CHAPTER III

THE RULER WITH THE IRON HAND

  But evil is wrought by want of thought
  As well as want of heart.
          —­Hood.

One morning as we flew across the open space which lay between the wood and the wheat fields, we noticed two gentlemen in the orchard who were carefully examining the trees, peering curiously into the cracks of the rough bark or unfolding the curled leaves.

As we came nearer we discovered that one of them was the owner of the place, the father of Miss Dorothy and Miss Katie.  The other was a thin gentleman in spectacles, who held a magnifying glass through which he intently looked at a twig which he had broken off.

After a few minutes’ inspection he said:  “Colonel, your orchard is somewhat affected.  This is a specimen of the chionaspis furfuris.”

“Is it anything like the scurfy-bark louse?” inquired the colonel.

“The same thing exactly.  It occurs more commonly in the apple, but it infects the pear and peach trees.  You will find it on the mountain ash, and sometimes on the currant bushes,” he answered.

The colonel asked him if he would recommend spraying to get rid of the pests, and was advised to begin immediately, using tobacco water or whale-oil soap.

“By the way,” said the colonel, “there is a beetle attacking my shade trees.  They are ruining that fine row of elms in front of the lawn.”

“It is undoubtedly the melolontha vulgaris,” said the professor.  I designate him in this way because he used such large words we did not understand.  My mother told us that she was positive he was president of a college.  “The melolontha vulgaris is the most destructive of beetles, but the larvae are still more injurious.  They do incalculable damage to the farmer.  Fortunately enormous numbers of these grubs are eaten by the birds.”

“Unfortunately the birds are not so numerous as they used to be.  They are being destroyed so rapidly, more’s the pity!  These grounds and woods yonder were formerly alive with birds of all kinds.  Flocks of the purple grakle used to follow the plow and eat up the worms at a great rate.  You are familiar with their habits?  You know they are most devoted parents.  I have often watched them feeding their young.  The little ones have such astonishingly good appetites that it keeps the old folks busy to supply them with enough to eat.  They work like beavers as long as daylight lasts, going to and from the fields carrying on each return trip a fat grub or a toothsome grasshopper.”