NEW WISCONSIN SEEDLINGS. 419 
apple and has been pronounced by Mr. Dartt as one of the most promising 
in his list, and he has a good lot to pick from. My friend, G. J. Kellogg, 
on examining it at Mr. Dartt’s, became interested in it and secured some 
cions. On his way home he visited me and was liberal enough to divide, 
so that I have two trees top-worked of it, which grew so nice last season 
than on my visit to Mr. Dartt in December, 1899, I secured some more cions 
of which I made root-grafts. It certainly is a fine tree, and I am anxious 
to know more of it. I talked with Mr. Phoenix last fall about it, but he 
could give me nothing definite about its history. At present I know of no 
young trees of it for sale and know of no restrictions on it. This is the 
history of the new winter apples to date. 
MY EXPERIENCE IN GROWING ORNAMENTAL SHRUBS. 
H. D. WALRATH, WATERTOWN, S. D. 
(Read before S. D. State Horticultural Society, Jan. 17, 1900.) 
My experience with ornamental shrubs and trees dates back to 1880. 
Coming to Dakota that year for the purpose of hewing out a new home, 
and having lived the greater part of my life in New York state on a farm 
where we farmer boys, instead of having to bother our heads with the grow- 
ing of shrubs and trees, were compelled to bring into action all our muscle 
and energy, not to nurture, but to destroy that which God had planted to 
beautify mother earth. 
When I landed on the western prairies, can it be wondered at that I 
felt lost when looking upon this broad expanse of fertile land with scarcely 
a tree, shrub or bush to relieve the eye? I then began to repent for all the 
destruction I had caused in former years, and realizing that no home could 
be complete without the very thing I had been taught to kill I immediately 
commenced to plant and am still in the planting business. Had I known 
what to plant, how and when to plant then as well as I do now, I would 
today have a much prettier home; in fact I was what might properly be 
termed a “green-horn” and had to be guided by the advice of the agents of 
eastern and southern nurseries, who dazzled my eyes and puzzled my brain 
with their highly colored plates of everything that was beautiful—trees laden 
with luscious fruit, shrubs covered with pretty fragrant flowers, just the 
thing I wanted, and all perfectly hardy (so they said). 
Being anxious for all these, I was only waiting the opportunity for the 
fellow to come along who knew just what I must have, and my first order 
ran about as follows: althaea, almond, barberry, red dogwood, tamarix, 
tree paeony, etc., and in order to keep in mind past recollections, I added 
to these the old fashioned purple lilac, snowball and honeysuckle, which I 
thought I could find room for somewhere in the background. 
The order, of course, was filled with neatness and dispatch, planted with 
unusual care, watered, cultivated and watched with great interest, only to 
see the most of them “pass away” without a struggle. It was then I began 
to appreciate the old friends, as the old fashioned ones which were ordered 
to fill the back ground survived and have gradually taken the place of the 
new “high toned ones” and are there to stay in all their splendor and loveli- 
ness. I have now growing and in perfect health, the purple, white and 
Persian lilac, snowball, upright honeysuckle, spirea Van Houttii, Siberian 
pea, Missouri flowering currant, Juneberry, Russian olive, Japan rose and 
