272 In Touch with Nature. 



we stroll leisurely along, or quietly seat ourselves 

 in such a wood as this, where trees of many sorts 

 are grouped, wholly different feelings arise. That 

 pleasure which variety affords is now our own. 

 We can turn from the tall, arrowy pine to the 

 stately chestnut, from sturdy oaks to the graceful 

 liquidambar; or, tiring of these, scan the thrifty 

 undergrowth that to-day was brilliant with golden, 

 pink, purple, and snow-white bloom. 



But for the time this mixed woods was silent. 

 I could detect no sound save the dripping of the 

 sullen rain-drops upon the leaves. Not a bird 

 chirped, not a squirrel barked, or timid wood- 

 mouse rustled last year's leaves. Wanting this 

 feature, I turned to the trees themselves. 



One noble chestnut, directly before me, em- 

 bodied all the dignity of tree-growth, and I longed 

 to know its history. What of the storms that 

 had tested its strength ; what of the summer's 

 heat and winter's cold that had nourished its 

 growth and bade it rest for a season ; what of the 

 men that had come and gone, resting for a while in 

 its generous shade ; what of the children that had 

 gathered its fruit, since its first few nuts were 



