[88 



KATUR.\L HISTORY OF THE FARM 



nation as- a candidate for president, in order to ally him 

 with the common folks, lie was presented to them as a 

 rail-splitter. 



Events have moved raj^idly since tliat day. The rail- 

 splitter is well-nigh extinct. The rail fence has become 

 expensi^'e, and wire is taking its ]:)lace. Another generation 

 wdll see little of tlie old fonn of wooden fence, which in our 

 day still exists side by side with modem wire and ancient stone. 

 WTiatever the fonn of a fence, if it bound a tilled field, it is 

 bordered by a strip of ground, at least as wide as a whiffle- 

 tree is long, that is a tension zone of wild life. On one side is 

 the fence ; on the other, the furrow. Between extends a strip 

 of sod that the plowshare camiot reach, and this sod is full 

 of lusty wild tilings, all struggHng for a place and a living. 



If the fanner mows it con- 

 stantly, grass sod develops 

 as in a meadow ; if he mows 

 it annually in wdnter, shrubs 

 and vines possess it; if he 

 neglects to mow it for a few 

 years, trees come in. What- 

 ever plants grow in it, it is 

 a haven of refuge for their 

 wild animal associates; if 

 only grass sod, meadow-mice 

 and shrews will make their 

 nmwa\'s under its cover; if 

 briers and grass grow 

 together, rabbits wall make their forms or dig their bur- 

 rows in the midst of it. Every post or stake or high 

 point in the fence is a point of outlook and a resting- 

 place for the birds of the fields. Perching, they drop the 

 seeds of berr}'-bearin^ shrubs and vines. So, we see dog- 

 woods and elders and sumachs and chokecherries and bram- 



FiG. 72. Diagram of a cross-section of a 

 fence-row. a, soil thrown out from a 

 burrow; b, the runway of a meadow- 

 mouse under the grass; c. the "form " of 

 a rabbit; d, the furrow; and e, the 

 overturned soil. 



