ts to mark the branch as a
"leader."

Years ago I became fascinated with the study of knots and knot-holes
in the timber of wood-piles. They are excellent records of the events
in the life of trees. In print I have tried to show what they mean. I
also worked out the life-histories of twigs and published them in
nature-study leaflets and elsewhere. Hundreds of children were
interested in the twigs and buds, finding them unusual, every one of
them a different story, and yet not difficult to read. These lessons
gave meaning to trees and seasons. Such observations have always meant
much to me, even when made in the most casual way in the midst of
constraining activities. And now in this later day I come back to a
bare twig with all the joy of youth. The records of the years are in
these piles of brush.

VI

THE PRUNING OF THE APPLE-TREE

We have found that not all the buds grow. We also know that some of
the spurs and shoots perish, not alone from accident but from defeat
in the struggle to live. The chances of success are relatively few.
The pruning process begins early in the life of the tree, and it
continues ceaselessly until the end.

To the apple-tree in the wild, strict pruning is the assurance of
success. No tree can reach maturity unless more parts perish than are
able to live. The young forest tree has branchlets and leaves along
its side and at the top. All these perish as the trunk rises, often
leaving marks on the bark, curls in the wood, and knot-holes large and
small. Thousands of perished buds and branches are the price of a
straight bole and great clear sheets of boards. Yet these perished
parts bore their burden in their day and time, and contributed to the
ultimate success: there could have been no tree without them.

Any tree-top discloses the pruning in action if one looks intently.
Part of it is recorded in the buds that never put forth a leaf; more
of it in little shoots left behind; and there are large and small
limbs, dead and dying, yellowing apparently before their time, hanging
on till the last hold is broken. Were it not for the benevolent
processes of decay, the ground would be strewn with the fallen parts
accumulating through the years.

In nature, the great result is to yield abundant quantity of seeds,
that the species may propagate itself after its kind. Man may desire
fruits relatively few, but large of size and excellent of quality,
without spot or blemish; this means gr