April afe, igdti.l 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
appeared in the edge of our smaller kettle, extending 
down in a jagged line for about 5 inches, 
George looked at the. damage ruefully. 
I don't see," said he, "what should have made that 
kettle crack. It has done duty for more than fifty years 
right in this family. Barrels of soap, oceans of maple 
syrup, and hundreds of yards of carpet rags have all 
been treated m it, and it has stood fires that the Hebrew 
children could never have survived. Why it took this 
particular time to 'bust' I can't see. Pa sets great store 
by that kettle, Cousin H., and I guess you had better 
break the news of its cracking gently to him when he 
comes dow-n this afternoon, and, say, don't say a word 
to ma about it; it's her pet kettle." 
I agreed to do as George requested, and for fear we 
might crack the other one, we let the fire go down; and 
upon iny word, the more we let it alone the fiercer it 
burned, and the more savagely the kettles boiled. When 
Cousin Charley came down they were still flopping fu- 
riously, and when we told him, he only smiled, lit his 
pipe, put on more wood, and remarked that it wasn't 
cracked far enough to injure it seriously. 
At 4 o'clock George went to the house to help Jim 
Hennesy, the hired man, do the chores, and now came 
the struggle to boil down the sap by 6 o'clock to the 
point where the product could be put in three large tin 
pails to 'o& carried to the house, to be clarified and re- 
ceive its final touches on the kitchen range. We worked 
like stokers on an ocean liner, and at just 6 we took of? 
the kettles, strained the syrup, piled up the implements, 
and each with a heavy pail but a light heart took our way 
for the house, almost a mile away. Just try carrying a 
full milk-pail of syrup, ii pounds to the gallon, a mile 
over sodden fields and slippery snow banks. It was a 
weark tug, with many rests; but Cousin Charley cheered 
us up with stories of the war of '6i, in which he' had been 
■ an active participant, and soon the windmill, the barns 
and the house came into view, and at last we ^tumbled in, 
exhausted, but happy, for supper awaited us. 
The next day we visited and gathered the sap, which 
did not flow very freely, the weather having turned cold. 
That evening a couple of neighboring cousins came in 
and a young man who, I suspect, would like to be a 
cousin, and we had warm sugar and cool cider, and 
everybody took a look at the row of cans full of the 
results of our labors m the sugar bush. The next day 
being Sunday, we only took a quiet walk through the 
bush, noting gladly that the sap was flowing very freely, 
insuring a good boiling for Monday: but Monday we had 
to go; and as we drove away to catch an early train with 
a basketful of cans of syrup, we saw George and Jirn 
Hennesy driving down to the woods again to repeat the 
process of boiling down maple sap in the good old 
primitive way. • H. W. D. L. 
Dansviu.e, N. Y. 
The Girl on the Farm. 
"The boy on the farm." It is always the boy. One 
would think that there were no girls on the farm at all 
or they were very stupid creatures who never saw any- 
thing nor ever had any fun. 
I know a woman who spent a most happy childhood on 
a farm. The great broad prairie swept away to the north 
and again to the south. To the east a few lonely farm- 
houses dotted the landscape, while to the west the prairie 
brought at a river and the timber on its banks. 
That girl learned to do all the things that her brother 
did; fished in the ponds for "cats" with a pin for a hook 
and then ia the river with a real hook, but to this day she 
declares that she had the more fun with the old bent pin. 
In memory of that crooked old pin she fished last sum- 
mer in Alaskan waters, in the trout streams of the Cas- 
cades and in the far-famed Yellowstone River. 
This girl spent many a happy hour on the banks of the 
ponds, where she learned all about tadpoles and water 
bugs, and was quite sure when the ducks were all found 
dead and laying in a pile on the banks of the pond one 
day that that bad boy of Parkington's had done it, but 
learned later that the ducks had done it themselves by 
eating leeches, the silly things. 
• This girl drove the cows to the pasture, waked up the 
rabbits, who by a series of brilliant dashes always made 
their escape, almost trod on a plover, who fled from her 
nest in a halting and seemingly maimed condition, and so 
deceived the little child who thought to catch her and just 
as she was about to lay her hands on her the wily dame 
cut the air with her wings and disappeared toward the 
setting sun. 
Grouse and quail were abundant in Illinois in those 
early days and there was always a string of these birds 
on the back porch, but now there are very few of these 
birds m the central part of the State. 
There were cattails down by the pond and strawberries 
hidden under the big compass weeds, flowers and bees on 
the prairie. There were toads and snakes to swallow them 
and a little girl with a hoe to choke the snake and make 
him release his half-swallowed prey. 
Wild geese and ducks nested in the tall grass of the 
ponds, while stately cranes, like fine old gentlemen of the 
. *ild school, waded in the water. 
Hand in hand these children roamed the fields and the 
prairie, as far as it was safe, for there were wolves in 
those days a plenty, and savage they were, too, when 
driven b}^ hunger. 
They put horse hairs in the watering trough just to 
see them turn to snakes. The father said that they'd do 
no .such thing, but Pat said they \vould, and the children 
believed Pat. 
In winter there was skating, sleighing and spelling 
school. There were apples to roast, nuts to crack and 
cider to drink sent by the grandfather over in Indiana. 
From nadir to zenith the world was full of things to be 
investigated. The heat rising from the earth, the eclipse 
of the sun, the growing trees, the birds' nests, the sprout- 
ing corn, the blind mole in the garden. Indeed, the 
prairie was a vast saga book, a page to be read every day. 
Yes. indeed, there are girls on the farm who are quite 
as wideawake as their brothers. 
That girl now whom I have been telling you about 
Jiunts and fishes with her husband now. and is quite the 
baooiest woman of my acquaintance. 
She reads Forest and Stream and says that she could 
better do without her cook book. 
Mrs. James. Edwin. Morris. 
A Pair of Tame Quail. 
BxTRHsiDE, La., April ii. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
Last summer, while on a farm in the mountains of Vir- 
gmia, I had the good luck, or bad lUck, if you will, to get 
some quail eggs from the nest of a poor bird that the mow- 
mg machine had run over. The quail was killed and most of 
the eggs, which were nearly ready to be hatched, were 
broken. However, I got nine of them and took them 
immediately to the house, and I placed them under a 
little bantam hen, taking away her own eggs, upon which 
she was setting. In about one week five of the eggs 
hatched out. Unfortunately three of the little quail were 
killed by the hen stepping upon them. The two that re- 
mamed grew up to be strong and healthy birds; and 
strange to say, they have never deserted their foster 
mother, the little bantam hen. When the quail were 
nearly grown the bantam proceeded to set again, but the 
quail were faithful to her and would feed around in the 
grass near where her nest was, and at night they both 
would nestle close by her side in the nest. After the hen 
had been allowed to set for a short while her eggs were 
taken from her and the nest was broken up. She then 
took the quail in charge again, and all fall and winter she 
has faithfully gone about with them. The hen would 
scratch in the leaves and soft loose earth and cluck to her 
adopted children, and they would run to her and pick up 
seed or insects just as little chickens do. 
These two quail are absolutely fearless of people, and 
a call will bring them both running to you. The cock bird 
will take crumbs from your fingers, but the hen, with the 
BOB AT HOME. 
shyness (?) of her sex, will run away with a chittering 
sound and her crest erect if you attempt to be too friend- 
ly. _ The inclosed kodak picture shows tlie cock bird 
quietly picking up some crumbs which were being thrown 
to him from the top of the steps. At night they wOuld 
roost on top of a honeysuckle covered trellis by the side 
of the hen. This is my first experience of quail roosting 
in bushes or vines. They were soon broken of this habit 
by an owl's attempt to catch the bantam hen one night. 
After that the hen was every night placed in her box, and 
a small opening was left for the quail to go in. But they 
would not go into the box, preferring to roost under 
one of the rose bushes. All winter they have followed the 
old hen. The overseer wrote me in the latter part of 
February that they were beginning to whistle "Bob 
White." I have never heard a quail whistle "Bob White" 
except when they were paired oflf in the early spring and 
during the nesting period. February in Virginia is a win- 
ter month and much too soon for birds even to think 
about mating. Down here in Louisiana the first time this 
season that I heard "Bob White" was on April g. So 
my little friends in Virginia are tuning up a long while 
ahead of our birds down here. I hope very much that 
they will nest near the house and bring up a brood, and 
remain tame enough to be watched through the summer. 
W. P. M. 
Spring in the Adifondacks* 
Essex, N. Y. — Editor Forest and Stream: Lake Cham- 
plain is still ice-locked. I have just returned from a trip 
to the mountain region about Dix and McComb, April 
i6. There is 3 feet of snow on a level on the north side 
of the range, and there has been no thaw at all to raise 
the brooks. The trout for the most part lie in darkness 
under the winter's accumulation of snow and ice, which 
still cover the larger streams, and the deer are still 
confined to their yards. It will be a month before the 
ice is off the mountain lakes, and a good many days be- 
fore there is any possibility of the brooks being cleared* 
of the snow water. 
I camped two nights in the woods and traveled twenty 
or twenty-five miles on snowshoes. I was looking for 
bear, but there is too much snow for bruin, and though 
I went over a country where bear sign was plenty last 
fall, I could find no tracks. On Spotted Mountain, an 
oflshoot from McComb, I went through a continuous 
deer yard for more than a mile. I think fifty deer were 
wintering there at an elevation of 3,000 feet in the ever- 
green forest. The deer seemed in poor condition, though 
they had considerable feed in places in old lumber roads 
on the red maple shoots, and where they had bitten off 
the buds the sap had started to run, and the icy pendants 
tasted as sweet or sweeter than the sap of the sugar 
maple. In other places they. had browsed on the balsam 
tips in preference to the other evergreens. 
The deer had not visited the lower levels at all. I 
saw only very few tracks on the hardwood ridges, where ■ 
an occasional deer had ventured out on the coast. I vis- 
ited the deer as little as possible, as they had hard sail- ' 
ing when they got off their paths, floundering in the 
dep snow, and knocking olT patches of hair on the stubs. 
I could have touched some of the deer if I had cared to 
foil ow them. The snowshoeing was fine, and I never 
enjoyed myself more than on this trip, albeit I had no 
luck from the hunter's standpoint. 
Writing of it in cold blood, it does not seem the most 
pleasant thing: in the world to boast of blinding storms 
on the summ.its of icy mountains, or to sleep with the 
snow banked up on either side several feet above one'-s 
head, or to have wet feet and no warm food, and no 
neighbor nearer than an old hoot owl in a spruce tree. 
These things on paper look disagreeable, but combined 
the ingredients, like some nasty tasting things, form a very 
wholesome inedicine— though I guess I am off in my 
simile, for it is an injustice, anyway, to compare camping 
and medicine. ^ J. B B. 
Disturbing Nature's Balances. 
According to a report from Delaware a contract has 
beeii made with good shots in that State to furnish the 
bodies of 20,000 meadow larks, bluebirds, redwings and 
other songsters for millinery purposes. The birds are by 
no means without friends, and the announcement of the 
proposed Delaware slaughter is met by a vigorous protest. 
Among the Audubon societies earnest action is urged to 
prevent the wholesale slaughter. In reply the Milliners' 
Trade Review makes some interesting disclosures.. It 
declares that fashion will have nothing to do with' the 
four varieties of birds mentioned, that sparrows are not 
worth one cent a hundred, and that both owls and crows 
can be bought more cheaply in Europe than^ in this 
country. Most of the feathers worn in America, the edi- 
tor continues, are those of turkeys, chickens and guinea 
fowls. The same ingenuity tliat has turned glucose into 
the products of sugar and beef fat into butter has been 
exercised in the feather trade, so that a bird on a hat has 
a bill of wood, breast plumage plucked from a chicken and 
beautifully dyed, legs of twist silk and eyes of glass. 
With poultry feathers, dyes, cotton, buckram and paste a 
manufacturing milliner, it is said, can outdazzle the 
■ bu-ds of a tropical forest. 
Probably this is true as far as it goes, but a look through 
the warehouses of the world would reveal a huge accumu- 
lation of birds killed for ornament in. dress. Nor is there 
any sufficient assurance that the traffic is not carried on 
m a wanton and wasteful manner. A bird flitting be- 
fore a man or boy with a gun is often made a target as a 
mere test of marksmanship. It is difficult to prevent the 
extermmation of the most valuable birds, like Bob White, 
whose cheerful note from the next field is one of the 
dehghts of country life. What is needed in general educa- 
tion is a thorough impress of the fact that a reckless dis- 
turbance of nature's bounties is one of the direct roads to 
national and racial decay. One entomologist estimates 
that but for birds there would be an insect to every square 
inch of land in the State of Ilinois. Another asserts that 
the tree sparrow each season destroys 875 tons of noxious 
weed seeds m Iowa alone, and the Department of Agricul- 
ture sets forth the great value of hawks and owls in 
keeping down the small rodents with which the farmer 
contends. Ruskm refers to the bird myths of ancient 
races as a standard of intelligence. Appreciation of birds 
as vitally related to man's welfare, is by no means con- 
nned to modern times. 
In many States the stock of game is dwindling steadily 
and hsh are disappearing from the streams. These sub- 
jects are seldom heard of in State Legislatures, and yet 
they are an intimate part of the highest political economy 
A defanition of a forest that recently appeared in a publica- 
tion from the Government Division of Forestry deserves 
a place in every mind. "Although composed of trees " 
it runs, the forest is far more than a collection of trees 
standing m one place. It has a population of animals, and 
plants peculiar to itself, a soil largely of its own making, 
and a climate different in many ways from that of the open 
country. Its influence upon the streams alone makes 
tarrnmg possible m many regions, and everywhere it 
tends to prevent floods and drought." It supplies fuel, a 
necessity of life, and lumber, "without which cities, rail- 
roads and all the great achievements of materiar progress 
would have been either long delayed or wholly impossible " 
ft IS safe to say that, as civilization progresses, political 
bodies_ will give a more serious consideration to "these 
potential. -matters.— St. Louis Globe-Democrat 
"Ttu* pcmindi me." 
That Old Story. 
"tP^^/^I?^^^' ^P"' i6.— Editor Forest and Stream: 
That Old Story," as told by W. B. S. in FoRfesT and 
■bTREAM of April 14 seems to be going the rounds again. 
UJa stories, like old fashions, will come around after a 
few years. I heard the old story fifty years ago, when I 
was an eleven-year-old kid on my father's woodland farm 
tn Ohio. We did not have juvenile books or papers in 
tliose days as the youngsters now have, and received our 
instruction and entertainment around the big fireplace on 
winter evenings. My father in his younger days had 
traveled as far south as New Orleans, and I suppose had 
picked up this story down there, as it was told of two 
darkies—Cufiee and Sambo— who wert out hunting pos- 
sitm.s for their Christmas feast in the woods of Arkansas 
Conimg to an opening in the hillside, they suspected it 
might be the abode of possums or some other game 
Sambo crawled into the hole to investigate, and to his 
astonishment ran against a young bear, which he tried 
to drag out by the hind leg. During these proceedings, 
a good deal of noise being the result, Cuffee on watch 
outside discovered an old bear coming on the run, with 
evident mischievous intent. Armed with nothing but a 
club, Cuffee could not do much to stay the progress of 
Iwv"?";?- ^"^'^'^^^ the tail as "she 
t"*';;^"'^^/" the den. Sambo within seeing 
■'tA 1 I to a dead mgger:" 
•darkfde hc^e'F^ ""''^^^ ^^^^^ 
Now let soniebody ci.^e tell the same story with a 
tW iM« ^ have^no dbubt 
back nobodv'l.'^n"^ ""'r' ^^^""^Ithat have started awav 
Daclc nobodj. knows when or where, and varied to suit 
diflferent localities and people. Holdine on to a bear's or 
boar .^ ^ail IS rather insecure to obstruct his movtmeSs! 
Senex. 
