The little girls were delighted, and Malcolm finally condescended to be pleased with the idea.

“This is a very young birch,” continued their governess, “and you see how slender and graceful it is; also that the bark, or ‘skin,’ is very dark.  For this reason it is called the black, or cherry, birch, and also because the tree is very much like the black cherry.  It is also called sweet birch and mahogany birch; the sweet part you can probably understand, and it gets its other name from the color of the wood, which often resembles mahogany and at one time was much used for furniture.  There are larger trees of the same kind all around us, and I should like to know if anything else has been noticed besides the twigs of this little one.”

“I see something,” replied Malcolm:  “there are flowers—­purple and yellow.”

“And what is the particular name for these tree-blossoms?” asked Miss Harson.

“Isn’t it catkins?” inquired Clara, timidly.

“Yes, catkins, or aments.  They hang, as you see, like long tassels of purple and gold, and are as fragrant as the bark.  Bryant’s line,

     “‘The fragrant birch above him hung her tassels in the sky,’

“was written of this same black birch.  Some of these trees are sixty or seventy feet high, and all are very graceful, this species being considered the most beautiful of the numerous birch family.  The leaves, which are just coming out, are two or three inches long and about half as wide; they taper to a point and have serrate, or sawlike, edges.  The wood is firm and durable, and is much used for cattle-yokes as well as for bedsteads and chairs.  The large trees yield a great quantity of sweetish sap, which makes a pleasant drink.  The trees are tapped just as the sugar-maples are, and in some parts of the country gathering this sap, which is sometimes used to make vinegar, is quite an important event.”

“Oh! oh! oh!” screamed Edith, and began to run.

“Oh! oh! oh!” echoed Clara; and Malcolm declared that she was just like “Jill,” who “came tumbling after.”

“What is the matter, children?” asked their governess, in dismay; but she stood perfectly still.

“Only a poor little garter-snake,” said Malcolm, “putting his head out to see if it’s warm enough for him yet.  But he has gone back into his hole frightened to death at such dreadful noises.  Hello! what’s the matter with Edie now?”

The little sister had fallen, tripped up by some rough roots, and, expecting the poor startled garter-snake to come and make a meal off her, she was calling loudly for help.

Miss Harson had her in her arms in a moment, and it was soon found that one foot had quite a bad bruise.

“If only you had not run away!” said her governess.  “He was such an innocent little snake to make all this fuss about, and very pretty too, if you had stopped to look at him.”