CATKINS AND ALMOND-BLOSSOM. 37 



to which our eyes are so accustomed that the two together 

 form for us what Mr. Whistler would doubtless call a 

 native symphony in pink and green. Each individual 

 blossom is beautiful in itself I mean in the graceful 

 and undistorted single almond ; for the double-flowering 

 monstrosity, with its simple natural symmetry lost in a 

 bunchy rosette of indistinguishable tags, is unlovely to 

 the botanical eye. Each single h've-petalled blossom is 

 beautiful in itself, I say ; and even a tall spray of them 

 deftly displayed in a vase against a contrasting back- 

 ground is effective enough, as those same cunning Japa- 

 nese artists long ago found out, with their usual quick eye 

 for color-harmonies ; but on the tree, growing all to- 

 gether, they have a certain bare and poverty-stricken 

 appearance as they cling tightly to their naked stems, 

 which always suggests the notion that they are pitiably 

 cold and want a few leaves to keep them warm. So, 

 bright and spring-like as they are, they cannot be con- 

 sidered exactly pretty at least from a little distance, or 

 unless one stands close beneath the branches so as to 

 isolate a few sprays in bold relief against the retiring 

 sky. 



This habit, in which so many spring plants and trees 

 indulge the habit of sending up their flower-stalks or 

 opening their blossom before they put out any of their 

 leaves is a curious and interesting one. It is, indeed, 

 far more common than casual observers would be in- 

 clined to imagine ; for the majority of spring-flowering 

 trees have their blossoms in those large yet inconspicuous 

 masses which we call catkins ; while others, like the 

 elms, have them in dense clusters, so closely seated on 

 the boughs that comparatively few passers-by notice 

 them. Almost all our larger native trees are catkin- 

 bearers oaks, alders, birches, hazel, beech, sallow, 



