A SPRING RELISH. 193 



wither and fall. In the plane-tree, or sycamore, this 

 inner wrapping of the bud is a little pelisse of soft 

 yellow or tawny fur. When it is cast off it is the 

 size of one's thumb nail, and suggests the delicate skin 

 of some golden-haired mole. The young sycamore 

 balls lay aside their fur wrappings early in May. 

 The flower tassels of the European maple, too, come 

 packed in a slightly furry covering. The long and 

 fleshy inner scales that enfold the flowers and leaves 

 are of a clear olive green, thinly covered with silken 

 hairs like the young of some animals. Our sugar 

 maple is less striking and beautiful in the bud, but 

 the flowers are more graceful and fringe-like. 



Some trees have no bud scales. The sumac pre- 

 sents in early spring a mere fuzzy knot, from which, 

 by and by, there emerges a soft, furry, tawny-colored 

 kitten's paw. I know of nothing in vegetable nature 

 that seems so really to be born as the ferns. They 

 emerge from the ground rolled up, with a rudimen- 

 tary and " touch-me-not " look, and appear to need a 

 maternal tongue to lick them into shape. The sun 

 plays the wet-nurse to them, and very soon they are 

 out of that uncanny covering in which they come 

 swathed and take their places with other green 

 things. 



The bud scales strew the ground in spring as the 

 leaves do in the fall, though they are so small that 

 we hardly notice them. All growth, all development, 

 is a casting off, a leaving of something behind. First 

 the bud scales drop, then the flower drops, then the 



