The Flowering of the Forest Trees 65 
Nevertheless, all the forest-trees bloom. After 
the long, bitter December nights, and after the 
beating tempests of the equinox, they, too, like 
dear, quaint George Herbert, ‘‘ bud again.’’ They 
respond fully to the call of spring, and break forth 
not only into tender leaf, but into blossom, 
too. 
But the floral efforts of the trees receive little 
attention from the public at large. Their flowers 
are, as a rule, small, green, and inconspicuous, and 
appearing, as they do, just when we are looking 
for the bursting of the leaf-buds, they are often 
mistaken, by the casual observer, for half-unfolded 
leaves; and they are often almost inaccessible, 
growing on the swaying tops of upper branches. 
Even when one gathers these tree-blossoms, and 
examines them closely, few of them are found to 
** under- 
look at all like flowers, as that term is 
standed of the people.’’ For ‘‘a flower’’ to the 
laity means a cluster of delicate or brilliant little 
leaves, generally conspicuous, and often fragrant. 
But ‘‘a flower’’ to the botanist may mean a 
bunch of tiny greenish or brownish threads, insig- 
nificant-looking and odorless. 
Few of the blossoms borne by the forest-trees 
have either petals or fragrance. 
