36 Canadian Forestry Journal, March, 1914. 



(Continued from Page 34.) 



An Honour to Canada. 



Mr. Gordon C. Edwards, of Ottawa, 

 who has been for several years a 

 valued and active Director of the 

 Canadian Forestry Association, was 

 on March 5 elected President of the 

 National Wholesale Lumber Dealers' 

 Association at its twenty-second An- 

 nual ]\Ieeting in Buffalo^, N.Y. This 

 is the leading lumber organization on 

 the continent, and the election of Mr. 

 Edwards, the first Canadian to hold 

 the office, is a compliment to Canada, 

 and to the Canadian lumber trade. 

 At the same time the National Whole- 

 salers have secured a most efficient 

 President, and one who will add 

 strength and popularity to their or- 

 ganization Mr. Edwards has occu- 

 pied important positions in that As- 

 sociation for several years, and under 

 his presidency 1914 promises to be the 

 best year in its history. 



. Mr. F. C. Whitman, Vice-Pres. 



Forestry Association. 



Canadian 



Quebec, the Pioneer. 



Quebec was the first province to 

 have a co-operative forest protective 

 association. The results of two years ' 

 operation were so satisfactory in the 

 original association covering the St. 

 Maurice Valley that now a new or- 

 ganization has been formed, which 

 will cover a large section of the pro- 

 vince between the St. Maurice and 

 Upper Ottawa. This brings the co- 

 operative plan up to the borders of 

 Ontario, and if it proves again suc- 

 cessful it will doubtless cross the Ot- 

 tawa River into Ontario. 



THE TREELESS FUTURE. 



I dreamed of a child in the years to be, 



My granddaughter's, grandson's son; 

 In the light of a radium stove sat he, 



His history lesson to con. 

 He came to a word that his knowledge 

 tried. 



He spelled it three times three; 

 Then asked of the ancient man by his side, 



'Say, grandfather, what is a tree?' 



TREES. 



By M. Blanche. 



In serried rank or lonely state, 



Like veterans they stand. 

 Through starry night, through storm-swept 

 days, 



To sentinel the land. 



I know not if I love them best 



When fledged with springtime green. 



Or when, with silvan vesture clad. 

 They deck the summer scene. 



And yet when autumn touches them 



With dyes unknown to art. 

 Beneath that gorgeous color-spell 



I needs must yield my heart. 



But, ah! I know I love them well 

 When, all white winter through. 



With gray and lacelike tracery, 

 They etch the curving blue. 



A movement has sprung up among the 

 lumber jacks on the coast and islands of 

 the Gulf of Georgia, B.C., to become per- 

 manent settlers instead of roving laborers 

 without homes. The Government is assisting 

 the movement by all means. 



