away ; and the queer people who were careful to dispose of all the 

 Christmas greens immediately at the close of the holiday time, 

 because after that the one who stepped on a spray, or even a leaf, 

 would behold a dreadful goblin. 



Some rosy- cheeked lassie or bright-eyed laddie would be sure to 

 ask me why so many trees are leafless in winter, while evergreens 

 are not. You will be unable to understand an explanation of the 

 first question until you are older and can learn, with the aid of the 

 microscope, a little of the mysterious story which Mother IN^ature 

 has hidden in a leaf. I would probably answer by saying that the 

 material taken in by the roots of the tree is lifted up into the 

 leaves and other green parts where it is manufactured into starch. 

 Since all the moisture which rises is not needed in these factories, 

 there are little pores in the leaves through which some of it may 

 pass out. In the cold winter weather the tree loses all of its 

 vital activity, so the little unused factories become ruins and tumble 

 to the ground. We may not be able to learn from evergreen trees 

 just why they wear their summer suits all winter. In the distant 

 future some Junior Naturalist, grown to be a Senior, may find some 

 reason for it. 



It certainly would be delightful if I could go with you, for, 

 besides having a jolly time, I believe I might find out something 

 which I am very anxious to know. Maybe you will help me. 



In many places in the United States live relatives of two very dear 

 friends of mine. I would like to learn just where I can find them. 

 These friends are pine trees — very old fellows — living close 

 together since Washington took command of the Continental army. 

 One is a pitch pine and the other is a white pine. They have 

 seemed good comrades since I have known them, the roots of 

 each taking food from the same soil, receiving rain and sunshine 

 from the same skies, and each wearing his own green needles in his 

 own particular way. I have known sleepy boys and girls to put on 

 a stocking in the morning wrong side out, but rarely has the pitch 

 pine failed to put out three needles from a sheath, or the white 

 pine five. All the years that they have lived they have been count- 

 ing out needles — - one three, the other five — and one must be very 

 38 593 



