(I 
The American mistletoe has smaller berries 
than the scarce English variety 
There are few Christmas greens more graceful 
than sprays of the white pine 
The balls of the sweet gum are decorative 
but they drop seeds like a pepper-box 
Christmas Greens Outdoors and In 
SOME OLD FAVORITES AND A FEW NEW GREENS THAT WILL LEND 
CHEER AND ATTRACTIVENESS TO THE HOME DURING THE HOLIDAYS 
by E. O. Calvene 
Photographs by Nathan R. Graves 
C HRISTMAS greens grow—some of them—in every patch 
of woods; but very soon they will not, unless they are 
gathered less greedily in the future than they have been in the 
past. From north, south, east and west they pour into the big 
cities for a month before Christmas, so in 
every part of the land there is something 
to be had for the picking—and nearly 
everywhere the land is robbed. 
Before we go on to find out what we 
may gather, let us declare against the 
further sacrifice of a single branch of that 
loveliest of American wildings, the moun¬ 
tain laurel. Those who know say that 
this glory of the Eastern hills is in greater 
danger of extermination than any other 
plant, for what with the depredations of 
those who seek its wood for the manu¬ 
facture of various articles, those who seek 
its leaves in summer that the fruiterer 
may trim his wares, and those who seek 
its leaf and branch in winter for the 
making of Christmas ropes by the mile, 
it has no chance at any season. And to 
make the tragedy more sure, laurel is a 
slow-growing plant. 
So if you love it—and who does not? 
—leave it, and guard it from the less 
scrupulous with the utmost power and 
persuasion at your command. Counting 
all the cone-bearing trees as one kind 
of green, the American market yields fifteen varieties. Surely, 
with such an assortment, we can deny ourselves the laurel. 
The extravagant use of club moss or ground pine — which is 
not a pine at all, by the way, but what botanists call a “fern 
ally” — is making this more and more rare 
in woods that are accessible. Still you 
may come across it, possibly, trailing its 
sinuous way over the muck of deep woods 
or swamps. Gather it in moderation with 
a clear conscience, for it will keep abreast 
of such harvesting even though what is 
taken must come up roots and all. It 
is the reckless plucking and scouring of 
the woods such as the Indian pickers in 
the Northwest practice, which wrings the 
penalty of “No more!” from outraged 
Nature. 
Nothing can quite take the place of 
this graceful, vine-like green for garlands 
and festoons, yet very lovely effects may 
be obtained with garlands made of small 
evergreen branches bound along a cord or 
rope. The exquisite feathery white pine 
of almost any bit of woodland, sprays of 
cedar or spruce or fir — all these lend 
themselves to such handling and may be 
readily used with a little patience and 
taste to guide the binding. 
One advantage of this sort of thing 
is that it need sacrifice nothing, literally. 
Do not torture holly and stiff branching plants 
into wreaths — stand them in jars 
(202) 
