So he kept traveling, far and wide, 'Till his old limbs failed him and he died.

He said, at last: "'Tis a comfort to feel I've done some good in the world, though not a great deal."

Weary travelers journeying West, In the shade of his trees find pleasant rest, And often they start with glad surprise At the rosy fruit that around them lies.

And if they inquire whence came such trees Where not a bough once swayed in the breeze?

The reply still comes as they travel on, "These trees were planted by Appleseed John."

(_From "Appleseed John" by Maria Child._)

Grandpa stopped, and from the gra.s.s at our feet, Picked up an apple, large, juicy, and sweet; Then took out his jack-knife, and, cutting a slice, Said, as we ate it, "Isn't it nice To have such apples to eat and enjoy?

Well, there weren't very many when I was a boy, For the country was new--e'en food was scant; We had hardly enough to keep us from want, And this good man, as he rode around, Oft eating and sleeping upon the ground, Always carried and planted appleseeds-- Not for himself, but for others' needs.

The appleseeds grew, and we, to-day, Eat of the fruit planted by the way.

While Johnny--bless him--is under the sod-- His body is--ah! he is with G.o.d; For, child, though it seemed a trifling deed, For a man just to plant an appleseed, The apple-tree's shade, the flowers, the fruit, Have proved a blessing to man and to brute.

Look at the orchards throughout the land, All of them planted by old Johnny's hand.

He will forever remembered be; I would wish to have all so think of me."

_Bibliography of John Chapman._

_Howe's History of Ohio, Vol. II, p. 484._

_Ohio Archaeological and Historical Society Publications, Vol. VI, p.

290. Vol. IX, p. 301._

_"Philip Seymour" or "Pioneer Life in Richland County" by Rev. James F.

McGraw._

_"The Quest of John Chapman" by Newell Dwight Hillis._

[Ill.u.s.tration: JACKSON TOWNSHIP, PICKAWAY COUNTY, CENTRALIZED SCHOOL BUILDING.]

WHY STUDY BIRDS?

A Cincinnati teacher in one of the big intermediate schools recently discussed with her cla.s.s the question of studying birds. She reminded them that they are city children living in a densely populated district, and that they could hardly expect to see the live birds unless they went into the country, but agreed to forming a bird-study cla.s.s if the children could give good reasons for doing so.

One child called attention to the fact that they read and studied about many things all over the world that they never hoped to see, why not about birds also? One boy thought it just as necessary for city children to know what was to be seen in the country, as for country children to know what could be seen in the city. There were other reasons offered equally as good, but behind it all was a real live desire, a natural desire, that need give no reasons for its existence, to learn something about the wild birds. The teacher saw this, and being one who realizes that schools are maintained for the benefit of children rather than that children are born and reared to serve a school system, consented to the organization of a Junior Audubon Cla.s.s.

Bird study in some measure should be given to every cla.s.s in every school, city and country. Not just because it is new, not just because it is a branch of the now popular nature-study, not just because the children are eager for it, all of which are good reasons, but because of the great need of a national change of att.i.tude toward the wild birds if we are to succeed in preserving this absolutely essential part of our natural resources.

--_Eugene Swope._

TROOP OF WINTER BIRDS LED BY CAPTAIN NUT-HATCH.

H. W. WEISGERBER.

_From Nature and Culture._

How many of the boys that roam the winter woods appreciate the services of the white-breasted nut-hatch? He is the captain of the small troop of winter resident birds, and where his "yank", "yank", is heard there are the other birds also. Sometimes he is far in advance of the troop, but the small company of followers press on and go where he leads.

In the winter birds are not as common as during the summer, and the bird student sometimes tramps a long ways before he sees one of any kind. Then, all of a sudden he hears the call-note of the nut-hatch, and if he is wise, he will follow it up until he comes upon the company, which will not be far away from where the nut-hatch is heard.

Sometimes only three species are found, but generally four different kinds of birds make up the small company that road the woods together.

These four are the white-breasted nuthatch, tufted t.i.tmouse, downy woodp.e.c.k.e.r, and the merry little chickadee. What a happy, contented quartet they are!

One cold and cloudy November morning I thought I had caught a pair of nuthatches that had betrayed their trust. I had followed an old rail fence that bordered a weedy cornfield next to an open woods, and the only birds seen were a few juncos and tree sparrows. After walking about thirty rods, a pair of nuthatches were found; the next ten minutes were spent listening and looking for the other birds that should have been about. None were seen or heard. I was about to make a note of the fact; but, it being a cold, windy morning, I deferred this part, and moved on in order to get warm. I paralleled my first walk by keeping in the woods along the fence, waiting for the troop to come. I had not gone many rods until a note was heard, then a t.i.tmouse came in sight, and in a few minutes I was surrounded by t.i.tmice, downy woodp.e.c.k.e.rs, chickadees, and a number of golden-crowned kinglets.

Altogether there were twenty-five or more of the little fellows, and they moved so fast that I did not get to see them all, so I followed them to the place where I first saw the nuthatches. Here was where white-breasted was christened "Captain Nuthatch."

FARMER JOHN.

Home from his journey Farmer John Arrived this morning safe and sound; His black coat off and his old clothes on, "Now I'm myself," said Farmer John, And he thinks, "I'll look around."

Up leaps the dog: "Get down, you pup!

Are you so glad you would eat me up?"

And the old cow lows at the gate to greet him, The horses p.r.i.c.k up their ears to meet him.

"Well, well, old Bay, Ha, ha, old Gray, Do you get good food when I'm away?"

"You haven't a rib," says Farmer John; "The cattle are looking round and sleek; The colt is going to be a roan, And a beauty, too; how he has grown!

We'll ween the calf in a week."

Says Farmer John, "When I've been off-- To call you again about the trough, And watch you and pat you while you drink, Is a greater comfort than you can think;"

And he pats old Bay, And he slaps old Gray, "Ah, this is the comfort of going away!"

"For, after all," says Farmer John, "The best of a journey is getting home; I've seen great sights but I would not give This spot and the peaceful life I live For all their Paris and Rome; These hills for the city's stifled air And big hotels and bustle and glare; Lands all houses, and roads all stone That deafen your ears and batter your bones!

Would you, old Bay?

Would you, old Gray?

That's what one gets by going away."

"There Money is king," says Farmer John, "And Fashion is queen, and it's very queer To see how sometimes when the man Is raking and sc.r.a.ping all he can, The wife spends, every year, Enough you would think for a score of wifes To keep them in luxury all their lives!

The town is a perfect Babylon To a quiet chat," said Farmer John.

"You see, old Bay, You see, old Gray, I'm wiser than when I went away.

"I've found this out," said Farmer John, "That happiness is not bought and sold, And clutched in a life of waste and hurry, In nights of pleasure and days of worry, And wealth isn't all in gold, Mortgages, stocks and ten per cent, But in simple ways and sweet content, Few wants, pure hopes and n.o.ble ends, Some land to till and a few good friends, Like you, old Bay, And you, old Gray, That's what I've learned by going away."