Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1925-03-15

good start for a story. The
tree that caught the Rambler's
eye was rough and knotty old fell
low that had the look of good humor
in his bark and one OF his big roots
seemed so hospitablc that the Ram
bier sat on it to rest. Many black
ants were busy-or at least in mo-
tion--among the dead pine needles, and
on sitting down the Rambler said: Beg
your pardon, Messieurs and Mesdames
Ants, | hope | do not disturb you"
The ants did not lay aside their work
and several of them began an inspec-
ton of my shoes and then extended
their inquiry to my trousers. They
had the air of experts in leather and
examination in an active way. The
Rambler thought. Even ants arc 60
ing in for Investigations and plain
man cannot sit on the side of road
without a swarm of inspectors COM
Ing on him" They seemed inqusitive
as to the kind of clothes ! wore and
very likely they set down in a re-
port TO their department the date on
which j bought the clothes, the
amount of deposit l had made and
the balance owed
/ was thinking of what Profs.
Wheeler. Huber. Florel and other
learned friends have written of the
high state of civilization and prog
ress among ants and was just about
to put a few questions to them when
a dry cone dropped from the pine, and
looking around / saw that the knotty
old tree was smiling. 1t was a smile
of welcome and then the old pine
tree spoke: Il dropped that cone on
your head to attract your notice. If
| were cocoanut tree instead Of
pine tree, my message would have
had more weight"
Then the old pine tree continued:
"I' have not seen you out this way
for many long year"
Some years" l answered, seem
longer than others. but it has been a
long time since we met. The build
ers are putting up so many colonial
houses in which George Washington
slept and in which famous men of
the American Revolution lived that
il keeps me pretty busy writing them
up, and l don't get out this way
often"
A number of pine trees nearby bent
over as though listening to us. but
they did not interrupt. My old friend
the pine resumed: You were so in
terested In the ants l thought you'd
never look around"
Ants" I said. ARE interesting and
worthy of earnest study. l remember
having talked with Drs. Howard,
Marlatt, Quaintance, OLeary and
Currie down at the Department of
Agriculture on the subject of the sys-
tenn of governments of ants, and the
progress of literature and civiliza-
ton among them, and 1t seems to me
that these ants are preparing a re-
port on the clothing and habits of the
larger insects"
fHThaf'S old nine
ants that crawled over you are in
spector ants of the Republic of For
micaria, and they are getting statis-
tics of some kind, or any kind"
l was a little surprised by this, but,
knowing that IT is good form in po-
lite society never to show emotion and
to keep the face as expressionless as
the marble lady on the Peace Monu-
ment, l did not interrupt the old pine,
who continued:
Yes, lots o. changes down here
since you wrote up old Jack Smiths
loghouse and said it was one of the
princely mansions of the colonial era"
/ saw a sudden movement in a pine
that had been watching us from it's
place across the road and heard 1t
laugh. 1t broke into the CONVERSE
ton and said:
My family trees were living around
here and knew the Smith family in
timately. You made a picture Of old
Jack Smith drinking tea out OF a
saucer with Gen. Washington, but the
nearest old Jack ever came to George
Washington was when the generals
coach ran over one of his rabbit
hounds down the road yonder. Amt
that so, Old Knots?"
II y x
T LEARNED in this way that the
name of the tree under which I
was sitting was Knots-Mr. Gnarly
Knots was the full name. Then
Gnarly said: That's my friend, Mr..
Rosin. across the way. We have been
neighbors for long time, but we get
along together fairly well, notwith-
standing. Yes, things have changed
right smart down here since horse
and-buggy days. My address used to
be the County Road About One Mile
From Skunk's Crossroads, but my post
Office address now is No. 43711 Pine
hurst boulevard. I haven't moved,
but the neighborhood has changed.
There amt any more houses than
there used to be, but we've got f1os-
sier names.
Some style! I'll say we have!'
creaked a venerable tree a little way
down the road.
Knots. "She's a daughter OF Miss
Blister and old Pine Rust You met
them when you were down here on a
writing tour about rs years ago. Miss
Scales resembles her lamented par
ents. Her mother was the most cele-
brated gossip in this part Of the
county and her father was so worth
less that he could not be used for
firewood. Miss Blister was a graceful
sapling about So years ago, but she
married a scrub-pine-young Jack
Pine, a very good sort of person in
his way, you know-but Of course
members of the pioneer Pine families
could not receive her.
"Ah, yes!" sighed old Mr.. Knots,
many changes, many changes The
young pine trees are not what we
used to be. They are not as green.
They are frivolous and their speech
is too familiar. 1 see young maiden
pine trees wave their branches firt-
ingly at city slickers going by in
horSeless carriages" Girls did not
behave that-er-way when 1 was a
girl" saids Mrs. Blister-Pine. We'll"
said old Gnarly Knots, putting ons
of his branches close to my ear, II
did hear tell of some scandal about
Miss Blister when Jack Pine was
a-courtin' her.
THE Rambler thought he would stop
L out in the country and tell you
of the flower farmers of Washington.
He thought 1t might add to your
stock of knowledge were you to meet