THE WILLOW. 
61 
tered along the road-side, and a bimch of the golden flowers of 
the marsh marigold, which enticed us off the road into a low, 
boggy spot, by their bright blossoms ; a handsome flower, this — 
the country people call it cowslip, though diff'ering entirely from 
the true plant of that name. 
The golden willows are coming into leaf. The weeping willow 
is not seen here, our winters are too severe for it. Some persons 
think, that by watching a young tree carefully, and giving it sev- 
eral years to take root, without being discouraged by its slow 
growth, it would in time become acclimated ; the experiment is 
now going on, but its success is very doubtful. At present, there 
is no weeping willow within some distance of us, excepting a cou- 
ple of young nurslings in gardens of the village. Not that we 
are too far north for this tree, since it is found, even on this con- 
tinent, in a higher latitude than our own. which is 42° 50'; but 
the elevation of this highland valley abovt the sea, usually called 
1200 feet, gives us a cooler chmate than we should otherwise 
have. The native willows of America are numerous, but they are 
all small trees, many mere bushes ; the tallest in our own neigh- 
borhood, are about five-and-twenty feet high. The golden wil- 
low of Europe, however, is common here, and thrives very well, 
attaining its full size ; some of these in the village are very hand- 
some trees ; they are now just putting out their first tender green 
leaflets, which, as they grow larger, take a much graver color. 
When we read of those willows of Babylon, in whose shade 
the children of Israel sat down and wept, thousands of years ago, 
we naturally think of the weeping willow which we all know to 
be an Asiatic tree. But the other day, while reading an obser- 
vation of a celebrated Easter?: traveller, the idea suggested itself, 
