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 doesn't seem to be much but trees in this town,—all I can see is trees and church-steeples."

"It does look like woods, from here, doesn't it?" I said. "I never noticed that before. There's such a lot of hard maples, that you can't see much else."

"That isn't a hard maple in front of your house."

"No. That's a Tree of Heaven."

"A what?"

"Tree of Heaven. That's what they call it."

He shook his head and looked thoughtfully at his hands. "I broke off some leaves to examine them," he said.

I giggled.

"—And you can never make me believe there's any tree like that in Heaven."

"Why didn't you smell of the leaves before you broke them off?" I asked.

"Didn't know it was the proper thing to do. I'll guarantee that no one ever does both. Really, what is it?"

"Everybody calls it 'Tree of Heaven'; but I've heard some one say its other name is 'lanthus'—or something like that."