CITY TREES 



II2I 



exclusive beauties ; as, for instance, the 

 peculiarly rich and elegant effect seen in 

 the budding season ol the tree, when last 

 year's tassels, the swelling leaf buds, and 

 the tiny velvet balls of the new blooms 

 thickly stud the crooked twigs, showing 

 an exquisite fretwork against the April 

 sky. Neither do they know the plane 

 in its proper environment of the country, 

 enjoying ])ure air, sufficient space, and a 

 generous soil. 



I have seen on the banks of the Mole 

 a plane tree that seemed too good for this 

 world ; such an one rather as might 

 flourish by the waters of some fabled 

 Holy City, bearing miraculous fruits 

 and healing leaves. Trunk, branches, 

 and fohage were all tinged with gold, 

 as though perpetual sunshine were u])on 

 it. There are plane trees, too, of almost 

 equal beauty at Moor Park, just outside 

 Stella Cottage. Likely enough Stella 

 and the trees were young and gay 

 together. 



Most of the City trees are cared for, 

 and in their measure may be said to thrive ; 

 but not all. Hidden away in dark sunless 

 courts, stunted and misgrown for lack of 

 space and light, encumbered by their 



owTi dead branches, f(juled with smoke 

 and dust, they huddle round the grimy 

 walls oi the (jld church, if church be left — 

 scjmetimes a tower only, or a warehouse 

 that has usurped the church's place ; 

 with both feet in the graves of London's 

 forgotten dead, these sorry fugitives still 

 make a show of Hfe, and have their 

 time of budding and leafage, and at 

 their worst can give a httle grace 

 even to the uncomeliness of a London 

 court. 



These are the weaker brethren ; and 

 the stronger and happier are not far to 

 seek. But to my mind there is something 

 of pathos in the hfe of all City trees, 

 cUvorced as they are from all the con- 

 chtions necessary to arboreal well-being ; 

 for a tree planted in the City is already 

 condemned to an untimely death. It 

 may be an exaggerated fancy, but when 

 I look at these brave doomed ones, I am 

 sometimes reminded of the gladiators of 

 old Rome. For our pleasure are they 

 placed in the deadly arena, and gallantly 

 do they bear themselves in the face of 

 day ; but in the quiet of early morning, 

 or at night when the moon shines and 

 fresh breezes stray even into City streets 



BANK OF ENGLAND FOUNTAIN. 



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