Tree Study 



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ing a fold in the base of each. The end leaflets are not always three, sym- 

 metrically set, but sometimes are two and sometimes one, with two basal 

 lobes. 



The wine-colored "bob" is cone-shaped, but with a bunchy surface. 

 Remove all the seeds from it and note its framework of tiny branches, and 

 again pay admiring tribute to nature's way of doing up compact packages. 

 Each seed is a drupe, as is also the cherry. A drupe is merely a seed within 

 a fleshy layer, all being enclosed in a firmer outside covering; here, the out- 

 side case is covered with dark red fuzz, a clothing of furs for winter, the fur 

 standing out in all directions. The fleshy part around the seed has a 

 pleasantly acid taste, and one of my childhood diversions was to share these 

 fruits in winter with the birds. I probably inadvertently ate also many a 

 little six-footed brother hidden away for winter safe-keeping, for every 

 sumac panicle is a crowded insect-tenement. 



It is only in its winter aspect that we can see the peculiar way of the 

 sumac's branching, which is in picturesque zigzags, ending with coarse, 

 wide-spreading twigs. As each terminal twig was a stem for the bouquet of 

 blossom and fruit set about with graceful leaves, it needed room and this is 

 reason enough for the coarse branching. The wood of the sumac has a pith, 

 and is coarse in texture. 



During late May the new growth starts near the end of last year's twig; 

 the buds are yellowish and show off against the dark gray twigs. From the 

 center of these buds comes the fuzzy new growth, which is usually reddish 

 purple; the tiny leaves are folded, each leaflet creased at its midrib and 



The stag-horn sumac. 

 Photo by Verne Morton. 



