148 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[April, 
Let Us All Celel»rate„ 
Every boy and girl who lias eyes to read and ears to 
hear, by this time knows that this is the Centennial year, 
in which the United States are 100 years old. They have 
also heard that the particular birth-day, July 4th, will be 
celebrated everywhere.as it has 
never been before, and that the 
whole country will honor the 
year by an Exhibition at Phila¬ 
delphia, which will be grander 
than tlie world has ever before 
seen, and to which all the rest 
of the world has been invited. 
But all the boys and girls can 
not go to the great show at 
Philadelphia, and as for the 
Fourth of July, they celebrate 
that every year as much as they 
can. Now, I have a way to pro¬ 
pose, by which nearly all of our 
boys, and girls too, can cele¬ 
brate the Centennial year in the 
very best manner. It is- simply 
this,' let each one — or each 
family of children—plant a tree 
to be known as their Centennial 
Tree! This idea is not mine— 
I wish it was—but I was re¬ 
minded of it by a letter of the 
governor of Michigan to the 
people of his state, in which he 
says: 11 On Saturday, the 15th 
day of April next, I urge upon 
every citizen of this state who 
owns a piece of God’s ground— 
whether it be large or small, 
whether in ci ty or country, town 
or village—to plant a tree that 
our children and our children’s 
children may know and remem¬ 
ber as the tree planted by pa¬ 
triotic hands in the first centen¬ 
nial year of the republic.” 
This is to citizens, meaning old 
folks. I do better than the 
governor, for I advise the young 
folks to plant a tree. The 15th 
of April will be a convenient day for Michigan, but not for 
Georgia, so I say never mind the day, but plant your Cen¬ 
tennial tree on any day, but be sure and plant it. Just 
think ’now grand it will be when you get to be men and 
women, to point out to your children the tree you planted 
to celebrate the Centennial year when you were young; 
and when yju return after a long absence, for you will 
not always stay on the old place, no matter what changes 
there may have been, there will be the dear old Centen¬ 
nial tree to welcome you back. As to the kind of tree, 
that will depend upon where you live; while some of 
you will plant an oak.or an elm, my youngsters in the 
Sandwich Islands will no doubt choose a Bread-fruit, and 
the little Americans in Japan may take a Gingko ; you 
must ask your parents which tree will be best, but you 
want one that will be sure to grow, and be long-lived, so 
that your children and grand-children may sit under it at 
tne next Centennial. The idea of Governor Bagley is a 
capital one, and I am sure you will think that The Doctor 
has improved upon it. So let all the youngsters who can 
plant their Centennial Trees. 
---* ->-—a®*—-- -- 
A Mini “As HSc«l as Ulre.” 
George T. II. says : “Every spring we see in the ever¬ 
greens, near our house, a bright red bird, which seems 
very shy. When seen among the dark green leaves of the 
firs and arbor-vitses, it looks as red as fire. After a few 
days it goes away, and is not seen again until next spring. 
It appears to have a good deal of black about its wings, 
but it does not keep still long enough for ns to get a good 
look at it. Can you tell from this -what it is?”—We 
think that the bird is most likely the Scarlet Tanager, 
which other people have noticed was “ as red as fire,” as 
“ Fire-bird ” is one of its common names. However, here 
is a portrait of the male Scarlet Tanager, and you can 
tell if it is like your bird or not; only you must know 
that the picture is only about half the natural size; the 
body is bright scarlet, and the wings and tail are velvety 
black. If we could only print his real colors, yon would 
say he was a very gay bird. It is with this as with other 
birds, the male wears all the fine clothing; if you were to 
see the hen bird, you would not think she was the mate 
of such a gay fellow as this, for she wears no scarlet; she 
contents herself with olive, green, brown, and such mod¬ 
est colors, with a little yellow for variety. Probably the 
reason that you see them only fora few days in the spring, 
is that they have just arrived from their winter home in 
south, and are doing a little house-hunting before they 
settle. They do not often build near dwellings, but 
choose a tree in the woods, especially near swamps, and 
when they have once fixed upon a place, they leave your 
evergreens, which gave them shelter for a few days, and 
go to their new home, and are apt to keep out of sight. 
They make a very poor nest, one that will hardly hold 
together, of twigs of various kinds, and line it with fine 
roots and pine-leaves. They are the poorest of house¬ 
builders, placing their nest on some out-stretched limb, 
15 to 20 feet from the ground, and taking so little pains 
with it, that nest and eggs are often blown off, and the 
work has to be done over again. The young birds, both 
male and female, have the plumage of the mother, and it 
is only in the second year that the young males wear their 
gay scarlet coats. The birds live upon both insects and 
berries. The males have a pleasant song like that of the 
robin, and both have a different call and alarm note. 
This bird leaves the north early in September, and it is 
thought that they pass the winter in Central America. 
Am. AfterMOOsi’s ^HscSaief. 
BT LILA V. NORTH. 
“Now, Gerty, do you think I can trust you?” asked 
Mrs. Baldwin, leaning out of the buggy to speak to her 
little daughter. 
But we mustn’t let Gerty hear us call her little. Why, 
she was twelve years old, and her teacher said she was 
the best speller in her class. She could make bread too, 
and papa called her his housekeeper. Gerty thought 
she knew almost as much as grown up people. 
Mrs. Baldwin was going out with her husband to call 
on a sick lady, who lived quite a long way off. She ex¬ 
pected to be gone all the afternoon, and felt a little anx¬ 
ious about leaving the children, as Bridget was at the 
village, shopping, and would not be back till dark. 
“ Do you think I can trust you, dear ? ” she asked again. 
“ Why, yes, of course, mamma,” answered Gerty, a 
little impatiently, “ I’m sure I can keep Susie and Nan 
out of mischief, and Robbie always minds me, you know.” 
“Oh, don’t worry wife ; I’ll trust our housekeeper!” 
said Mr. Baldwin. “Get up, Toby!’’—and away they 
went down the road. 
“ Me want to go yidin’ too,” said little three-year-old 
Robbie, looking after the buggy with his eyes full of tears. 
“No, no, Robbie,” said Gerty, “we’ll come up in 
mother’s room, and I’ll show you pictures. Susie and 
Nan must come too.” 
Susie and Nan, the little twin girls, were very willing 
to come too, and share in whatever fun was going on. 
Gerty showed them pictures for a while, but they were 
soon tired, and wanted to “ play something.” 
“Let’s play church ! ” cried Susie, her eyes snapping 
with mischief. Susie and Nan were five years old, and 
had been to church a few times, so they knew all about it. 
“ Well, we will,” said Gerty. “ I’ll be the preacher, and 
Nan, you and Susie can be the choir. Robbie, you must 
sit very still and listen.” 
So Gerty rolled out her mother’s sewing machine for a 
pulpit, and stood behind it very gravel}’, with Robbie in 
his little chair, and Pussy on a footstool in front of her 
for congregation, and the small choir behind. 
“ We’ll sing the tivoth hymn,” said Susie, who thought 
the giving out of hymns belonged to her. 
“ Why no. Sue,” cried Gerty, “ the minister gives out 
the hymns! ” she went on, “ we will sing the three-hun- 
dredth-and-forty-first hymn: 
“ Who killed Cock Robin ? ” 
“I,” said the Sparrow, 
“ With my bow and arrow, 
I killed Cock Robin.” 
The choir sang this strange hymn in such a way, that 
kitty gave a pity’ful mieow, as though she were sorry she 
had not been there to eat Cock Robin before he was buried. 
Suddenly there was a knock down stairs at the front 
door, and Gerty left her pulpit and went down to answer 
it, telling the children to be quiet and good. But Gerty 
forgot, until she reached the bottom of the stairs, her 
mother’s often repeated charge, not to leave the-cliildren 
alone in her room, without first locking her bureau. 
“I'll not be gone a moment,” she thought, “ and I told 
them to be quiet.” 
When she opened the door, who should be there but 
her best friend, Laura Daly, come to show Gerty her 
splendid new story-book. 
“Come right into the sitting-room; mother’s out, and 
we can have a nice time all by ourselves,” said Gerty, 
seating herself comfortably on the lounge beside her 
friend, and forgetting all about her little charge upstairs. 
Meantime the congregation and choir grew tired of 
waiting for the preacher. Susie said it wasn’t a nice 
church, because they didn’t have hats and things on like 
mamma, and proposed going to the “buror” to find 
some. The drawers 
were pulled open, 
and Nan seized her 
mother’s shawl, and 
put her bonnet on 
wrong side before, 
while Sue carried off 
the Marseilles spread 
to carpet the church 
with, and Robbie 
in his hurry to reach 
the bureau, tripped 
on a folded sheet, 
and fell on the floor. 
Gerty thought of 
nothing but the new 
book, until the sound 
of wheels at the 
gate brought back her 
memory. Then she 
rushed up stairs, to 
find Robbie cutting 
a sheet in two for 
a flag, and Sue and 
Nan had given the 
cat a nice new 
velvet cape to sleep 
upon, but before she 
could say a word, her mother was beside her—such 
confusion ! The picture tells the sight which met their 
eyes. Mrs. Baldwin did not scold Gerty then, but set 
to work putting things to rights. But that night, when the 
children were in bed, Mrs. Baldwin had a long talk with 
her oldest daughter, and Gerty resolved never again to let 
pleasure tempt her to neglect what she knew was her duty. 
THE SCARLET TANAGER, OR EIRE BIRD. 
WHAT GERTY AND HER MOTHER SAW. 
