56 MY DEVON YEAR 



The yew is dusted with gold, and where the birds 

 hop in and out, little clouds of pollen from the yellow 

 inflorescence puff into the air. The pines are flower- 

 ing also, both those of Scotland and of Norway ; 

 while of all noble cone-bearers at this hour larches 

 are fairest, for they pitch the very tents and pavilions 

 of young Spring along the good red earth, and 

 shake out their emeralds in a shower till the eye 

 and heart are intoxicated with their green. A larch 

 is always lovely, from winter nakedness to spring 

 verdure, from summer opulence of colour to pallid 

 gold of Autumn. Soon the fertile catkins will shine 

 upon it like rubies, and the verdure will deepen to the 

 full tone of Summer. Few who love the tree re- 

 member that it is almost among the last of notable 

 strangers to win a welcome here. In 1629 an 

 occasional keen lover of forest trees nursed some 

 infant larches as a rare exotic treasure in the garden ; 

 but not until early in 1700 was this conifer much 

 grown in England for his manifold virtues. In Scot- 

 land the first larches were planted during 1727 by 

 the Duke of Athole at Dunkeld, and between that 

 date and 1827, it is declared that fourteen million 

 of them were set upon the Athole estates alone. 

 Your larch has philosophic habits, and great, genial 

 goodness of character. He is happy anywhere on 

 sloping ground reasonably drained, and will prosper 

 upon a Devon hillside with content as complete as 

 in his home, where he fledges the Alpine fastnesses. 

 Larches flourish at a greater elevation than the pine, 



