Clearing Up 



During a visit last summer to an east- 

 ern town, my attention was called to the 

 Ampelopsis, each vine labeled with the 

 date of the class cut in one of the stones 

 of the foundation of the college chapel, 

 near which the plants were set, and it was 

 melancholy to see how forlorn and small 

 many of them were, and how others had 

 died completely for lack of attention. The 

 same may be said of numbers of the pitiful 

 little Maples and Elms that huddle around 

 the unpicturesque and bare high-school 

 buildings in some parts of New England, 

 which really should by this time be amply 

 shaded if a proper attention had been paid 

 to the young trees when set out. 



It strikes me that a radical change A 

 should be made in the time of planting 

 these commemorative trees and vines. 

 Instead of setting them out at the close 

 of its career, every class should on enter- 

 ing the school or university erect its 

 growing monument, and devote its best 

 energies during the four years of school 

 or college life to having its vine or its tree 

 beat the record in growth and vigor. In 

 this way, if one specimen died another 

 47 



