44 TREES 



forms a large part of the loveliness of the 

 springtime. It is pleasant to watch the 

 green covering spread over the bare wood- 

 lands, and to note how each kind of tree has 

 its fixed period and manner of leafing. Then, 

 as time passes, the leafy canopy grows 

 denser. At first, the fresh, tender leaves 

 permit the sunlight to filter through with 

 little diminution of its brightness. The air 

 beneath the trees, is, on a sunny day, full of 

 gold. As the green deepens, and the leaves 

 are rendered opaque by dust, the screen 

 becomes impervious. The wood is then 



'. . . a pillarM shade 

 High overarch'd, and echoing walls between.' 



So it continues throughout the summer, and 

 well into the autumn. Gradually the thick- 

 ening and withering process proceeds. More 

 or less of russet, brown, orange, even scarlet, 

 shows among the foliage. At length a keen 

 frost chills the last spark of vitality, and 

 all is ready for the closing scene. As Hood 

 quaintly sings 



Boughs are daily rifled by the gusty thieves, 

 And the book of Nature getteth short of leaves.' 



