CHAPTER III 



IN THE MIDWINTER FOREST 



'TpHE winter trees, stripped of their leaves, 

 -'■ show beauties which are hidden in the sum- 

 mer, and they differ so one from another that we 

 can easily tell them apart, and learn to recognize 

 them all. 



Now we see the graceful shape of the meadow 

 elm, like a spraying fountain, and the sturdy 

 arms of the oak, thrust out as if to do battle with 

 his enemies, the storms. Now we see the alligator- 

 like scaliness and writhings of the black locust and 

 the beautiful form of the silvery beeches. Now, 

 too, we see the homes of many friends and foes 

 of the trees. On the bare boughs of some large 

 forest tree, generally pressed close against the 

 trunk, we may see a rounded ragged-looking mass 

 of sticks and leaves — the summer home of a 

 squirrel. He moved out of it in autumn, and Is now 

 living in a warmer and safer place — some deep 

 hole inside a tree or stump. 



On many trees we notice thick clusters of little 

 slender twigs. In olden times, when people really 

 believed in good and bad fairies, queer scary 



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