zoologists, botanists, geologists, look upon nat- 

 uralists, and others who love birds and fields, as of 

 a kind with those harmless but useless inanities who 

 collect tobacco tags, postage stamps, and picture 

 postal cards. Sentiment is not scientific. 



I have a biological friend, a professor of zoology, 

 who never saw a woodchuck in the flesh. He would 

 not know a woodchuck with the fur on from a mon- 

 goose. Not until he had skinned it and set up the 

 skeleton could he pronounce it Arctomys monax with 

 certainty. Yes, he could tell by the teeth. Dentition 

 is a great thing. He could tell a white pine (strobus) 

 from a pitch pine (rigida) by just a cone and a 

 bundle of needles, one has five, the other three, 

 to the bundle. But he would n't recognize a columned 

 aisle of the one from a Jersey barren of the other. 

 That is not the worst of it : he would not see even 

 the aisle or the barren, only trees. 



As we jogged along recently, on a soft midwinter 

 day that followed a day of freezing, my little three- 

 year-old threw his nose into the air and cried : " Oh, 

 fader, I smell de pitch pines, de scraggly pines, 

 'ou calls 'em Joisey pines ! " And sure enough, around 

 a double curve in the road we came upon a single 



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