THE OUTDOOR WORLD. 



249 



surance," should be placed on the firm 

 basis of public support. 



The only criticism of Professor Hor- 

 chem's plan thus far is that it con- 

 siders the boys only. What of the 

 girls? Are they to have no "Park 

 Life" of their own? Assuredly not the 

 same kind of "Park Life" as that of the 

 boys. But Professor Horchem's plan 

 is not yet fully shown — perhaps not 

 fully wrought out, as yet, in his own 

 mind. Let him perfect and exemplify 

 to the nation his plan for the boys first, 

 and then listen to what he may say for 

 the girls ; for they are no less the ob- 

 jects of his interest and solicitude. 



The plan should and will be ex- 

 tended to girls, men and women. Na- 

 ture and her education and recreation 

 are for all. Let us have a school of 

 "Park Life" for all in every town, city 

 and village in the United States. The 

 middle of the pond is the best place 

 to throw a stone for the largest circling 

 waves in every direction. Dubuque, 

 Iowa, is well situated as a center for 

 great rolling waves of the Horchem 

 idea. May they reach even old New 

 England. The Horchem "Park Life" 

 idea is a fact, a success ; it is growing 

 and will spread. The whole project 

 has been at once regarded as whole- 

 some, eminently sane and practical. 



Leaves Change Color in the Autumn. 



BY PROFESSOR WM. F. GANONG, NORTH- 

 AMPTON, MASSACHUSETTS. 



Despite the prominence of the phe- 

 nomenon, we do not yet know the full 

 meaning of the autumn colors of the 

 leaves. We do know that late in 

 the summer the tree is preparing for 

 the leaf fall by drawing the valuable 

 substances of the leaf into the stem. 

 It also ceases to make chlorophyl, the 

 green substance of the leaf which aids 

 in the making of the plant's food, and 

 this gradually fades away in the bright 

 light. By fading it exposes to view any 

 other colors in the leaf, and all leaves 

 contain yellow coloring matters, called 

 xanthophyl, whose function is not 

 known, and it is these which give the 

 yellow of autumn leaves. The red is 

 found in a different way. In bright 

 light and cool temperature a new sub- 



stance called erythrophyl is made from 

 sugar and tannin in the leaf cells, and 

 that has a red color. A brown sub- 

 stance is also sometimes formed and, 

 besides, the skeleton of the leaf itself 

 turns brown as the leaf dies. It is the 

 various combinations of these substan- 

 ces which give the many shades of 

 autumn colors. Some students think 

 these colors are a useful protection to 

 the living protoplasm of the leaf after 

 the green disappears, protecting it 

 against the full blaze of light which is 

 injurious, but others think the colors 

 have no use at all but are simply the 

 incidental chemical result of the pro- 

 cesses in the ripening and dying leaf. 

 At present the evidence seems to favor 

 the latter view, but the matter is still 

 11 isettled. It is generally thought that 

 frost has something to do with it ; but 

 it has not, except to hasten it. Any- 

 thing which affects the vitality of the 

 leaf tends to hasten it; for which rea- 

 son an injured branch of a maple will 

 often show red autumn color even in 

 summer. The colors are the brightest 

 where the leaves receive the most bril- 

 liant sunlight. 



I long ago lost a hound, a bay horse, 

 and a turtle-dove, and am still on their 

 trail. Many are the travelers I have 

 spoken concerning them, describing 

 their tracks and what calls they an- 

 swered to. I have met one or two who 

 had heard the hound, and the tramp of 

 the horse, and even seen the dove dis- 

 appear behind a cloud, and they seemed 

 as anxious to recover them as if they 

 had lost them themselves. — "Walden." 



NOVEMBER'S DIRGE. 



A spirit haunts the year's last hours, 

 Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers: 



To himself he talks. 

 For at eventide, listening earnestly, 

 At his work you may hear him sob and 

 sigh, 



In the walks. 



Earthward he boweth the heavy stalks 



Of the mouldering flowers; 



Heavily hangs the broad sun-flower; 



Over its grave in the earth so chilly; 

 Heavily hangs the hollyhock, 

 Heavily hangs the tiger lily. 



— Tennyson. 



