Much might be said here in commendation of the sassafras tree, were it economically more important. Its brown, sculptured bark is very attractive, and its yellowish blossoms, that break in early spring, are fragrant. The leaves are of several shades of green, and vary considerably in outline. When in full leaf, the outward form of the tree is striking in appearance, its foliage being massed into rounded and hemispherical shapes that group themselves in the crown of the tree in well-proportioned and tasteful outlines.

The birches, too, are very attractive trees, especially where they have ample room to develop. The white birch appears at its best where it is sprinkled in moderation among open groves of other trees. To the forester it is of some importance, as its seedlings rapidly cover denuded or burnt areas. They also shield from excessive sunlight or from frost the seedlings of more valuable kinds that may have sprouted in their welcome shade; until, gaining strength, the latter after a few years push up their tops between the open foliage of their protecting “nurses.” The white birch may be seen performing this good office in many a fire-scarred piece of woodland throughout the Northeastern States. Often, too, we see it standing a little apart, as at the edge of a forest; its slender branches drooping around the pure white trunk and its agile leaves gleaming as they wave in the light breeze. It is like one of those single notes in music that glide into universal harmony with irresistible charm.

The yellow birch, on the contrary, is most beautiful in the depth of the forest. It is a large, useful tree. In the Adirondacks I have often admired its tall, straight trunk as it rose above the neighboring firs and spruces and unfolded its large, regular crown of dense dark foliage, relieved underneath by the thin, shining, silvery to golden-yellow bark, torn here and there into shreds that curled back upon themselves around the stem.

The white elm, well represented in the avenues of New England, is widely distributed. It is a tree for the meadow, although its natural grace and, one might almost say, inborn gentleness are preserved along the fringes of the forest and on the banks of streams. It needs some room to show the refinement of its closely interwoven spray. Watch its beauty as it sways in the light wind; or look at a grove of elms after a hoar-frost on some early morning in winter, when the leaves are gone and all its outlines are penciled in finest silver.

The flowering dogwood is one of our smaller trees, but is exceptionally favored with all manner of beauty. Although it is very common in many of the States, and is not without its special uses, it occupies a subordinate position in the eyes of the forester, being often no more than a mere shrub in form. And yet, while some of the larger trees by their majestic presence lend grandeur to the forest, the dogwood brings to it a charm not easily forgotten. In spring, when it is showered all over with interesting, large, creamy-white flowers, it is an emblem of purity. Its leaves, which appear very soon after the bloom, are elegantly curved in outline, soft of texture, light-green in summer, and of a deep crimson or rich purple-maroon in autumn.[2] In winter the flowers are replaced by bright, red berries. Its spray of twigs and branchlets, formed by a succession of exquisitely proportioned waves and upward curves, is not as conspicuous, though hardly less ornamental at this season than the fruit.

The Dogwood in Bloom

As a shrub, being among the very first to bloom, it decorates the forest borders in spring, or stands conspicuously within the forest. It is found everywhere in the Appalachian region. In the coastal plain it is associated with the longleaf pine, or may be seen among broadleaf trees, or standing among red junipers, as tall as they and quite at home in their company.

Before turning to coniferous trees, the tulip tree deserves some attention on account of its usefulness, its extended habitat, and its beauty as a forest tree. It is closely related to the magnolias, to which belongs the big laurel of the Gulf region, an evergreen species that might be called the queen of all broadleaf trees. But the big laurel must here give place to the tulip tree, because it is not so distinctively a forest tree, and is much more restricted in its geographical distribution.