THE WITCH HAZEL 



A S the Alder is the first tree to come upon the stage in spring, expressing the prologue 

 I \ of the play of the changing seasons, so the Witch Hazel is the last to show itself 

 X -A_ and close the play with a fitting epilogue. It not only expresses the complete 

 fruition of the season by means of its exploding fruits, but it also leaves in the spectator's 

 mind a promise of blossoms for another season by means of the slender, strap-like petals 

 of its yellow flowers. Everyone who has wandered in autumn along hillsides or woodsy 

 byroads where the Witch Hazel grows will agree with Thoreau that it "is always pleasant 

 to come upon it unexpectedly as you are threading the woods in such places." 



The Witch Hazel is more likely to be found in the form of a shrub than of a tree, 

 although it occasionally assumes the latter condition, especially in mountainous regions. 

 It is widely distributed in eastern America, and the characteristic form of the leaves and 

 fruits is well shown on the upper part of the accompanying plate. The bark of the lower 

 part of the trunk is generally smooth or slightly scaly, while the inner bark is of a curious 

 reddish-purple color. The wood is hard and heavy, weighing forty-two pounds per cubic 

 foot. The winter-buds are slender and pointed and commonly bent toward the tip in a 

 characteristic fashion, as may be seen on the end of the upper twig in the plate. The 

 hard, woody fruits have two cells, in each of which there is a little nut which is shot out 

 several feet in autumn when the fruits explode. Many people no doubt have had experi- 

 ences like that so delightfully described by the late William Hamilton Gibson in Sharp 

 Eyes: " I had been attracted by a bush which showed an unusual profusion of bloom, and 

 while standing close beside it in admiration I was suddenly stung on the cheek by some 

 missile, and the next instant shot in the eye by another, the mysterious marksman having 

 apparently let off both barrels of his little gun directly in my face. " 



The New England poets have very frequently referred to the Witch Hazel in their 

 writings, one of the happiest of these references being found in the familiar verse by 

 Whittier: 



"Through the gray and sombre wood, 



Against the dusk of fir and pine, 

 Last of their floral sisterhood, 



The Hazel's yellow blossoms shine." 



(182) 



