28 
THE) STORY OF THE) OAK TRE)E) 
blossoms—fluffy white and glowing pink—about the fra¬ 
grant hawthorne and every other brilliantly blossoming 
tree. They commence with April and go right through 
to June, and then when they 
get to June they can pick 
up a fresh start with roses. 
It is all very pretty, only I 
think they make a great mis¬ 
take in leaving out the oak 
tree. 
The oak does not make a 
brilliant show with blossoms; 
I doubt if you have ever even 
noticed the shy flowering 
sprays drooping among her branches, but the little new 
oak leaves can play the most wonderful tricks with color 
as they uncurl and grow. When the leaves of the white 
oak unfold from the bud they are spread with a silky 
down which shimmers in the sun with silver mistiness. 
Day by day these little leaves pass through soft and 
pearly changes of delicate pink and silvery white until 
they reach their yellow green maturity. 
You may be sure that canny old Mother Nature did 
not design these oak leaves solely that we might enjoy 
their beauty. Everything in this living world has its use 
and does its work, every plant and every lowly animal. 
Chestnut Oak leaves 
