28 



THE GUIDE TO NATURE. 



making", money spending interests of 

 great cities we no longer cared for 

 "the common things of uncommon 

 interest" which, as an old school friend 

 has just written me, make all the dif- 

 ference between plain ordinary exist- 

 ence and living. 



A great part of this national failing 

 is due to our educational system. The 

 average child is early taught that he 

 must imbibe just enough knowledge 

 of certain subjects to safely carry him 

 from one grade of the grammar school 

 to the next until he reaches the safe 

 harbor of the high school, where the 

 teacher's chief duty is to pilot him 

 into college, treatment which many 

 scientists but few naturalists survive. 

 Once established in University Halls, 

 the taking of certain courses, the cram- 

 ming for examinations, the straining 

 for coveted honors occupy all his work- 

 ing hours and he walks blindly across 

 the college campus, to the end of his 

 course. 



For example on a certain New 

 England campus is a fine specimen of 

 a "witches' broom." I have reason 

 to believe not five in this year's gradu- 

 ating class have seen this curiosity and 

 probably not more than one in the 

 five observed it without having his 

 attention called to it by a professor 

 who has a love for outdoor things. As 

 to the fondness of certain scientists for 

 articles which "bristle with gigantic 

 words," I have often noted that the 

 untaught are much impressed by the 

 unintelligible terms of science and 

 those to whom these terms are actually 

 familiar rarely trouble the reader or 

 printer except when necessary, for 

 there is no trade, art or profession 

 which we can successfully learn or 

 teach without the nsc of a few technical 

 terms ; but the naturalist is one who 

 has learned to dispense with much of 

 the dry-as-dust nomenclature in order 

 t( > interest the public. 



T remember attending a certain 

 botanical field day and after spending 

 a hard forenoon burdening poor little 

 grasses and weeds with jaw breaking 

 names we came upon a poor sar- 

 sanarilla olant. The leading spirit of 

 the club failed to recall the scientific 

 name and none of the group could 



think of the common name. Suddenly 

 a younger member of the party shouted, 

 "I have it; it's that stuff advertised 

 for a tired feeling." The good natured 

 laugh which followed showed that 

 interest in dry-as-dust nomenclature 

 was at an ebb. 



We wish success to the The Guide 

 to Nature with its articles about com- 

 monplace nature written in an 

 uncommonly good way. 



W. C. Knowles. 



Children, Adults and Chipmunks. 



To the Editor: 



Answering the query as to why 

 The Guide to Nature should be con- 

 sidered "of interest to children" only, 

 is it not simply "force of habit?" The 

 last question, what is there about a 

 tree, a dog, etc. that does not or should 

 not interest an adult, is rather begging 

 the question, as there is a wide dif- 

 ference between "does not" and "should 

 not." That which usually pertains 

 only to children might fairly be spoken 

 of as "childish ;" and certain it is that 

 the average adult does lose interest 

 in the wonderful world of Nature — 

 new and strange to the child, but 

 grown superficially familiar to the 

 adult, and few grown people retain 

 their early love for pets. The lady 

 who took no interest in the story of 

 Owney would probably have taken 

 no interest in Owney himself, as many 

 grown people do not care for dogs, 

 and some dislike them intensely. 



Whether this should be so is another 

 matter, but that it is so, The Guide 

 to Nature is a substantial admission, 

 — being published for the avowed pur- 

 pose of teaching grown people that 

 which most of them do not now know, 

 i. e., that there is real pleasure to be had 

 from an intimate acquaintance with 

 the world around us ; so the attitude 

 complained of was to be exoected, and 

 only to be evercome partially and by 

 degrees. The student of Daphnia and 

 Cyclops* might regard rabbits as child- 

 ish because they were the companions 

 of his own childhood and the pets of 

 his own children; whereas no one ever 

 thought of making a net of a Cvclons, 

 and aside from the "Oh's" and "Ah's" 

 of the dilettante microscopist they are 



