Among some thirty or more species of pine trees which furnish important food supply for various peoples I exhibit nuts from only sixteen species today, because much of the crop comes from Europe and from Asia. I could not obtain a larger variety of specimens on account of the present interest of people in the game which military specialists play wherever industrious nations have saved up enough money to be turned over to their murder experts. In the pine trees we have opportunity for combining beauty and utility. As a group they are mountain lovers preferring localities where the air drainage is particularly good, but many of them will grow thriftily and will fruit well on low grounds. Fine nuts range in character from the rich, sugary, oily and highly nitrogenous nut of the Mexican piñon to the more starchy _bunya bunya_ of Australia, as large as a small potato and not much better than a potato, unless it is roasted or boiled. Yet this latter pine is valuable for food purposes and the British Government has reserved one forest of the species thirty miles long and twelve miles wide in which no one is allowed to cut trees. The nut of the _Araucaria imbricata_ has constituted a basis for contention among Indian tribes in Chile for centuries, and perhaps more blood has been shed over the forests of this pine than over any other single source of food supply in the world. We do not know if the _Pinus imbricata_ will fruit in the climate and at the latitude of New York, but I know that at least one tree of the species has lived for twenty years on the Palmer estate here in Stamford. Some of the smaller pine nuts like those of the single-leaved pine, or of the sugar pine, are delicious when cracked and eaten out of hand, but the smaller pine nuts are pounded up by the Indians with a little water and the thick, rich, creamy emulsion like hickory milk when pressed out, is evaporated down to a point where the milk can be kept for a long time without decomposition. In addition to the nuts of the sugar pine, the Indians collect the sugar of dried juice which exudes at points where cuts have been made in the tree for the purpose. Incidentally, the sugar pine is one of our finest American trees anyway. Botanists tell us that it grows to a height of two hundred and seventy-five feet, and travellers say that it reaches three hundred feet. The latter people having actually seen the trees we may know which estimate to accept.