A SPRING RELISH 175 



May Day the scales have fallen from the eyes of 

 every branch in the forest. In most cases the bud 

 has an inner wrapping that does not fall so soon. 

 In the hickory this inner wrapping is like a greaf 

 livid membrane, an inch or more in length, thick, 

 fleshy, and shining. It clasps the tender leaved 

 about as if both protecting and nursing them. As 

 the leaves develop, these membranous wrappings 

 curl back, and finally wither and fall. In the plane- 

 tree, or sycamore, this inner wrapping of the bud 

 is a little pelisse of soft yellow or tawny fur. 

 When it is cast off, it is the size of one's thumb 

 nail, and suggests the delicate skin of some golden- 

 haired mole. The young sycamore balls lay aside 

 their fur wrappings early in May. The flower tas- 

 sels of the European maple, too, come packed in 

 a slightly furry covering. The long and fleshy 

 inner scales that enfold the flowers and leaves are 

 of a clear olive green, thinly covered with silken 

 hairs like the young of some animals. Our sugar 

 maple is less striking and beautiful in the bud, but 

 the flowers are more graceful and fringe-like. 



Some trees have no bud scales. The sumac 

 presents in early spring a mere fuzzy knot, from 

 which, by and by, there emerges a soft, furry, 

 tawny-colored kitten's paw. I know of nothing in 

 vegetable nature that seems so really to be born as 

 the ferns. They emerge from the ground rolled 

 up, with a rudimentary and "touch-me-not" look, 

 and appear to need a maternal tongue to lick them 

 into shape. The sun plays the wet-nurse to them, 



