i6 



He falls furiously upon them, intent to 

 carve from among them a broad foundation 

 for his fortune. Yearly his fields encroach, 

 the remnant grows thinner, but none the 

 less sturdy. The last of race and line waves 

 defiance to conquering steel as stoutly as 

 it has done to a century's storms. When 

 needs must, it comes crashing to earth ; cleft 

 so bitterly from its brave root, it still holds 

 up to heaven protesting branches, crying 

 aloud against this sylvan sacrilege. 



Trees give room only through steel and 

 fire. The felling is not a tenth part of 

 the battle. Have you ever thought what it 

 means to wrest an empire from the wilder- 

 ness ? Do but look at those four sturdy 

 fellows, racing, as for life, to the great yellow 

 poplar's heart. Four feet through, if one- 

 sap and heart ateem with new blood, just be- 

 gun to stir in this February sun it is a field 

 as fair, as strenuous, as any whereon athletes 

 ever won a triumph of mighty muscle. 



You thought it sapless dormant. The 

 woodsmen knew better. The live pinky- 

 gray of bark, the flexible fulness of twig, 

 the faint loosening of scales, the bud 

 told them sap was running up before even 

 the first chip parted so hard from the 

 wounded trunk. Oak in the sap chips 



