FLOWERING TREES 



deed, so reckless are they in responding to the "double- 

 faced" smiles of cunning April, who comes acourting, 

 that their beauty is sometimes spoiled, and one must 

 wait a whole year to enjoy the breathless moment when 

 the Peach trees are a pink enchantment above a shadow 

 of purple Crocuses. 



What the Apple tree is to New England the Peach is 

 to the Middle and Southern States. Every negro hut 

 boasts its glorifying Peach tree, every trim homestead 

 its Peach orchard, and I remember, when a little girl in 

 Baltimore, that so many of the backyards had Peach 

 trees that it was quite a delight to walk along the side 

 streets in early spring and peep through the iron railings 

 or over the queer board fences at the great bouquets 

 within. On the mountains of Maryland are the most 

 beautiful Peach orchards imaginable, and one does not 

 easily forget the experience of having seen one lying in 

 flushed ecstasy within the curving embrace of a rugged 

 mountain road. 



The double-flowered Peaches are even lovelier than 

 those of the orchards, the pink or white rosette-like 

 blossoms clinging densely along the naked branches. 

 We have a variety known as the Blood-leaved Peach 

 with tiny blossoms and reddish-purple foliage, but it is 

 not so good a tree as Prunus Pissardii, the purple-leaved 

 Plum, and shares, with all the Peaches, the fault of 

 losing its leaves too early in the fall. Peach trees, too, 

 are not so good in form as the Cherries, Plums, and 



