SPEING 



ing where the buds of the earlier shrubs 

 and trees were swelling into life. At 

 this time the Neighbour often came 

 with his dog to walk among the trees 

 and share in the great new hope of the 

 squirrels and birds and violets of the 

 woods. 



After the first flush of reviving life 

 had passed, there came a pageant of 

 golden green that brightened the gray 

 of the Beech Woods and gave a setting 

 of rarest beauty to the gray-blue boles 

 of the trees. 



Few trees there are that approach 

 the incomparable beauty of the beech 

 bark. The buttonwood with its mar- 

 vellous browns and creamy white and 

 green, is perhaps the only serious rival. 

 From the pale gray of the young whip 

 beech to the sombre green of the patri- 

 archal tree there is an unending variety 

 of colours. Upon the smooth bark 

 nature has laid her colours with a sub- 

 dued yet wonderfully subtle touch. 

 There is nothing extravagant or loud 

 about the colouring, but something in- 

 finitely restful and harmonious. No 

 two are exactly alike in form or mark- 

 23 



