Oct,  i,  1S92.] 
THE  TROPICAL  AGRICULTURIST. 
the  burly  bush  succumbed,  while  the  thin  weedy 
tree  pulled  through,  very  much  like  some  of  those 
scrawny  and  tall  New  Englanders,  who,  though 
looking  as  if  a high  wind  would  blow  them  away, 
prove  to  possess  a tough  and  staying  quality  which 
nothing  in  their  looks  presages. 
Now,  having  had  it  affirmed  as  a fact  that  a 
hundred  Pine  trees  to  the  acre  were  enough  if  they 
all  grew,  nothing  would  really  satisfy  us  but  to  put 
in  a thousand  to  start  with  on  about  an  acre  and 
a quarter  of  stubborn  soil.  That  is  the  true  American 
spirit — a desire  to  overdo.  Now,  the  master,  having 
not  much  confidence  in  the  methods  of  the  mistress 
of  this  farm,  concluded  in  true  scientfic  spirit  to 
begin  at  the  beginning,  and  plant  Pine-seed  by  the 
bushel,  as  the  easiest  and  most  thorough  way  of 
producing  thousands  of  trees  in  a wood-lot.  It  was 
in  vain  to  quote  to  this  opinionated  person  books 
on  forestry,  which  stated  that  the  results  of  sowing 
seed  in  the  reforestization  of  France  and  Switzerland 
had  proved  less  successful  than  planting  of  young 
trees ; he  was  satisfied,  like  Sam  Patch,  that  some 
things  could  be  done  as  well  as  others,  and  that  it  was 
no  reason  at  all  that  because  seed  was  unsatisfactory 
in  the  effete  countries  of  the  Old  "World  that  it  would 
not  behave  with  perfect  propriety  in  the  more  vigorous 
and  self-respecting  climate  of  Massachusetts,  where 
all  the  hardy  trees  and  virtues  manage  to  get  proper 
nourishment  out  of  the  most  forbidding  conditions. 
Therefore,  furnishing  himself  with  a barrel  of  Pine- 
cones,  the  doctor  went  ahead  with  his  experiment. 
It  was  quite  a job  to  shell  the  seeds,  but  the 
factotnm  found  time  for  this  on  rainy  days  in  the 
late  autum,  and  when  the  light  snow  fell  the  sower 
went  forth  to  sow,  before  the  resin  had  time  to 
harden  in  the  seeds  and  interfere  with  their  fructi 
fication.  This  part  of  the  job  accomplished,  there 
was  nothing  to  do  but  wait  for  Nature  to  do  her 
part  in  furthering  the  experiment. 
Spring  came.  Op  popped  little  Oaks  and  Maples 
and  Walnuts  and  Chestnuts  that  had  been  freely 
planted  at  the  same  time  as  the  evergreens,  but  not 
a Pine  condescended  to  appear.  All  through  the 
summer  belated  nuts  were  putting  in  a tardy  ap- 
pearance, but  still  no  Pines.  Birds  and  field-mice 
were  supposed  to  have  devoured  them,  and  we  dis- 
missed them  from  our  minds. 
A y<  ar  elapsed.  A few  unhappy  little  Pines  poked 
up  their  heads  in  sheltered  holes,  six  or  seven  of  them 
huddled  together.  We  paid  them  frequent  visits 
encouraged  them  to  live,  piled  sods  about  them  to 
shade  the  r poor  little  spines,  but  under  an  August 
sun  in  a very  dry  summer  they  withered  away.  By 
last  year  (1891)  most  of  them  had  disappeared,  and 
there  was  some  scoffing  on  my  part  and  quotation 
of  authorities  to  emphas  ze  the  fact  that  Pine-sow- 
ing was  no  good,  which  the  experimenter  bore  with 
becoming  meekness,  while  counseling  me  to  wait. 
But  this  I concluded  was  only  by  way  of  argument, 
and  because  no  man  likes  to  admit  that  he  can  be 
beaten  by  the  forces  of  nature — namely,  birds  and 
field-mice. 
But  in  this  year  of  grace,  1892,  lo  ! a miracle  took 
place  ! When  the  March  winds  had  ceased  to  blow 
and  the  snow  had  melted,  so  that  we  could  walk 
abroad  over  the  uncut  brown  grass  upon  the  hill, 
what  should  we  spy  peering  up  beside  the  withered 
Golden-rod  stalks  and  the  ghost  of  last  year's  Dai- 
sies but  thousands  of  six-inch  Pines,  rearing  their 
gallant  little  heads,  undaunted  by  the  weather, 
and  evidently  come  to  stay.  We  bailed  them  with 
shouts  of  delight— here  a clump,  there  a single  one, 
crowding  closely  in  the  mossy  spring}'  places,  more 
scattered  where  the  soil  was  thin  ; but  unmistakably 
there,  after  all  these  years  of  waiting,  evidently 
quite  at  home,  having  hidden  themselves  in  the  long 
grass  of  the  preceding  summer,  while  they  had  been 
sending  down  roots  so  far  that  when  we  try  to 
separate  some  of  the  denser  groups  it  is  really  hard 
to  dig  them  up  with  a trowel  without  injuring  their 
fibres. 
My  scientific  companion  magnanimously  forbore 
to  triumph  ; indeed,  the  proud  result  was  as  unex- 
pected to  him  as  to  me,  and  was  so  gratifying  that 
could  afford  to  accept  it  with  cjuiet  satisfaction. 
*5 1 
Some  of  these  little  trees,  in  a spot  sheltered 
from  the  north-east  wind  by  a clump  of  tall  Birches, 
have  attained  respectable  proportions,  so  that  we 
ventured  to  move  them  into  separate  holes.  Though 
taken  up  on  a cool  evening  with  a ball  ot  earth,  and 
apparently  no  disturbance  of  their  roots,  the  perverse 
things  wilt  and  hang  down  their  heads  as  if  they 
were  ready  to  misbehave,  which  they  have  no  ex- 
cuse for  doing.  On  one  evening  we  moved  twenty- 
five  very  little  ones,  which  all  grew  in  one  hole, 
and  most  of  them  bore  it  very  amiably,  though  some 
of  them  perished.  As  these  would  have  died  any 
way,  if  left  alone  iu  the  struggle  for  the  survival 
of  the  fittest  in  that  little  space,  we  bore  their  loss 
as  well  as  we  could,  though  I must  admit  that  your 
true  planter  cannot  see  the  death  of  one  seedling  with 
indifference,  which  gives  a new  meaning  to  the  text 
that  “ not  a sparrow  falleth  to  the  ground  without 
His  knowledge."  If  he  who  plants  mourns  the  failure 
of  one  tiny  seed,  it  helps  to  the  understanding  of 
the  Creator’s  interest  in  all  the  creautures  into 
w'hich  He  has  breathed  the  breath  of  life,  for,  after 
all,  those  of  us  who  struggle  to  bring  to  birth  or 
to  keep  in  existence  some  germ  of  vegetation  ap- 
proach the  great  mysteries  of  being,  and  feel  that 
we  have  a hand  in  it. 
Our  corner  in  Pines  teaches  us  a brave  lesson. 
Our  joy  in  our  little  wood-lot,  with  its  fairy  trees, 
is  the  greater  for  being  long  delayed.  What  comes 
easily  never  has  the  zest  of  the  pleasure  that  is  waited 
for.  We  value  a result  by  the  difficulties  of  its 
achievement,  the  triumph  of  its  success.  An  acre, 
of  unsown  Daisies  is  a trial,  while  a square  foot  of 
planted  Pines  is  a satisfaction,  showing  that  a longed- 
for  and  slowly- reached  result  is  in  itself  a reward. 
Our  Pines  represent  the  achievement  of  birth  after- 
long  and  almost  hopeless  waiting.  It  is  not  so  much 
the  thought  of  the  majestic  forest  that  consoles  as 
the  assured  fact  that  the  unstayable  seed  has  started 
and  that  it  has  a future  before  it.  Under  the  old 
tree  we  sit  and  look  back;  it  represents  shelter  and 
repose  and  peaceful  satisfaction  Beside  the  seedling 
in  its  various  stages  we  stand  and  watch ; iu  it  is 
hope,  a future,  a long  look  forward.  Age  and  youth; 
in  each  an  interest  and  a joy.  In  one  the  delight 
of  fruition,  in  the  other  the  splendid  promise  of 
birth  and  growth.  In  the  establishment  of  a trea 
for  coming  generations  there  is  an  unselfish  delight. 
It  is  not  our  own  reward  we  seek,  but  we  lend  our- 
selves to  the  great  forward  movement  of  life,  and 
in  that  creative  instinct  feel  ourselves  elevated  and 
enlarged,  at  one  with  mighty  forces  which  we  cannot 
understand,  but  of  which  we  can  avail  ourselves  by 
directing  their  vivifying  course. 
It  is  this  linking  of  the  humblest  with  the  greatest 
that  lifts  existence  above  the  commonplace ; that 
gives  to  the  philosopher,  the  poet  and  the  artist  an 
ever  new  meaning  and  joy  in  the  common  things 
of  the  earth,  which,  to  him  who  reads  aright,  are 
fraught  with  significance.  To  the  thinker,  as  to  the 
poet,  the  simplest  things  serve  as  types  which  re- 
present the  infinite  ; to  them  the  humble  is  the  high, 
the  microscope  as  inspiring  as  the  telescope,  since 
each  reveals  new  worlds  to  the  imagination.  The 
seed  contains  the  germ  of  the  tree.  One  Pine-cone 
in  time  will  produce  a forest,  for  the  progression 
is  geometrical.  One  acre  of  ground  faithfully  studied 
gives  one  the  key  to  the  problem  of  the  universe  ; 
helps  to  a recognition  of  the  miracle  of  creation, 
and,  rightly  valued,  affords  perpetual  food  for  the 
intelligence,  while  supplying  the  body  with  lively 
exercise. 
From  our  corner  in  Pines  we  win  hope,  amusement 
and  patience.  It  opens  for  us  a window  into  the 
future  and  an  outlook  into  the  immensities ; it  links 
us  with  a hereafter  we  shall  not  live  to  see ; with 
a generation  by  whom  our  names  shall  be  forgotten, 
and  proves  to  us  the  truth  of  that  vision  of  the 
poet,  in  which  he  sees  that 
The  whole  round  earth  is  every  way 
Bound  by  gold  chains  about  the  feet  of  God. 
Hingham,  Mass.  M.  C.  Robbins, 
—Garden  and  -t’oreet* 
