Shakspeare, in the “ Taming of the Shrew,” says, — 
“ Kate, like the hazel twig, is straight anti slender; and brown in hue 
as hazel nuts, and sweeter than the kernels." 
And Thomson, whom no rural sound or sight escapes, 
describing the various haunts which different birds 
select for their nests, mentions some as choosing 
-“ shaggy banks. 
Steep and divided by a babbling brook, 
Whose murmurs soothe them all the livelong day 
When by kind duty fix’d. Among the roots 
Of hazel, pendent o’er the plaintive stream, 
They form the first foundation of their domes.” 
These are but a few of the poetical notices of this 
rural favourite; but it has other and dearer claims on 
our regard than those which arise from its classical 
fame. “ When we think of the lovely scenes into 
which the careless steps of our youth have been led,” 
says a writer we have frequently quoted, “ in search 
of its nuts, when autumn had begun to brown the 
points of their clusters, we are bound to it by threads 
of the most delightful associations with those beloved 
