ON TREES. 225 



the summer of 1831, another large fungus made 

 its appearance at 8 feet from the ground. One 

 Sunday morning, during a raging tempest, the 

 trunk gave way at the fungus, carrying the remain- 

 ing branch, the stonework, and the jackdaw's nests, 

 with a tremendous crash, into the lake below. I 

 roofed the remainder of the stump again, leaving 

 an entrance for the owl. It is now quite covered 

 with ivy, and has sent forth a partial vegetation 

 annually from its last misfortune. In June of the 

 present year, another huge fungus came out at 4- 

 feet from the ground. I understand the warning ; 

 and I clearly foresee that the final doom of this 

 " statio malefida" volucri is close at hand. 



Thus have two sycamores, within a few feet of 

 each other, been a prey to distinct diseases, and 

 both of them afforded an inward retreat to birds. 

 The first, having entirely lost its inside, by the 

 slow-consuming process of wet entering at a broken 

 branch, still flourishes by the art of man. The 

 second, for centuries the ornament of the rock 

 upon which it grew, struck at last by the hand of 

 Nature with an inward distemper which nothing 

 could arrest, broke down at intervals in partial 

 ruins ; and probably will disappear for ever during 

 the next fierce wintry blast. 



There is still another process by which an en- 

 trance is prepared for birds in the boles of trees. 

 Frequently a large branch fails without any apparent 

 cause ; and it remains dead on the tree for rnany 

 years. At last, down it comes, having given way 

 close to the stem. On inspection you will find 

 Q 



