THE LOCUSTS 171 



up suckers in such quantity that it soon takes 

 possession of neglected lands. It has more 

 than its share of insect enemies, because of its 

 rough, deeply tunneled bark. Often the wood 

 is rendered quite useless by the merciless locust 

 borer, which even riddles the young shoots. 

 Frequently stray seeds, sown by the wind or 

 perchance by the birds, lodge in deep crannies 

 of the locust and spring into being. Miss Going 

 speaks of having seen a raspberry and an elder 

 both growing from one locust tree and appar- 

 ently doing well. 



Do you know the honey locust, or three-cor- 

 nered acacia? It is regarded by many as the 

 handsomest of the pod-bearing trees. Its foli- 

 age is a feathery mass of once- and twice-com- 

 pounded leaves, both kinds on the same tree. 

 So fine and airy are they that the light sifts 

 easily through, and thus the tree is often leafy 

 to the very center. The honey locust has been 

 much planted in hedges, but it is not the best 

 tree for this purpose on account of its suckering 

 habit — often producing shrubs far afield in just 

 exactly the places where they are not wanted. 

 Then, too, its murderous thorns, sharp as bayo- 

 nets, seem continually to lie in wait for the un- 

 wary. The thorns are the tree's defenses 

 against enemies that would climb its trunk, or 



