136 East and West 
ing earthward again in sinuous irregularity; 
others, tempted earthward in their youth, 
later take a turn to the south, while age finds 
them westward bent. Plainly it is not a 
soaring but an earth-loving tree, drooping its 
branches ever nearer and nearer the ground as 
age creeps on apace; and thus a grove fes- 
tooned with lichen and mistletoe wears the 
venerable and softened look so agreeable to 
the artist eye. 
If perchance a road meanders through a 
live-oak wood, branches meet overhead and 
long arboreal arms reach across, holding in 
their drooping extremities shadowy masses of 
grey lichen, itself pendulous and beautiful, 
while turns in the road admit one to new vistas 
and new sympathy with this sylvan world. 
Well might such a spot be sacred to something 
better than druidical rites and congenial to 
musing philosophers. 
One easily understands here the profound 
impression a grove made upon the mind of 
Antiquity, unsophisticated by Realism and by 
Science. About it there is a singular sug- 
gestion of an abode. The great branches 
reaching far out and often parallel with the 
ground are massive rafters, the thick canopy 
of leaves, a roof, the sturdy trunks, sustain- 
