How the boy loved this tree! It was beautiful in the spring, with its red buds; beautiful in summer, with its masses of dark-green foliage, and its refreshing shade; but most beautiful of all in the autumn, with its crimson tints, relieved by the lighter colors of the surrounding trees. Here he made his whistles; here he was quite sure in a hot day to find the pig stretched out in the shade, with his nose stuck in the moist, cool earth under a great root, and the cattle lying round chewing their cuds.