THE RED COW 



far days trees were things to be destroyed, and no 

 one thought of sparing them. But when I came back 

 to the farm and found that the noble forest had 

 dwindled to a small wood-lot that had no young 

 trees in it — because the cattle had nibbled down all 

 seedlings for many years — I was seized by a rage 

 for planting. Finding that the government was 

 willing to supply seedlings to any one who would 

 plant them out, I immediately began the work of 

 reforestration and planted thousands so that when 

 the present trees mature and are cut out there will 

 be others to take their place. These little trees are 

 now thriving lustily, but they seem to regard me 

 with an air of aloofness, and I feel when among 

 them as if they were looking at me furtively and 

 trying to decide whether I am to be trusted. Per- 

 haps there is still a tradition in the wood-lot of the 

 havoc I wrought in my youth with just such tender 



saplings as these. 



* * * * 



Yesterday while I was sitting at some distance 

 from the home oak, admiring the curved spread of 

 its branches, a bare-foot boy came out of the house. 

 Without seeing me he walked straight to the tree 

 and then looked up at its inviting branches. After 



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