A PERFECT TRINITY. 107 



close together then, but now only a few indi- 

 viduals, gray, shaggy, monarchs of an almost 

 forgotten forest, stand and spread their long, 

 protecting branches o'er the blue-grass sward 

 about them. 



Limestone soil blue-grass covered maple 

 shaded what a perfect trinity! To me the 

 charm is always lessened if one of the trio be 

 lacking. They belong together, flourish best 

 together the soil yielding its elements to grass 

 and tree the grass its rich, nutritious juice to 

 grazing sheep and kine the tree its sugar and 

 its shade. Of what pleasing, pastoral memories 

 are they a part, when, in the distant, dust be- 

 grimed city, I sometimes close my eyes and 

 ears and go back to youthful days. 



Along the woodland stream in the valley be- 

 fore me many of these maples rise from the 

 shelving banks; rise gracefully, with spreading 

 branches, for 60 feet and more. They are the 

 trees which the farmer most cherishes. His axe 

 and that of the lumberman long since felled 

 their taller, more noble companions, the great 

 oaks, walnuts, hickories and poplars, which once 



