THE AMERICAN BOTANIST. 23 



The Persimmon. — The persimmon {Diospyros Virgin- 

 iana) was one of the first fruits to come to the attention of 

 the early settlers of America and in an ancient "Historie of 

 Travaile into Virginia Brittania" the author pays his respects 

 to it in the following language: "They have a plumb which 

 they call pessemmins, like to a medlar in England but of a 

 deeper tawnie cullour ; they grow on a most high tree. When 

 they are not fully ripe, they are harsh and choakie, 

 and furre in a man's mouth like allam, howbeit 

 being taken fully ripe, it is a reasonable pleasant fruit some- 

 what lushious. I have seen our people put them into their 

 baked and sodden puddings ; there be those whose taste allows 

 them to be as pretious as the English apricock ; I confess it is 

 a good kind of horse plumb." 



Nature in a Forest. — When you wander through a 

 forest you feel what the ancients called "the sacred horror of 

 the woods;" you understand that mystery surrounds you, and 

 in the undefined shades spectres float whose outlines you dare 

 not fix. It seems as if you were intruding upon and disturb- 

 ing the solitude, and that at your approach some one had re- 

 tired. The trees, plants and flowers appear to change the sub- 

 ject of their conversation, as it is done in a drawing-room 

 when an intimate chit-chat is interrupted by some unwelcome 

 visitor. Perhaps you were on the point of detecting nature's se- 

 cret, which man seeks to unravel; but were your tread as 

 light as that of a red Indian in his moccasins, your foot 

 has moved a stone, made some grass rustle and dewdrops fall 

 from a wild flower. All at once a little bird darts away and 

 goes to inform the old oaks of the approach of an enemy. 

 The forest is circumspect, and says only insignificant things; 

 the flowers fold up their corrollas and the singers are hushed. 

 For a while life seems to be arrested ; after a little time, when 

 you are found to be a harmless dreamer, a poet incapable of 



