CHAPTER XV 



BUDS 



'^XT'HEN we look up through the trees at the 

 ^ ' sky, or down through the bushes at the 

 snow, we see that there are little knobs all along 

 the otherwise bare branches. 



A forester would call these knobs " winter 

 buds." Every one of them is a little parcel 

 wrapped up very neatly and tightly by Mother 

 Nature, and not to be undone until spring comes 

 from the South to open all the buds of the wood- 

 lands with her golden sunshine and her silver 

 showers. 



Winter buds are real surprise packages when 

 they do open (Fig. 39). On the tip of every 

 vigorous lilac branch there Is a pair of green buds, 

 each rather large as buds go, but not half big 

 enough to fill a thimble. Yet when they open, In 

 April, we shall see that each contains four, or per- 

 haps six, small leaves and a great spire of blos- 

 soms. Lower down on the branches are buds con- 

 taining a whole shoot, a little stem, and on It 

 maybe fourteen or sixteen leaves folded one within 



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