"It told how to cut
timber. When you cut down a tree, you pile up the remains in a neat pile
and put a little white picket fence around them. It would take a
thousand men and cost enough to buy a whole new tract to do all the
monkey business they want you to do. I've only been in the lumber
business forty years! When a college boy can teach me, I'm willing to
listen; but he can't teach me the A B C of the business."
Bob laughed. "Well, I can't just see us taking time in a short season
to back-track and pile up ornamental brush piles," he admitted.
"Experimental farms, and experimental chickens, and experimental
lumbering are all right for the gentleman farmer and the gentleman
poultry fancier and the gentleman lumberman--if there are any. But when
it comes to business----"
Bob laughed. "Just the same," said he, "I'm beginning to see that it's a
good thing to keep some of this timber standing; and the only way it can
be done is through the Forest Reserves."
"That's all right," agreed Welton. "Let'em reserve. I don't care. But
they are a nuisance. They keep stepping on my toes. It's too good a
chance to annoy and graft.
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