at the top of the funnel, which drew 
up more from the cells below, the space 
so caused being continually rilled from 
the base. This is an interesting experi- 
ment and is said to solve the question, 
but it is open to the same objection, 
that a tree will not absorb fluid and 
carry it for any length of time after 
the roots are cut off. I regard it, how- 
ever as a long stride in the right direc- 
tion. 
To what source, then, must we look 
for an explanation of this process? 
I think it is a fact that the small, new 
root-fibers imbibe fluid with consider- 
able force, but it is undoubtedly a fact 
that they soon lose this force when de- 
prived of the leaves; that the leaves 
with the aid of evaporation, exert a 
great force, which the above experi- 
ment plainly indicates; and I cannot 
consistently dismiss the idea that cap- 
illary attraction has something to do 
with it. If we also add to this the the- 
ory that the swaying of the stems and 
branches by the wind is continually 
changing the shape and size of the 
cells and is thus driving the juices 
wherever an opening will allow them 
to travel, thus bringing the elasticity 
of the tree to our aid, we have again 
advanced. 
But the principle of life is not dis- 
covered. Whenever it is we may find it 
to be a force much greater than any 
we have so far examined, and which 
may even cause the overthrow of all 
theories heretofore advanced. 
EMERSON AND THE WOODPECKER STORY. 
NO squirrel works harder at his 
pine-nut harvest than the car- 
penter woodpeckers in autumn 
at their acorn harvest, says John 
Muir in the December Atlantic, drilling 
holes in the thick, corky bark of the 
yellow pine and incense cedar, in which 
to store the crop for winter use; a hole 
for each acorn so nicely adjusted as to 
size that when the acorn, point fore- 
most, is driven in, it fits so well that it 
cannot be drawn out without digging 
around it. Each acorn is thus carefully 
stored in a dry bin, perfectly protected 
from the weather, a most laborious 
method of stowing away a crop, a gran- 
ary for each kernel. Yet they never 
seem to weary at the work, but go on 
so diligently they seem determined that 
every acorn in the grove shall be saved. 
They are never seen eating acorns at 
the time they are storing them, and it 
is commonly believed that they never 
eat them or intend to eat them, but that 
the wise birds store them and protect 
them solely for the sake of the worms 
they are supposed to contain. And be- 
cause these worms are too small for use 
at the time the acorns drop, they are 
shut up like lean calves and steers, each 
in a separate stall, with abundance of 
food to grow big and fat by the time 
they will be the most wanted, that is, in 
winter, when insects are scarce and 
stall-fed worms most valuable. So 
these woodpeckers are supposed to be 
a sort of cattle-raiser, each with a 
drove of thousands, rivaling the ants 
that raise grain and keep herds of 
plant lice for milk cows. Needless to 
say, the story is not true, though some 
naturalists even believe it. When Em- 
erson was in the park, having heard the 
worm story, and seen the great pines 
plugged full of acorns, he asked (just 
to pump me, I suppose): "Why do 
woodpeckers take the trouble to put 
acorns into the bark of the trees?" 
"For the same reason," I replied, "that 
bees store honey and squirrels nuts." 
"But they tell me, Mr. Muir, that wood- 
peckers don't eat acorns." "Yes they 
do," I said. "I have seen them eating 
them. During snowstorms they seem 
to eat little besides acorns. 1 have re- 
peatedly interrupted them at their 
meals, and seen the perfectly sound, 
half-eaten acorns. They eat them in 
the shell as some people eat eggs." 
"But what about the worms?" "I sup- 
pose," I said, "that when they come to 
a wormy one they eat both worm and 
acorn. Anyhow, they eat the sound 
ones when they can't find anything they 
like better, and from the time they 
store them until they are used they 
guard them, and woe to the squirrel or 
jay caught stealing." 
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