53 



X. 



THE GREEN LEAF. 



What an exquisite green, deeply tinged with yellow, 

 this young foliage of the oak shows us in these its 

 earliest stages ! The first flush of the hedges was spoilt 

 for us this year, indeed, by the long mild weather of 

 March ; the hawthorn bushes came out too slowly and 

 sporadically before their due season ever to display that 

 living outburst of fresh verdure in which they revel when 

 a week of bright sunshine comes in early April after 

 protracted east winds, followed by a single quickening 

 shower or so, to plim out and burst the swelling buds. 

 But the larger trees are making up for it now : their 

 leafing is favoured by just such an interchange of sun 

 and shower as best suits their ingrained habits. The 

 country people use them to prognosticate the weather, 

 with scarcely more distinguished success than the 

 Meteorological Office itself 'When the oak's before 

 the ash,' runs our rustic jingle, ' Then you may expect a 

 splash ; When the ash is before the oak, Then you may 

 look out for a soak.' A priori considerations might 

 thus easily induce one to conclude that in England the 

 ash invariably preceded its great rival. But, as a matter 

 of fact, here as so often elsewhere, practice seems to con- 



