Vices of Plants 113 
with life; the other was the consummation of death in all its 
grim nude ugliness. Was a dim sense of brotherhood pos- 
sible between these two widely separated creations? Can 
the wildest imagination of a tree ever foresee itself builded 
into floors, timbers, into temples, or ships, or railroad ties? 
Is the lumber pile ignominy, or the destiny coveted of trees; 
and do they feel thwarted in their life work when they merely 
fulfil the life purpose, and are not used in constructive ways? 
Men are not happy merely to live; they must express them- 
selves in one way or another. Is it a disgrace in a forest to 
fall from old age? Are there vague stirrings of aim and 
ambition in the heart of trees? What is their secret feeling 
toward storms, the winter cold and winds? ‘The train came 
too soon for me to answer the questions that arose, but I felt 
it had been good to have sat for an hour, trying to interpret 
their silent council. 
I have wandered far afield, and must return to depict vice 
as I find it. Some plants have low instincts and attract to 
themselves bad associates. If you are in the detective ser- 
vice and want to track the rosebug, visit the seemingly 
respectable garden heliotrope, any of the Spireas, the Asper- 
ula hexaphylla, and you will find him feasting at the table 
of your favorites like a bon vivant. If you want to entrap 
the green aphis send an investigating committee unawares 
to the tips of your choicest roses or gaura;—if you would 
arrest the potato-bug, set a spy on the nicotiana. I like 
not this company, and shall not further enumerate the black- 
legs of the garden, for you will find them duly pictured in 
the Rogue’s Gallery under the title of Mine Enemies. I 
merely mention the fact that some plants are leading a double 
life, and consort with very questionable companions. 
Then there are plants with bad habits. Whether they eat 
too much, or drink too much, or it is due to some other 
