that a violation of law in this respect carries with it a penalty of 

 Ten Dollars for each and every such offense. 



But let us lay aside the law and appeal to sentiment — to your 

 sentiment, dear sir. It is pitiful to note the havoc to street trees 

 wrought by munching horses. Walk along streets where trees stand 

 near the curb and notice the effects due to a most lamentable negli- 

 gence. In most cases the trees are without guards. Bright and 

 early the milkman comes along and jumps off with his can, leaving 

 the horse to make a matutinal meal by gnawing the bark of the 

 nearest tree. Later on comes the butcher, after him the baker, 

 next the candlestick maker, then the grocer, and so on. The horses 



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of these gentlemen lunch upon what was left by the milkman's 

 horse. And so there is inflicted an amount of damage limited only 

 by the time the drivers choose to linger in friendly chat with their 

 customers. Now to the average horse the bark of a tree is a tooth- 

 some morsel, and this good old four-footed Friend of Man can in a 

 short while put a bite in the bark that will work sad detriment to 

 the tree. THE PICTUBE ON PAGE 20 WILL SHOW. 



That ugly cavity is what comes in time of horse bites. First, 

 the wood is made bare of its protecting bark. Then the weather 

 gets in its work, rain, dew, dirt, tree bacteria, and so on. Decay 

 sets in. The wood rots, and the rot spreads, spreads wider and 

 wider and sinks deeper and deeper. In time the ghastly spectacle 

 of the picture is realized. Pitiful, isn't it? Meanwhile and inci- 



21 



