_BEAUTY AND GRACE: THE ASH_.
"What tree comes next, Miss Harson?" asked Clara, on an April day that
was mild enough for the piazza. "You told us so many interesting things
about the oak that I suppose we needn't expect to hear of another tree
like that."
"No," was the reply; "not just like that, perhaps, for the oak is grand
and venerable above all our familiar trees, but the ash, which is more
especially an American tree, belongs to a large and interesting family,
and I am quite sure that you will very much like to hear something about
it. I have put it next to the oak because there is a sort of rivalry
between the two as to which can get on its spring dress the soonest, and
an old English rhyme says,
"'If the oak's before the ash,
Then you may expect a splash;
But if the ash is 'fore the oak,
Then you must beware a soak.'"
"That must mean," said Malcolm, after considering this rather puzzling
verse, "that it'll rain any way."
"I think it does," replied Miss Harson, with a smile at Malcolm's air of
deep thought, "and it is quite safe to say that in England. But, as 'a
soak' sounds more serious than 'a splash,' it is to be hoped that the
ash will not get ahead of the oak. I do not know what they are doing in
England this year, but here the oak is a day or two ahead. The foliage
of the ash is entirely different, as it has _pinnate_ leaves, which
means leaves arranged in two rows, one on each side of a common stem, or
_petiole_, like--What, Clara?"
"Rose-leaves," was the prompt reply.
"And leaves of the locust trees on the other side of the road," added
Malcolm.
[Illustration: THE COMMON ASH.]
"And the sumac," said their governess, "and a number of others that
might be mentioned. This kind of foliage is always graceful, and the
ash is one of our largest and handsomest trees. It is said to be more
common in America than in any other part of the globe. In Europe,
because of its beauty, it is called the painter's tree. It is a
particularly neat and regular-looking tree, and its smooth gray trunk
is higher than that of most trees before any branches appear. Where is
there a tree on the grounds answering this description, Malcolm?"
"Down at the end of the vegetable-garden," was the reply, "and close
beside the laundry."
[Illustration: AMERICAN WHITE ASH.]
"Yes; you are really learning to distinguish trees very well. There are
several species--the white, red, black and mountain ash. The white ash
is a graceful tree, rising in the forest to the height of seventy or
eighty feet, with a straight trunk and a diameter of three feet or more
at the base. On an open plain it throws out its branches, with a gentle
double curvature, to a distance on every side, and forms a broad, round
head of great beauty. The flowers of the ash are greenish white in color
and appear with the leaves in loose clusters. 'The trunk of our largest
American ash is covered with a whitish bark which in very young trees is
nearly smooth; on older trees it is broken by deep furrows into
irregular plates, and on very old stems it becomes smooth again, from
the rough plates scaling off. The branches are grayish green dotted with
gray or white.' Now who can tell _me_ something about this tree?"
"I know that furniture is made of the wood," said Clara, "because that
pretty set in the large spare-room is ash. And it is very
light-colored."
"The wood is used for a great many things," replied Miss Harson, "and
the ash has been called the husbandman's tree because the timber is so
much in demand for farming-implements, and for articles that need to be
both strong and light. It does not last so long as the oak, but it is
more elastic and can better resist sudden shocks and jerks; it is
therefore particularly desirable for the spokes of wheels and ladders
and the beams of floors. Staircases were made of it in olden times, and
they may still be found in some English halls and abbeys. The forest ash
makes better oars than any other wood, and the tree has so many good
qualities that an old English poet spoke of it as
"'The ash for nothing ill.'
"But Malcolm looks as if he had something to say, and I shall be very
happy to hear it."
"It is only about the red berries that they bear in autumn, Miss Harson;
it looks queer to see berries growing on a tree."
"The mountain ash is the only one that has berries," replied his
governess, "and the bloom is in clusters of white flowers. The berries
are sometimes dark red and often of a bright scarlet, and they remain on
the tree during the winter, to the great delight of the birds. We should
find them very sour, although pretty to look at; but the little
feathered wanderers eat them with great relish when the snows of winter
make bird-food scarce and the bright-red berries gleam out most
invitingly. In some parts of Europe the berries are dried and ground
into flour. The rowan, or roan, tree is the English name of the mountain
ash, and in some parts of Great Britain it is called _witchen_, because
of its supposed power against witches and evil spirits and all their
spells. In old times branches of it were hung about houses and stables
and cow-sheds, for it was thought that
"'witches have no power
Where there is roan-tree wood.'"
"But that isn't true, is it?" asked Edith.
"No, dear, not true of either the witches or the wood. But ignorant
people believe a great many foolish things, and the leaves and twigs of
the ash tree were thought to have peculiar virtue. In some places it was
once the practice to pluck an ash-leaf in every case where the leaflets
were of even number, and to say,
"'Even ash, I do thee pluck,
Hoping thus to meet good luck;
If no luck I get from thee,
Better far be on the tree.'"
"It sounds like what children say on finding a four-leafed clover," said
Clara.
"It is on the same principle," was the reply, "for clover-leaves grow
naturally in threes and ash-leaves in sevens. Both rhymes are equally
silly where luck is concerned, and those who believe God's words--that
even 'the hairs of our head are all numbered'--will have no faith in
'luck.' In old times the ash was believed to perform wonderful cures of
various kinds, and in remote parts of England a little mouse called the
shrew-mouse bore a very bad character. If a horse or cow had pains in
its limbs, they were said to be caused by a shrew-mouse running over it.
Our forefathers provided themselves with what they called a shrew-ash,
in order to meet the case. The shrew-ash was nothing more than an ash
tree in the trunk of which a hole had been bored and a poor little
shrew-mouse put in, with many charms and incantations happily long since
forgotten."
"And couldn't the poor little mouse get out again?" asked Edith.
"I am afraid not, dear; and we can only rejoice that we did not live in
those dark days. Among other beliefs in its virtues, the leaves and
wood of the ash were regarded throughout Northern Europe as a protection
from all manner of snakes, and in harvest-time children were suspended
in their cradles from the branches of tall ash trees while their mothers
were working in the harvest-field below. Even now serpents are said to
dislike the tree so much that they will not come near it, and the leaf
is considered a cure for the bite of a poisonous snake. I have been told
that an ash-leaf rubbed on a mosquito-bite will at once take out the
sting and itching, and no better remedy can be found for the sting of a
bee or a wasp."
"It's ever so much nicer than mud," said Clara, who had rather a talent
for getting into hornets' nests.
"But the mud, you see, is always to be had," replied Miss Harson, "while
ash-leaves do not grow everywhere; and I do not know that they have any
power to cure the sting.
"The other species of ash found in this country are not so important as
the white, but the black ash is remarkable as the slenderest deciduous
tree of its height to be found in the forest. It is often seventy or
eighty feet tall, with a trunk not more than a foot around. The color of
the trunk is a dark granite-gray and the bark is rough. The wood is
remarkable for its toughness, and for making baskets the Indians prefer
it to any other, except the trunk of a young white oak.
"The red ash is very much like the white, but the wood is less valuable.
It is a spreading, broad-headed tree, and the trunk is erect and
branching. It is not so tall as the black ash, yet its trunk is three
times as thick.
"A species of ash grows in Sicily that yields a substance called _manna_
which used to be valuable as a medicine, and this manna is obtained in
the same way as maple-sap--by making holes or incisions in the bark of
the tree. At the proper season the persons whose business it is to
collect manna begin to make incisions, one after the other, up the stem.
The manna flows out like clear water, but it soon congeals and becomes
a solid substance. It has a sweet taste, and while in a liquid state
runs into a leaf of the tree that has been inserted in the wound.
Afterward it flows into a vessel placed below, from which it is carried
away and shipped off to other countries."
"Is there any story about the ash?" asked Malcolm.
"Not much of a story, dear," was the reply--"only a little legend of the
manna trees; but, such as it is, you shall have it:
"The king of Naples, it is said, fenced a number of trees round and
forbade any to collect the store they yielded unless they paid a
tribute. By this means the royal revenue would be largely increased.
But, according to the story, the manna trees, as if they disapproved of
this ungenerous arrangement, refused to yield any manna, and suddenly
became bare and barren. Upon this the king, finding his scheme a
failure, revoked the tax and took away the fence. Then the trees poured
out their manna, as usual, in the greatest abundance; so that it was
said, 'When the king found he could not make a gain of what Providence
had freely bestowed, he gave up the attempt and left the manna as free
as God had given it.'
[Illustration: THE SWING.]
"There, now!" said Miss Harson; "after this long talk, you had better
run off and see if there is not a tree somewhere on the grounds, with
two ropes attached to it, that will bear better fruit than any tree we
have studied yet."
The trio laughed and raced for the swing, which was first reached by
Clara, who seated herself all ready for the push which Malcolm would not
grudge, for he pronounced his sister sweeter than apple or peach; and
so she was.