2o8 
ARBOR DA Y MANUAL. 
Just then, a squirrel, who had been peeping at them from her nest in the 
hollow of a tree, jumped down and seized the chestnut in her little gray paws. 
“Good-by,” sneered the acorn, as she carried it away. “That’s the last of 
you. But, then, there is no great loss. You would have been only a chestnut 
tree, at the best. Chestnuts are good enough for squirrels.” 
But, when the squirrel had put the chestnut away in her nice little house, she 
sprang down again, seized the acorn, and carried it up too. 
“ Hello,” said the chestnut, “ here we are together again. There is little hope 
now that either of us will ever become a tree. And, as matters stand, I cannot 
see that an acorn is very much better than a chestnut after all.” 
But the acorn said nothing. 
THE ELM. 
B EAUTIFUL in her majestic grandeur, as she sends out her branches to the 
heavens, stands the American elm, a tough, hardy giant of field and for¬ 
est, its massive trunks and wide-spreading roots bidding defiance to the strong¬ 
est winds which nature can send to beat against its broad symmetrical top. 
While Englishmen eulogize the oak, and poets sing of the linden and sycamore, 
the hearts of the children of, at least, the Empire Stqte, cling with devotion to 
that tree, which marks so many important events in the history of the land they 
love. Who has not heard of the Elm at Shakamaxon, under the spreading 
branches of which William Penn made his famous treaty with the Indians, 
which was never sworn to and which stands alone as the only treaty made by 
the whites with the Indians which was never broken. For more than a century 
and a quarter, this tree stood a grand monument of this most sincere treaty 
ever made, but in 1810 it was blown down, and a monument of marble now but 
poorly marks the spot where it stood. 
It was the elm that was first consecrated to American independence, and that 
tree planted by the Boston school-master, so long before,separation from Great 
Britain was scarcely dreamed of in the colonies, and dedicated to their future 
independence, was-Jong looked upon with love and pride, and when at last it was. 
blown down, tolling bells related the story of its fall. 
It was also the elm that shaded Washington on that July 3d, 1775, when he 
took command of the American army at Cambridge, and began that long pub¬ 
lic life in which he exhibited such brilliant talents, and won for himself the de¬ 
serving title of “ Father of his Country.” 
We have been an independent nation for more than a century, but this tree 
still stands, and its massive trunk and wide-spreading branches form,a fitting 
emblem of the prosperous nation that started out, as it were, from beneath its 
shade, and in it are centered fond remembrances of our Revolutionary fathers. 
Years will pass away, and “ Providence permitting,” these trees which we plant 
to-day will have become sturdy elms. Those who are now school children will act 
their part in the theatre of life and become old men and women ; but wherever they 
are, whether they are in honor or disgrace, in prosperity or adversity, their hap¬ 
piest recollections will be centered in these childhood days, and these elms mark¬ 
ing this Arbor Day will long remain as monuments of former happy times. 
“ The StudentRichfield Springs , 1889. H. H. B. 
