262 



THE GUIDE TO NATURE 



befuddle the brain nor tend to increase 

 the drinker's adipose tissue. 



So, my friends, here's "looking at 

 you-" Take any of these and you will 

 be on the safe side. Drinking" is a 

 pleasure and a necessity. Be thankful 

 that you live in New England where 

 you do not have to drink water from 

 a dirty river as do the people of so 

 many towns. Not until one has 

 traveled through the West and South 

 does there come an adequate feeling 

 of gratitude for the clear, delicious, 

 sparkling water of New England. I 

 wonder why a saloon can exist in New 

 England when these temperance 

 drinks are so plentiful and wholesome. 

 I am glad for more reasons than one 

 that I am a New Englander and espe- 

 cially glad that I live not far from 

 New Canaan. 



Sea Food is Good. 



Most people admit that sea food is 

 good but there are few restaurants 

 supplying such food extensively and 

 there are fewer supplying it exclusively 

 every day in the week. Even New 

 York City has had but few such res- 

 taurants, and those were as a rule 

 down town. 



Recently an ideal, moderate priced, 

 sea food restaurant has been estab- 

 lished at 305 Fourth Avenue (for- 

 merly Horton's near Twenty-third 

 Street) where one can get good qual- 

 ity sea food properly cooked. 



Just think of this, and then go try it. 

 Clam chowder, an entire lobster, 

 dessert and drink all for forty cents. 

 For only ten cents additional, one may 

 also have raw oysters or clams. In- 

 stead of the lobster there is a wide 

 choice of other delicious sea foods. 

 Who says that the cost of living is 

 high when such a menu is obtainable 

 for forty cents? 



This is not an advertisement, but 

 simply a merited word of appreciation. 

 The managers of the restaurant will 

 have their first knowledge of this 

 notice when they read it in this print. 

 We commend them for their enter- 

 prise, and advise our readers to visit 

 this popular restaurant the next time 

 they go to New York. The sign is 

 "Reynolds' Campus." It is two doors 

 north of Twenty-third Street on 

 Fourth Avenue (east side). 



Training for the Hands. 



Again and again we have emphasiz- 

 ed the fact that it is more important to 

 do things efficiently than to say things 

 correctly. It is right to talk about na- 

 ture and to express enthusiasm for na- 

 ture, but any one that can take tools 

 and show his dominion over physical 

 nature by making something really 

 worth while has achieved an admirable 

 position in physical nature study. 



The manual training benches sup- 

 plied with first-class tools and put in 

 the market for many years by Ham- 

 macher, Schlemmer & Company ot 

 New York City are an admirable pres- 

 ent for any boy or girl, man or woman. 



The latest issue of "The Fauna of 

 New England" published by the Bos- 

 ton Society of Natural History, num- 

 ber twelve of the series, is devoted to 

 the jellyfishes. About one hundred 

 species are listed. Earlier numbers of 

 the set include mammals, birds, rep- 

 tiles, batrachians, echinoderms, crus- 

 tacians, and ants. 



The American Genetic Association 

 offers two prizes of $100 each for 

 photographs of wild, native trees. One 

 of these is for the largest nut-bearing 

 tree — chestnut, oak, butternut and the 

 like. The other is for any shade or 

 forest tree not a conifer or nut-bearing. 

 The final object is to secure seed for 

 propagation. Full details of the con- 

 test are given in the Journal of Hered- 

 ity for October, 191 4. 



^November. 



Ten thousand leaves 



From swaying trees, 

 Aloft they float on morning's breeze ; 



The last of greenish velvet's lost, 



On Autumn's tongue of hoary frost; 

 The woodland giants' arms are bare, — 

 Their dresses tossed to shiv'ring hare ; — 



Round rural hut, 



Drops hick'rynut, 

 And nervous turkeys gaily strut. 



— Robert Sparks Walker. 



December. 



North-winds that press 

 Without redress, 

 Ling'ring woods into nakedness. 



Have blown songbirds to distant sky — 

 The hoary year begins to die ! — 

 And snowbirds herald ice and snow, 

 The brooklet's face is all aglow ; 

 In grief they wear an icy tear, 

 For t'sighing-dying-dead old year. 



— Robert Sparks Walker. 



