foreign tree,' and was much admired. It is supposed to have come
from India. The large nuts are like chestnuts in appearance.--Except,
Edith, that they have no 'cunning little tails.'--In the month of May
there is not a more beautiful tree to be found than the horse-chestnut,
with its large, deeply-cut leaves of a bright-green color and its long,
tapering spikes of variegated flowers, which turn upward from the dense
foliage. The tree at this time has been compared to a huge chandelier,
and the erect blossoms to so many wax lights. The bitter nuts ripen
early in the autumn and fall from the tree, but long before this the
beautiful foliage has turned rusty in our Northern States, and is no
longer ornamental. The overshadowing branches, which give such a
pleasant shade in summer, early in autumn begin to show the ravages of
the insects or the natural decay of the leaves."

"Then," said Malcolm, "it isn't a nice tree to have, and I'm glad that
there are elms here instead."

"I should like to have some of all the trees," replied Clara, "because
then we could study about them better.--Wouldn't you, Miss Harson?"

"I think so," said her governess, "if they were not undesirable to have,
as some trees are. If it were always May, I should want horse-chestnut
trees; for I think there is scarcely anything so pretty as those fresh
leaves and blossoms. The branches, too, begin low down, and that gives
the tree a generous spreading look which is very attractive in the way
of shade. In more southern States they have a longer season of beauty
than those in the North."

"Do people ever eat the horse-chestnut?" asked Edith.

"Not often, dear--it is too bitter; but an old writer who lived in the
days when it was first seen in England says that he planted it in his
orchard as a fruit tree, between his mulberry and his walnut, and that
he roasted the chestnuts and ate them. It is like the bitternut-hickory,
which even boys will not eat."

"I should think that somebody or something ought to eat it," said Clara,
thoughtfully; "it seems like such a waste."

Everyone laughed at her wise air, and she was asked if she intended to
set the example. She was not quite ready, though, to do that; and Miss
Harson continued:

"A naturalist once took from the tree a tiny flower-bud and proceeded to
dissect it. After the external covering, which consisted of seventeen
scales, he came upon the down which protects the flower. On removing
this he co