like structures rather than people.
The pine that spires high is like a church. From it as the winds
pass I hear the sound of organ tones and the singing of hymns in a
language that is older than man, a music whose legend is that of a
world before man was. Perhaps the first pines caught the music of
the morning stars when first they sang hymns together and have
made it a part of the ritual of their worship ever since. No
notation that man has devised can express this music nor can any
instrument which man has yet made reproduce it. Its hymnal is
mesozoic. On the soft brown carpet of nave and transept of this
cathedral tree one's foot falls in hushed silence and he who
passes without his head bowed in reverence for the solemnity of
the place goes with soul dulled to the higher spiritual influences
of the woods.

On the other hand the white oaks always seem dwelling houses for
the pasture folk. Beneath their wide-spreading horizontal branches
I see the little folks of the neighborhood at play. Tiny pines
sprout there, playing sedately as if already touched with the
thought of their coming solemnity. Little brown cedars, just a few
inches high, gambol on the green turf, and the barberry bushes
that are still too young to wear the gold pendants that will come
to them in future springs and the rubies of coming autumns, open
their leaves there like the wide starry eyes of wondering baby
girls. The kindergarten of the pasture is taught under the big
white oaks and all the babies of the pasture folk attend.

*****

The cedars make up much of the picturesque beauty of the pastures
and it is pleasant to know that these beautiful trees whose
personality is so marked as they group in the golden sunshine,
their bronze garments beaded with the blue of their fruit, are of
excellent family, they and their relatives greatly esteemed for
their value and beauty the world over. The first explorers of the
country spoke enthusiastically of our red cedar as one of the
finest woods of the New World, praising its quality and especially
its durability. Indeed the heart wood of red cedar seems to hold
an oil which makes it proof against vermin and fungi. Every
housewife knows the value of red cedar chips or red cedar chests
in keeping garments safe from moths. Every old-time farmer knows
the value of red cedar as fence-posts. The heart wood seems
practically indestructible by rot. Posts set in the ground for a
hundred years, in which the sa