134 ASTNUAL REPORT 



handsomest border of ferns I ever saw was in Lebanon, Ohio, in 

 the yard of an old schoolmate and dear friend — Mrs. Edward 

 Weakley. They were planted just inside a tasteful iron fence, and 

 shaded by a row of large trees on the outer edge of the sidewalk, 

 and never had the afternoon sun. The plumy fronds (of many 

 kinds and shades of green) were higher than the fence, gracefully 

 curling in and through its openings. It was a hot afternoon — 

 they gave such an impression of delicious coolness and shade, lush 

 abandon of growth — the impression will always remain. No bor- 

 der of flowering plants, however gay, could have excelled their 

 dainty beauty. 



Wish I had known sooner the Catalpa was hardy here. Twice 

 in Ohio have grown them from seed, which germinate easil} and 

 the plants are of rapid gro^yth. Mine were planted in a garden 

 border without any particular care, growing from two to four feet 

 the first year. Some were transplanted the second, others the 

 third year. In a few years they made large trees bearing immense 

 clusters of crape-like flowers, white with brown markings. There 

 are two varieties of Catalpa, one having long, slender seed-pods, 

 and smaller clusters of flowers, and slow growth. 



The variety I planted has long, large seed-pods like the old Miss 

 Creeper. I brought seed with me, but did not plant it; being told 

 it would not live here no more than the alanthus; some trees of 

 which we planted; the roots of which actually survived one winter, 

 sprouting out in the spring. Am much interested in the accounts 

 of the Russian mulberry. Could not some seed be procured for 

 distribution by the society? Or where can it be obtained? Several 

 times we have grown the wild, black mulberry from seed; the little 

 trees begin to bear th<^ third year; it is a delicious fruit. 



Many persons will not take the trouble to grow trees from seed, 

 because they may not live to eat the fruit or reap any benefit. How 

 selfish. My dear mother was very fond of having a fine garden, 

 and planting tree seeds; never ate a good peach or plum without 

 throwing the pit where it would come up. We always had a bor- 

 der in the garden full of nice, thrifty peach trees to transplant, 

 having ever}'' year bushels of this luscious fruit. Some one sent 

 her three or four large Orange Quinces; she admired them very 

 much, saying, "I must plant the seeds of this big one." She was 

 then over seventy years. "Why, mother, you will never see any 

 quinces on trees from that seed." ''What of that," she quietly re- 

 plied, "you or some one else may.'" So one day that fall I made 

 the trench for her in the garden, and she dropped in the seeds. 



