no 



THE BROOK BOOK 



lay close under the loose bark. We pulled off 

 a slab of bark and out slid a smooth, lithe sala- 

 mander. He did not stop to explain his presence, 

 and seemed only to desire to efface himself as 

 quickly and completely as possible. One great 

 trunk lay low in the soil, having been partially 

 buried by the annual deposits of leaf- mold. It 

 was green with moss. Its ruin was all but com- 

 plete. Above it were beech and hemlock trees. 



LICHENS CREEPING OVER THE LOGS 



Each year a few of their many seeds caught in the 

 rough coat of their fallen brother and had there 

 sprouted. Dozens of seedlings, one, two, and 

 even five years old, grew on the old trunk and 

 disputed with one another for standing room. 

 Among the fungi hitherto unknown to me were 

 the irregular masses of hydnum, which looked like 

 some pieces of organ-pipe coral we used to have in 

 the cabinet at home. The color was not the same, 

 for the fungus had a creamy hue. The "mush- 

 room fiend" insisted that they were good to eat, 



