PAVING TO PREVENT THE CURCULIO. 



31 



mere theorizing. I know of no more reliable 

 authority than him. Yours, truly, 



Lewis F. Allen. 



Black Rork, June 6, 1850. 



Dear Friend : The following statement will 

 phow she effect of paving under apricot and 

 plum trees, which was the subject of our last 

 conversation. 



In the spring of 1834 T set out several rows 

 of plum, peach, cherry, and apricot trees, 

 twenty feet apart, and the trees ten feet apart 

 in the row. My apricots are on plum stocks. 

 Up to 1846, I had not a single fair crop of 

 apricots from any of my trees. Some varie- 

 ties of plums bore — the egg plum did not have 

 but two fair crops in that time. At any rate, 

 I was discouraged in trying to raise apricots 

 and plums. 



On a lot on Main-street in this village, 

 where I resided from 1823 to 1835, I had an 

 apricot tree, near the garden fence, outside of 

 which was the side-walk of the street, and in- 

 side wais a brick walk leading to the rear of 

 the garden. This tree bore uniformly fine 

 crops to maturity, until it was destroyed about 

 four 3'ears ago. I was puzzled to account for 

 the fact, that my trees at my present residence 

 should not bear to maturity, with all my pains of 

 thumping and destroying the curculio, picking 

 up and feeding the fallen fruit to the hogs — 

 while the tree on my old place hung full. In 

 1846 I saw a statement that to pave under 

 apricots, plums, and nectarines, would prevent 

 the ravages of the curculio. This gave me a 

 clue at once to the wherefore of the bearing 

 of my apricot on my old place — and I resolv- 

 ed to at once pave under my trees. In the 

 spring of 1846 I spread leeched ashes under 

 my apricots and plums, and paved all my ap- 

 ricots and part of my plums. Those paved 

 bore abundant and fine crops to maturity, in 

 1846, '47, '48 and '49, while the egg plums, 

 which were not paved under till the spring of 



1849, for fourteen years had but two good 

 crops. In 1849 I paved under them, (the egg 

 plums,) and they bore a fine crop. They are 

 in one of the rows, and I know of no reason 

 why they should not bear, but because they 

 were not paved. They were bearing trees 

 when set in 1834, and have ever been thrifty 

 — the fruit uniformly falling off before maturi- 

 ty, excepting as stated. 



I have a fine nectarine which always hangs 

 full of green fruit, and it never yet produced 

 a ripe nectarine — this was set out in 1835 in 

 a row of peaches, and is not paved. I have 

 this spring spread a coat of leeched ashes un- 

 der it and paved it. It hangs very full, and 

 I have no doubt I shall have a fine crop of 

 ripe nectarines. 



I usually sweep up the fallen fruit and feed 

 to the hogs — about one-third of my apricots 

 are stung and drop, but more remain on the 

 tree than I usually allow to ripen. Every 

 year since I paved, ray apricots are loaded 

 with ripe fruit. I sprinkle salt freely on the 

 pavement to destroy the grass and weeds 

 which spring up between the edges of the flat 

 stones I used, and to fertilize the ground. 



Persons may theorize as much as they please 

 — but I have the fullest confidence, that pav- 

 ing must produce the same results every where. 

 I have neighbors who attempt to raise plums 

 and apricots without paving, and complain of 

 losing their fruit; and fruit falling from my trees 

 show, that the curculio exists here in great 

 abundance. It is not the absence of the in- 

 sect that saves my fruit, but in my opinion its 

 instinct, which leads it away from paved trees, 

 because the chance of reproduction is destroy- 

 ed and its labor of love lost. Its darling mag- 

 got cannot burrow in the ground under the 

 the paved trees. Be it instinct, or desire to 

 perpetuate the race, or what it may, I know 

 that since I paved, I have fine apricots and a 

 great abundance of them — at a season, too, 

 when such fruit is a great luxury. The sur- 



