urring shoots of the parent trees, and they
will escape and destroy the weeping form which provides so much
sarcastic hilarity for the passers-by.

The willow, with its blood relation, the poplar, is often "pollarded,"
or trimmed for wood, and its abundant vigor enables it to recover from
this process of violent abbreviation more satisfactorily than do most
trees. The result is usually a disproportionately large stem or bole,
for the lopping off of great branches always tends to a thickening of
the main stem. The abundant leafage of both willow and poplar soon
covers the scars, and there is less cause to mourn than in the case of
maples or other "hard-wooded" trees.

If my readers will only add a willow section to their mental observation
outfit, there will be much more to see and appreciate. Look for and
enjoy in the winter the variation in twig color and bark hue; notice how
smoothly lies the covering on one stem, all rugged and marked on
another. In the earliest spring examine the swelling buds, of widely
differing color and character, from which shortly will spring forth the
catkins or aments of bloom, followed by the leaves of varied colors in
the varied species, and with shapes as varied. Vivid green, soft gray,
greenish yellow; dull surface and shining surface above, pale green to
almost pure white beneath; from the long and stringy leaf of the weeping
willow to the comparatively broad and thick leaf of the
pussy-willow--there is variety and interest in the foliage well worth
the attention of the tree-lover. When winter comes, there will be
another set of contrasts to see in the way the various species lose
their leaves and get ready for the rest time during which the buds
mature and ripen, and the winter colors again shine forth.

[Illustration: Clump of young white willows]

These observations may be made anywhere in America, practically, for the
willow is almost indifferent to locality, growing everywhere that its
far-reaching roots can find the moisture which it loves, and which it
rapidly transpires to the thirsty air. As Miss Keeler well remarks, "The
genus Salix is admirably fitted to go forth and inhabit the earth, for
it is tolerant of all soils and asks only water. It creeps nearer to the
North Pole than any other woody plant except its companion the birch. It
trails upon the ground or rises one hundred feet in the air. In North
America it follows the water-courses to the limit of the temperate zone,