Ohio Arbor Day 1913: Arbor and Bird Day Manual | Page 6

said afore, sech things as these-- The flowers, the birds, and the bumble bees, And a-livin' out here among the trees, Where you can take your ease and do 's you please-- Make it better'n in the city.
Now, all the talk don't 'mount to snuff 'Bout this kinder life a-being rough, And I'm sure it's plenty good enough, And 'tween you and me, 'taint as tough-- As livin' in the city.
--Selected.
* * * * *
"The woods were made for hunters of dreams, The streams for fishers of song; To those who hunt thus, go gunless for game, The woods and the streams belong."
[Illustration: A SOLITARY GIANT THAT WILL SOON DISAPPEAR.]

DAME NATURE'S RECIPE (APRIL).
Take a dozen little clouds And a patch of blue; Take a million raindrops, As many sunbeams, too.
Take a host of violets, A wandering little breeze, And myriads of little leaves Dancing on the trees.
Then mix them well together, In the very quickest way, Showers and sunshine, birds and flowers, And you'll have an April day.
--Selected.

THE GROUSE.
HATTIE WASHBURN, GOODWIN, S.D.
"The grouse is a very fine bird." The sentence leaped out of the conversation and caught my wandering attention. With a quick smile I looked toward our rather corpulent guest across the table. I love birds, and a word in their praise ever fills me with pleasure, not alone because one delights in the praise of whatever he cherishes, but because the expression of such a sentiment indicates that the speaker is one who will befriend the birds or at least leave them unmolested.
"Take them when they are properly prepared," our guest continued, and I lowered my eyes to my plate in disgust. He appreciated their value only as a palatable dish to feed his fat body or possibly as a target for his gun.
Such is the general attitude, it would seem, toward the grouse family, from the ruffled grouse of the wooded portions of the Eastern States to the prairie chicken of our vast plains, the dusky grouse of the mountain regions of the West and all their related species.
The drumming of the ruffled grouse so harmoniously breaking the stillness of the woodland is dear to the nature-lover; no sound is more characteristic of the prairies than the prairie chicken's melodious booking that echoes afar like the low notes of a vast organ; the dusky grouse's booming call, that may seem to come from a distance even when the bird is near by, has its place in the great symphony of nature, yet these musical sounds are being steadily and relentlessly silenced by the gun of the sportsman. By this silencing that costs the lives of countless hundreds of innocent and harmless birds, the agriculturist is being robbed of one of his most powerful allies in the endless battle against insects.
Nature has given the grouse tribe large, palatable bodies and characteristics which render them easy marks for the hunter, with only zest enough to the quest to make these birds what sportsmen call "good game." She has also endowed the grouse with food habits which should cause them to live and multiply under the protection of man. The former characteristics, however, seem most strongly to attract mankind in general, and the grouse is known as game rather than the insect-eating bird that it is.
Laws have been made for the protection of the pinnated grouse, or prairie chicken, and others of their tribe. These laws have been enforced and have aided materially in the great work of bird-protection. They have also, it is regrettable to state, been violated and ignored. Too often the land owner is too lenient; being blinded to his own interests or being keenly alive to the need of protecting the grouse within his realm, is powerless to act because of lack of evidence.
The prairie hen nests upon the ground, choosing her own nesting site, performing the duties of incubation, and rearing her young unaided by the cock. There are few wooers in bird-life so ardent as the pinnated grouse, yet he that joins in the mating ceremony of booming morning after morning on some chosen booming-ground or fiercely contests with other males for the favor of the chosen one deserts her soon after the winning.
Thus the eggs and young, having only one protector, are unduly exposed. Since they are always on the ground until the young are able to fly their loss is great. It is estimated that half of the prairie hens' eggs are destroyed by fire, water and other causes. Wet seasons are very injurious to the prairie chicks, and at all times they are in danger from skunks and other prowlers, save through the cunning and courageous protection of their devoted mother.
These unavoidable dangers should appeal to the farmer to render the prairie chicken his kindness and protection whenever he can. He