£4 TREES 



on the tender shoots a bud will be found in each angle be- 

 tween leaf and stem. All summer long its bud is the 

 especial charge of each particular leaf. If accident destroy 

 the leaf, the bud dies of neglect. When midsummer comes 

 the bud is full grown, or nearly so, and the fall of the leaf 

 is anticipated. The thrifty tree withdraws as much as 

 possible of the rich green leaf pulp, and stores it in the twig 

 to feed the opening buds in spring. 



What is there inside the wrappings of a winter bud? 

 "A leaf," is the usual reply — and it is not a true one. A 

 bud is an embryo shoot — one would better say, a shoot in 

 miniature. It has very little length or diameter when the 

 scales are stripped off. But with care the leaves can be 

 spread open, and their shape and venation seen. The 

 exact number the shoot was to bear are there to be counted. 

 Take a horse-chestnut bud — one of the biggest ones — and 

 you will unpack a cluster of flowers distinct in number and 

 in parts. The bud of the tulip tree is smaller, but it holds 

 a single blossom, and petals, stamens, and pistil are easily 

 recognizable. Some buds contain flowers and no leaves. 

 Some have shoots with both upon them. If we know the 

 tree, we may guess accurately about its buds. 



There is another popular notion, very pretty and senti- 

 mental, but untrue, that study of buds is bound to over- 

 throw. It is the belief that the woolly and silky linings of 

 bud scales, and the scales themselves, and the wax that 

 seals up many buds are all for the purpose of keeping the 

 bud warm through the cold winter. The bark, according 

 to the same notion, is to keep the tree warm. This idea 

 is equally untenable. There is but feeble analogy be- 

 tween a warm-blooded animal wrapped in fur, its bodily 

 heat kept up by fires within (the rapid oxidation of fats 



