e entire year and are generally
cone-bearing and resinous trees. 'These change their leaves annually,
but, the young leaves appearing before the old ones decay, the tree is
always green.'"

"Miss Harson," said Clara, "when people talk about _weeping_ willows,
what do they mean? Do the trees really cry? I sometimes read about 'em
in stories, and I never knew what they did."

"They cry dreadfully," said Malcolm, "when it rains."

"But only as you do when you are out in it," replied his governess--"by
having the water drip from your clothes.--No, Clara, the tree is called
'weeping' because it seems to 'assume the attitude of a person in tears,
who bends over and appears to droop.' The sprays of this tree are
particularly beautiful, and 'willowy' is often used for 'graceful,' as
meaning the same thing. Its language is 'sorrow,' and it is often seen
in burial-grounds and in mourning-pictures. 'We remember it in sacred
history, associating it with the rivers of Babylon, and with the tears
of the children of Israel, who sat down under the shade of this tree and
hung their harps upon its branches. It is distinguished by the graceful
beauty of its outlines, its light-green, delicate foliage, its sorrowing
attitude and its flowing drapery.'"

"Were those weeping willows that we saw to-day?" asked Clara.

"No," replied her brother, quickly; "they just stuck up straight and
didn't weep a bit."

"They are called _water_ willows," said Miss Harson, "because they are
never found in dry places. They are more common than the weeping willow.
The water willow has the same delicate foliage and the same habit, under
an April sky, of gleaming with a drapery of golden verdure among the
still-naked trees of the forest or orchard. 'When Spring has closed her
delicate flowers,' says a bright writer, 'and the multitudes that crowd
around the footsteps of May have yielded their places to the brighter
host of June, the willow scatters the golden aments that adorned it,
and appears in the deeper garniture of its own green foliage.' A group
of these golden willows, seen in a rainstorm, will have so bright an
appearance as to make it seem as if the sun were actually shining."

[Illustration: THE WHITE WILLOW (_Salix alba_).]

"I wish we had them all around here, then," said Edith; "I like to see
the sun shining when it rains."

"But the sun is _not_ shining, dear," replied her governess: "it is only
the reflection from the willows that makes