THE FOREST. 
213 
lieve that if the experiment of leaving a few were more frequently 
tried, it would often prove successful. There is an elm of great 
size now standing entirely alone in a pretty field of the valley, its 
girth, its age, and whole appearance declaring it a chieftain of the 
ancient race — the " Sagamore elm," as it is called — and in spite 
of complete exposure to the winds from all quarters of the heav- 
ens, it maintains its place firmly. The trunk measures seventeen 
feet in circumference, and it is thought to be a hundred feet in 
height ; but this is only from the eye, never having been accu- 
rately ascertained. The shaft rises perhaps fifty feet without a 
branch, before it divides, according to the usual growth of old 
forest trees. Unfortunately, gray branches are beginning to show 
among its summer foliage, and it is to be feared that it will not 
outlast man}?- winters more ; but if it die to-morrow, we shall 
have owed a debt of many thanks to the owner of the field for 
having left the tree standing so long. 
In these times, the hewers of wood are an unsparing race. 
The first colonists looked upon a tree as an enemy, and to judge 
from appearances, one would think that something of the same 
spirit prevails among their descendants at the present hour. It 
is not surprising, perhaps, that a man whose chief object in life is 
to make money, should turn his timber into bank-notes with all 
possible speed ; but it is remarkable that any one at all aware of 
the value of wood, should act so wastefully as most men do in 
this part of the world. Mature trees, young saplings, and last 
year's seedlings, are all destroyed at one blow by the axe or by 
fire ; the spot where they have stood is left, perhaps, for a life- 
time without any attempt at cultivation, or any endeavor to foster 
new wood. One would think that by this time, when the forest 
