By far the greater part of the state of Florida is covered with monotonous pine forests. Only a small fraction of it is hammock ; that of the northern part of the area being composed largely of live oaks, hickory, magnolia, red bay and a few other species of trees. In the low hammocks the tupelos, sweet gum, swamp red bay, two or three species of holly, cypress and some others occur. Along the coastal region throughout the state they are generally glorified by the wonderfully striking cabbage palmetto.

As we go southward a number of trees and shrubs begin to appear whose metropolis is in the American Tropics. In the lower part of the state the Caribbean pine (Pinus caribaea) takes the place of the Georgia pine (P. palustris), a number of Eugenias are met with, the gumbo limbo (Bursera gummifera), the marl-berry (Icacorea paniculate), and by the time Miami is reached on the east coast and Cape Romano on the west the larger portion of the hammock vegetation is West Indian. The lower keys have, for the most part, a foundation of coral rock and their vegetation is strictly tropical.

I have been in a number of the West Indian islands and Central America but nowhere have I seen vegetation more strikingly beautiful than it is in the hammocks of Florida. I know no more majestic tree than an old, finely grown live oak, especially when it is draped with long moss. This plant, now called Dendropogon usneoides, is found growing in a wild state as far south as southern Brazil, but perhaps nowhere in all its range is it more finely developed than in our hammocks.

Unfortunately the soil in the hammocks, being composed largely of leaf mould, is of much better quality than that of the pine land. Hence it matters not that this forest growth is among the most beautiful in the world; the greedy land owner seizes his ax and grub hoe and with the aid of fire he wipes out of existence this lovely vegetation which it has take nature centuries to develop. He does it that he may raise a few vegetables or put in a Citrus grove, or perchance that he may have an opportunity to show his skill in ornamental planting; putting out rows of palms alternated with Chinese Hibiscus, it may be.

I have in front of my house a couple of acres of high, rocky hammock and I have always considered it the most valuable asset on the place, not to cut down and plant, but to keep in its natural beauty. It became necessary to cut an opening through it immediately in front of the house in order that I might carry a walk down to the bay, and to have a peep across the water. This I was fortunately able to do with but very little cutting, as it happened that the narrowest part of the hammock was at that point. Only a couple of old, partly decayed trees had to be cut and a small amount of unimportant young stuff, and when the irregular opening was cleared out, not over thirty feet wide anywhere, I had a lovely view out over the water. Across this vista one can watch the passing boats and it serves as a passage through which cold air during northers can pass.

I have cut out a narrow trail, just wide enough for a single person, getting down on my knees in the thick scrub, and working it out with a hatchet. Nothing of any value was destroyed in cutting out this walk, for where I came in contact with any choice tree or small thing I worked around it and left it standing. This trail was apparently cut without any particular purpose, but in no case did it come near enough to the edge of the wood to permit one to see out of it. At the same time it went pretty well around the hammock and did not, at any point, approach near enough to itself so that it was possible to see across. By this means the impression was created that this bit of wood was quite a considerable forest, and visitors have supposed that it contained twenty acres.

I led the trail to all the objects of interest in the little wood; here a great live oak whose branches spread widely over the lower growth in the forest; there to a grand specimen of cabbage palmetto; again to another oak which had been overthrown in a hurricane long ago, and which had sent up vigorous stems only to be overturned a second time, so that at last its branches were a strange tangle. Here it passes under a large tree that had probably sometime been partly overthrown in a gale and which now forms a wonderful arch, under which the path was carried.

It came down to the low land near an artificial pool and up by another. So thick was the undergrowth in many places that I could not crawl through it and I had difficulty, first in locating the interesting things and afterwards in finding them. At one place not far from a large palmetto I made a turn in the walk, then I trimmed out the vegetation between the angle and the tree, and placed a rustic seat there so that one could sit and gaze at the glorious head of foliage.

Here and there along the walk and in secluded nooks I have planted shade-loving palms and other plants. A number of trees and shrubs belonging in the lower part of the state but which do not grow wild in this hammock have been introduced and established as I fear that they may soon be exterminated elsewhere. Many of the larger trees, especially the live oaks, are loaded with wild epiphytes, Tillandsias, Peperomias, Orchids and various ferns almost to the breaking point and among these I have planted numbers of exotic species which are generally doing well and becoming a part of the general air garden. The common sword or Boston fern (Nephrolepis exaltata), which is found growing all over the warmer parts of the world, has made itself completely at home here and in places is carpeting the ground. It has established itself in the tops of the palmettos, growing among the decaying leaf stalks. A nearly related species which is native elsewhere in this region is working in on rotting logs in the lower hammock. Phlebodium aureum, a strong-growing fern, lives along with the sword fern and the lovely grass fern also hangs down from the tops of the palmettos. The creeping Polypodium (P. polypodioides) covers the trunks and branches of the live oaks, drying up during dry weather until the fronds sometimes become so crisp that they break off, but turning green and commencing growth at once when rains come. Campyloneuron phylliditis, without any common name, grows on decaying logs and has long, strap-shaped, elegant fronds. I have brought in from hammocks elsewhere the beautiful Asplenium serratum, which somewhat resembles the foregoing, and established it in damp places. Here and there I have put sword ferns and Phle-bodiums on the cabbage palmettos just at the base of the crown of leaves and they have established themselves as though nature had planted them.