When, pale and pure against the sombre green

Of spreading hemlocks, and close-crowding pines,
In northern woods thy moonlight beauty shines,-
Thou seem'st, O stately Kalmia, like a queen
Alien and sad, exiled but not discrowned:
A wanderer from distant tropic lands,
But regal still, and bearing in thy hands
Caskets of pearl and rose, securely bound.
Fair fugitive, I would not be too bold,

Nor seek to probe thy hidden history;
I pluck thy blossoms, not thy mystery;
Yet I were rich indeed, with wealth untold,
If in some trusting hour, thou wouldst unfold
The secrets that those cunning caskets hold.

-E. Shaw Forman.

All the year the smooth, pointed green leaves of the laurel stand out boldly from the grey monotony of the rocks and hillside over which it loves to clamber, but only in middle June when these hillsides are apparently covered with a mass of pink snow

can we appreciate the beauty of our laurel. No flower of wood, field or marsh can surpass the beauty of a freshly opened bud, when it deepens and fades to paler tints according to the location, soil, etc., and its own individuality.

Its scientific name is Kalmia latifolia and it belongs to the Heath family which is familiar to us since it contains the azaleas, rhododendrons, and the dainty trailing arbutus. The buds and newly opened flowers are rose pink in color, but these fade to white with only pink lines showing. The flowers have been compared with little, quaint five-pointed umbrella tops with ten recurved stamens for the spokes each anther securely socketed till some bee alights. The sticky stigma is erect ready to receive the pollen from another flower which the bee has visited, and after hovering above the nectary the bee has only to descend toward it and possibly touch one of the curved filaments, when suddenly off will go the little "anther gun," discharging the pollen. So delicate is this mechanism that the least jar. will release the anthers.

This laurel sometimes grows to a height of thirty feet in the mountains of Pennsylvania, and it is more or less abundant from Canada to Georgia. To transplant it, one has only to secure acid soil for a border, dig the plant up carefully, and transplant it, meanwhile being especially careful not to allow the roots to dry out. The laurel like the huckleberry needs acid soil to make it thrive.

This shrub is carefully cultivated in England, being known as Kalmia. At Barewood Gardens, the home of the editor of the London Times, there are many fine shrubs of this and of our rhododendrons. The English papers announce the blossoming season and the estate is thrown open to the public, people coming from great distances to admire our laurel.

The generic name is that of a Swedish botanist Peter Kalm, a pupil of Linnaeus, who gave the plant his name. Kalm traveled in this country early in the eighteenth century and became more impressed by its beauty than that of any other flower. He introduced it into Europe where it is so highly prized.

The classic shrub is supposed to be identical with Laurel nobilis. This was brought over by the colonists but it did not thrive in its new environment. However, our laurel belongs to this distinguished family of plants, which has crowned poets

and heroes, and this might well be an argument for having it as our national flower; besides it possesses beauty, strength and thriftiness, is adapted to sudden changes of American climate, and will thrive mid the most adverse surroundings.

In 1790 fatal cases occurred in this country from eating wild honey, which was traced to K. laitfolia by an inquiry instituted by the government. Most cattle will leave it alone but it is said. some become victims every year, as do the grouse and partridge when hard pressed for food. One of the swallow-tail butterflies deposits its eggs upon the laurel leaves, and the larvae feed with no ill effects. Dr. Barker says that Indians drink a tea made from Kalmia leaves when they wish to commit suicide.

The wood is very hard, fine grained and solid, taking a fine polish. It is in good demand, weighing 44 pounds to the cubic foot. One of its uses is indicated by the name "spoonwood."

The Newark Museum

The museum as an educational factor is coming more and more into prominence. If anyone has an interest in the subject let him send at once for the pamphlet, "The Educational Value of Museums," published by the Newark, N. J. Museum Association. This brochure discusses the subject to right and left, front side and hind side, top side and bottom side, with a vital verve that sets the reader tingling to create museums or get in touch with

It gives cogent reasons for establishing museums and for continuing them and best of all discusses their possibilities as agencies for educating a city. The pamphlet is written by Louise Connolly, with an introduction by J. C. Dana. Miss Connolly came over to the nature-study meeting at New York and gave an address, as delightful as it was pungent and true, on the naturestudy propaganda, the manuscript of which arrived too late for this issue of the REVIEW but will appear in the March number. Miss Connolly is doing sincere and important work in naturestudy in the Newark Museum. She was a most successful teacher before she was connected with museum work and every step she takes is in the right direction to make for true education.

A Brook Acquaintance

CATHERINE BARD

Gowanda, N. Y.

Once upon a time, quite a long time ago in fact, there were two little springs in some woods, not so very far away from here. And these little springs just bubbled away, all day long, without doing anything very much, except to bubble in the summer, and sleep in the winter, and perhaps play with the birds and skunks who came to drink. And it wasn't very exciting. The little springs thought "My, wouldn't it be fine, if we could play together some day and what a lot we might do, if we could do it together!” So both of them being little springs and anxious to see each other started out to meet. Each decided that it had better get out of the woods first, because it would be so much harder to find the other in the thick tangle. They took the easiest way they could find, and rolled down into all the little hollows which they saw, and whenever they came to a hill, they ran down pell-mell. Of course, they met other springs on the way, who were just as lonesome, and they were asked to come along, because the first little springs knew just how they felt, so that by the time they were out of the woods, the first two little springs had several other little springs coming along with them, and each was a brook by itself. But they kept on going just the same, because they were started now and couldn't stop anyway. They went through a field, where the grass tried with all its might to make them stay with it, for it squeezed the brooks up into just little threads with its But the little brooks were getting anxious now, because they saw that it wouldn't be long, before they would see each other. Soon they came to a road, and they never had seen one before, and didn't know how to act when they met a road. They would have been angry and would have torn it right down, if they had not been shown that there was a nice pipe, which they could run through. After they had gone under the road, they knew that it could be only a little time before they would meet at last. One little brook did not hurry very much, but played along with the deep grass and green things growing in it, and gave away lots of water to the dry walnut trees, which leaned over it. But the other one was more anxious and tumbled down over big rocks and down a hill in a hurry, although it did leave

roots.