WINTER BOUGHS ii 



Englishman — and he knows that though the wanderer 

 may not admire the gaunt, grim shadow of him in 

 the wood or on the weald, he none the less loves 

 the story that is told by his knotted elbows, im- 

 placable trunk, and iron constitution. Thus, in adult 

 splendour, he stands unquestioned king of the forest, 

 among fair creatures more dainty than himself. Great 

 names are written on his wrinkled front ; great deeds 

 are woven into the centuries of his life ; and before 

 the spectacle of him man perforce pays reverence 

 and passes back a little way to the times that are 

 gone. Then, at closer hand, one sees the King Oak 

 at Boscobel, with foliage a little tawny under the first 

 breath of September winds ; one notes a sore-driven 

 monarch of men peeping with death-pale forehead 

 and damp locks from his hiding-place on the lofty 

 bough. Recollect, also, Owen Glendower's Oak, 

 already a patriarch in 1400 a.d. ; the Bull Oak of 

 Wedgenock, that was hale and hearty at the Conquest ; 

 the Cowthorpe Oak, whose age Professor Burnet 

 computed at sixteen hundred years ; and other giants 

 of like repute, whose brows were wrinkled with years 

 ere Drake, or Ralegh, or many another heart of oak 

 drew breath. 



The ash is of a widely different habit, yet exhibits 

 poverty of detail by comparison with other trees of 

 smaller foliage. It is a question of the size of the 

 leaf. The ash ends with stout buds, for his leaf is 

 large ; but the general contour of him is most graceful 

 in line. His limbs taper regularly, and their boughs 



