FOREWORD 



PRE-EMINENT in the field of so-called nature-writ- 

 ing is, and should be, the scientific naturalist or bota- 

 nist, when he can bring to his task literary grace and 

 charm. Nothing is more important than an addi- 

 tion to human knowledge, even when its immediate, 

 or even its most remotely conceivable, bearing seems 

 trivial enough. No laughter is so much like the 

 crackling of thorns under a pot as that excited some- 

 times in certain people by the spectacle of a patient 

 scientist pursuing his minutiae. Yet there are many 

 among those who write for whom biological or 

 botanical science is, and must remain, impossible of 

 attainment, and yet who find a delight and refresh- 

 ment in wandering among the materials of such 

 science, even, perhaps, in speculating, now and 

 then, on their own account, from their own observed 

 data. This proceeding adds nothing to the sum 

 total of human knowledge, but it stimulates in its 

 practitioners a certain kindly curiosity and, like 

 golf, it at least keeps them out in the open air. The 

 present writer scarcely needs to confess himself such 

 a one. Nothing is farther from his intention, as 

 nothing is farther from his ability, than to attempt 

 a natural history, even of the Berkshire Hills which 

 surround his house and too insistently invite his 

 feet to wander. Yet it is just because he has found 

 so much delight and stimulation, amid a life other- 



