MR. BIXBY: There is another thing, the rough shell Japanese walnut, so-called, which is really a butternut hybrid. I have planted it and it is growing at a tremendous rate, even faster than the Japanese walnut. I expect to get a lot of those nuts this year and I wondered how the College of Forestry would like to try some of them.
DEAN MANN: I would be delighted.
MR. BIXBY: Then there is one other nut the big shell bark hickory which is a native of the Mississippi Valley, which has been planted in Pennsylvania and up in Lockport, New York. It grows finely, it bears early, and I think that it might be worth trying.
DEAN MANN: We have adopted this platform: "Anything which will interest the people of New York State." We must, as a state institution, limit our horizon very largely to the state of New York. We do slip over occasionally, but anything which will interest the people of New York State in trees of any kind, for any purpose, is a step towards forest conservation. Take your city dweller in New York City, get him interested in a shade tree in front of his apartment house, or in a group of shade trees in the adjoining park, and you have converted that man along the line of King Forest. So we will be very glad to take any seeds you have and give them excellent care.
NUTS THE NATURAL AND ADEQUATE SOURCE OF PROTEIN AND FATS
By
JOHN HARVEY KELLOGG, M. D., F. A. C. S.,
Medical Director of the Battle Creek Sanitarium
In the writer's opinion, the most important thing which can be done to promote the nut growing industry is to make clear to men and women everywhere the necessity for returning to natural and biologic living. Since he left his primitive state, in his wanderings up and down the face of the earth to escape destruction by terrific terrestrial convulsions and cataclysmic changes in climate and temperatures, chilled during long glacial periods, parched and blistered by tropic heats, starved and wasted by drouth and famine, man has been driven by ages of hardships and emergencies to adopt every imaginable expedient to survive immediate destruction, and in so doing has acquired so great a number of unnatural tastes, appetites and habits, perversions and abnormalities in customs and modes of life, that it is the marvel of marvels that he still survives.
Man no longer seeks his food among the natural products of field and forest and prepares it at his own hearthstone, but finds it ready to eat, prepared in immense factories, slaughter-houses, mills, and bakeries and displayed in palatial emporiums. No longer led by a natural instinct, as were his remote forebears, in the selection of his foodstuffs, he finds his dietetic guidance in the advertising columns of the morning paper, and eats not what Nature prepared for his sustenance, but what his grocer, his butcher and his baker find most for their pecuniary interest to purvey to him. The average man no longer himself plants and tills and harvests the foods which enter into his bill of fare, that is, "earns his bread by the sweat of his brow," but accepts whatever is passed on to him by a long line of producers and purveyors who do his sweating for him, depriving him of the opportunity of earning both appetite and good digestion by honest toil. So he resorts to condiments and ragouts, palate-tickling and tongue-tickling sauces and nerve-rousing stimulants, as a means of securing the unearned felicity of gustatory enjoyment.