Ip6 
THE GUIDE TO NATURE 
as he received it from the people. To 
them all he radiated love. 
Few business men of his great ability 
have so gentle and modest a bearing. 
He never seemed aggressive, but was 
always boyish in the continued youth- 
fulness of his heart. His outlook upon 
life was bright. In his death we lose 
one of our best friends. 
Death of John Lewis Childs. 
John Lewis Childs of Floral Park, 
Long Island. New York, died while 
asleep in a berth on a Pullman of a 
New York Central train from Albany 
on Saturday morning, March 5. When 
he retired Friday evening he was ap- 
parently in his usual good health. 
Mr. Childs was in his sixty-fifth year 
and had been a florist in Long Island 
since the age of seventeen. He was 
widely known through his interest in 
horticulture and also through his gen- 
eral interest in nature study. He was 
an all-round naturalist and a royal good 
fellow. His death brought sorrow to 
many. 
We of The Agassiz Association ex- 
tend to members of the family our 
heartfelt sympathy. 
Death of Dr. Rudolph Menger. 
We are pained to announce the death 
of Dr. Rudolph Menger of San Antonio, 
Texas. The information sent to us does 
not give the exact date of the death. 
He was an occasional contributor to 
The Guide to Nature and well-known 
to the Members of The Agassiz Asso- 
ciation as an earnest and devoted nat- 
uralist. He was the author of articles 
in many publications and of a book, 
“Texas Nature Observations and Remi- 
niscences,” dealing with insects and 
quadrupeds of the state. We extend 
sympathy to relatives and the members 
of the family.. 
Evanescent April. 
April now is here, 
Sweetest time o’ year: 
Sparkling with her showers. 
Fragrant with her flowers. 
Vocal with her birds, 
(Too rapturous for words!) 
Golden with her sunshine, 
Silver with her moon, 
Cool in early morning, 
Summer-like ere noon; 
Fairyland at night, 
Paradise by day, 
She has one fault alone, — 
She will not with us stay! 
— Emma Peirce. 
FULFILMENT. 
When I have passed and shall be known no more 
Among the living, then let my spirit blend 
To unison with the forests I have loved. 
Let my voice lost in the sighing of the winds 
Through fragrant pines. Let my fleeting soul 
That in its life adored all beauty, bloom 
Eternally in the forms of swaying flowers. 
Let the surging ocean speak my heart’s desires, 
Its hopes unfilled, aspirations unexpressed. 
Let my form be brother to the cold insensate rock 
And the soil that nourishes some later life. 
Let no one mourn or say, “He is no more,” 
Let them seek instead the Nature I have loved. 
And hearing the voices of the wild, free winds — 
Seeing the faces of the countless flowers — 
And the heaving ocean’s vast and grey expanse, 
Let them say, “Lo ! he lives once more 
In the soul of all that he so loved in life.” 
Harold Gordon Hawkins. 
Provincetown, Mass. 
