the red Indian are made from the ma- 

 terials of the forest. Ash strips are 

 pounded skillfully and readily sepa- 

 rate themselves in flat strips suitable 

 for weaving into receptacles for carry- 

 ing the berries of the forest shades or 

 the products of the soil, whose rich- 

 ness came by reason of the long-stand- 

 ing forests which stood above it and 

 fell into it for centuries. 



Whoever has tried to stopper a 

 bottle when no cork was at hand knows 

 something of the value of one sort of 

 trees. He who has lain upon a bed of 

 fever without access to quinine knows 

 more of the debt we owe the generous 

 forests that invite us with their cooling 

 branches and their carpeted, mossy 

 floors. The uses of rubber to city peo- 

 ple are almost enough to induce one 

 to remove his hat in reverence to the 

 rubber tree; the esteem we have for 

 the products of the sugar maple and 

 the various products of the pine in 

 their common forms of tar, pitch, and 

 turpentine, as well as in their subtler 

 forms, which are so essential to the 

 arts and sciences, contributing to our 

 ease, comfort, and elegance, should 

 cause us to cherish the lofty pine and 

 the giant maple with warmest grati- 

 tude. 



Perhaps the most refined of the 

 pleasures of man is found in the play- 

 ing of musical instruments. There is 

 not one of the sweeter-toned of all the 

 vast family of musical instruments that 

 is not dependent on the sympathetic 

 qualities of the various woods. The 

 violin shows the soul of this material 

 in its highest refinement. No other 

 instrument has so effectually caught 

 the tones of the glorious mountain and 

 the peaceful valley as has the choicely 

 selected and deftly fashioned shell of 

 the fiddle. It awakens all the fancies 

 of a lifetime in one short hour, it 

 brings gladness to the heart and en- 

 livens the whole frame, and when the 

 master hand brings out from its deli- 

 cate form the deeper secrets of its na- 

 ture the violin brings tears to our eyes 

 and inspires within us an earnestness 

 of purpose which is a perpetual tribute 

 of the soul of man to the heart of the 

 forest. 



I took a spring journey once from 



the heart of old Kentucky through 

 some of the northern states around to 

 the eastward to Virginia. The dog- 

 wood was in blossom south of the 

 Ohio. The forests and hillsides were 

 set forth here and there in bridal array 

 by the glad whiteness of myriads of 

 these delicate flowers. Through Ohio 

 and Indiana the peach trees were put- 

 ting forth their delicate pink blossoms 

 that sought us out in the cars and de- 

 lighted us with their rare fragrance. 

 In Pennsylvania we passed out of the 

 peach region, and I thought the moun- 

 tains could not give flowers to match 

 the loveliness experienced on the two 

 preceding days, but when we were 

 running adown the "blue Juniata river" 

 there burst upon me the purple radi- 

 ance of the ironwood that I had en- 

 tirely forgotten as a flowering tree of 

 beauty. Brighter than the peach and 

 softer than the dogwood it stood out 

 against the foliage of the stream and hill- 

 side. It followed the railway all down 

 the Susquehanna across the line into 

 Maryland, and gave me joy until it was 

 lost again as the warmth of the south- 

 ern sun poured itself again before my 

 eyes upon the purity and simplicity of 

 the snowy dogwood. 



And in the fall I once passed through 

 the hills of New York and Massachu- 

 setts. It was Thanksgiving Day. The 

 matchless American forests were then 

 in their greatest glory. Every hill 

 seemed to have brought out its choicest 

 holiday garment and was calling for 

 admiration. So richly blended are the 

 reds, the yellows, and the greens that 

 one cannot see how people can do 

 business with such delights for the eye 

 spread out before them. Why they do 

 not come en masse and join in this 

 holiday of the trees is more than I can 

 understand. It seems as if the Crea- 

 tor of heaven and earth had reserved 

 for the home of liberty the most gor- 

 geous colorings that prismatic light is 

 susceptible of bearing, and thrown 

 them all down in luxurious profusion 

 for the delectation of the people who 

 should shake off the man-serving spirit 

 and come here to breathe the air of 

 freedom and rejoice with nature through 

 the ten days of her gorgeous Thanks- 

 giving time. 



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