64 



HOW TO MANAGE FRUIT TREES. 



be planted in yards which are thoroughly 

 investigated by them. There are doubtless 

 cases where, from incomplete arrange- 

 ments, this mode may have failed, as, in- 

 deed, we have known paving to do; but 



in all instances, where thoroughly carried 

 out and persevered in, it will be found an 

 efficient and cheap mode. Meanwhile, 

 paving is nicely adapted to the amateur's 

 garden. Ed. 



HOW TO MANAGE FRUIT TREES. 

 BY A PENNSYLVANIA SUBSCRIBER. 



I have gained two pieces of information 

 from your journal, which I consider invalua- 

 ble ; and as I fear some of your readers 

 may not have been so much struck with 

 their importance as n^self, I shall venture 

 a few words to call attention. 



I allude to the absolute necessity, in this 

 climate, of shading the trunks of fruit trees; 

 and the no less important fact, that the 

 mulching the soil greatly promotes the 

 health, and vigor, and longevity of a tree. 



My eyes were first opened to the great 

 value of protect ing the trunks of trees, by 

 allowing the trees to form low heads, as 

 close to the ground as possible, by reading 

 the masterly article on " Vitality and Lon- 

 gevity of Trees," by Professor Turner, at 

 page 130 of the last volume of your jour- 

 nal. That able correspondent proves, con- 

 clusively, to my mind, (and I have by many 

 observations since very fully verified his 

 theory,) that just in proportion to the heat 

 of the climate the trunk of a tree needs 

 shelter ; that in a state of nature, all trees 

 which grow alone, and not in woods, where 

 they are sheltered by others, put out 

 branches near the surface, so as to hide 

 and shelter the trunk ; and finally, that all 

 fruit trees would do the same if left to 

 themselves, and not continually mutilated 

 and robbed of their fairest proportions by 

 the saw and knife of the " trimmer." 



What, indeed, can be more rational. A 



few days since, we had four successive days 

 when the mercury in Fahrenheit's thermo- 

 meter stood above 90 degrees all day long 

 in the shade. I took the trouble to hang 

 the glass at midday against the trunk of 

 a peach tree in the full sunshine, when, to 

 my surprise it rose to 130 degrees. Now 

 it is next to impossible that the sap-vessels 

 should not become almost baked; and it is 

 not a matter of the slightest surprise to me, 

 that we find the trunk and principal branch- 

 es oozing out gum, and the tree looking 

 feeble and sickly. 



Nature has fitted the upper surface of 

 leaves to bear the most powerful sunshine; 

 and the constant perspiration through this 

 upper surface of the foliage keeps them 

 comparatively cool. But it is not so with 

 the bark ; and if the stem of a delicate tree 

 is exposed to those intense rays of the sun, 

 feebleness or disease must inevitably fol- 

 low. 



I have had a striking proof of this truth 

 before my eyes the past month. Bordering 

 my garden walk are two rows of fruit 

 trees, — each row containing six apricots 

 and twelve peaches. They were both 

 planted five years ago. One of these rows 

 has been headed back, so as to keep the 

 trees quite bushy and low, — the lower 

 branches starting out within a few inches 

 of the ground. (This was done to test 

 more completely the value of the shorten- 



