THE PENINSULA FARMERS' CLUB— DISCUSSIONS. 03 



and would have known nothinsj of it but for being told by some one who had 

 noticed a thermometer. It is the wind part of our '' cold snaps" that hurts, — 

 Jiurts so terribly ! How fearfully does Minnesota and the wind-swept ]S"orth- 

 west emphasize this fact in their reports of recent storms. 



Now, whoever heard of one perishing in the woods from cold, if of sound 

 mind and body, with enough to eat, and the means to build a lire? It may 

 have happened. I never heard of it. What, then, is the difference between 

 shelter and exposure ? It is the difference between life and death. In the one 

 case we pass along without danger, or the appearance of danger. In the other, 

 we expose ourselves to the most fearful peril. I believe it is now taken for grant- 

 ed that the effect of wind and cold combined on plant life is the same in nature 

 as upon animal life. An apple tree may endure a degree of cold and wind 

 without injury, that would kill an ox. But a degree can be reached In which 

 the tree will succumb; and that degree will be much higher with than with- 

 out wind. That is, it may stand 40° below zero without wind, when it would 

 be killed with 20° in a gale. Fruit blossom buds, especially peach buds, 

 answer to this law. If anybody knows the why and wherefore of this, I do 

 not know who he is. I wish I did. I have heard reasons suggested. The 

 main one is that the moisture, which is the life of the tree, is evaporated so 

 rapidly that it dies. But of the cause, I am ignorant. Of the fact, nobody is 

 ignorant. 



Mr. Chairman, we have winds, — high winds, — frequent winds, — heavy Avinds. 

 With these I know well that we do not get as low a temperature as is common 

 farther south. But we have had eighteen below zero this winter. This is a 

 hint that we may not be reckless, — a hint that the more cautious we are, the 

 more safeguards we throw around us, the greater will be our security. For 

 this region now is an opportune time to consider this subject and urge it upon 

 the attention of the people. The native forests are generally standing. Out 

 of these, farms can be carved, leaving bodies and belts of timber standing, of 

 such dimensions and shape as to secure the needed protection. Nothing bet- 

 ter is wanted than our own maples, and beeches, and hemlocks, and whatever 

 else grows in our forests, for these belts. The people need to know how 

 important they are. They need, also, to have correct ideas of how they should 

 be arranged. The people of this country, as in all new timbered countries, 

 seem to look upon trees as their direst enemies. They seek their destruction 

 by slashing and burning; and act as though they would invoke, if possible, a 

 timber plague more devastating than the worst of the plagues of E<jypt. The 

 place for their dwelling is first hewed out. Down falls every tree, and bush, 

 and shrub. Joy is complete when all is dissolved into ashes and smoke. The 

 house is built, the opening enlarged so as to let in the winds, and they come 

 with their fury, and drive the snow into and through every crack and cranny,, 

 and pile it up in huge heaps around them. How could misery be made more 

 complete ? 



There stood the natural trees, which, if let alone or only trimmed and the 

 nnsfable ones removed, would rob the blast of all its horrors. Suppose that in 

 preparing for a residence, an acre of ground were cleared off, and around it a 

 belt of the original forest were left two rods deep, treated as above suggested. 

 The under-growth would soon become very dense, and the younger trees spread 

 out their tops, and their bodies grow stocky and strong. The old trees would 

 and should soon be removed. But there would stand a wall of live wood. 

 How a man so protected would pity his wind-swept neighbor. His apple trees, 



