TREES. 



W. E. WATT. 



Woodman, spare that tree! 



Touch not a single bough! 

 In youth it sheltered nie, 



And I'll protect it now. 



The monarch oak, the patriarch of the trees, 

 Shoots rising up, and spreads by s1o\y degrees; 

 Three centuries he grows, and three he stays 

 Supreme in state; and in three more decays. 



— Morris. 



-Dry den. 



SUNLIGHT and moisture fall 

 upon the earth and find it full 

 of germs of life. At once 

 growths begin each after its 

 own kind. There is such a multitude 

 of them that they have not yet been 

 counted. Each locality has forms pe- 

 culiar to itself. The places most 

 abundantly watered have different 

 forms from those less favored by rain 

 and dew, and those receiving more 

 heat and sun allow more luxuriant 

 growths than others if the water supply 

 is large. 



The business of life and growth is 

 mostly carried on by means of water 

 set in motion and sustained by heat. 

 Those forms of life which reach high- 

 est above the surface of the earth are 

 called trees. They are always striving 

 to see what heights they can attain. 

 But the different forms of life have 

 limits set them which they cannot pass. 

 The structure of one tree is limited to 

 carrying its top twenty feet from the 

 ground, that of another is so favored 

 that it can reach twice that height, and 

 others tower high above us and stand 

 for centuries. 



But the same tree does not flourish 

 with the same vigor in different places. 

 The nourishment of the soil may favor 

 it or poverty dwarf its growth. Moist- 

 ure and heat must be supplied or the 

 growth will be slight. 



I have stood upon the thick tops of 

 cedar trees on high places in the White 

 mountains near the tree-line. Towards 

 the summit the trees diminish in size 

 until they become veritable dwarfs. 

 They are stunted by the cold. They 

 shrink aside or downward trying to 

 find shelter from the angry winds that 

 are so cutting. Diminutive tree trunks 



are found that have curled themselves 

 into sheltering crannies of rock and 

 grown into such distorted shapes that 

 they are gathered as curiosities. 



The last trees to give up the fight on 

 Mount Adams are the cedars of which 

 I speak. They hug the rock for the 

 little warmth that may be lurking 

 there in remembrance of the sun's 

 kindly rays; they mat themselves to- 

 gether and interlock their branches so 

 as to form a springy covering to the 

 whole ground. One may lie down 

 upon their tops as upon a piece of up- 

 holstery, and in the openings below are 

 rabbits and woodchucks and sometimes 

 bears safely hidden from the view of 

 the hunter. 



From these ground-hugging trees of 

 the mountain-tops to the great red- 

 woods of our western slopes the mind 

 passes the entire range of tree life. 

 No trees are so great as our redwoods, 

 though in Australia the eucalyptus 

 reaches higher with a comparatively 

 slender trunk. Where the forests are 

 thickest, and the growth of the trees 

 consequently tallest, the eucalyptus 

 towers sometimes four or five hundred 

 feet towards the sky. 



The shrinking of mountain trees 

 where the rock affords some warmth 

 and shelter is shown on a larger scale 

 in the forms of trees that stand at the 

 edge of a forest. Where a stream di- 

 vides the forest we find the trees upon 

 the bank reaching out their branches 

 and spreading luxuriant foliage over 

 the water, because the open air in that 

 direction helps the growth of leaves 

 and twigs. Shade trees by the road- 

 side reach out towards the open space 

 of the road and grow one-sided because 

 the conditions of light and air are bet- 



233 



