle-weed.
There will be a few fine
wild flowers, such as
turtleheads, skullcaps
and lobelias. There
will be evidences of
animal life in the tracks
of the muskrat and of
birds in the dried mud-
bed of the pools.

Robins, that sit, while
we pass by, on the lower
branches of the trees,
with gaping beaks, pant-
ing in the shade — these
have been exploring the
brook-bed before us.
They have been seeking
for things to replace
earthworms in their
diet, since the dr^ang
of the topsoil in the
fields has driven the
worms doTVTi below . Other things there are to take advantage
of the hapless brook-dwellers. The concentration of the
pools leaves their inhabitants exposed to merciless
enemies.

Fig. 135. A late-season spray of the fowl
meadow-grass {Panictdaria nervata) , show-
ing vegetative aerial offsets with roots: a small
lateral oflEset is shown enlarged at the right.

3IO

NATURAL HISTOkY (>F THE FARM

\\'herc burrowing cra\\^shcs abound, their holes will be
found — some of them capped over with mud chimneys since
the drought began. We can test the dej^th to wliich the
water-level in the soil lias descended by probing the craw-
fish holes with a stick.

Where we lose the channel of the brook,
as we pass out into a small grassy flood-plain,
we find that though there is no water in sight,
there is moisture in the soil. Such soil-gather-
ing tilings as the fowl-meadow-grass (fig. 135)
are making the most of the situation; they are
covering the plain with a tangle of stems that
will strain out of subsequent floods their burden
of silt and trash. Thus will the plain be built
a little higher; another la>'cr will be added to
form rich moisture -holding soil.

By the side of the brook gone dry, nature
sets us exami)les in the conservation of
moisture. There we may find plants bunied
to death with the drouth; otlicrs of the same
species wilted sadly, but still alive; and others,
green and flourishing. The dilTcrences are
mainly due to the disposition of the soil about
their roots; soil hard and bare in the first case,
and well adapted to facilitate loss of water;
and loose soil well co\-ercd from the sun in
the last case, and full of rescr^'e moisture.

Somewhere, along our brook, we may come upon a reedy
swale now dry enough to walk across, but never dry enough
for field-crops, and therefore left unmolested by the plow.
It is apt to be filled with sedges and marsh fenis, with a
few cat-tails in the wettest spots, and to have round alnjut,
a fringe of moisture -loving composites such as boncsct, joc-
pye weed, swamp-milkweed, goldenrod and New England

Fig. 136. Fruit-
ing panicle of
the fowl-mead-
ow-grass.

THE LITTLE BROOK GONE DRY 311

aster. Such a meadow glade is sure to be the home of many
little rodents, such as meadowmice and shrews. If we look
among the grass about the flower-clumps, we will find their
shallow nmways at the surface of the grotmd.

Study 46. A Brook Gone Dry

This is a study for a dry season in midsummer. The brook
chosen for it should be flowing through water-holding soils,
and it should be one that is ordinarily a ''living" brook, but
that has succumbed to the drouth.

The program of w^ork will consist of a survey of a portion
of the brook-bed and its borders, of sufficient extent to in-
clude typical portions, such as riffles and pools and miniature
flood-plains. Brookside plants are to be observed, as well as
all signs of animal life; also the m^ore obvious relations of the
water supply and the brook to different levels of adjacent
fields. Observe what kinds of plants have succumbed to the
drouth and where situated.

The record of this study may consist of:

1 . A sketch-map of the portion of the brookside studied,
showing location of pools, riffles, rock ledges, flood-plains,
leaf -drifts, etc., and showing also the principal natural plant
formations by the brookside.

2. Lists of plants and animals found in the more typical
situations, with notes on their condition as affected by the
drouth. List all plants foimd in the brook-bed, whether
they belong there or whether they be chance seedlings of
land plants springing up in imsuitable places.

XLVII. SWIMMING HOLES

"IIV tied hae paidl't i' the burn
From inoruiu' sun till dine.''

— Burns (Auld Lang Syne).

Of all elemental tastes, the liking for dal^bling in water is,
perhaps, the most widespread. Man and beast and bird,
with few exce])tions, love the waterside. They drink, they
bathe, they pla}' there. The water is cooling and refreshing.
It yields cleanliness, and comfort, and pleasant recrea-
tion.

Swimming is one of the most widespread accomplishments
in the animal world, even among terrestrial mammals.
Most of them swim instinctively, just as they eat or breathe.
Man is the only one that acquires the art by practice. For
nearlv all others, swimming is an inherited ancestral habit,
that probably harks back to a remote age; for life began
in the water, and the more primitive members of all the
great groups of animals are aquatic still.

Certain of our wild semi-aquatic mammals, like the otter
and the mink, swim and dive and play in the water with an
ease and a grace and an abandon that are delightful. Their
agility almost equals that of fishes. Young otters are re-
ported to chase each other down slides in the banks, like
boys in a swimming hole. But our domesticated beasts
rarely swim voluntarily. They prefer merely to dabble in
the edge of the water, enjo>-ing its coolness and a certain
protection it affords from flies. Hogs wallow and smear
themselves with mud. The American bison did likewise.
Cows stand in the water in fl}'-time, with their thin-sknnned
under parts immersed, and their tails flinging spray over
their backs. Tliis sort of installment shower-bath does good
in two ways. When it wets the wmgs of flics, it puts them

312

SWIMMING HOLES

313

temporarily out of commission; and when the water evap-
orates, its effect is cooHng on the cow's skin.

The song-birds, also, have their bathing places. We
walk up a small rivulet on a hot day, and cautiously approach
its pools, and there we find the robins and the sparrows
and other birds at their aquatic sports. Standing singly or
by twos and threes in the shoal water, they create a great
shower with the flutter of their wings. And this they do at
great personal risk; for cats and other enemies may be

lurking in the shrubbcr\'
that grows beside the
pools . One of the ways
to conserve the birds
is to provide them with
safe water fountains.

Man is imitative far
beyond every other
creature, and especially
so in youth. It is
natural, therefore, that
he should enter the
water and try to do
there, even though clumsily, what he sees other creatures
doing. Once in the new medium, and used to its coolness
and its buoyancy, the boy begins to try the tricks of the
swimming-things about him. The dog swims in one way,
and he imitates that. The frog swims in another way, and
he imitates that. And then he begins to invent new ways
of his own.

The greatest social center in Boyville is the swimming
hole. Its popularity is undoubted. Its resources are in-
exhaustible. It is democratic beyond most of our institu-
tions. It isn't much of a place to look at, as a rule — just a
bit of open water, a pond, or a pool in the creek, with broad

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

314

NATURAL HISTORY OF THIC FARM

shoals where beginners may Icani, and a deej) hole for the
skillful to plunge in, and a clean bank on wliich to come out

and dress. The only

'■A>^;

Fii;. Lib. Poor modi-rn alternatives.

necessary artificial
eciuii^ment is a spring
board, to aid in making
spectacular plunges.
And if it have, slop-
ing into the water, a soft clay bank down wliich bare feet
may slide, or a black stick}- mud, suitable for bodily
decorations, it is especially well endowed by nature.
Where else on earth is there so simple an equipment capable
of fostering so much luialloycd pleasure, or of so eflectively
putting "every care beyond recall?"

There is so much to learn at the swimming hole ! Floating,
and diving, and ducking, and staying under, and springbroad
plunges, and swimming in all positions and with all the
strokes ; and every new feat mastered and well and publicly
performed, adds so to one's standing and respectability and
influence in the swimming-hole community — it must be
real education!

^^^, zBx,

I"iG. l.J'J. "Every care beyond recall"'

SWIMMING HOLES 315

Study 47. Swimming Holes

This is a study of the common propensity of land animals
toward water sports and pastimes. A hot day should be
selected, and places chosen where animals naturally gather
by the waterside. The creatures most available for observa-
tion will probably be small boys, dogs, pigs, cows, and birds.
If any one does not know where the swimming holes are, let
him ask the first small boy of the neighborhood encountered.
To locate the watering-places of farm animals, let him ask
the stockman. To locate the best bird baths, let him ask
some local ornithologist; or, better, let him put up his own
basin for the benefit of the birds in some place convenient
for observation and away from danger and alarms and keep
it supplied with fresh water; the birds will come and use it,
without resenting observation. Times for making observa-
tions of the various sorts suggested should be so chosen as to
avoid school-time and mealtime of the boys, milking time for
the cows, and feeding time and sleeping time for all the others.

The program of work for this study wall have to be shaped
in accordance with the local opportunities offered; it is left
wholly to the instructor. Better than a single session's obser-
vations on the aquatic habits of a variety of animals, may be a
record for a week of brief daily observations at one batliing
place (as for example, at a bird-foimtain), notes being kept
on the numbers and kinds of participants and the nature of
their aquatic sports.

The record of this study will vary with the subjects selected
and the opportunities for observation. It should narrate
the full procedure of the animals studied when they are
taking a bath, whether in mud or water. It should include
an accoimt of all the aquatic activities of the animals ob-
served, evidences of benefit or of pleasure deri\'cd therefrom,
and the location and character of the aquatic situations
chosen by each species for its pastime.

XLVIIL WINDING ROADS

"0, dCiLH the valley do they go, where all is sr.ceet and still,
To gently wind and turn about and hide behind the hill.
They are not as the city's streets; they have no clash and roar
But high and wide above them do the songbirds wheel and soar;
A nd bordering their sides are vines, that spill their wealth of bloom
Through which the sunshine spatters like jewels in the gloom.
Where do they go? the little roads that find the hidden ways,
As memories that ramble down through tnisty yesterdays."

— Wilbur D. Nesbit {The Winding Roads).

This is our last field trip together. Let us betake ourselves
to some little ■s\dnding roadway that has escaped the "march
of progress." No fine highway for us today; no boulevard,
graded like a speedway, raw in its newness, full of dust and
din, or stinking with oil. No, let it be a little unimproved
roadway winding among the hills; a roadway %vith a past,
and with no concern about the future, settled, peaceful,
redolent with the fragrance of bordering woods and fields;
a roadway circling the hills and not demanding their removal ;
a roadway "with the scars of its ancient struggle for existence
all healed; its embankments hidden by graceful drapery of
verdure let down over them from the bordering woods.
And, if it be a dusty roadway, may the dust be clean and cool,
dappled with the shadows of pleasant trees or pitted with the
fall of the great drops of the smiimer rain, or printed with
the feet of men or animals, or with the wheels of lazy
vehicles.

If such it be, we shall see few people passing, but we may
see other inhabitants : for the bushes by such a roadside are
full of birds, and rabbits and gophers sit nibbling at the way-
side clovers. The signs of other passers-by will not be lack-
ing. A sinuous trail through the dust may show where a
garter snake crossed the road; the streaks radiating from a
"chuck-hole" in a rut may show where a grouse took a dust-

316

WINDING ROADS 317

bath. Tracks of crows and squirrels on the dust or on the
mud after a rain may tell of their coming and going.

But if there be neither man nor beast nor bird in evidence,
there are many other things that make the roadside interest-
ing, and not the least of these is the succession of pictures that
every turn discloses.

Here we pass a few panels of old fence draped with Virginia
creeper, and backed up by spreading ha^^^homs and sprightly
chokecherries. The clay bank at its foot is overspread with
a mixed carpet of grasses and mosses and cinquefoil and
mouse-ear. A long purple raspberry cane reaches through
the panel, and near it are a coarse pink-topped teasel and a
blue aster. Nobody planted these so: nobody figured out
their times and seasons, their hannonies of color and form,
their requirements of light and moisture. They slipped in
unawares, each finding its own place, and proceeded to cover
a clay bank and a bare fence with loveliness. Yonder, where
a carelessly set fire has laid bare a little strip, one may see by
the contrasting ugliness what beauty they have wTought.

On the other side are trees. Their boughs are thick and
bushy, and heavy with leafage. Long years have passed
since the road was cut through, gi^' ing full exposure to the sun,
and the trees have robed themselves with hea\y foliage
masses coming down to the ground. They are full-fledged.
Ahead, we see their gracefully rounded outlines and their
colors, and near at hand the dainty sculpturings and textures
of their leaves come into view. Yonder is a dark, shadowy
glade with a canopy of overarching birch tops abo\'e, and
with slender horizontal sprays of leaves of maple extended
beneath as though they were floating in the air. Below we'
catch a gleam from the surface of a dark pool.

Now we come to a steeply rising banlc, which doubtless was
once bare — ^long since, when graders had finished their work.
But nature had some wild roses and asters growing on the

3i8 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

siunniit, and these .cjew and spilled over and poured do\\Ti the
slope to the very roadside, where they remain to this day in
chamiing confusion. And year after year the bank is flecked
with the pink of the roses in siunmer and dappled with the
blue of the asters in autiunn.

We ])ass under a KT*eat oak that stretches its lonp: horizontal
boughs across our way, holding out flat canopies of leaves,
whose shadows run waveringly over the dust of the road.
We round the top of the little hill, where the view opens out
across a valley with a strip of sparkling water. We descend a
gentle slope and come upon a low-lying nieadow, bordered
with great masses of golden-rod and elder. We cross a
bridge, ahnost without seeing it; for it is the sort of bridge
ovir fathers builded, a bridge of gray stone taken from tlie hill-
side ledge : a broad and solid bridge built to stand while the
rill nms beneath it. The rill is hidden by herbage, but we
hear its gurgling. AAHiat was once a rubbish-heap below, is
now a blossomy mass of verdure, with virgin 's-bower and
morning-glories running riot over it. Across the meadow lie
the shadows of tree-forms cast from the hill behind us, and
beyond the meadow rises a steep tree-clad slope, with the
tessellated sprays of beech and the rounded crowns of the
maple mingled and rising lilce billows to the ridge. There, a
few white pines stand out like sentinels. While we are look-
ing at the spreading hcrl^s beneath the trees, our road turns
again to pass around the hill.

So, it leads us on, with its promises of ever-new and cliann-
ing pictures. Its vistas, disclosed at ever>^ turn, are not
more satisfying than are its sweet miniatures, seen near at
hand. These are the ripe results of many years of nature's
handiwork. Every nook and comer is planted with verdure
of incomparable design.

This is not a road to race over, seeing nothing. No; it
must be travelled slowly, anrl a bit reverently, if one would

WINDING ROADS 319

see and know. Nature never rewards impatience. So may
we go serenely, expectantly, around the next bend. So may
we ever go when seeking the true pleasures of life.

And when a little winding road shall, some day, bring us
to the town where we must dwell, happy shall we be if the
simple elements of the wild roadside loveliness are cherished
there; if the plants by the way grow lush and fine; if the
roadside greenery drops dovm gently to the borders of the
street ; if the little side-paths lead into pleasant places, and the
shadows that lie across the grass seem to invite one to enter
and rest; if simny openings are filled with flowers, and
shadowy retreats, with soft filmy sprays of leaves; if bare
walls are banked with foliage, or festooned with the graceful
drapery of vines; thrice happy, if some of the little wild
things, nature's exquisite little tender things, planted and
cared for by the wayside in places suited to them, tell us we
have for neighbors some gentle souls who care for things as
God made them.

Study 48. A Winding Country Road

The program of work for this study will consist of a walk
along a short stretch of an old rural roadway, preferably
among wooded hills, seeking out the natural beauties of the
roadside. A road of long standing, little mowed or graded,
should be chosen. A map of the portion to be examined may
be provided.

Views, such as the following may be located :
An open vista along the roadway itself.
A forest aisle along the roadway itself.

3. An inviting side path or branch road.

4. A shadowy glade.

5. A distant display of tufted foliage on a steeply- rising
wooded slope.

320 NATURAL HISTORY oF Till- FARM

6. A near-by dis]:)Uiy of leaf -cover, of elegant design.

7 . A display of wild flowers.

The record of this study may consist of:

1. Tlie map above mentioned, with arrows marked upon
it indicating such views as above noted.

2. Brief descriptive list of them, statriig for cacli.

(a) What elements of the view most appeal to \-ou as
being beautiful.

(b) What kinds of wild things nature has chiefly used to
make it so.

"The little cares that fretted me,

I lost them yesterday
Among the fields above the sea

Among the winds at play
Among the lowing of the herds

The rustling of the trees
Among the singing of the 1 )irds,

The humming of the 1 »ees.

"The foolish fears of what may happen

I cast them all away
Among the clover-scented grass,

Among the new mown hay.
Among the husking of the com

Where drowsy poppies nod
Where ill thoughts die and gocKl are bom

Out in the fields with God.

— Elizabeth Harntt BrowninR

Individual Exercises for the Summer Term

Five studies follow, that, like those for the fall and spring
terms (pages 126 and 22S et seq.), are intended to be made
by the student working alone and at his own convenience.
Four of them call for weekly observations extending o\cv
the entire term; but these are such observations as can be
made on walks for health and pleasure with no great
expenditure of time.

Optional Study 11. A Grass Calendar

The great grass family is one with which we ought to be
acquainted, considering the importance of the role it plays.
It furnishes a principal part of the food supply of man and
beast. Of the thousands of species of grasses in the world,
we know a few as cereals (wheat, com, oats, barley, etc.), a
few as pasture grasses, a few as noxious weeds, and a few
as ornamental g?:asses.

There are other grasses, relatives of those we cultivate,
growing wild in every locality. There are grasses for every
situation, wet or dry, in sun or in shade; and they are of
great diversity of form and habit, and of great beauty and
interest.

The object of this study is to get on speaking temis with
a dozen or more of the local grasses, wild or cultivated, and
to observe their behavior through the summer season.
Growing patches of several kinds should be located near at
hand, where they may be visited at least once a week with-
out too great expenditure of time, and where they are most
likely to remain uncut. The list should include one or t^\o
of the thin straggling grasses that grow in the thickets, and
one or two of the annual species that grow as weeds in fields

1,22 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

and gardens; also, if convenient, one or two water-grasses,
such as cut-grass, rnanna-grass or reed. Weekly observa-
tions should be made through the term on the activities of
the whole plant — what it is doing in leaf or stem or flower or
fruit production; what it is doing below ground in the
\\ ay of production of stools or oflsets; when starting growi^h
or second growth; when distributing seeds, etc.

For record, these observations may be entered in the
columns of a cross-ruled table, the left-hand column being
reserved for the names of the grasses, and dates being written
at the top of the other columns in proper order. Names of
the grasses, if needed, will be supplied by the instructor
when a flowering or fruiting specimen is furnished for
identification. Following the name of each kind of grass,
there should be written, in the proper date cohunns, the
obser^'-ations made upon it. Footnotes may include any
obser\^ations for which there is not room in the table.

Optional Study 12. A Calendar of Summer Wild Flowers

This is a continuation, through the smnmer season, of the
observations on spring flowers, ovitlined in Optional Study 8
on page 229, and may follow the plan there outlined. For
the second table-heading, "Relation to leaf -unfolding,"
substitute: "Fonn and size of flower-cluster (diagram,
and give measurements)".

INDIVIDUAL EXERCISES FOR SUMMER TERM 323

Optional Study 13. A Calendar of Bird-nesting

Nothing is more delightful to observe than the skill with
v/hich birds hide £.nd build their nests. A few, like those of
the Baltimore oriole, are htmg out in plain view, but most of
them are so well hidden that we can find them only by most
careful and unobtrusive watcliing of the coming and going
of the parent birds.

This is a study for those who know how to find the nests,
and who know how to observe them without causing the
parent birds to desert them. It would better be under-
taken by those who have had some experience, for finding
the nests will require too much time on the part of a beginner.

For record, the observations on bird-nesting may be writ-
ten in the columns of a cross-ruled table, in which the first
column is reserved for bird names, and the other coltmins
are reserved each for the observations of one period, with the
date written at the top. After the name of each bird there
should be written, under proper date, a brief record of the
building operations in which the species is engaged, as
searching for sites, laying foundations, building walls, inter-
weaving moss or feathers, completing lining, etc. Also
subsequent nesting phenomena, such as: first egg, last
egg, hatching, feeding, leaving nest, etc. Ample footnotes
may contain data for which there is not room in the table.

Another form of calendar, that may oftentimes be pre-
ferable where one species of bird, favorable for obscr^'-ation,
is abtmdant, may be made up of the observations on pairs
of birds of a single species; the left-hand coliunn of the table
for record mil then be reserved for the location of the several
nests.

324

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Optional Study 14. Best Crops on the Farm

The object of this study is to eneourage personal observa-
tions on the growth of the products of the fields. A dozen
or more such cultivated crops as com, wheat, oats, hay,
clover, potatoes, millet, apples, buclavheat, turnips, etc., are
to be severally examined in all the fields of the fann, and the
best found are to be set dowTi for record in the columns of
a table of the fonn of that shown on pages 130 and 131,
having such headings as the following :

Name of crop.

Location (in what field or portion of same).

Kind of soil.

Preparation of soil (information may be obtained from
farm records).

Condition (of crop at the conclusion of this study).

Method of planting (if not obserA'cd, see farm records) .

Subsequent treatment (if not observed, see fann records).

Yield (actual or estimated; specify which).

LXDIVIDUAL EXERCISES FOR SUMMER TERM 325

Optional Study 15. A Com Record

Com is King !

This beautiful plant, that our forefathers, when thc}' first
came to America, found growing in little patches about the
camps of the red men, has become our great staple. The
following study of its natural history may be made in any
convenient cornfield. It calls for careftd obser\^ations at
least once a week (oftener in flowering time) on germination,
leaf -unfolding, stooling, prop-root fomiation, tasseling,
* 'shooting" of ears, responses to drouth, or to wind, ripening,
etc. ; in short, on all phases of the behavior of the plant.

The record may be in the form of a diary with weekly (or
more frequent) entries covering:

temperature, rainfall, windstorms,
and other relevant weather condi-
tions,
condition of soil as to tilth, weeds,

etc.
tillage.

average height at each date of record,
details of its development and be-
havior,
birds, animals, insects, ftmgi, etc.,
found causing injury.

Physical factors
of environment

2. Growth

3. Enemies

Outdoor Equipment

It is a part of the public duty of those who know the vaUie
of our natural endowment to protect and preserve some
portion of it wherever possible, and to put it to educational
use. We, as a people, have had the American soil in our
keeping for only a few generations; and yet we have well
nigh extinguished its native life over large areas. It is well
to have fields and stock-pens, for we must be fed and clothed:
but, it is well, also, to have something to show of the richness
and resourcefulness of nature, for we must be educated.

Coming generations will need the wild things. Without
seeing them, they will never understand the history of their
own country. They will never know what things confronted
their forefathers to baffle them : what things gave them succor
and enabled them to live here and establish a new nation.
They will want to know what the native life of their native
land was like.

There is plenty of wild life of many sorts in America still,
but it is getting farther and farther from the haunts of men
and lost to its former use. The attention of youth is occupied
more and more with artificialities. The wild places near at
hand are made unclean, and then are shunned. Our necessary
"improvements" are made with much unnecessary waste
and heedless despoiling of the beauties of nature.

This is largely due to ignorance. That anything wild is
worth saving has hardly occurred to the average citizen;
that anything wild may be saved without hindering improve-
ments is an idea foreign to his experience. For he has been
filled with zeal to make the w^orld over; to cut down all the
woods and drain all the bogs, and fill all the ravines with
rubbish; to reduce it all to a neat pattern of cement sidewalks,
encircling lawns and cabbage patches.

326

OUTDOOR EQUIPMENT 327

In the cities where the pressure for room has been greatest
and the destruction of native wild life completest, men have
cried out for nature and for green things growing, and parks
have been made. But the average park is a stretch of grass
to be kept off from, and the best of parks are good and whole-
some and inspiring and informing in proportion as they repro-
duce the wildwood.

So, before the last bits of wildwood near us have been
destroyed, it is time to think of preserving some of them for
the sake of those who shall come after us. This was not
necessary in the days of the pioneer, but with rising land
values and more intensive agriculture, the extermination of
the wild life is proceeding at an ever accelerating rate. The
rich life of the Illinois prairies is a memory. The streams in
all our settled parts* have been made barren and unclean.
The swamps — nature's own sanctuaries — are being drained.
In the better agricultural areas of America, we have almost
reached that day of desolation when the possession of a
natural grove, or of a wild-flower preserve, however small, is
enough to give a farm distinction — to mark it as a home of
culture.

Three things a naturalist should do for the public good.
He should endeavor: (1) to prevent unnecessary and ill-
considered destruction of natural beauty ever>^vhcre: (2)
to aid nature in the restoration of beauty to waste places:
(3) to make the bits of nature near at hand more serviceable
in the education of the public.

Saving the remnant. It will not do for those who best
know the esthetic and educational values of wild life to
merely sit back lamenting when its extinction is threatened.
When natural beauty spots are about to be ravai^ed and
stocked with artificial gewgaws; when the public roadsides
are to be shorn of their copses of flowering shrubbery,
only to be made into weed patches; when flower decked

328 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

ravines arc to be turiK'<l iiilo rat-hatcheries by fiUinj; them
with garbage and rubbish ; when sparkhng streams are to be
fouled with stinking slops and oils by the slovenliness of
some streamsidc factor}- ; when public groves are to be cleared
without any intelligent supervision, merely to provide work
for a public labor-gang in the slack season :- whenever
these or any other such things, as are occuring daily all over
the land, are about to be committed, it is the duty of the
naturalist to speak out in protest. He should endeavor to
enlist the enlightened public sentiment of his community,
to have the esthetic and educational values of such places
considered, ere they are destroyed. They are sure to be under-
valued because they have cost the public nothing. In this
they are like all true gifts of heaven.

In city communities, there are Audubon societies, and
wildflower preservation societies, and civic improvement
societies, and conser\^ation societies, etc., that include in
their membership the best brains and culture of the place;
and the aid of such organizations is easily enlisted in such a
cause. In any community there are those that love the beauty
and freshness of unspoiled nature, and who vaW gladly use
their influence toward saving something for future enjoy-
ment. The first thing to be done is to see that those admin-
istering the public works in question are informed of the
value of the wild things about to be destroyed. Often, it
is necessary that they be informed of the very existence of
such things. Next there is need of eternal vigilance.

Improving waste places. When necessary public works,
however destructive of natural scenery, have been completed,
then a little careful forethought for the use of the things ,
nature freely ofTers, will make the place beautiful again.
The naturalist should assist in planning their betterment.
He of all people, should know what things are most available,
and best suited to every use and situation.

OUTDOOR EQUIPMENT 329

Suppose a bridge is to be built. Everybody knows that
an old bridge, settled in the midst of clumps of greenery and
spanning a clear stream makes a beautiful picture. A new
bridge looks otherwise: it rises starkly from a sea of mud,
joins two new-born dump heaps. For, when a bridge is built,
usually just enough money is appropriated to do the necess-
ary excavating, to dispose of the dirt in the easiest way and
to put up the bridge itself: nothing is available for restoring
beauty to the place. What are the things needed for this?
Willows by the waterside : filmy pale green small-lea\'ed wild
willows, to nestle in soft masses by the abutments : elms and
sycamores to cover the rising slopes; or vines, if the dump be
of broken stone : swamp iris or water shamrock to cover the
bare mud— things that do not cost a cent for they may be
found in nature's wild nurseries ; things that will grow with-
out any coddling, that need only proper planting— in short
the things that grow wild in such places. These will restore
the beauty of the place in the minimum of time, and with
the least expense. In the course of years, nature, if not
prevented, will restore these things herself: but the effect
will be better, and the desired results will be attained much
more quickly for a little intelligent aid.

So, roadsides, that are considered "finished" when a
roadbed is secured, may be refurnished : level filled lands may
be made fresh green meadows, instead of being allowed to
become wildernesses of weeds : slopes disfigured with stumpage
may be reforested. It should be the privilege of the natural-
ist to enlist public spirited folk in the promotion of such bet-
terments. It will help the good name of his community.

The greater the number of people who can be got to
participate in this work, the better it will be established in
pubHc opinion: the more children helping, the better its
results will be insured against future vandalism. About
schools and colleges, things should be planted, not soldy

sae

NATURAL mS'IORV OF 'JI1J-: I'ARM

for oniamcnl, as at present, but for their educational use-
fulness as well.

Making natural reserves servicable. Education began
in "fresh air schools". Country folk ha\e always been wont
to meet in groves for pul)lic exercises. The fresh air and the
open sky, the majesty of the trees, and the freshness of the
unspoiled verdure have irresistibly drawn them out of doors.
With the revival of interest in field work, we are going out
doors in companies again and taking some of our work with
us.

It is not so easy now, as once it was, to find a spot prepared
by nature for a gathering place. The requisite conditions are
that all who come together shall be able to see and to hear
and to sit comfortably while listening or working. i\ grassy
bank under a tree, when dry enough, may meet these con-
ditions. For many years a few great trunks of fallen trees
in the Renwick woods at Ithaca served as meeting places
for classes in biological field work. But places better suited
to the needs of classes may easily be arranged in the woods.

For more continuous use as an outdoor class room, "The
Covert," at Ithaca was made. A natural hollow in the woods,
over-arched and shaded by trees, was fitted with seats of
fiat field-stones, arranged in semi-circles. Aisles were left
for passing and paths were made for entrance and exit. At
the center a massive table, with a vslate slab for a top, was
built of hollow tile and plastered. A door was set in the back
of its hohow base, and its interior is used for the storage of
grass mats, i)etween sessions. These mats are handed out
for use by classes when the stones are damp and c<jld.
** The Covert " is an excellent type of educational equip-
ment that can be made in any woods. It is very suljstantial
and permanent. It does not disfigure the woods (being hardly
discernible from a distance of a few rods in any direction)
and it is growing in beauty every year as its trees grow older,

OUTDOOR EQUIPMENT

331

its paths become better turfed, and its surrounding plant-
ings develop. It was made by a few weeks of labor on the part
of two students, and it cost less than ten dollars for materials.
Gathering places for larger numbers may be made on the
same general plan. The author once took a class in natural
history out to a small grove, and set the members studying
the trees and the slopes with a view to locating and arranging
therein, with the least possible distiurbance to the wild wood,
an outdoor auditorium for public addresses, concerts and
sylvan plays. The result is the simply arranged natural
amphitheater shown in fig. 140: ^ is the floor plan; B is

/////7M/,

Fig. 140. Diagram of an outdoor auditorium.

332 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

a verlicd scjtion, show-in^' a properties-room, P beneath
the stage, and a vestibule, V, for entrance from the rear;
and C is the end of a row of seats. In the floor plan 7, 7, T,
etc., indicate the trunks of high-crowned trees, left standing
to furnish shade. The artificialities of the plan are such only
as are necessary: comfortable seats, conveniently arranged,
and a good stage. These are made of cement on ribbed metal
lath, plastered on both sides and colored green or gray or
brown. The sylvan picture round about is carefully pre-
ser\^ed. The aisles are grass paths. Under the seats are beds
of violets. Greensward masks the stage and low evergreens
define front and rear stage entrances. A bank of tall ever-
greens furnishes a background at the rear of the stage. All
around are trees for shade. A rising turf covered bank at
the rear of the seats provides for overflow on great occasions,
the limit of capacity being set by a bank of evergreens fronted
with thorny barberry. Vines added for grace, and flowering
trees and shrubs for color are used to fill surrounding niches.
Thick walls of verdure round about exclude outside distrac-
tions. Grass paths of ample width, well defined by border
plantings, give easy access, and invite pedestrians to keep
off the other vegetation.

No community will long gather in such places without
coming to feel an interest in the wild things. By the posses-
sion and use of such outdoor places, the public may be
educated in the appreciation of nature.

Library
C. State College

INDEX

Page

Abundance i6

Abutilon i59. 259

Acquaintance 11

Acorns 29,30

Acorus 36,61

Acroneuria 42

Acronycta 269

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

Adirondacks 84

Adjustment 235, 293

Advertise 265

Aerial roots 13

Agassiz, Louis 14

Age of Chivalr}^ 108

Agricultural conditions 98

Agriculture 9. 104, 327

Ailanthus 224

Alders 292

Alexander, C. P 63

Alfalfa 240

Algae 35,36,192,307

Alcohol 13

Alum root 92

Amphicarpaea 62

Amphiagrion 42

Anax Junius 42

Ancestors 72

Anemonella 210

Anemones 208

Animals 36, 39, no, 258

Animals, farm 69, 274

Animal fibers 160

Animal husbandry 196

Anise 247

Annual plants 235

Anopheles 275

Aphids 268,270,271,304

Apios 60, 285,286,289

Apocynum (dogbane) 159

Appetite for blood 275

Apples 16, 17, 19 73 246

Apple blossoms 214

Apple-curculio 304

Apple leaf miner 304

Pack

Apple-maggot 305

Apple tree 153, 302

April 208

Aquatic insects , 39

Aquatic plants 308

Arboretum 45

Arborvitae 91

Arctium (burdock) 1 59

Aroids 61,63

Aromatic cedar 91

Aromatic herbs 243

Aromatic oils 249

Arrow arum 61

Arrowhead 62

Arrow-woods 143, I97

Arsenate of lead 269

Artichoke 60

Artistic standards 128

Asclepias (milkweed) 159

Asellus 38, 192

Ash 74, 129, 170

Asparagus 244

Asphalt pavement 33

Ass 109, no

Association 291 , 293

Asters 292,311,317

As You Like It 252

Attachment discs 287

Audubon societies 328

Augochlora 214

Auld Lang Syne 312

Autumn 66, 132

Autumn's Mirth 66

Autumnal Coloration, 132, 137,201

Avens 294

Azaleas I44

Back swimmer 39

Back to nature 1 1

Bacon 24

Bacteria, nitrogen gathering . 237

Badger 97

Bad taste 123

Bag 14

333

334

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Page

Balance 206

Balance of nature 198

Balaninus (acorn weevil) .... 27

Balm 247

Balsams 54. 9 »

Balsam-api)le 288

Barbi(lj,'e 247

Barberry 20, 167

Bark beetles 30

Bark-strings 155

Barnyard 117

Basil 247

Basket 14

Basket industry 143

Basses 47

Basswood 74, 129, 155, 253

Bathing places 313

Bats 99, 102

Beard, Dan 84

Beard-tongue 266

Bears 9,98, 182

Beasts of prey 97

Beauties of nature 32

Beaver 9, 96, 97, 150

Beech 72, 74. 129, 170,224

Beechnut 28

Beech nuts 25

Beech woods 129

Bee-fly 215

Beetle 2j, 181, 216, 305

Beetle lar\^aj 182

Beets 60

Bedstraws 293

Benacus 39

Bennett, William C 307

Bergamot 247

Berries 296

Berrj'-bearing shrubs . 17, 189, 201

Beverage 18

Binding-twine 156

Bindweeds 288

Bison 97, 98, 274, 312

Birch. .72, 77,, 74, 83, 129, 165, 317

Birch bark 178

Birch curl 83

Birds 19,22,24,

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

Bird's bath 313

Bird migration 67

Biting insects 269

Pagb

Bittersweet 71, 2M7, 288, 289

Black bass 46

Blacklicrried older 18, I46

Blackberry 18, 244, 297, 298

Black-flies

36, 37, 39. 4<^ 274, 275, 276

Black Maple 170

Black walnut 187

Blanket algie 36

Blanks f < )r record 13

Blcpharoccra 38

Blepharoccri<kc 40

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

Bloodsucking flies 279

Blueberries 17, 18, 144

Bluebird 220

Blue flag (iris) 293

Blue grass 55,258

Blue-green alga- 35

Blue myrtle 92

Bob-white 116, 117

Bone awl 157

Boneset 293,310

Borders 144

Borers 182,303

Bot-flies 275, 277, 278 279

Bounty of nature 10, 16

Box-elders 1 70

Bracken fern 163 292 299

Braiding 1 56

Brambles 145 186, 189, 296

Brasenia 35

Brer Rabbit 299

Bridge 318,329

Briers 188

Brier patch 299

Broad-leaved evergreens .... 92

Brook 307,310

Brook trout 192

Browsing 53, 54

Brown-tail moth 271

Brush 124, 143, 146

Brush fence 186

Brushwood 77

Br>'ant 143, 180, 193, 274

Brvozoans 3^

Buckeye 26, 28

Buckthorn 145

Buckwheat 68, 259,261

Buckwheat, climbing 289

INDEX

335

Page

Bud-moth caterpillars 304

Buffalo 9. 96

Buffalo-berries 16, 19, 144

Buffalo gnat 37, 276

Bugle-weed 309

Building- sites 191

Bull dogs Ill

Bullheads 47

Bulrushes 292, 293

Buprestidae 182

Burdock 159, 257, 262

Bums, Robert 24, 96, 312

Bur-weed 36

Burrow 150, 176

Burrowers 58

Burrowing bee 214

Burs 12

Bushes 197

Bush fruits 17, 22

Butter 24

Butter-and-eggs 266

Buttercup 55, 294

Butterflies 215

Butternut 25, 28, 74, 129, 170

Buttonbush 144, 269

Cabbages 54, 246

Cabbage-lice 270

Cabbage- worms 270

Caddis worms 37. 40» I93

Calamus root (sweet flag) ... 62

CalHbaetis 42

Calyx 19

Camomile 260

Campfire 83, 84

Campions 245, 264

Camp sites 83

Canada 168

Canoe 155

Can-opener 10

Caraway 247

Cardinal flowers 211, 294

Carnivores 39, 178, 181, 271

Carnivorous 41. 4^

Carpels 19

Carpenter worms 181

Carrots 59, 6o> 260, 266

Cascadilla 45

Castaillia 35

Cat 109, 153

Pagb

Catbird 3 )2

Catnip 246

Caterpillars 182. 304

Cat fishes 47, 48

Catnip 246. 247

Cattail 36, 62,292,293, 310

Cattle

32,47. 52, 55. 56, 109, 111,277

Cauliflower 246

Cavalier 108

Cayuga 113

Ceanothus 270

Cedar 91, 129

Cedar berries 22

Celastrus 288

Centaur 107

Centipedes 178, 181

Cereals 10, 32, 68, 127

Cerambycidae 182

Ceremonials 246

Ceratophyllum 35

Ceratopogon . 43

Cherries 16, 22, 187

Chestnut

24, 28, 30, 'J2i. 74, 129, 184

Chestnut Oak 28

Chestnut Wee\dl 27

Chickadees 153

Chickens 117, 118

Chicks 118

Chickweeds 55

Chicory 60

Chipmunk 100, 102

Chironomidae 40

Chironomus 43

Chipping sparrow 143

Chokecherries 20, 189, 317

Cinquefoil 317

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

Cladophora 34

Clearing n, 18, 143

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

Climate 9

Chmbers 30

Climbing apparatus 286

Climbing hemp 286

Cloth 157, 159

Clothes 10

Clothing 13

Cloven hoofs 53. loS

336

N^VrURAL HISTORY oF THE FARM

Pace

Clovers 56, 235, 237, 238. 239

Clover, white 238, 253

Clover, hop 240

Cock 118

Cocklebur 257, 258

Cockle mint 198, 199. 294

Cockroaches 181

Codling moth 17,22,304

Coleoptera 40, 1^2

Columbine 209

Columbus 244

Combustion 83

Community 122

Competition 25, 150, 265

Competitors 1 97, 233

Composites 3^0

Compost 175

Comstock, Mrs. J. H 172, 277

Confections 172

Coniferous 90

Conifers 86,91. 164

Conser\'ation soil ... .25, 175, 285

Consumers 39

Containers 13

Continuous occupancy 199

Control of animals 47 » 186

Cooking 81

Coolers 191

Copper 10

Coptotomus 39

Cordage 92, 156, 158, 161, 162

Core fruits 19

Corethra 43

Coriander 247

Corixa 39

Com 9. 186,234

Com weather 234

Comer grocery 265

Cor>-dalis comuta 39

Cor>-lus amcricanus 26

Cotton 159. 160

CottonwrK)d 160, 177

Country Pathway, A 296

Course in sprouts 1 44

Covert 330

Cow 53

CowsHps 292

Crab apple 20

Crab-grass 259

Cranberries 16, 17, 286

Page

Craneflies 40, 1 83

Crawfish 38,46,48,292,310

Creek 33

Creepers 35

Cresses 246, 292, 294

Crop plants 268

Crops 15,25, 121

Crop production . . 233

Crossl)ills 67

Crows 18,22, 151, 303, 317

Crucifers 246

Cmstaceans 38

Cuckoos 303

Cucurbits 286

Cudweed (everlasting) 299

Culicidic 40, 275

Cultivated fruits 18

Cultural varieties 47

Culture 25

Cup of hazel tea I44

Currants 16, 144

Curtis, Dorothy 46

Cut-grass 309

Cyanide bottle 217

Cyclopedias of Horticulture

and of Agriculture 14

Cyperaceae 68

Cypress 184

Daemon of the World 113

Daisy 55,259,264

Damsel-fly 40. 42

Dandelions 55, 257, 258, 259

David 52

Day in June, A 233

Deciduous shrubs 143

Deciduous trees 71

Decorative plantings 123

Deer 9,98,246,274

Deerflics 274

Deer mice 102, 152, 162

Delicacies 16

Dewberry 298

Diatoms 34. 36, 41

I Dill 247

I Diptcra 40. 43. 183,275

I Disciplinarians 143

I Dispersal 55. 66, 68, 133

j Diuretic 244

INDEX

3.^7

Page

Diving beetle 39

Division of labor 10

Dobson larva 39

Dobsons 40

Docks 59. 259

Dog 104, 105, III

Dogbane 1 59

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

Domesticated fowls 118

Domesticated mammals . . 104, in

Domestication 106, 1 10

Dominant forms 294

Doorweed (goosegrass) . .259, 261

Dove 302

Dragon-fly 40, 42

Dried berries 18

Drouth 310

Drupes 19

Ducks 113, 117

Dumping places 32

Dutchman's breeches 210

Dytiscus 39

Earthworms. ... 176, 178, 282, 309

Echinocystis 288

Eden 121, 22^']

Edible 59

Edible berries 144

Edible nuts 26

Education 12, 314, 326, 330

Eggs 118

Elateridae 182

Elder,

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

Elderberry 18, 20, 144

Elk 98

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

Elm bark 246

Elodea (Anacharis) 35

Engraver beetles 181, 1 82

Envelopes 14

Ephemerida 40

Epidermis 269

Esthetic values . 100, 195, 210, 219

Evergreens 90, 92

Evolution 99, 220, 265

Experience 11

Page

Faery Queen 77

Fagots •''^3,85

Fairyland 165, 167

Fairy tree 223

Fall planting 196

False wSolomon's seal 62

Famine 105

Farm 81, 104

Farm crops 233, 268, 324

Farmer 121, 126

Farm landscapes . . . . 121, 223, 316

Farm operations 126

Farm stream 32

Farm woodlot 77

Father Raffcix 113

Fathers of Old, Our 243

Fats 24

Fauna 47

Feeding shelf 1 53

Feet 52

Fences 33, 127, 186

Fencerowi7,25, 146, 186,189,292

Ferns 92,206

Fertilization 213

Fertilizers 237

Fiber products. .155, 158, 159, 160

Fields

Fightmg 42,47 59

Filberts 25 144

Fillers 292,298

Filtration plant 191

Finch 67

Fire 81, 82, 196, 212

Fire by friction ^^

Fireflies 181

Fire-making 83

First Spring Dav, the 168

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

Fish culture 47

Fish food 2)1

Fishing 32 , 46

Fishing lines 161

Flavor 16, 26, 68, 116

Flavoring of foods 247

Flax 1 59

Fleabane 294

Flesh 42

Flint TO

Floating liver\vort 36

Floating riverweed 35

33«

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Pace

Flocks 96

Flood 34.35

Flood plain 310

Flowering dogwood . . 129, 196,225

Flowers _ 264

Flower visiting insects 214

Fly-brushes 278

Flylarvx 183

Flv repellants 274

Fly time 274,278

Fo'liage 210

Food 32, 46

Food habits 41

Food rescn-e 170, 233

Food stick 153

Footprints 150

Forage 47. i^9

Forage crops 127

Foragers 67

Forefathers 168

Forest 77, 180, 193

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

Fountains, the 143

Fowl meadow-grass 309,310

Fowls 106, 113

Foxes 98.99

Fragrance 16, 144, 201

Freezing 34

Fresh air schools 330

Frogs 38

Frontal sinus 277

Frosts 17, 24, 30

Fruit 9, 16, 17, 127

Fruit, poisonous 243

Fruit fly 17

Fmit trees 17. 123

Fuel values 84

Fuel woods.. 81, 86

Fungus gnats 181, 183

Fur bearers . . 97

Furs 96, 97

Fur trade 9^^

Galls 304

(iame 9, 46, 48, 96, 1 13

Oammarus 38

Garden 9

Gaiden of scented herbs 249

Gardener 289

Garter snake 316

Page

Geese 1 13, 115, 117

General Biology 271

Gentians 292, 294

Gerard 245, 248

Gerardias 264

Giant water-bug 39

Gills 40,41

Ginger 247

Glow-wo<rms 1 83

Goat 52, 109

Goldenrod,

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

Good farming 121

Gooscberrv i^, 144. 298

Gophers 98, 99. 3^6

Goths 42

Gourds 285

Graces of form and color. ... 121

Grains 68

Grallatoriall)irds 117

Grandmothers 247

Gramineae 68

Grass 42, 52,

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

Grapes 16, 285, 287

Grape vines 170, 285

Gravelly beds 41

Gravity 33, 137, 178

Grazing 18,196,212

Grazing animals 52

Great ])ullrush 36

Great Spirit 9» 1 72

Greeks 108

Green, Darius 219

Green alga> 34

Greenbrier 298

Green things gro^^'ing. . . . 195, 327

Ground beetles 178, 181

Ground cherries 17

Ground cover 92, 176

Groundfloor 257

Ground nut 60

Groundwater 191

Grouse 113, 116, 151,316

Grove 327

Guinea fowl 117

GuUies 33

Habitat 4'

Hackbern' 20

INDEX

339

Page

Halictus 215

Hallowe'en 24

Hammock nest 158

Handbookof Nature-Study 14, 172
Handbook of North American

Indians 163

Hard woods 82

Harris, Joel Chandler 299

Hawk 118

Hawkweed 257

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

Hay-rope I55

Hazel 25, 144, 292

Hazelnut 26, 28

Headlands 32

Helianthus (sunflower) ... .60, 159

HeUgrammite 39

Hemiptera 40

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

Hemp 159

Hen 116, 118

Hepatica 208 209, 210

Herbage 52, 70, 225

Herbage scents 247

Herbals 244, 245

Herbivores 39,41,42, 181

Herds 96, 121

Hiawatha's Childliood 150

Hiawatha's Sailing 155

Hibernation 66, 150

Hibiscus I55» I59> 211

Hickory 24, 25,

26, 73, 74, 76, 84, 85, 129, 224

Highway 32

Hobble-bush I45

Hodge, F. W 163

Hog-peanut 62

Hogs 24, 47, 109, 274, 312

Holdfasts 287

Holland,!. G 71

Homes 10

Home sites 191, 302

Homesteads 123, 124

Honey 238,253

Honey-bee 213, 215

Honeysuckles . . 145, 158, 286, 289

Hoofed mammals 97^^77

Hoofs 53,54

Hooks 30

Hop clovers 240

Pack

Hops 285 288

Horehound. ... ... 247

Hornbeam 2,-, 129

Horse . 106, 107, 108, 1 10, 1 1 1, 277

Horse chestnut 26

Horse flies,

39,40,275, 276, 277,278

Horsefly larva? 193

Horsehairs 156

Horse power 108

Horse radish 246

House-flics 216. 278

Householder 195

Howard, Ethel Barstow 223

Human industr}' 121

Humus 177, 178

Hunt, Leigh 191

Hunter 59. 97. 105

Himting dogs in

Huntsmen 113

Husbandman 105

Husbandry 10

Hybrid no

Ice-coat 164

Improvements 123, 326

Improved varieties 25

Indians,
9, 10, 18, 24, 96, 97, 156, 168, 172

Indian cucumber- root 61

Indian hemp 159

Injurious insects 303

Insecticide 270

Insect larv^ae 38

Insects 38.303

Instincts 279

Invention of spinning 1 56

Invocation to rain 307

Iris 2^},, 329

Iroquois 16

Jack-in-thc-pulpit 61, 209

Jam 18

Javs 303

Jellies 18

Jewel-weed 69, 293

Jimson-weed 259

Job 205

Joel .... 268

Joe-pye-weed . 293, 310

34C

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE F.VRM

Page

fudas tree 22 >,

fuice i^

[uncus 54.-9-

[unebcrn- i^, 197

[unipers 91

fute 159

Kale 246

Kerosene emulsion 270

Kerrias 144

Kindling material 83

Kipling 243

Knife 13

Knots 85

Labels 14

Lace wing fly 270, 271

Lace workers 289

Ladybird 271

Lady bird beetle larva 270

Lady's slippers 2 1 1

Lamb's quarters 259

Lampvridc-e 183

Land fowl 113

Landscape 12, 122, 124

Lanier, Sidney 186, 237

Larch roots 155

Larcom, Lucy I21

Lar\'ae 30

Lavender 247, 249

Lawn 146

Lead acetate 13

Leaf fall I34

Leaf hoppers 305

Leaf miners 268

Leaf mold 177

Leaf mosaics 287

Leaf skeletonizcrs 269

Leatherwood 155

Leeches 38

Leersia (cut grass) 309

Legumes 63

Leguminosai 68

Lemon verbena 247

Lens 13

Lentils 68

Leptidne 40, 183

Lepidoptcra 40, 182

Lettuce 244

Life of Inland Waters 14

Pack

Lightning 81

LilifS 211

Limnca 38

Lincoln, Abraham 187

Linen 1 60

Linden 26, 2H, 73, 76, 162, 253

Linden buds 246

Literature 107

Livestock 37, 110, 127

Lloyd, J. T 14

Lobelia 200, 292, 294, 309

Logs 32, 180

Lombardv ix)plar 73

Longfellow 150, 155

Loniccra 145

Loom 157

Loosestrife 294

Loss of blood 279

Lotus 26

Lowell 158

Lynxes 98

Maize 10

Magnolias 253

Mallow 259

Mallow cheeses 246

Mallow, round leaved 245

Mammals 58, no, 303

Mandrakes 16. 209

Manna grass 293

Manual of Botany, Gray's. . . 14
Manual for the wStudy of In-
sects, Comstock's 14.277

Manual of the Vertebrates,

Jordan's 14

Maple 74, 129. 168,253,317

Maples, soft 253

Maple sap 168

Maple sugar 168

Maple wax 17 ^

Marlatt, C. L 270

Marmion 9^

Marshes 98

Marsh ferns 292, 310

Marshmallows 159. 294

xMarsh marigolds 208, 21 1

Marsupi-d 99

Mas(m, OtisT 156

Mav apples 244

Mayflies 40. 42, 48

INDEX

341

Page

Ma^^fly nymphs 42, 193

Meadow 32, 98, 188, 329

Meadowmice 102, 292, 311

Meadow rue 209, 294

Meadowsweet 266, 292

Meat supply 109

Medeola 61

Medicago 239

Medicines 244

Medicinal properties 68

Medics 240

Melilotus 239

Menispermum 288

Mental characteristics no

Micah 285

Mice 153, 187

Midge lar\^as 193

Midges 40, 42, 43, 48

Midges, net veined 38, 40

Mikania 286

Milk no

Milkweed 160, 161

Millepedes 181, 282

Mine Host 302

Mink 97, 102,312

Minnows 48

Mint 247,248

Mississippi Valley. 71

Mixed crops 175

Modem learning 100

Moisture loving 282

Molds 178

Mole 99. 102

Molluscs 38, 192

Monkey flowers 294

Moonseed 288

Moore, Emmeline 34

Moose 98

Moosewood 144

Morning Glory .258, 259, 286, 318

Mosquito 39, 40, 193, 274, 275

Mosquito, To a 275

Mosses 35.92

Mosspink 92,209,210

Mother earth 9, 10

Mountain ash 19, 20, 167

Mountain laurel 92

Mountain sheep 98

Mouse, To a 96

Pace

Mouse-ear 317

Moving water 33, 137, 282

Alowing 18, 196

IVIud 33

Mulberries 16

Mule no

Mullein 55, 259, 262

Muloch, Dinah M 195

Muscid flies 40

Muscoidea 40

Mushrooms 282

Musk-mallow 247

Aluskrat 97, 152

Mussel 38

Mustard 246, 259

Mutual benefit 278

Mutual helpfulness 299

Mutual pleasure 107

Muzzles 53

MycetophiUdae 183

Myriophyllum 35

Nannyberry 19, 20, 144

Narcissus 234

Narcotic 26

Natural balance 308

Natural pruning 166

Natural selection 54

Natural social functions 39

Native crops 9

Native mammals 97

Nature 1 1

Nature's" method 176, 198

Nature's nursery 198

Nature worship 172

Nectar 214,238

Nesbit, Wilbur D 316

Nesting boxes 221

Nesting sites 22

Nets 217

Nettle 159. 246

Net veined midges 38, 4^

Neuroptera 40

New England 187

New Jersey 145

New York' 187

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

North woods 274

Notebook 13

Noteworthy trees 128

342

NATUR.\L IIISTURV OF THE FARM

Page

Notonecta 39

Xovelties 123

November 66

Xoyes, Alice A 37

Nursery 195, 1 98

Nursery row 197

Nuts '4. 30

Nut bearing trees 25

Nut hatches 153

Nut wee\nls 26

Nymphrca 35

Nymphs 40

Oak,

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

" black

" family

" red 28, 74,

" white

" woods

Oats

Odonata

CEstridx

< )ffsets 199,

(^ils 68,

Oncopeltus

Onion 59, 234,

Opossum

Orchard 121,

Orioles 19, 158,

Oriole's nest

Orl flies

Orl-fly larva

Orris-root

Osier dogwoods 144,

Otters

Outdoor auditorium

Out-of-doors

Outlook 9,

Ox warbles

Ox yoke

Oxybaphus

Oxygen

Oyster shell scales

318
253

25
253

74
129

234
40

277
234
249
269

244

213

161

157
40

39
247
167
312

331
90
124
106

277
106

258

304

Packages 24

Panicled dog^vood 144

Panicled white aster 200

Panicularia 293, 309

Pack

Parasites 39, 181, 271

Parasitic plants 39

Paris green 269

Park 2>2j

Parsley 248

Parsnips 59» 60

Partridge berry 92

Pastures 9, 52, 90

Pasture plants 52, 53, .260

Patrimony 67

Pawpaw 155

Pea-fowl 117

Pearl acliille 200

Peas 195

Pecan 25, 26

Peck, Samuel M 66

Peltries 96

Pennyroyal 247, 248

Pentstemon 266

Peony 33

Peppergrass 246

Peppermint 247 309

Peppers 246

Perches 48

Perennials 53, 234, 293

Permanent crops 262

Persimmons 16, 17

Personal initiative 126

Pests 37

Pets 105

Phantom midge larv^a 43

Philotria (Elodea) 35

Physostegia 199

Pickerel 48

Pigeons 113, 114, 117

Pigs 58, io8,|iii

Pig-nut hickor>' 25, 28

Pig-weed 259

Pikes 48

Pillbugs 282

Pines 78, 90, 1 84, 205

Pine knots 83,86

Pine stumps 90

Pine woods 129

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

Pistil case bearer 304

Pitchforks 257, 308

Pitch pine 90

Planarians 193

Planorbis 38

INDEX

343

Page

Plantains 55, 259

Plant bugs 305

Plant fibers i6o

Planting time 195, 260

Plants 52

Plastering fibers 161

Playful capers no

Pleasures of the palate 245

Plecoptera 40

Pliny 248

Plow 32,106

Plum 16, 19

Plum curculio 17, 22

Pockets 13

Poets 72

Poison 217,269

Poison ivy ,

13, 22, 152, 189, 246, 287

Pole beans 285

Pollen 213,294

Pollen distribution 253

Pollen distributors 216

Polygonaceas 68

Pomes 19

Pomology 19

Pools 41

Poplar 184

Population 67, 182, 192

Porcupines 67, 154, 169

Pork 109

Porzana 1 1 7

Potamogeton 34, 35

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

Potato beetles 268

Pot hunter 1 1 5

Poultry 127

Poultry husbandry 118

Power of flight 220

Powers, Horatio H 213

Prairie hen 116

Prairies 71, 114,327

Prepared bird skins 221

Prickly ash 144, 145

Primitive folk 244

Primitive language no

Products 10, II

Prong horn 98

Propagating 18

Propagation 200

Proteins 24

Page

Provisions 58

Prunes 244

Pruning 167

Psalm 52

Psephenus 3^

Pulp 19

Pulse family 68

Pumas 9^

Puncturing 269

Punkies 43, 274, 278

Pure cultures 47

Puritan 66

Purselane 259

Pyrochroidae 183

Quadrupeds 68, 97

Quail 113

Quick growing crops 24

Rabbits 98. 150,

153, 1&7, 188,292,299,316

Rabbit's foot clover 240

Raccoon 97, 98, 100, 102, 182

Radishes 60, 195, 246

Ragweeds 262

Rail fence 188

Rails 113

Rail splitter 187, 188

Railroads 32

Rain 33, 281

Rainv season 276

Rapids 33, 34, 35. 36, 41

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

Rat hatcheries 328

Rattans 286

Recognition characters . 40, 41 , 1 83

Red cedar 9'

Red deer 98

Redman 10, 11,61,62,96. 143

Red milk-weed bug 269

Red Jacket 9

Red osier dogwood 146

Red squirrel 102

Reference books I4

Refrigerators 19I

Reindeer ^ 50

Reservations 97, 212

Resins 82

Resources ^2

Reynolds, Sir Joshua 124

344

NATUR.VL HISTORY OF THE FARM

Page

Ricciocarpus 36

Rich weed 328

Riffle-beetle 38

Riley, James Whitcomh. . .46, 2t>6

Rill 3,3, 3^»

River weed 34

Roads 127, 146

Roads, The Winding 316

Robbing tlie woods 211

RolKTts.G. D 165

Robin . . 19, 162, 16H, 2 19, 302, 309

Rock bass 48

Rodents 24

Root crops 63, 127

Rooters 58

Roots 34. 59

Roses 286, 3 1 7

Roses, climbing 289

Rose geraniums 247

Rosemar}' 247

Rossetti.'Christina C 168

Rotted logs 86

Rubbing sticks 81,88

Rubus 296

Ruffed grouse 116

Rule, metric-English 13

Rules for planting 200

Running water 282

Rye 235

Sage 247, 248

Saint John's wort 264, 294

St. Lawrence 168

Salamander 38, 178, 181, 192

Samoa 155

Sand 33

Sap flow 169, 171, 303

Sap-pits 169, 303

Sap spouts 143, 171

Sapsuckers 86, 169, 303

Sassafras 76, 85, 186, 189

Savage 81,83, i^7

Savory herbs 246

Scale insects 268,269,304

Scaraba-idc-e 183

Scavengers 39

Scent bags 249

Scirpus 36, 293

Scolytidee 182

Pack

Scott, Walter 90

''^cuds 38 42, 192

Seasons 16, 233

Sedges 68, 206, 292, 30*;. 310

Seeds 10, 52, 197

Seed crop ' . 66

Seedlings 196

Seed ripening 133

Seine 48

Selection 16, 25, 47, 54

Self-fertilizing flowers 62

vSelf-inflicted vandalism 262

Selkirk, James Brown 281

Semi-aquatics 308

Seneca "114

Senses 76

Sensitive fern 292

vSensitive Plant, the 164

Sepedon 43

vSerial observations 126

Seton, Ernest Thompson .... 116

Se^^^ng needle 157

Se^^'ing threads 1 56

Sexes in domestication 106

Shadbush 195

Shakespeare 252

Shaler 100, 104

Sheep 52, 108, III

Sheep raising 108

Sheepshcad 48

Shelll)ark hickory 28

Shelley 113, 164

Shell fish 46

SheUs 26

Shelter 22, 48

Shepherd dogs in

SphcTrium 192

Shoals 41.48

Shortcomings no

Shorthorns 47

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

Shrubs y-j, 143, 204, 225, 262

Sialis 39

vSigns 1 50

Silk 161

Silver Show 165

Simuliidaj 40, 276

Simulium 276

Size 18

Skilful rider 107

INDEX

345

Page

Sking 9, 97

SkuUcap 293,309

Skunk 97,98, 102, 151

Skunk cabbage 61

Skylines 122

Slaughter 99

vSlime-molds 282

^*^lugs 282

Small fruits lo

vSmith, Albert W 58

Smith, Miss Cora A 275

vSnails 178

Snipe 113

Snipefly 40

Snipe-fly larwne 1 83

Snowberry 144

Snowbirds 151

Snow Bound 81

Snowdrops 195

Snow Coat of the trees 167

Social habits 10

Soft drink 169

Soft maple 73

Soil

9, 127

Soil conser\'ing 175

Soil management 176

Soil mixing 175

Soil moisture 292

vSolaniuns 63, 270

Soldier fly '. 40

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

Sora rail 117

Sorrels 246

Sow bugs 181

Spanish moss 161

Spanish needles 293, 308

Spanish proverb 257

Sparganium 36

Sparrows 153, 302

Spatterdock 35, 62

Spearmint 247', 309

Speckled alder 225

Speedwells 55

Spenser 77

Spice bush 20, 143, 144

Spiders 178

Spindle and loom 157

Spinning 155, 156, 160, 161

Spiraeas 144

Splinter 83

Pacb

Sponges 38

Spreading dogwood 167

Springs 9, 32, 71. 168, 191

Spring brook 191

Spring flowers 208, 264

Spring house 191

Spring pole and snare loi

Spruce 90, 167, 224, 234

SP^^ge 259

Squash jq

Squirrels 24,99, 150, 169,317

Squirrel com 206, 209, 234

Stable-flies 278

Stagnant 41

Stamp weed 159

Staple crops 46, 233, 324

Steel '. . 10

Stem borers 268

Still waters 41

Sting 215

Stockades 186

Stock pens 71, 186,210

Stone fence 187

Stonefly 40. 42

Stone fruits 19

Storehouse 32

Strainers 37

Stratification of crowns 78

Stratiomj-iidas 40

Strawberries 16, 17, 244

Stream 32, 33, 39, 42, 46

Stream map, a 45

String 155, 156

Strip of Blue, a 121

Struggle for existence,

II. 197. 198,205

Stuffing fibers 161

Stump fence 187

Stupidity 262

Subcutaneous muscles 278

Submerged meadows 33

Succession of bloom 20 1

Sucker 48, 49

Sugar beets 172

Sugar bush 171

Sugar camp 172

Sugarcane 172

Sugarindustry 168

Sugar maple 73- 170, 224

Sugar of lead 13

346

NATURAL HISTORY OF THK FARM

Page

Sugar trees I43

Sumac 18, 143,

144, 165, 167, 188,224

Summer savor\' 247

Sun and shade 17. 200, 206

Sunfishcs 47

Sunflowers 60,264

Swale 116.291.292,310

Swale fly 43

Swamps 98. 327

Swamp azalea 1 44

Swamp lilies 294

Swamp milkweed ... I59. 293, 310

Swans 113. 115

vSweet birch 76, 116

Sweetbrier 247

Sweet clovers 240

Sweet fern 201 , 247, 250

Sweet flag 61,247,293

Sweet majoram 247

Sweet pea 286

Swimming 312

Swimming holes 312

Switches 143

Sycamore 72, 74. 129, 253» 329

Svlvan picture 332

Sympathy no

Svrphida? 40

S'yrphusfly 40,215,270,272

Tabanidaj 40»

Tabb, John B

Table fishes

Tadpoles 38,

Tamarack I55.

Tame animals

Tannin

Tapping

Taro

Tea

Teasel 55.

Telephone

Tendrils

Tennyson

Tent caterpillar

Textiles 96

Textile art

Textile products

Thanksgiving

Thickets

277
174

47
307
224
100
177
171

61
248

317

82
287
220

304
160

157

159

Page

Thistle 55. 160, 257, 259

Thompson, Maurice 291

Thorns 12

Thrush 3'^2

Thvme 247,248

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

Timber 9.32

Timber crops 127

Timothv 55

Tipulida; 40. 183

Top fire 84

Topography 15. 138

Tools 9. 13.30, 86

Touch-me-not 69

Tow 159. i^^i

Tracks 151.309

Traditions 10, 68, 244

Tragedy 150

Trained horse 107

Trampling 54, I97

Transportation 32, 53, 212

Trapping 100

Traps 48

Treadmill 106

Tree forms 72

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

Tree saps 170

Tabanidae 40

Trifolium 240.253

Trilhum 206, 208, 209

Trouts 48

Trumpet vine 286,287

Tubers 60

Tubifex I93

TuUp tree 74. 7^, 129. 253

Turf 53

Turkey 114. ii7

Turkey gnats 37

Turnips 60

Turnspit 106

Turtle 38

Turtlehcads 264, 266, 309

Tussock sedges 292, 309

Tuttlc, OHve N 238

Twig pruners 30

Twiners 287,288

Twines 156

Typha 36

INDEX

347

Page

Umbelworts 247

Uncle Remus 299

Undergrowth 206

Upholstering fibers 161

Urtica 159

Useful birds 19

Valerian 246

Vandals 42

Varieties 18

Vegetable flavorings. ....... 246

Vegetation 38

Vegetative offshoots 294

Vemiin 187

Vertigo 277

Virbumum. 19, 143, 144

Views of the farm 128

Vigilance 99

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

Vineyards 285

Violet 208, 209, 210, 332

Virginia creeper 286,287,317

Virgin's bower 286, 318

Vistas 124

Voices no

Walking-sticks 143

Walnut 24, 25, 26, 76, 187

Wanton slaughter 97

War 108

Washington, George 128

Washington Elm 128

Wasteland 11, 291

Water beetles 40

Water boatman 39

Water bugs 40

Watercress 192

Waterfalls 36

Waterfowl 113, 115, 117

Water garden 47

Water hemlock 60

Water horn wort 35

Water milfoil 35

Water mint 249, 309

Water moths 40

Water shamrock 329

Water shield 35

Water skaters 307

Water world 39i 46

Page

Waxwings 19, 22

Weapon 10, 71

Weasels 98, 102

Weather 12, 13

Weeds 53, 146, 157, 262,296

Westwood, Thomas 302

Whirling bob 157

White birch 72, 223

White clover 55, 238

White grubs 181, 183

White man 9.97

White Oak 28,225

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

White water lily 35

Whitman, Walt 175

Whittier, J. G 81

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

Wild apples 17

Wild beasts 186

Wild boar no

Wild carrot 167

Wild Cherry 20

Wild choke-cherry 19

Wild currant . . . '. 1 84

Wild ducks 115

Wild fishes 47

Wild flower presen-e 327

Wild fowls 1 13, 1 15, 1 17

Wild fruits 16, 17, 20, 22

Wild ginger 209, 210

Wild grape 20, 189, 286, 287

Wild Hfe 326

Wild mammals 96, 100

Wild nuts 24, 29

Wild perennials 200

Wild pigeon 1 13, 1 14

Wild rice 6S, 113

Wild roots 59

Wild rose i44» 299

Wild strawberry 92

Wild things 11,12, 300,319

Wild turkey 115

Wildwoodio, 16, 122, 195, 201,327

WilHs, Nathaniel Parker 208

Willow,

73, 165, 184, 22^, 2^2, 329

Willow herb 308

Willow rods I43

Wind *. 24

Winding roads 3^6

348

NATUR.\L HISTORY OF THE FARM

Page

Window garden 247

Wind sown seed 1 84

Wine 285

Winter 71

Winter activities 150

Winterbcrr>' 144

Winter colors 201

Winter conditions 132

Winter feeding 153

Wintergreen 92, 247

Winter verdure 90

Wire rack 87

Wire rush 54

Wire worms 181,182

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

Wolverine 97

Wolves 98

Womankind 81

Wood 52, 144

Woodbine 13. 189, 286

Wood borers 181

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

Pagb

Woodcock 113

Woodcraft 9. 151

Wood crop 211

Wood grasses 206

Woodlands 121

Wood lot 77, |86, 123,211

Woodpeckers 153, 182, 302

Woodsmen 71, 84, 151

Woody climbers 287

Wool 108, 160

Wordsworth, William .... 123, 264

Worms 26

Wormseed 259

Wrens 302

Yarrow 55.259

Yellow birch 83, 84, 86, 184

Yew 91

Yewberry 20

Yucca 156,157

Zoological parks 98

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