278 NATURE-STUDY REVIEW [14:7— Oct., 1918 



have a fine fringe of hairs at the edge, but as they attain full size 

 they become smooth and fine, like silk. 



The blossoms of the beech appear in late April and May, the 

 staminate ones growing below the leaves at the base of the new 

 shoots and hanging in little balls of bloom on long slender stems. 

 The pistillate flowers are on stiff, little stems near the ends of 

 the twigs in the axils of the uppermost leaves. These are always 

 in twos with triple parted, outstretched stigmas waiting to catch 

 the pollen blown from the soft fuzzy dangling balls below. When 

 the pollen is shed the staminate blossoms fall off, but the twin 

 pistillate flowers grow into twin nuts protected by a spiny sheath 

 and are little and brown, three-cornered and sweet and very 

 "good to eat." 



The very name of the beech family means "good for food" 

 and is derived from the Greek verb to eat. The wild folk of the 

 wood know the tree for a friend. In our northern forests its 

 leaves furnish forage for the deer even in the winter and its fruit 

 or "mast" helps them to grow fat in autumn; and the squirrels, 

 mice, partridges, and jays are almost equally dependent upon it. 

 The black bear loves the beech-mast and gorges himself eagerly 

 before tucking himself away to sleep through the winter. "Beech- 

 nut bacon" is said to be the best of all and droves of pigs are 

 still turned into the beech forests of the Southwest where the 

 tree is said to reach its tallest and finest growth. In Europe the 

 sweet, three-cornered nuts are used for food and an oil is pressed 

 from them for table use. 



Beech wood is hard and heavy and durable under water, there- 

 fore, it is used for piles and for foundation timbers in damp places. 

 It also makes an excellent fuel. Furniture, shoe-lasts and the 

 wooden parts of tools are turned from the heart -wood. 



" Let poets sing of their leafy trees 

 When the tides of summer fancies swell 

 And rock their thoughts, as a tropic breeze 

 Rocks the bee in a lily's bell; 

 But give me a harp whose ring is sharp 

 Tuned for November melodies, 

 That I may roam the bleak hills alone 

 And sing of the grey and leafless trees." 



C. P. Crunch. 



