was green;" and the next moment
"the baby" was fast asleep, but Miss Harson was afraid that she had
taken the snake with her to the land of Nod, so restless was her sleep.

"I hope the yellow birch is yellow," said Clara again.

"We will see what is said of its color," replied her governess, "and
here it is: 'Distinguished by its yellowish bark, of a soft silken
texture and silvery or pearly lustre,' It is a large tree, and has been
named _excelsa_--'lofty'--because of its height. The slender, flowing
branches are very graceful, and the tree is often as symmetrical as a
fine elm, but droops less. The roots of the yellow birch seem to enjoy
getting above the ground and twisting themselves in a very fantastic
manner, and, taken altogether, it is a strikingly handsome and
ornamental tree. The wood was at one time much liked for fuel, and many
of the logs were of immense size."

"Now," said Malcolm, gleefully, "the canoe birch has _got_ to come next,
because there isn't anything else to come."

"That is an excellent reason," replied Miss Harson, "and the canoe birch
it shall be. There is more to be said of it than of any of the others,
and it also grows in greater quantities. Thick woods of it are found in
Maine and New Hampshire--for it loves a cold climate--and in other
Northern portions of the country. The tall trunks of the trees resemble
pillars of polished marble supporting a canopy of bright-green foliage.
The leaves are something of a heart-shape, and their vivid summer green
turns to golden tints in autumn. The bark of the canoe birch is almost
snowy white on the outside, and very prettily marked with fine brown
stripes two or three inches long, which go around the trunk. This bark
is very smooth and soft, and it is easily separated into very thin
sheets. For this reason the tree is often called the paper birch, and
the smooth, thin layers of bark make very good writing-paper when none
other can be had."

"Oh, Miss Harson!" exclaimed Clara; "did you ever see any that was
written on?"

"Yes," was the reply; "I once wrote a letter on some myself."

"Did you _really_?" cried two eager voices. "How _could_ you? Oh, do
tell us about it!"

"I was making a visit at a village in Maine," said their governess,
"where the beautiful trees are to be seen in all their perfection, and I
thought it would be appropriate to write a letter from there on birch
bark. So I split my bark very thin and got a respectable sheet of