282 Next to the Ground 



ently grown red or turkey oak. Though it 

 loves the waterside, and is rarely found out 

 of alluvial bounds, it does as little credit 

 as the black-jack to the rich earth which 

 mothers it. 



The red oak is a yeoman bold, ruddy only 

 at the heart. His leaves come out a pert, 

 glaring green, of coarse texture and fuzzy all 

 over. By and by the fuzz flies away, and 

 then, for a little while, the woods roads are 

 unbearable. The fuzz is warranted to set 

 eyes and noses watering after the first three 

 good whiffs. The galls are round and hol- 

 low, likewise coarsely rough, and so plenti- 

 ful even half a gale sends them down in 

 dozens. Red oak acorns are bitter, with 

 chestnut-brown hulls deep set in light-brown 

 cups, with, like all other acorns, the orange- 

 yellow mark at the bottom. They have also 

 butter-yellow kernels, which change to pinky- 

 white after lying on the ground all winter. 

 The change means sprouting. The sprout 

 comes out of the cracked hull from the 

 blossom end, where in every sort of acorn 

 there is a tiny knob-like point. From this 

 point, the root creeps down, the little plumule, 

 that will be later a stem, up. If the oaklet 

 escapes with its life, it may have four leaves 

 and stand as high as your hand by next 

 fall. 



