GETTING ACQUAINTED fTITH THE TREES 



than wrought iron, weight for weight; and I 

 will answer for it that no structure of iron 

 can ever have half the grace, as well as 

 strength, freely displayed by this same old 

 shagbarlc of the lowlands near my home. 



Curious as I am to see the blooms of the 

 trees I am getting acquainted with, there are 

 many disappointments to be endured — as when 

 the favorite tree under study is reached a day 

 too late, and I must wait a year for another 

 opportunity. It was, therefore, with much joy 

 that I found that a trip carefully timed for 

 another fine old hickory along the Conodo- 

 guinet — an Indian -named stream of angles, 

 curves, many trees and much beauty — had 

 brought me to the quickly passing bloom 

 feast of this noble American tree. The leaves 

 were about half -grown and half -colored, which 

 means that they displayed an elegance of tex- 

 ture and hue most pleasing to see. And the 

 flowers — there they were, hanging under the 

 twigs in long clusters of what I might describe 

 as ends of chenille, if it were not irreverent to 

 compare these delicate greenish catkins with 

 anything man-made! 



172 



