PARK AND CEMETERY 
31 
huge boards which destroyed the appearance of the 
Dover coastline (and which, by the society’s efforts, 
have been removed) did not introduce its claims to 
the British housewife’s table, but rather ruffled her 
temper. Just as soon as people discover that some 
one is taking advantage of them, their co-operation is 
turned to segregation and the offender is summarily 
ejected. 
Scapa is clever enough to secure as signers of its 
legislative documents people whose names are of suf- 
ficient weight to make a dent in the public apathy. 
Such friends, also, as Lord Balfour, the Duke of 
Westminster, the Archbishops of Canterbury, the 
Bishops of Ely, Rochester and Petersborough, and 
many others are letters of credit to be honored and read 
with attention. 
The Society’s friends and supporters are numerous 
among the farmers and villagers, who are intensely 
MR. RICHARDSON EVANS. 
proud of their luxuriant shrubs, their carefully 
trimmed hedges, and would make kindling wood of a 
billboard that would deface the appearance of their 
property. 
Britons have always loved trees. Nearly every es- 
tate has one or more historic and venerated specimens. 
To quote from a well known writer : 
“At this season many thousands of traveling Eng- 
lishmen are roused to an exasperated consciousness 
of wrong. They leave home for something more 
than change of scene. They look for the enjoyment 
of a certain unspoilt freshness in landscape ; for the 
charm which attaches to the monuments of the past; 
for the fine effects of architecture ; and all the pic- 
turesque aspects of the haunts of men. Experience 
brings its disillusionment. Medio de fonte leporum, 
Sw'git amari aliquid. Year by year the number, the 
vividness and the size of the intrusive objects that dis- 
tress the eye increase. The sting of the injury lies 
in its wantonness. Ten hotel proprietors can kill the 
beauty of a lakeside town by sticking up monster 
boards on the skyline of their establishments ; but the 
effect is to diminish rather than increase the aggregate 
influx of guests. ‘The place’ — to quote the brief 
judgment of the passing tourist — ‘is spoilt’; and those 
whose short-sighted competition does the harm reap 
no profit.” 
The Hon. Secretary of Scapa, Richardson Evans of 
Wimbledon, is, as he affirms, a “modest man,” but 
his light is not hid under a bushel nor behind a bill- 
board. It shines upon every advertising nuisance in 
England, and its flame will burn when the mortal man 
has long been dust. It is to his untiring zeal and 
patient labor that this splendid work has been made 
possible, not only in the main association, but in the 
numerous smaller local societies that have borrowed 
its plans and started out as full-fledged civic reformers. 
One of the most successful of these children of 
Scapa is the club at Wimbledon, named for that gentle 
interpreter of Nature’s moods, John Evelyn. The club 
has accomplished radical and up-to-date improvement 
by securing a triangular piece of land, known as the 
village green, which will be preserved as an accessory 
of the Wimbledon Common, famous in the reign of 
Edward TV. The trees will be preserved and the birds 
and the flora protected. The member? of the club are 
united in an effort to secure additional vistas, view- 
points, open spaces and field paths for Wimbledon. 
Their latest ambition is a museum, where historical 
relics of this famous place, as well as archaelogical 
specimens from other localities, may be preserved. 
They are checking public advertising and the habit of 
littering public and private grounds, and are making 
arrangements for model days in the country for 
young people, who may take day excursions, suitably 
chaperoned, and upon these trips be tutored as to the 
fauna and the flora of the past and present of Wimble- 
don. These days will be a striking commentary on 
the American picnic, which takes young people to the 
country to eat, drink, tear down farmers’ fences, and, 
incidentally, swing and tear their clothes, with no 
thought of nature beyond the space in which they are 
permitted to shout and race — a privilege usually de- 
nied in city limits. 
Although the old adage runs — 
“It isn’t all in bringing up. 
Let folks say what they will ; 
You may silver shine a pewter cup. 
It will be pewter still,” 
I still believe that if our young people were taught 
from infancy to know and to love trees, shrubs and 
flowers, we should not need so many lawyers to ad- 
just claims and grant divorces, so many doctors to 
heal diseases, so many creeds to save souls. 
