I am taught by the Oak to be rugged and strong In defense of the right, in defiance of wrong. HELEN O. HOYT. HISTORIC AND SENTIMENTAL [Illustration: BABA, CLARA BARTON’S PET HORSE Baba was presented to Clara Barton at Santiago, Cuba, by a war correspondent of the New York _World_, 1899. We both loved him. I am glad my last act was for his welfare. CLARA BARTON. See page 219. ] [Illustration: THE BABA TREE—WILLIAM H. LEWIS (Tree registered in Hall of Fame for Trees, Washington, D. C.) The Baba Tree (Quercus Alba), grown on Cedar Green Farm, Battlefield of Chancellorsville, Virginia. Planted April, 1912, on Woodland Farm, two and one half miles from Bloody Angle, of said battlefield. White oak trees nearby, eleven feet in circumference, whose age (estimated) is between two hundred and three hundred years.—WILLIAM H. LEWIS, Chancellor Virginia. ] “Do you know, I can get no help here; I thought when I came here I could get all the help I wanted, but it seems to be something that neither love nor money will buy. Haven’t been able to get a nurse to wait on me. But my tenants on the lower floor are very kind, and bring me my meals. I feel very much alone. I am the lonesomest lone woman in the world. You do not know how much I appreciate your coming such a long distance to see me; it has done me so much good—” Moved by a sudden impulse I took her right hand in mine, kissed it and said “God bless you!” Faster than the mind thinks, she raised up in bed with a “No, no”—caught my left hand in both of her hands so excitedly that I could not divine her movements, other than to suspect that I had performed a breech of decorum. Holding tight my hand in both of hers she kissed it, and with tears in her eyes said: “I’ll never see you again, this is the last—” “Oh! yes you will,” I said. “No, not again. Good-bye!” “No, Miss Barton, I’ll not say good-bye to you; you cannot die. You will live always. I will only say—God bless you!” And then, backing out of the room, facing her all the while and watching her changing expressions as the shadows played over her features,—waved a kiss, and said “God bless you!” LXVIII I think I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree. JOYCE FILMER. The trees are monuments with a meaning, for they live gloriously just as did those for whom they are planted. CHARLES LATHROP PACK, _President of the American Forestry Association_. The soil is right and the husbandman will not fail. CLARA BARTON, _President The National First Aid_. There never was any heart truly great and generous that was not also tender and compassionate. SOUTH. Life is war; eternal war with woes. YOUNG’S _Night Thoughts_. Before any great national event I have always had the same dream.