THE BEECH 107 
and Tilburstow as on the chalk at Betchworth and 
Norbury. The hills of Gloucestershire on either 
side of the Severn, though ot very different geologi- 
cal ages, bear some splendid woods of Beech; the 
chalk hills of Buckinghamshire (a county that owes 
its names to its former wealth of “ buck” or beech- 
mast) still supply the chairmakers of High 
Wycombe; and the Londoner glories alike in the 
grand old pollards of Burnham in that county, and 
in the mostly younger, but often unlopped, trees 
in the forest of Epping, in Essex—both now pre- 
served to him and his successors in perpetuity by 
the City Corporation. 
Though not glossy, like that of the Birch, the 
smooth, olive-grey bark of the Beech gives it a 
charm even in the winter months. Then, too, 
though the lower boughs are often still decked 
with the crisp, dead leaves of the previous year, 
which reflect each transient sungleam from their 
surfaces of polished copper, we can see most 
clearly the splendid outlines of this king of the 
forests. Its roots spread far and close together to 
gain a firm footing that the gale can seldom over- 
come, and above them towers the smooth, unbroken, 
pillar-like stem, often seen with a girth of from 
fifteen to twenty feet, and reaching as many feet in 
height without a branch. When not pollarded, the 
Beech frequently bifurcates naturally, each branch, 
of which there may sometimes be three or four, 
rising vertically, “each in itself a tree,’ like the 
clustered columns of a Gothic aisle. From the 
main branches sweep outwards the more knotted 
