The Flowering of the Forest Trees 65 



Nevertheless, all the forest-trees bloom. After 

 the long, bitter December nights, and after the 

 beating tempests of the equinox, they, too, like 

 dear, quaint George Herbert, " bud again." They 

 respond fully to the call of spring, and break forth 

 not only into tender leaf, but into blossom, 

 too. 



But the floral efforts of the trees receive little 

 attention from the public at large. Their flowers 

 are, as a rule, small, green, and inconspicuous, and 

 appearing, as they do, just when we are looking 

 for the bursting of the leaf-buds, they are often 

 mistaken, by the casual observer, for half-unfolded 

 leaves; and they are often almost inaccessible, 

 growing on the swaying tops of upper branches. 



Even when one gathers these tree-blossoms, and 

 examines them closely, few of them are found to 

 look at all like flowers, as that term is " under- 

 standed of the people." For "a flower" to the 

 laity means a cluster of delicate or brilliant little 

 leaves, generally conspicuous, and often fragrant. 

 But "a flower" to the botanist may mean a 

 bunch of tiny greenish or brownish threads, insig- 

 nificant-looking and odorless. 



Few of the blossoms borne by the forest-trees 

 have either petals or fragrance. 



