Bulletin of 
Zhc (Sarfcen Club 
of Hmertca 
July, 1917 
No. XXI 
President 
MRS. J. WILLIS MARTIN 
Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia 
Treasurer 
MRS. H. D. AUCHINCLOSS 
33 E. 67TH Street, New York and 
Newport, R. I. 
Secretary 
MRS. BAYARD HENRY 
Germantown, Philadelphia 
Librarian 
MISS ERNESTINE A. GOODMAN 
Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia 
Vice-Presidents 
MRS. ARCHIBALD D. RUSSELL 
34 E. 36TH Street, New York and 
Princeton, New Jersey 
MRS. WILLIAM CABELL BRUCE 
8 Mt. Vernon Pl., Baltimore, Md. 
and Ruxton, Md. 
MRS. FRANCIS KING 
Alma, Michigan 
MRS. JOHN E. NEWELL 
West Mentor, Ohio 
Editor 
MRS. WALTER S. BREWSTER 
iaao Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, and Lake Forest, Illinois 
The objects of this association shall be: to stimulate the knowledge and love of gardening among 
amateurs; to share the advantages of association, through conference and correspondence in this 
country and abroad; to aid in the protection of native plants and birds; and to encourage civic planting. 
Magpies in Picardy 
The magpies in Picardy 
Are more than I can tell. 
They flicker down the dusty roads 
And cast a magic spell 
On the men who march through Picardy 
Through Picardy to hell. 
(The blackbird flies with panic, 
The swallow goes like light, 
The finches move like ladies, 
The owl floats by at night; 
But the great and flashing magpie 
He flies as artists might.) 
A magpie in Picardy 
Told me secret things — 
Of the music of white feathers, 
And the sunlight that sings 
And dances in deep shadows — 
He told me with his wings. 
(The hawk is cruel and rigid, 
He watches from a height; 
The rook is slow and somber, 
The robin loves to fight; 
But the great and flashing magpie 
He flies as lovers might.) 
He told me that in Picardy. 
An age ago or more, 
While all his fathers still were eggs, 
These dusty highways bore 
Brown singing soldiers, marching out 
Through Picardy to war. 
He said that still through haos 
Works out the ancient plan, 
And two things have altered not 
Since first the world began — 
The beauty of the wild green earth 
And the bravery of man. 
(For the sparrow flies unthinking 
And quarrels in his flight. 
The heron trails his legs behind, 
The lark goes out of sight; 
But the great and flashing magpie 
He flies as poets might.) 
By a Soldier, "Somewhere in France. 
