NATURE-AND MAN

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 80, Issue 92, 20 April 1938, Page 6

NATURE-AND MAN

SNEERS AT “FADDISTS” AN OLD, OLD RUSE (Edited by Leo Fanning.) Members of the Forest and Bird Frotection Society have been decried as “faddists” by persons who cheerfully put their selfish interests in front of public welfare. “Oh-Ho! —A Faddist” is the title of a bright little article by the “Keeper of the Mansion” in Nature Magazine. Here it is:— “A thin and sallow-faced man came into my sanctum the other day. He said that he had formerly been connected with the Game and Fish Department of and wanted to know whether I would be interested in the cause of wildlife conservation and that if I was, perhaps I would take space in a little booklet he was getting out, which was to assist hunters and fishermen in locating good places for their pursuit. ‘Why yes,’ said I, •I shall be most happy to help in the fine cause of wildlife conservation, but why ask me to be a partner with you in wildlife destruction?’ The man looked puzzled. He evidently was perplexed by the unaccustomed query ‘Yes,’ I pursued my question, ‘my friend, perhaps you have never thought of it in just this way, but certainly you must see that to destroy life for sport is not a manly thing to do.’ ‘Oh-ho’.’ said he, ‘I note I’m talking to a faddist! My man, remember, please, please, that you get nowhere with your sentimentalism. There are all sorts of faddists running around telling the world their foolish stories of reform this and reform that, but they never get anywhere. No, No,’ quoth the realist, ‘you must come down to earth and deal with facts.’

“I listened with patience and then proceeded to ask my visitor whether he had ever heard of Abraham Lincoln, Garrison, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Lovejoy and many others who were faddists in the cause of abolition of| chattel slavery. Had he ever heard of i Edward Bok and former President I Theodore Roosevelt and others, wno | were faddists in the cause of the aboli-| tion of plume hunting? ‘Well, my} friend,* said I, ‘there have been many faddists who backed the upward trend of civilisation, and this cause is just another one that requires ‘faddists’ to open the eyes of their fellow-men to realise the rowdyism in killing for sport, and thus raise the standard of human decency and culture.’ My visitor left, adless, but with food for thought.” Yes, New Zealanders, you know of plenty of good citizens who have been denounced as “faddists.” It is very easy to be a “faddist.” If you like malted, fermented or spirituous beverages, an opponent of alcoholic drink, is a “faddist”; if you don’t like such drink, a person who differs from you is the “victim of a fad”; if you are a protectionist, a free-trader is a fad- ■ if you are a free-trader, a protectionist is a faddist: if—but why go! on with a list which sould stretch from Auckland to the Bluff. “Say it With Plants” Soon the planting season will be in full swing in New Zealand. A good; notion as a gift for a birthday or any . other occasion is a young shrub or! tree. Even if there is no special date to commemorate during tha’ j time for a friend or relative you can send a plant (preferably a native) to somebody. “Living Plants as Enduring Gifts” is the subject of a pleasant chat by F. H. Ballon in “The Rural New Yorker.” “There are few, if any, finer means of expression of regard or affection for friends or loved cnes than by presentation of living trees,

shrubs, vines or plants freshly removed from the nursery row or propagating bed,” he writes. “Such gifts, if thoughtfully chosen may prove enduring almost beyond belief, quietly but impressively reminding the recipient day after day, month after month and year aft-r year of the generosity, goodwill, kindly regard or love of the giver. “Many years ago a half-hundred trees of white pine twelve to eighteen inches in height were sent to the writer from a nursery of an adjoining State. These were planted along the rim of a steep bank near our homestead. “The pine trees are now 25 years of age. average about 30 feet in heignt, 20 feet in spread of bran les, and are admirably fulfilling their purpose of prevention of erosion and holding the steel slope of the nearby roadway cut intact.” Fatal “Liberty of the Subject” There is a certain “liberty of the subject” which opens the way for a country’s ruin. In the pioneering stages of America, Australia, New Zealand and other young countries, subjects were granted liberty to make a mess of natural resources, and this ruinous process is still observable. Here is an American comment which can apply to New Zealand:— “Back in Theodore Roosevelt’s time considerable interest and also much criticism resulted from his efforts to preserve and create large holdings of I Government land and forests. To-day !we find the Government, supported by | the best thinkers of the nation .going (much farther than President Theodore Roosevelt even dared to intimate, i “And we are destined to go much farther in the conservation of natural resources in the future. It would not be surprising if the time came when the lumberman or the farmer would be required to plant a tree for every one cut, unless he could show the need for clearing the land or that the trees interfered with other necessary projects or enterprises. “Owners of agricultural lands mayfind it necessary under the law to build terraces and to otherwise conserve and build up the fertility of the soil. When the life or prosperity of the nation is at stake, all preconceived • ideas of personal liberty are of secondary consideration. We have reached the limit of our exploitation of our natural resources. From now on we (must conserve what is left for those ,who come after.” Dawn When I step into my garden, Tn the cool of early dawn, There I see a hundred faces Smiling in the misty morn. How I love the world at sunrise! Then all fretful cares depart, l When the dew is on the roses And a song is in my heart. Every bird note is a carol Tn the silence of the dawn. Filling all the air with music In the hush of early morn. Every bud and every flower Is a touch of Nature’s arl, When the dew is on the roses, And a song is in my heart. i —By Nathalie Thurston Shelton H Nature Magazine,