PREFACE 
With the coming of the first Bluebird I am 
always eager to be standing in the very 
midst of that living gallery, a forest or grove 
of trees which holds my favorite theme: 
When the gray fades into golden sunbeams 
upon the hillside and announce it is dawn; 
when an ecstasy of melody penetrates to 
every part of the grove from the throat of that 
wonderful bird, it is then time to be thinking 
of making a Spring planting of trees. 
Without a coming generation our country 
would face a hopeless future. Just so would 
a country without trees. And since it is a 
national question we should all discuss it with 
great interest, and not as one dealt with as 
encumbrance. It is a pity everyone cannot 
see that there is always something august, 
solemn, noble and pure in the spreading 
branches of every tree. That there is some- 
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