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standing close together. If you love the oaks, study 

 their winter buds. Their story is marvelously enter- 

 taining. The buds of the red oak are of a smooth, clean 

 crimson, far different from the dirty-looking, hairy 

 buds of the scarlet oak. 



Let us now come back and take the fork of the Walk 

 which runs northerly from the donkey tent. In the 

 point of the fork, on your left, is the Nordmann's fir 

 and several English yews clustered about it. As you 

 come near the next branching of the Walk, there is a 

 fine cluster of Turkey oaks out on your left. Note the 

 thick, heavy ridges of their blackish bark. About op- 

 posite these, on the right of the Walk, is a pear tree, 

 and, just back of it, some sassafrass. At the next fork, 

 which has three tines, on your left, is a stately cluster 

 of black walnuts. In between the third and middle 

 branches of the Walk's fork are two well-grown Hale- 

 sias or silver bell trees. If you wonder where they 

 got that name, come and gaze upon them in the spring 

 (May). Then they cover their branches with the 

 loveliest of fairy-white bells. Their purity fills you with 

 a silent joy. The long styles of the pistils hang down 

 below the corollas like tiny little clappers and give 

 the flowers a veritable bell-like look. If you stand 

 still and gaze upon them in sympathetic love, you can 

 hear their music — a music which no instrument ever 

 made by man can even faintly echo. Such is the silver 

 bell in May ! Its branches ring with the silent chimes 

 of the eternal beauty of purity and perfection fresh from 

 the hand of God. The halesia's fruit is an easy key 

 to its identification, a peculiar-looking, four-winged 



