112 TREES 



a multitude of buds, large, squat, enclosed in four scales, 

 like the husk of a hickory nut. All the delicate tints that 

 the water-colorist delights in are found in these buds and 

 the twigs that bear them. When spring comes, these 

 scales loosen, expand, turn green, then fade into pure white 

 — ^forming the four banners, ordinarily called petals — of the 

 bloom of the dogwood. The true flowers are small and 

 clustered in the centre. These white expanses are merely 

 modified bud scales, the botanist will tell you, and the 

 notch at the end is where the horny winter scale broke 

 away, while its base was growing into the large white 

 palm. 



From March till May one finds the dogwood clothed in 

 white {see Ulitstration, page 118)^ and the glossy leaves pass- 

 ing through changing hues from rose to green. The 

 wayward arrangement of the blossoms on the branch is the 

 delight of artists. Lured by the white signals, bees and 

 other nectar-loving insects come to the flowers, cross- 

 fertilizing them while they supply their own needs. In 

 midsummer the pale green clusters of berries replace the 

 flowers, and when in autumn the foliage, still glossy and 

 smooth, changes to crimson and scarlet, the berries are 

 brighter still, until the birds have taken every one. 



The bark of the dogwood is checkered like alligator skin 

 but with deep furrows that make it very rough. Th« 

 wood is used for wood engraving blocks, for tool handlci, 

 hubs, and cogs. But it is becoming very scarce. The de- 

 plorable destruction of the dogwoods comes not so mucli 

 from the lumberman as from the irresponsible people who 

 tear the trees to pieces in blossoming time. The wanton 

 mutilation of the dogwoods in natural woodlands belong- 

 ing to cities can be curbed only by pohcing the tracts. The 



