74 TRANSACTIONS OF THE ILLINOIS 



ers. The homes of more than one-half of the population of this 

 country; the homes of men and women who till the soil for daily 

 bread, working fourteen hours of many a day. . The homes of men 

 and women who pay an unjust share of the taxes. We don't hide 

 our property from the assessor, possibly because we cannot. Having 

 admitted that we have little money and less leisure, what adornment 

 for our homes shall we choose? Certainly one — the tree. So 

 friendly in summer. So fine now, in winter, with its delicate out- 

 lines; more beautiful in December thau in leafy June. If we have 

 been fortunate enough to have a century-old oak, of adornment and 

 respectability, we are at once assured; if not, let us call in the aid 

 of the landscape gardener, and not run the risk of ill-treating a tree 

 by putting it in the wrong place. Let us ask the oak, the elm, the 

 maple, the walnut — any of our native trees — to make their homes 

 with us. This once well done, neither our time nor our purse need 

 be further drawn upon, and we will have secured good neighbors ^nd 

 friends; friends who will bring the best of company to our door — 

 gay society. Seemingly well pleased with life are these strolling 

 minstrels — the birds. In winter we will have the handsome blue- 

 jay, the stay-worn sparrow and snow-bird. In summer, with a host 

 of others, will come the wren, blue-bird, grosbeck, oriole, the dash- 

 ing cat-bird — sometimes a rogue, sometimes a siren — the thrush, 

 whose song is so sweet that when he sings there is but one song. 



Watts' hymns are beyond my criticism, but his bird-lore is 

 faulty. Birds in their little nests do not agree — their home man- 

 ners had better be hid from quarrelsome children, but their company 

 manners are perfect. They go to your back door only as occasion 

 requires. They don't look askance at an unswept porch, and make 

 you feel the cobwebs over the door; they don't wait for their visits 

 to be returned before coming again. Neither do they ornament their 

 homes. They sing, and then for a time devote themselves to their 

 family, and then sing again. Wise and welcome birds. I prefer 

 cultivating birds to roses. No time, no money needed. Our neigh- 

 bors, the trees, do the entertaining. 



A well-kept lawn is an ornament; an attempt and failure, a 

 positive disfigurement. If we can afford to hire the work done by 

 the day, the lawn will probably be a success. If it is to be done by 

 one of our already over-taxed family, let it be one of the things we 

 can go without. 



The reasoning usually is, "The work can be done by the boy of 

 evenings, or on rainy days." The boy — that overworked boy. The 

 boy on a farm is supposed to possess the patience of Job, the 

 strength of Hercules, the wisdom of Solomon, and have all the 

 trades at his fingers ends. If it rains, allow him an undisturbed 

 day with the St. Nicholas. The extra hour had better be spent whist- 

 ling in the evening sunshine than in rushing a lawn-mower. If we 

 must have the lawn let it be so arranged that we can use horse- 



