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lives up to its name and you think you could peel off 

 more than nine layers of its bark without half trying. 

 Great masses of elder (Sambucus) are here also and 

 when they are in bloom (June or July) they seem to 

 fill the path with drifts of snow. When you have 

 followed this Walk to a point about opposite the ex- 

 treme southerly end of the Rose Garden, it throws 

 off a branch at right angles. This branch leads over 

 toward Vale Cashmere, a lovely spot, in whose bosom 

 a little dreaming pool lies half asleep, trembling to 

 the soft music of a fountain that seems to never tire 

 of playing with rainbows in the sunshine. We shall 

 not take this yet, but will continue along the path we 

 are on, keeping parallel with Flatbush Avenue. We 

 come out now into an open space with a fine stretch 

 of grass waving gently up to the brow of a rise. This 

 rise is crowned with a picturesque and historic old 

 weeping willow which flung its whispering leaves to the 

 drum-beat of the Revolution, and near it stand a cluster 

 of Indian bean trees (Catalpa bignonioides), which are 

 fine sights in the last days of June or the early days of 

 July when they set all their white horns (spotted with 

 yellow and purple) and blow forth their silent beauty. 

 The far right-hand crest of this slope is set with fine 

 clumps of Austrian and Scotch pine. While you are 

 looking at these, notice also the two splendid horse- 

 chestnut trees (a little lower on the slope) that tower 

 side by side, like twins in their similarity. They are 

 beautifully formed trees, absolutely perfect specimens 

 of their kind, both in leafage and symmetry of form. 

 If now, you continue straight on south along the 



