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estry is commercial, radically utilitarian. The 

 forester is a man with an axe. Trees to the for- 

 ester mean what cattle do to the butcher. Lum- 

 ber is his product and to recite "Woodman, 

 Spare that Tree! " to a forester would be like ask- 

 ing the butcher to spare the ox. The forester is 

 a scientific slaughterer of the forest; he must 

 keep trees falling in order to supply lumber. A 

 forester is not concerned with the conservation 

 of scenery. Then, too, a forester builds his roads 

 to facilitate logging and lumbering. The Park 

 man builds roads that are scenic highways, 

 places for people. 



We need the forest reserve, and we need the 

 National Park. Each of these serves in a dis- 

 tinct way, and it is of utmost importance that 

 each be in charge of its specialist. The forester 

 is always the lumberman, the park man is a 

 practical poet; the forester thinks ever of lum- 

 ber, the park man always of landscapes. The 

 forester must cut trees before they are over-ripe 

 or his crop will waste, while the park man wants 

 the groves to become aged and picturesque. 

 The forester pastures cattle in his meadows, 



328 



