this harmless animal. In many parts of the highlands of Scotland, at the birth of a child, the nurse 
puts one end of a green stick of this tree into the fire, and, while it is burning, receives into a spoon the 
sap or juice, which oozes out at the other end, and administers this as the first spoonful of liquor to the new 
born babe. 
The facility with which the ash is propagated, and adapts itself to any soil or situation, even the worst; 
the quickness of its growth ; and the general demand for the timber, in every part of the country, for a 
variety of rural and economical purposes ; recommend this tree very much to the planter. 
The Ash, says a writer in the Library of Entertaining Knowledge, is by way of eminence, called 
“The Husbandman’s Tree,” nothing being equal to it for agricultural implements, and for all sorts of poles, 
ladders, long handles, and other purposes which require strength and elasticity, combined with comparative 
lightness. At all ages the growth of the ash is of value ; the thinnings of your plantations, and the suckers 
that spring up from the roots of grown trees, or from the stools of trees that have been cut down, are ex- 
cellent for hoops, hop-poles, and every other purpose where clean, light, and strong rods are wanted at 
small expense. The leaves, and even the twigs, are eaten by cattle with great avidity ; the bark is useful 
in tanning ; and the wood yields, when burnt a considerable quantity of potash. 
Gilpin, in his work on Forest Scenery, calls the Oak the Hercules of the Forest ; and the Ash the 
Venus. The chief characteristic of the one, is strength ; of the other, elegance. The Ash carries its prin- 
cipal stem higher than the Oak ; its whole appearance is that of lightness, and the looseness of the leaves 
corresponds with the lightness of the spray. Its bloom is one of the most beautiful appearances of vege- 
tation. The Ash, however, drops its leaves very early ; and instead of contributing its tint to the many 
coloured foliage of the autumnal woods, it presents wide blanks of desolated boughs. In old age, too, it 
loses that grandeur and beauty which the Oak preserves. 
“If the oak,” says Professor Burnett, “is the noblest, the ash is the most elegant of our native trees ; 
if the one is the king, the other is the queen of our forests. Its graceful port and the light airiness of its 
foliage are proverbial; and well was it termed by Virgil “ Pulcherrima sylvis.” The ash is not only beau- 
tiful but useful; it yields a valuable timber, much in request by wheelwrights, and for the manufacture of 
instruments for husbandry. Its bark is bitter, and has been used as a febrifuge ; and its leaves, which have 
a similar flavor, have been frequently employed to adulterate tea. Willich, indeed, says that, as a tonic, 
they are superior to the China drug. They are also said to be decidedly cathartic, but less so than those 
of senna. Pliny tells us, that the ash is obnoxious to serpents; and branches are often hung about 
children’s beds to keep off the gnats.” 
For the following quotation we are indebted to that ingenious little work “The Sentiment of 
Flowers :” 
There is a singular allegory in the Edda, which states that the gods hold their court under the shade 
of a miraculous ash, whose extensive branches shadow the whole surface of the earth ; the top of the tree 
touches the heavens, and its roots descend to the regions of Pluto. An eagle constantly reposes on 
the tree, to observe every thing, and a squirrel continually ascends and descends to make report. Be- 
neath its roots flow two fountains. In the one wisdom is concealed, and in the other is found the 
knowledge of things to come. Three virgins are entrusted with the charge of this sacred tree, who ever 
remain under its branches to refresh the tree -with these salutary waters, which, on falling back on the earth, 
form a dew that produces honey. This effect has been ingeniously compared to the results of inventive 
science. 
The Ash is the emblem of grandeur. 
Leigh Hunt says of the Ash, in his “ Indicator:” Infinite are the spears with which it has supplied the 
warlike, the sticks it has put into the hands of a less sanguinary courage, the poles it has furnished for hops, 
vines, &c., and the arbours which it has run up over lovers. The Greek name for it was Melia, or the 
Honied; from a juice or manna which it drops, and which has been much used in medicine and dyeing. 
There are, or were about forty years back, when Count Ginanni wrote his History of the Ravenna Pine 
Forest, large ash woods in Tuscany, which used to be tapped for those purposes. Virgil calls it the hand- . 
somest tree in the forest ; Chaucer “ the hardie ashe ; and Spenser, with an eulogy exclusively perfect, 
“ the ash for nothing ill.” 
