46 
NATURE NOTES. 
HORSE CHESTNUT BUDS, 
Through budding woods the fair young Spring 
Laughing and gaily carolling 
Trips hither on her wayward feet ; 
and while she is still far distant, all living things prepare to* 
greet her. Nor is the horse chestnut behindhand. Before the 
snow has disappeared every branch has lost the weary down- 
ward curve of autumn, and springs with fresh vigour upwards, 
while the tip of each twig glistens like a star in the sunshine. 
The tree has decked itself in diamonds to greet the coming 
Spring. 
When we look more closely for the cause of this brilliance 
we see that the large oval buds are sheathed in many bracts or 
leaf-scales overlapping each other, and coated on the outside 
with a sticky kind of varnish which reflects the light. 
If we dissect a bud, or better still, watch it slowly unfolding 
day by day, we shall see that these scales are not all alike. 
The bud contains a central stem, on which these scales are 
arranged in sets or whorls of four, each whorl alternating with 
that below it. The lower outermost scales are broad, hard, 
and woody ; each whorl becomes longer and more leaf-like as 
it approaches the apex of the stem. The innermost of all are 
very transparent at the edges. They are generally green within, 
and brown or pink without. The outside of each is sticky, the 
inside lined with soft hairs. If the branch is in a sheltered 
place these scales remain and grow longer as the bud slowly un- 
folds, and within them is seen a conical mass covered with fine 
pink hairs resembling wool, with faintly marked green ridges on 
its surface. These are baby leaves, covered on both sides with 
“wool.” They are folded like tiny fans ; each leaflet with its 
under surface turned away from the centre. Slowly the woolly 
cone pushes its way through the sheltering scales, and very 
gradually 
Grey boss ches'nut’s leetle hands unfold 
Softer ’n a baby’s be at three days old. 
But they come out into a cold world, and for some days the 
little hands droop in a miserable fashion, as if they would fain 
be back again in the soft warm cradle in which kind old mother 
Nature has hidden them so long. Then the warm sun kisses 
them, and the Spring winds whisper that their rough play is 
kindly meant, and they learn confidence and spread themselves 
upwards and outwards to meet their friends. 
Then the “ wool ” gradually disappears, clinging longest to 
the veins on the under side, and the scales, no longer needed, 
fall away, leaving rings of scars behind, which remain as long as 
the tree lives, each set marking the birthday of a branch. The 
baby stem, hardly^ an inch long in March, may lengthen out two 
feet by midsummer and bear many leaves, or be checked in its 
growth by a cluster of flowers. 
