UNDER A GREENWOOD-TREE 



grown fibre telling of its strength. It is not 

 so columnlike in its lines as the beech, nor so 

 tall as the maple, nor anything like as elegant 

 as the sycamore. But the herculean power 

 is there, and a certain suppleness as well 

 something that tells of tough timber, of slow 

 growth and resolute, defying storm and 

 wind, reliant and contained. Its roots dive 

 deep into the dark earth and spread through 

 and under, gripping fast to the soil. The 

 lightning may fall on forest-aisles and thun- 

 der come in the wake of roaring winds, but 

 the ash holds its branches sturdily to the 

 blasts, secure in the knowledge of its matted 

 foundations. It is the type of constancy 

 among trees, strong, pliable, and enduring. 

 It is seldom, if ever, uprooted, and nothing 

 but a lightning-bolt can suffice to lay it low. 

 Among the other trees it is almost a forest 

 Ishmaelite, for its brethren are seldom seen 

 among these gatherings of beech and maple 

 and the lordly sycamore. 



Of bird life in these woods there is not 

 one-tenth the variety of the southern and 

 middle southern woods. 



The watchful and sable-pinioned crow is 

 107 



