Part 20

In Cambridgeshire there is a festival called Cherry Sunday, when every one goes to the Cherry orchard, and on paying sixpence may eat as many cherries as he pleases.

For some unknown reason the cuckoo has always been associated with the Cherry tree. There is an old proverb which says, “The cuckoo never sings till he has thrice eaten his fill of cherries”; and country children play a delightful game in which he has a part. They join hands and dance round a Cherry tree, singing--

“Cuckoo, Cherry tree, Come down and tell to me, How many years I have to live.”

Then each child shakes one of the Cherry tree branches, and the number of cherries that fall tell him how many years he will live. If five cherries fall he has five years to live, and if twelve cherries fall he will live twelve years, and so on.

There is a cunning little bird called the woodpecker which very often visits the Cherry tree. He eats the insects that live on its bark; and you can hear his bill peck, pecking at the trunk as he picks up his food.

The wood of the Cherry tree is hard, yet easily worked. It is much in demand by furniture makers, and is a rich red colour which can be highly polished.

PLATE XXV

THE WHITEBEAM

In the old Saxon language, which was once the language spoken by most of the people in England, the word beam means a tree, so we must be careful not to speak of the Whitebeam tree, as that would be just the same as to say the White tree tree.

The Whitebeam (1) is not nearly so common as the Oak, or the Ash or Beech, and yet it has been known in this country for many hundred years. It is found growing stiff and tall on bleak chalky pastures as well as in beautiful parks and plantations. The trunk is covered with a rough brown bark, and there are great deep roots which spread widely and keep the tree firmly attached to the soil.

THE WHITEBEAM

1. Whitebeam 2. Flower Cluster with Leaves 3. Fruit Cluster with Leaves]

It is easy to see why this tree is called the Whitebeam. Look at the fat buds which have been on the tree all winter, making you think that spring was close at hand. In April these buds burst open, and you see that the young leaves inside are covered with a thick coating of woolly down. They are the woolliest buds which grow in this country, and the leaves (2), when they first come out, are as white as if they had been sprinkled with flour. They are pretty leaves, broad and oval, with large teeth cut all round the edge and with clearly-marked veins. At first each leaf is white above as well as below, but as it gets older the woolly down disappears from the upper side, and the leaf becomes a dark, glossy green. But watch the tree some day when the wind is stirring, and at every gust the dark green leaves blow upwards and sideways, and you will see that the back of each leaf is silvery white--the woolly lining has remained. You remember that the white Poplar or Abele tree had leaves which were white-lined too.

The flowers of the Whitebeam (2) resemble those of the Rowan, but they are larger and are not so closely clustered together on their short stalks. Each flower has five pointed green sepals standing out like the rays of a star beneath the circle of five white petals. There is a ring of delicate stamens with yellow heads within the petal circle, and the seeds are concealed in the pear-shaped swelling which supports the flower at the end of the flower stalk. There are often dark spots on the main flower stem from which all the smaller ones branch.

After the white petals and the stamens have fallen off, the swollen flower stalk enlarges and becomes an oval berry (3), considerably larger than that of the Rowan. At first the berries are covered with white down, but soon that wears off, and you see that the berries are smooth and are a rich red colour. They are not good to eat, these attractive-looking berries, though people say they are pleasant when over-ripe and ready to decay. But the birds love them, and so do hedgehogs and squirrels.

In France the people plant a great many Whitebeams. This is because the small birds require the berries for food in the winter, when there are no longer grubs and insects to be found. These grubs and insects destroy the vines and corn when they are young and tender in early spring, and the small birds are needed because they eat these pests, and so save the young plants.

The wood of the Whitebeam is not much used, though small objects, such as wooden spoons, knife handles, and combs, are made of it. It is very hard, and will take a high polish.

PLATE XXVI

THE ROWAN OR MOUNTAIN ASH

“Their spells were vain, the boy returned To the Queen in sorrowful mood, Crying that witches have no power Where there is Roan tree wood.”

--Old Song.

The Rowan tree is closely related to the roses, and is a cousin of the Hawthorn, the Apple, and the Pear. It is not related in any way to the Ash, but the leaves have some resemblance, because, like the Ash tree leaves, they are made up of many pairs of small leaflets growing opposite each other on each side of a centre stalk, and with an odd leaflet at the end. But the leaflets of the Ash tree have each a stalk; those in the Rowan have none, and in the Ash tree each large feathery leaf is planted exactly opposite its neighbour, while in the Rowan the leaves grow alternately. The name Mountain Ash is a mistake.

THE ROWAN

1. Rowan Tree in Autumn 2. Flower Cluster 3. Leaves and Fruit]

The Rowan tree (1) is seen at its best among the wild glens and mountains of the north and west of Scotland. It requires air and light, and will flourish in almost any kind of soil, and many are the tales which are woven round the life of this beautiful tree. It is called the Roan, or whispering tree, because it has secrets to tell to those who will listen. No witches or evil spirits can cross a door over which a branch of Rowan is nailed, and no harm will happen to him who has a sprig of Rowan pinned to his coat. In every churchyard in Wales a Rowan tree is planted to scare away demons who might disturb the sleep of the dead; and on lonely farms high up on the mountain sides, the Witchin, or Wiggin tree, as it used to be called, is placed close beside the dwelling-house.

The Rowan is not a large tree; it grows easily and requires no pruning, as its branches rarely die, and the tree never loses its graceful shape. The branches are wiry and slender, and they all point upward. The bark is a dark purple colour and is glossy and smooth; across it there are many curious deep gashes, as if the tree had been scored with a knife.

The Rowan is often planted in new coppices to shield the young trees, but as soon as these grow up and throw out many branches, they stifle their kind nurse, which cannot grow without plenty of light and air.

Early in spring the Rowan buds appear, fat woolly buds covered with grey cottony down. The young leaves (3) are carefully packed inside among plenty of cotton wool, and very downy they look when they first come out. Each leaflet is toothed round the edge, and is dark glossy green above and much paler green underneath. These leaves remain on the tree till late in autumn, then when the frost touches them with its icy fingers they change to wonderful shades of gold and scarlet and pink, and they fall with the October winds.