AUGUST 19? 



serious elm with its leaf sitting close, unthrilled. Its stature 

 gives it a dark gold head when it looks alone to a late sun. 

 But if one could go by all the woods, across all the old 

 forests that are now meadow lands set with trees, and could 

 walk a country gathering trees of a single kind in the mind, 

 as one walks a garden collecting flowers of a single kind in 

 the hand, would not the harvest be a harvest of poplars ? " 

 Perhaps the pines, because of their unchangeableness, are 

 invested with a deeper sense of friendliness, for, says a 

 writer, "The pine is one of the most majestic of all trees. 

 It is so superbly stately so unbending to the breeze. It 

 raises its royal head aloft soaring heavenwards heedless of 

 all around, while the silver clouds seem to gently kiss its 

 topmost boughs, as they fleet rapidly hither in their endless 

 chase around the world. Deep and dark are the leaves, 

 strong and unresisting ; but even they have their tender 

 points, and the young shoots are deliciously green and sweet- 

 scented. Look at its solid stem so straight, its superb 

 carriage. . . . Look beneath, its dark and solid grandeur 

 protects and fosters the tenderest of green carpets. See the 

 moss of palest green, its fronds appearing like very ferns, 

 or note those real ferns and coarser bracken fighting the 

 brambles for supremacy, or trying to flout that little wild 

 rose daring to assert its individuality." And perhaps, after 

 all, the trees, near and distant, with their tender whisperings, 

 and change from bud to fall, have added the greatest charm 

 to our many pleasures to be found in the life of the garden. 



