\yiii;re the sp()RTs:\rAx loves to linger. (x 



stninc^ from l)iiil(lin2: to Imildiiiii, so as not to lose tlie trail ; 

 tlie liired band, with a scoop-sliovel, tryiiii;' to locate the 

 woodpile; the boss of the ranch Avallowino- tliroii<ih snow 

 to his arm-pits in a vain endeavor to reach the animal kinc^- 

 (hnn; the horses, for want of food, eating' up the stable in 

 front and kicking- holes throui^h it in the rear; the cows 

 bellowino- to be milked, the hog-pen covered with moun- 

 tains of snow, the haystack and corn-cril) out of sight, and 

 the usually patient housewife yelling at her lord at the 

 top of her voice through a crack in the door, ''Dry wood, 

 or no 1 breakfast I" 



Through the courtesy of the superintendent of a pulp 

 mill we stopped oyov at IMillinocket and saw the process 

 whereby the virgin forest is turned into paper. The logs 

 were sawed into blocks, the l)locks ground into pulp and 

 the pulp convei't(Ml into paper. The lumlxTing camps of 

 ]Maine are fast removing the trees from which the State 

 got its sobri<juet; nor does the pine tree come again where 

 once cut off. Strange as it nmy seem, where years ago the 

 great pine forest was, now one has ditticulty in finding a 

 pine tree. As a general rule, similar growth springs up 

 from the stump of a tree cut down, but not so with the 

 ''pumpkin" pine. Almost invariably birch comes instead. 

 V^Q saw repeatedly white birch growing from the stump, 

 we might say, of a pine tree. From the way the pine tree 

 is disappearing T^faine will have to change her other name. 

 There was a time when pine was the on.ly tree cut in the 

 State; now tlie spruce and hemlock are also fast disappear- 

 ing. r>ut worse than the woodch()]»per are the pul]^ mills. 

 They clean out eveiwthing in sight, large aiul snmll. Laws 

 should be enacted protecting the young timber, or ^Nlaine 

 will lose its attractiveness for the American sportsman. 

 What a magnificent spectacle th(^ woods of Maine must 



