INTRODUCTION 



sweet pillage amongst the flowers, then it is that few scents in the country- 

 are more beautiful or enticing. Perchance the lovely breath from the sweet 

 violet wafted on the breeze from some sun-kissed bank, or the delicious 

 perfume from the meadow-sweet along some secluded streamside, or the 

 fresh, invigorating air after a shower of rain, or the scent from the hayflelds, 

 may vie with the Lime in luxury of aroma, but the latter surely eclipses 

 all. Of an evening, when the heat and dust of the day have departed, and 

 twilight replaces the dawn, when the little pipistrelle bat is commencing 

 its nocturnal exploitations, and the bees have gone home to slumber after the 

 day's pillaging among the flowers, then it is the Lime is at its best. We 

 really do not know of any other British tree which gives to the country 

 such a delightful scent, nor — with the exception of the male Sallow blossoms 

 in the early spring, the Brambles in the summer, and the Ivy in the autumn 

 and winter — one that attracts such an abundance of insect visitors. 



It is astonishing to notice, however, how few people appear to hear 

 the pleasing monotone, or stop to inhale the sweet aroma. Yet most of 

 us seem to love trees, and nearly every one is passionately fond of flowers. 

 Many of our more unfortunate fellows, penned up in town or city, who for 

 a few brief hours pass a week end with us in the country, crave for a sight 

 of, and a meander through, some tangled and untrammelled piece of wild 

 England, some lonely copse, some secluded greenwood where the squirrel 

 loves to gambol in the tree tops playing hide-and-seek, and the jay and 

 the woodpecker delight in sounding their loud clarion cry. 



COMPANIONSHIP OF TREES 



There is companionship in trees. Shakespeare has written of sermons in 

 stones. Verily, if there be sermons in stones, there are sermons and music 

 and congregation combined in trees. 



Have you ever wandered alone through some favourite belt of wood- 

 land listening to the feathered choir, stooping to caress some vegetable 

 treasure at your feet, watching the rabbits scuttle away at your approach, 



or a crafty weasel creeping snake-like through the undergrowth ? You 



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