418 



AMERICAN FORESTRY 



highways ; New York also has many indifferently adorned 

 roads where the so-called shade trees have been planted 



A CALIFORNIA WHITE OAK 



Trees are a noble and inspiring feature of almost any landscape 

 and the planting of such memorials to our soldier dead is 

 strongly advocated by the American I-'orestry Association. 



along lot fronts, l)iit tlie extensive ])lanting of trees on 

 both sides of the arteries of vehicular travel is new in 

 this conntrv. 



National Pliotf 



WASHINGTON'S OFFICIAL MARKER 



The tree marker being placed in the public parks of Washington 

 at the direction of Lieut. Col. C. O. Sherrill. who is carrying out 

 the American Forestry Association's suggestion that the capitol 

 of the country be in reality a National Arboretum. Miss Blanche 

 Howlctt has long been an enthusiastic advocate of the plan of 

 marking the trees and earnestly urged that it be carried out. 



Underwood & Underwood 



THE PLANTING OF THE GRANT TREE 

 On the 100th anniversary of his birth, the American Forestry As- 

 sociation planted an elm from the Grant farm near St. Louis 

 near the tomb of General Grant on Riverside Drive. The picture 

 shows (left to right) W. V. Hayden, president of the Grant 

 Memorial .Association; Gen. Isadore Isaacs, Deputy Commis- 

 sioner of the G. A. R. ; W. B. Boyce, of the American Legion, 

 and Charles Lathrop Pack, president of the American Forestry 

 Association. 



PLANT ME A TREE 



By Mary Alicia Owen 



I am Fame. 



Withered are my laurels and my bays, 

 Faded the glories of my yesterdays, 

 Crumbled my arches, my columns down, 

 Roofless my temples that the hilltops crown. 

 O men, for enduring memory 



Plant me a tree. 



I am Grief. 



Mossy are my marbles mid the weeds, 

 Blackened the scroll that for remembrance pleads. 

 Sunken the mound that was flower-bedecked. 

 If you would save me from this wan neglect, 

 Giving a pledge of your constancy. 



Plant me a tree. 



I am Hope. 



Though rooted is existence in the mire. 

 My arms yearn heavenward in desire, 

 Yearn heavenward and slowly, surely grow. 

 Forgotten is the mud that lies below. 

 If you can understand the spirit thus kept free, 



Plant me a tree. 



I am Faith. 



Groves were my cathedrals long ago, 

 Sunshine and starshine kept them aglow, 

 Young trees were altars, old trees the roof. 

 Growth and strength, of God's presence were proof. 

 Recalling the Presence that there used to be, 



Plant me a tree. 



