78 THE HUMAN SIDE OF TREES 



face. We see a sturdy old pine standing aloof on 

 a hillock. We note its broken and stunted head. 

 We see that the branches on the side of the pre- 

 vailing winter winds are short and stubby, while 

 to leeward the limbs are graceful and well-filled. 

 The massive and time-scarred trunk, like an aged 

 man who has known many rebuffs in life, has been 

 a little inclined by many gales. Everything about 

 the tree tells of a grim and courageous stand be- 

 fore almost overwhelming odds. 



Down in Texas, in the centre of one of the wid- 

 est parts of the Trinity River, stands an immense 

 sycamore tree. Its bare and leafless arms raise 

 brave but decrepit tops above the flowing stream. 

 There are no less than seventeen openings in the 

 huge trunk through which bees pass in and out. 

 No doubt it is honeycombed throughout. One can 

 see that this tree is not only very old but that it 

 must have got its start before the river flowed into 

 its present bed. Inquiry among the people of the 

 neighbourhood will reveal the fact that the exact 

 date of this event makes the sycamore an advanced 

 centenarian. 



The very shape of a tree is a rather complete in- 

 dex to the events of its life. A person well ac- 

 quainted with tree habits can point out how a par- 

 ticular tree reached yearningly toward the light 



