12 THE BROOK BOOK 



briskly of the preeminent utility and permanence 

 of wire, barbed, twisted or woven ; the loiterer may 

 sing the praises of the serpentine or " rickrack" 

 fence of rails, but for me there is no fence like a 

 good old bramble -ridden, squirrel - haunted stump 

 fence. The older it is the better. The soft gray 

 of the bare and rugged roots, the stones imbedded 

 between them, to me would be quite enough. But 

 ever a good provider, nature has crowded the stump 

 fence with bushes and peopled it with gentle wild 

 folk who dwell unmolested in its fastnesses. What 

 bird would have much to do with a wire fence? 

 The meadow lark uses it as a perch, to be sure, 

 but the stump fence with its accompanying shrub- 

 bery is a veritable playground for birds. Nervous 

 wasps, armored and bayoneted, flit in and out. 

 The soft decaying stump furnishes an endless sup- 

 ply of wood-pulp for their paper factory. The leaf- 

 cutter bee finds the wood easy to tunnel and the 

 wild rosebushes of the fence-row supply the neces- 

 sary lining for the nest. Here squirrels and field 

 mice hoard their stores and woodchucks burrow. 

 The fence supplies them with parade ground and 

 conceals their thresholds. That impenetrable tangle 

 of wild raspberry must have been worth visiting in 

 berry season. Its long interlacing canes are cov- 

 ered with hoary bloom. What a boon they are 

 to Molly Cottontail, and what a source of exasper- 

 ation to her pursuers! 



As we skirted along the fence, half looking for 

 a place to get through, we came upon a clump of 

 shrubs, whose small but upright trunks stood like 



