FIELD AND STUDY 



struggle is a long and hard one, are sure to win in 

 the end; after many years one central shoot gets a 

 start from the top of the thorny mound of cropped 

 twigs, makes rapid strides upward, and in due sea- 

 son stands there the perfected tree. It will now bear 

 fruit for the short-sighted grazers that sought to 

 destroy it. 



Our belief in the uniformity of nature, or in the 

 unchangeableness of natural law, is fundamental. 

 We act upon it every hour of our lives; our bodies 

 and minds are built upon that plan. Yet in detail, 

 and within narrow limits, nature is unequal, capri- 

 cious, incalculable. Can the farmer always foretell 

 his crops or forecast a wet season or a dry? The 

 problem is too complex, or our wits are too shallow. 



Last season the hay- crop over a large part of the 

 country broke the record. The meadows everywhere, 

 and without any very obvious reason, doubled their 

 yield; the farmers' barns from Pennsylvania to 

 Maine were bursting with plenty, and at the end of 

 haying a row of stacks encompassed or flanked most 

 of them. The trees all seem to have had a super- 

 abundance of leaves. On my own grounds we raked 

 up and put under cover for stable use nearly double 

 the usual quantity from the same number of trees. 

 One important factor in this meadow and pasture 

 and tree fertility was probably the continued deep 

 snows of last winter. About one hundred inches fell 

 in the Hudson Valley, and two feet at one fall in 

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