A DISCOURSE ON TREES 233 



and ancient maples, beeches, ashes, and oaks, a 

 narrow belt-like forest, forming a screen from the 

 northern and western winds in winter, and a harp 

 of endless music for the summer. The wretched 

 owner of this farm, tempted of the Devil, cut down 

 the whole blessed band and brotherhood of trees, 

 that he might fill his pocket with two pitiful dollars 

 a cord for the wood! Well, his pocket was the 

 best part of him. The iron furnaces have devoured 

 my grove, and their huge stumps, that stood like 

 gravestones, have been cleared away, that a grove 

 may be planted in the same spot, for the next hun- 

 dred years to nourish into the stature and glory 

 of that which is gone. 



In other places I find the memorials of many 

 noble trees slain; here, a hemlock that carried up 

 its eternal green a hundred feet into the winter air; 

 there, a huge double- trunked chestnut, dear old 

 grandfather of hundreds of children that have for 

 generations clubbed its boughs, or shook its nut- 

 laden top, and laughed and shouted as bushels of 

 chestnuts rattled down. Now, the tree exists only 

 in the form of looped-holed posts and weather- 

 browned rails. I do hope the fellow got a sliver in 

 his fingers every time he touched the hemlock 

 plank, or let down the bars made of those chestnut 

 rails! 



To most people a grove is a grove, and all groves 

 are alike. But no two groves are alike. There 



