EDITORIAL AND GENERAL 



373 



not interested in the subject. 



The moral is evident. The moment 

 you cease to be a missionary in your 

 profession or in your religion, you be- 

 come a derelict, and the only proper 

 treatment for you is the treatment that 

 the Government administers to the 

 derelicts that infest the marine high- 

 ways ; it blows them up. Many a time 

 in my quarter of a century of nature 

 journalism, I have seen some one who 

 thought he had become so proficient 

 that he wanted to do profound re- 

 search work for his own benefit, and 

 therefore ceased to take time to help 

 others. That indicates the beginning 

 of dry rot and the victim soon dies, or 

 becomes an obstruction to navigation. 



I know a young man who, while he 

 was in the high school, was vexed be- 

 cause he could not get all of his asso- 

 ciates interested in nature. He travel- 

 led far and near, he searched diligently, 

 he showed his friends and neighbors 

 his collections, he occasionally in- 

 dulged in the ecstasies of a new dis- 

 covery, and then he settled down to 

 what he regarded as serious scientific 

 work. He had become a scientist and 

 not a popularizer of science. And now, 

 alas, his scientific interest and enthu- 

 siasm are rapidly waning. 



The true naturalist is always glad to 

 be a missionary when conditions serve. 

 The only way that we can get is to 

 give. The only way to live is to love. 



Pause for a moment and, after a lit- 

 tle introspection, decide whether you 

 are growing into a greater life or not, 

 or whether you are on your way to 

 sure death or not. Some people walk 

 about in a sprightly way, they eat, they 

 sleep, they speak, but they died long 

 ago and do not know it. May the 

 Lord deliver me from ever being a 

 derelict. "There's that door bell." "A 

 boy would like to see you." "I will 

 bring him in and show him my fish 

 hatchery. It may make an ichthyolo- 

 gist of him, or perhaps a fisherman or 

 a fish peddler!" 



The web on the leaves the spider wea\es 

 Is like the charm hope hangs o'er men 



Tho' oft she sees it torn by the breeze 

 She spins the bright tissue again. 



A Source of Satisfaction. 



I am glad that I am a Connecticut 

 Yankee. I am glad that I live in Con- 

 necticut. This bit of enthusiastic hap- 

 piness is not belittling to the other fel- 

 low whose parents decided to start him 

 in some other part of the United 

 States. No more picturesque hills, val- 

 leys, ravines, waterfalls, fields, forests, 

 can be found in all the world than in 

 Connecticut. It seems to me the very 

 best territory in which to live the life 

 of a naturalist. But to apprehend and 

 to enjoy the varying aspects of beau- 

 tiful nature in various parts of the 

 state, one must travel to those parts, 

 and here enters another one of the joys 

 of living in Connecticut. There is no 

 part of the United States with better 

 transportation facilities than those fur- 

 nished by the New York, New Haven 

 and Hartford Railroad Company. I 

 have travelled in every part of the Uni- 

 ted States and I speak from experience. 

 The New York, New Haven and Hart- 

 ford Railroad has facilities that remind 

 me of the bounties of nature. They 

 are so good, they seem so perfectly nat- 

 ural and we are so accustomed to them 

 that we accept them as a matter of 

 course, and seldom even mention them. 

 Every one that lives in Connecticut 

 takes it for granted that we have the 

 most beautiful state, and the best rail- 

 road facilities. We speak of the New 

 York, New Haven and Hartford Rail- 

 road no more frequently than we men- 

 tion the glories of sunrise or sunset, of 

 clear air or beautiful trees. We enjoy 

 them, and remain silent. But these 

 commonplace gifts of nature are great 

 gifts, and worthy of our enthusiastic 

 praises. We cannot be expected to 

 express our emotions continuously, but 

 we take pleasure in breaking out once 

 in a while, and in escaping from the 

 shell of our daily routine to give ex- 

 pression to our feeling of gratitude for 

 such blessings. So it is with the New 

 York, New Haven and Hartford Rail- 

 road. Can there be found on all the 

 earth a more democratic, sensible, com- 

 mendable and serviceable railroad corn- 

 pan v? Go over some other railroad 

 and look at the red tape and get tan- 

 gled up in it. You buy a limited ticket, 



