148 



THE YOUNG NATURALIST. 



nothing can more admirably display 

 its amazing vitality ; the undeveloped 

 buds, which have lain dormant for 

 years, now burst into activity, and a 

 multitude of young twigs spring forth 

 from its old stumps. This process is 

 repeated time after time till the aged 

 stocks assume the dimensions of trees, 

 and the life of a hedge be prolonged 

 for centuries. The wood of hawthorn 

 is remarkably tough, dense, and hard, 

 but from its liability to warp is not of 

 much economic importance, being 

 chiefly used for tool handles, and the 

 young shoots for walking sticks. The 

 old wood has a reddish hue, and the 

 cambium or inner layers of the bark 

 acquires a yellowish tinge on exposure 

 to the air. When burned the wood of 

 the hawthorn evolves an extraordinary 

 degree of heat, hence it is in request 

 for the heating of furnaces, and is pre- 

 ferred by fish curers in the preparation 

 of smoke-dried fish. 



Passing from the economic to the 

 sentimental, the hawthorn has always 

 been a favourite tree with the poets 

 and lovers whose assignations were 

 often arranged at the "tyrsting thorn.'" 

 Burns frequently alludes to it as the 

 "hawthorn hoar" and "milkwhite 

 thorn"; and he did not fail to notice 

 what every school-boy knows how its 

 dense foliage makes it so suitable for 

 nest building : — 



" Within the milk-white hawthorn bush, 

 Among her nestlings sits the thrush." 



And again— 



" The hawthorn I will pu' 



Wi' its locks o' siller gray, 

 Where like an aged man, 



It stands at break of day. 

 But the songster's nest within the bush 



I winna tak away — 

 And a' to be a posie 



To my ain dear May." 



Shakspeare says : — 

 " Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter 

 shade 



To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, 



Than doth a rich embroidered canopy 



To kings, that fear their subjects treachery." 



And Milton adds : — • 



" And every shepherd tells his tale, 

 Under the hawthorn in the dale." 



Kirke White speaks of — 

 " The mossy seat beneath the hawthorn's 

 shade," 

 and again — 



*' On the upland stile embowered 

 With fragrant hawthorn, snowy flowered, 

 Will sauntering sit." 



As may be readily supposed, numer- 

 ous legends cluster round so popular 

 a flower. The famous Glastonbury 

 thorn was believed to have originated 

 from a sprig of the crown of thorns, 

 and hence it was believed to blossom 

 annually at Christmas. Although, 

 apart from its fanciful origin, this 

 precocious budding — for it is really 

 only putting forth leaves, and not 

 flowers, at this early date — is shared 

 by a good many hawthorn trees, es- 

 pecially in mild seasons. Another 

 legend of perhaps greater historical 

 value is that the crown of England was 



