THE LIFE OF THE TREES 21 



strength and beauty of tree architecture which the foKage 

 conceals in summertime. The close-knit, alive-looking 

 bark of a living tree they do not distinguish from the dull, 

 loose-hung garment worn by the dead tree in the row. All 

 trees look alike to them in winter. 



Yet there is so much to see if only one will take time to 

 look. Even the most heedless are struck at times wdth the 

 mystery of the winter trance of the trees. They know that 

 each spring reenacts the vernal miracle. Thoughtful 

 people have put questions to these sphinx-like trees. 

 Secrets the bark and bud scales hide have been revealed to 

 those who have patiently and importunately inquired. A 

 keen pair of eyes used upon a single elm in the dooryard for 

 a whole year will surprise and inform the observer. It will 

 be indeed the year of miracle. 



A tree has no centre of life, no vital organs correspond- 

 ing to those of animals. It is made up, from twig to root, 

 of annual, concentric layers of wood around a central pith. 



It is completely covered with a close garment of bark, 

 also made of annual layers. Between bark and wood is the 

 delicate undergarment of living tissue called cambium. 

 This is disappointing when one comes to look for it, for all 

 there is of it is a colorless, slimy substance that moistens 

 the youngest layers of wood and bark, and forms the layer 

 of separation between them. This cambium is the life of 

 the tree. A hollow trunk seems scarcely a disability. 

 The loss of limbs a tree can survive and start afresh. But 

 girdle its trunk, exposing a ring of the cambium to the air, 

 and the tree dies. The vital connection of leaves and 

 roots is destroyed by the girdling; nothing can save the 

 tree's Hfe. Girdle a limb or a twig and all above the in- 

 jury suffers practical amputation. 



