The Sunday Oregonian., November 09, 1913, SECTION SIX, Page 4, Image 72

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THE SUNDAY OREGOXIATT, IORTTLANI, NOVEMBER 9 1913.
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HAPPY DAYS AT SAGAMOBE. HILL. . ' ' ' '''T: -iC , . : I .
V V I i f ""St! w-w- V ill
i
HERE are. men who love out oil the boys to pull an extra pair of oars;
doors who vet never oten a book: we land for lunch at noon under wind-
and other men who love books
but to whom the gTeat book ot nature
Is a sealed volume, and, the lines writ
ten therein blurred and Illegible.
Nevertheless, among those men whom
I have known, the love of books and
the love of outdoors, in their highest
expressions, have usually gone hand in
hand. It is an affectation for the man
who is praising outdoors to sneer at
books. Usually the keenest apprecia
tion of what is seen in nature is to be
found in those who have also profited
by the hoarded and recorded wisdom of
their fellow men. Love of outdoor life,
love of simple and hardy pastimes, can
be gratified by men and women who
do not possess large means, and who
work hard; and so can love of good
books not of good bindings and of first
editions, excellent enough in their way
but sheer luxuries I mean love of
reading books, owning them if possible
of course, but, if that is not possible,
Setting them from a circulating library.
The Home on the Top of the Hill.
Sagamore Hill takes its name from
the old Sagamore Mohannls, who, as
chief of his little tribe, signed away his
rights to the land two '""turles and a
half ago. The house stands right on
the top of the hill, separated by fields
and belts of woodland from all other
houses, and looks out over the bay and
the Sound. We see the sun go down
beyond long reaches of land and of
water. Many birds dwell In the
trees round the house or in the
pastures and the woods near by, and
of course In Winter, gulls, loons and
wild fowl frequent the waters of the
bay and the Sound. We love all the
reasons: the snows and bare woods of
Winter; the rush of growing things
and the blossom-spray of Spring; the
yellow grain, the ripening fruits and
tasseled corn, and the deep, leafy
shades that are heralded by "the green
dance of Summer"; and the sharp Fall
winds that tear the brilliant banners
with which the trees greet the dying
year.
The Flowers About Sagamore Hill,
The Sound is always lovely. In the
Summer nights we watch it from the
piazza, and see the lights of the tall
Kail River boats as they steam steadily
by. Now and then we spend a day on
It, the two of us together in the light
rowing skiff, or perhaps with one of
beaten oaks on the edge of a low bluff,
or among the wild plum bushes on a
spit of white sand, while the sails of
the coasting schooners gleam in t
sunlight, and the tolling of the bell-
buoy comes landward a " the waters.
Long Island is not as rich in flowers
as the "Valley of the Hudson. Yet there
are many. Early in April there is one
hillside near us which glows like a
tender flame with the white of the
bloodroot. About the same time we
find the shy mayflower, the trailing
arbutus; and, although we rarely pick
wild flowers, one member of the house
hold always plucks a little bunch of
mayflowers to send to b friend work
ing in Panama, whose soul hungers for
the northern Spring. Then there are
shadblow and delicate anemones, about
the time of the cherry blossoms; the
brief glory of the apple orchard fol
lows; and then the thronging dogwoods
fill the forests with their radiance; and
so flowers follow flowers until the
springtime splendor closes with the
laurel and the evanescent honey-sweet
locust bloom. The late Summer flow,
ers follow, the flaunting lilies, and car
dinal flowers, and marshmallows, and
pale beach rosemary; and the golden
rod and the asters when the after-
noons shorten and we again begin to
think of fires in the wide fireplace.
Our Bird Keiffhbora.
Most of the birds in our neighbor
hood are the ordinary home friends of
the house and the barn, the wood lot
and the pasture; but now and then the
species make queer shifts. The cheery
quail, alas! are rarely found near us
now; and we no longer hear the whip
poorwills at night. But some birds visit
us now which formerly did not. When
I was a boy neither the black-throated
green warbler nor the purple finch
nested, around us, nor were bobolinks
found in our fields. The black-throat
ed green warbler is now one of our
commonost Summer warblers; there
are plenty of purple finches; and, best
of all, the bobolinks axe far from In
frequent. I had writtton about these
new visitors to John Burroughs and
once when be came out to see me I
was able to show them to him.
Our Flying Squirrels.
When I was President we owned a
little house in Western Virginia, a de
lightful house, to us at least, although
only a shell of rough boards. We used
sometimes to go there in the Fall, per
haps at Thanksgiving, and on these
occasions we would have quail and
rabbits of our own shooting, and once
in a while a wild turkey. We also
went there In the Spring. Of course
many of the birds were different from
our Long Island frfends. There were
mocking birds, the most attractive of
all birds, and blue grosbeaks and car
dinals and Summer redbirds instead of
scarlet tanagers, and those wonderful
singers, the Bewick's wrens and Caro
lina wrens. All these I was able to
show John Burroughs when he came
to visit us; although, by the way, he
did not appreciate as much as we did
one set of inmates of the cottage the 1
flying squirrels. We loved having the
flying squirrels, father and mother and
half-grown young, in their nest among
the rafters; and at night we slept so
soundly that we did not in. the least
mind the wild gambols of the little
fellows through the rooms, even when.
as sometimes happened, they would
swoop down, to the bed and scuttle
across it.
In the Yellomrtone With John Bur
ro aghs.
One April I went to Yellowstone
Park, when the snow was still very
deep, and I took John Burroughs with
me. I wished to show him the big
game of the park and the wild crea
tures that have become so astonish
ingly tame and tolerant of human
presence. In the Yellowstone the ani
mals seem always to behave as one
wishes them to! It is always possible
to see the sheep and deer and ante
lope and also the great herds of elk.
which are shyer than the smaller
beasts. In April we found the elk
weak after the short commons and
hard living of Winter. Once without
much difficulty I regularly rounded up
a big band of them, so that John Bur
roughs could look at them. I do not
think, however, that he cared to see
them as much as I did. The birds in
terested him more, especialy a tiny
owl the size of a robin which we saw
perched on the top of a tree in mid
afternoon, entirely uninfluenced by the
sun and making a queer noise like a
cork being pulled from a bottle. I was
rather ashamed to find how much bet
ter his eyes were than mine In seeing
the birds and grasping their differ
ences. The Bear-Hunters' Dinner.
When wolf-hunting in Texas and
when bear-hunting in Louisiana and
Mississippi, I was not only enthralled
by the sport, but also by the strange
new birds and other creatures, and the
trees and flowers I had not known be
fore. By the way, there was one feast
at the White House which stands above
all others in my memory even above
tho time when I lured Joel Chandler
Harris thither for a night, a deed in.
which to triumph, as all who knew
that inveterately shy recluse will tes
tify. This was the ' "bear-hunters'
dinner." I had been treated so kindly
by my friends on these hunts and they
were such fine fellows, men whom I
was so proud to think of as Americans,
that I set my heart on having them at
a hunters' dinner at the White House.
One December I succeeded; there were
20 or 30 of them, all told, as good
hunters, as daring riders, as first-class
citizens as could be found anywhere;
no finer set of guests ever sat at meat
in the White House; and among other
game on tne taDie was a DiacK Dear,
Itself contributed by one of these same
guests.
With John Mulr In the Yosemlte.
When I first visited California, it
was my good fortune to see the "big
trees," the Sequoias, and then to travel
down into the Yosemlte with John
Muir. Of course of all people in the
world he was the one with whom it
was best worth while thus to see the
Yosemlte. He told me that when Em
erson came to California he tried to
get him to come out and camp with
him, for that was the only way in
which to see at their best the majesty
and charm of the Sierras. But at the
time Emerson was getting old and
could not go. John, Muir met me with
a couple of packers and two mules to
carry our tent, bedding) and food for a
three days' trip. The first night was
clear, and we lay down in the darken
ing isles of the great Sequoia grove.
The majestic trunks, beautiful in col
or and in symmetry, rose round us
Mke the pillars of a mightier cathe
dral than ever was conceived even by
the fervor of the Middle Ages. Her
mit thrushes sang beautifully in the
evening, and again, with a burst of
wonderful music, at dawn. I was in
terested and a. little surprised to find
that, unlike John Burroughs, John
Muir cared little for birds or bird
songs, and knew little about them. The
hermit thrushes meant nothing to him,
the trees and the flowers and the cliffs
everything. The only birds he noticed
or cared for were some that were very
conspicuous, sucb as the water-ousels
always particular favorites of mine.
too. The second night we camped in a
snow storm, on the edge of the canyon
walls, under the spreading limbs of a
grove of mighty silver firs: and next
day we went down into the wonderland
of the valley Itself. I shall alway? be
glad that I was in the Yosemlte with
John Muir and in the Yellowstone with
John Burroughs.
With Sir Edward Grey In ' the New
Forest . ' "
Like most Americans interested in
birds and books. I knew a good deal
about English birds as they appear in
books. I know the lark of Shakespeare
and Shelley and the Ettrick Shepherd;
I know the nightingale of Milton and
Keats; I know Wordsworth's cuckoo;
I know mavis and merle singing in
the merry green wood of the old bal
lads; I know Jenny Wren and Cock
Robin of the nursery books. There
fore I had always much desired to
hear the birds in real life; and the op
portunity offered in June, 1910, when
I spent two or three weeks in Eng
land. As I could snatch but a few
hours from a very exacting round of
pleasures and duties, it was necessary
for me to be with some companion
who could identify both song and
singer. In Sir Edward Grey, a keen
lover of outdoor life in all its phases.
and a delightful companion, who
knows the songs and ways of English
birds as very few do know them, I
found the best possible guide.
We left London on the morning ot
June 9, 24 hours before I sailed from
Southampton. Getting off the train at
Basingstoke, we drove to the pretty,
smiling valley of the Itchen. Here we
tramped) for three or four hours, then
again drove, this time to the edge of
the New Forest, where we first took
tea at an inn and then tramped
through the 'forest to an inn on its
other side, at Brockenhurst. At the
conclusion of our walk my companion
made a list of the birds we had seen,
putting an asterisk () opposite those
which we had heard sing. There were
41 of the former and 23 of the latter.
as follows:
Thrush, blackbird, iark, yellow
hammer. robin, 'wren, golden-crested
wren, goldfinch, 'chaffinch, 'green
finch, pied wagtail, sparrow, 'dunnock
(hedge accentor), missel thrush, star
ling, rook, jackdaw, "blackcap, 'garden
warbler, willow warbler, chlffchaff,
wood warbler, tree-creeper, reed
bunting, 'sedge warbler, coot, water
hen, little grebe (dabchick), tufted
duck, wood pigeon, stock dove, turtle'
dove, peewit, tit (?coal tit), 'cuckoo,
nightjar, 'swallow, martin, swift,
pheasant, partridge.
Keep, Not Kill.
The valley of the Itohen Is typically
the England that we know from novel
and story and essay. It is very beau
tiful in every way, with a rich, civi
lized, fertile beauty the rapid green
of trees and grass, the stately woods,
the gardens and fields, the exceedingly
picturesque cottages, the great hand
some houses standing in their parks.
Birds were plentiful; I know but few
places in America where one would
see such an abundance of individuals,
and I was struck by seeing Buch large
birds as coots, water hens, grebes,
tufted ducks, pigeons and peewits. In
places in America as thickly settled as
the valley of the Itchen I should not
expect to see any like number of birds
of this size; but I hope that the efforts
of the Audubon Societies and kindred
organizations will gradually make
themselves felt until it becomes a point
of honor not only with the American
man, but with the American small boy.
to shield and protect all forms of
harmless wild life. True sportsmen
should take the lead in such a move
ment, for if there is to be any shoot
ing there must be something to shoot;
the prime necessity is to keep, and not
kill out, even the birds which In legiti
mate numbers may be shot.
The New Forest is a wild, uninhab
ited stretch of heath and woodland,
many of the trees gnarled and agedi,
and its very wildness, the lack of culti
vation, the ruggedness, ma-e It strong
ly attractive in my eyes, and suggested
by own country. The birds of course
were much less plentiful than beside
the Itchen.
(To be continued next Sunday.)
Difficult Standards.
(Washington Star.)
"Are your views on currency going
to be satisfactory to your constit
uents?" "No hope of it!" replied Senator
Sorghum. "I have a lot of constituents
who wouldn't be satisfied with any
kind of a currency system that didn't
enable a man to get six one-dollar bills
in change for a five."
Some "Wonderful Heat Pointers for Blondes
I
T'S easy to keep cool and not mind
are some hints from an English phy
sician. "Being cool," he says, "is
largely a condition of mind. Keep still,
watch what you eat and drink, avoid
meat, ventilate your clothes as well
as your home, bathe freely and avoid
extremes of heat and cold in the wa
ter. Kill the fly and don't get chilled
at night.
"If you are a blonde, avoid the bright
lights, because they are rich in chem
ical ether waves. In persons that have
considerable pigment in their skins -in
brunettes these short, rapid, ac
titnic waves are transformed into long
and slow heat waves. These actinic
waves have a deleterious effect on the
nervous system of those whose skin
cannot reduce their potency.
"Blondes should avoid sunlight as
much as possible, and when they do go
out they should wear colored glasses,
hats with orange lining and their
clothes outside should be white, to re
flect the heat rays. Their underwear
should be colored, preferably orange or
blue. This is to protect the skin."
A "Much Harder Substance Than a Diamond
I
N one respect the diamond has al
ways stood pre-eminent in the min
eral world that of hardness. Other
substances have rivaled It in beauty,
and at least one, the ruby, outranks it
in cost, but none in. the whole list
equals it in hardness.
Since the invention of the electric
furnace, however, which is capable of
producing a heat equal to 7001) degrees
Fahrenheit, at last two products have
been prepared which have supplanted
the diamond even in hardness.
Experimenters have succeeded in
producing titanium in the electric fur
nace. In its pure form it is much
harder than steel or quartz, and when
combined with silicon to form a siliclde
of titanium, or with boron to form a
boride of titanium, it surpasses the
diamond Itself in this quality.
The Different Effects of Flour on the Teeth
A
S a proof that bread made of Toller
flour has a deleterious effect on
the teeth, a London physician quotes
the condition of the teeth of the people
of Jersey and of the peasants of Nor
mandy and Brittany.
"The people of Jersey," he says, "have
very carious teeth, and as a race are
not as tall or of as fine physique as
the Normans and Bretons. The peasants
of Normandy and Brittany have well
developed jaws and very sound teeth.
"Thus we see peoplp descended from
the same stock, living under very simi
lar conditions, some of whom have very
carious teth and the others have very
sound teeth.
"The people of Jersey eat bread made
from roller flour and the peasants of
Normandy and Brittany eat bread com
posed of stone-made flour."
The Human Thumb is a Great Brain Gauge
THE fact that there is what is known
as the "thumb center" In the brain,
recognized by all surgeons, demon
strates the Immense importance at
tached to the thumb by medical science.
If there is a tendency toward
paralysis, the physician notes it in the
thumbs long before the malady shows
Itself in other directions. An opera
tion to avert the calamity, if possible,
is frequently performed on the "thumb
center" of the brain, and the thumb
itself is watched for results favorable
or otherwise.
It is a matter of record that the
thumbs of idiots and those mentally
weak are undersized, characterless, and
usually cling closely to the side of the
hand.
41 13'T.TW
.--rMKM
mmm
PIC
KI
THERE was a young man who
loved himself very dearly. He was
fond of looking in the mirror, and
he used to make wagers with himself
that the letter I was the best bet in
the alphabet.
His mother always hoped that he
would grow up to be a good plumber,
but the young man knew he was fit
ted for higher things.
His father had a notion that he
would be an excellent blacksmith, but
as his lungs were weak, they decided
to consult a Vooationallst.
Accordingly they consulted the best
Vocationally in America, and the wise
man began by asking questions, to
wit: "Has he a kind and generous dispo
sition?" "Doa't kl4 ua," said tUo lithe ead.
NG APROFE
BY ARTHUR JAM E5"
S510N
ly. "We are paying for this advice."
"Has he a good digestion?"'
"No," returned the mother. "He is
a chronio sufferer; but I don't see "
"Answer my questions," said the Vo
cationalist, 'Vion't volunteer. Would
the young man cut off a rabbit's ears
for the sport of it?"
"I'm afraid he would," admitted the
father.
"Can he strut and assume an air of
heavy solemnity?"
"Oh! yes, indeed," they replied in
concert. "He's great at that."
"Is his mind shallow, his manner
flippant and self-satisfied?"
"Why, who's been talking to you?"
Inquired th.a zaotoer .
"Never mind," commanded the Voca
tlonalist, "let me continue. Has he
any especial knowledge of literature,
art or the drama?"
"Oh! no, Indeed," responded the
father, with a touch of pride. "Ye
can't say that of him."
"Well, then, is his voice effeminate,
does he seem a bit Billy to the neigh
bors? Can he talk like a tidy or a
knitted doily?"
"I'm 'fraid so," assented the honest
father.
"But tell me," and here the voice of
the Vocationalist became searching
and severe, "tell me frankly, can he
s&x mean, things rjadUg ggd. without
cause? Can he become abusive in a
high tenor voice? Would he-do any
thing in the world to have the neigh
bors think he was a smart fellow?
"By ginger," exploded the father,
"this man ihas been a-watchln" our
Harry."
"Well, then," obviously recapitulated
the Vocationalist. "I must say, my
good people, you are to be congratu
lated. I was afraid at the start your
son might prove too intelligent, or
frank, or perhaps that he might have
fallen a victim to the vice of kindli
ness. I am satisfied to find that your
son meet3 all the requirements.
"Unhesitatingly I say to you that
you will m to ba proud, ot him,
already is a nearly finished product.
Your son is destined to be one of, if
not the greatest of, dramatic critics."
Seeking Safety.
(Washington Star.)
There's one favor I want to ask,"
said Air. Cumrox to his wife.
"What is it?"
"Don't invite any distinguished Rus
sians to our parties unless they are
Dukes."
"Why?"
"Because 'duke' is the only part of a
distinguished Russian's name that lean
be Bure of remembering."
Poet and Essayist.
Life.
"Boy, you ought to know better than
to beg from a poet." "Please, sir, lather
U aa. waylay'
i. .ii nirmniirairYaSi-ra
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