344 AKNUAL REPORT 



to find the trees standing on the north side of the pine trees 

 scattered through the orchard in much better condition than 

 those on the south side, but careful inspection shows no material 

 difference. And we conclude that it is a mistake to set isolated 

 trees as has been done in this orchard, and that continuous single 

 rows of evergreen trees — rows to be about four rods apart, and 

 run east and west, or, perhaps, a little to the northwest and 

 southeast, would be far better. For this inside protection I 

 think Norway spruce an excellent tree, as it would soon become 

 tall, and if set eight to ten feet apart in the row, would soon ef- 

 fectually shade a wide space. Cottonwood trees would hardly do, as 

 they would soon monopolize the whole ground and starve out 

 the fruit trees. 



It may not be amiss hereto ask a question or two, with a view 

 of eliciting discussion: What killed these Duchess apple trees? 

 Our friend Gaylord, of Iowa, will promptly answer sun-scald. 

 All right, so far, but what causes sun -scald"? Here is room for 

 theory. If we put our hand on a Duchess apple growing on the 

 south side of the tree and exposed to the hottest August sun, it 

 will feel cool. It is alive and the principles of life convey the 

 power to resist death, or those conditions that produce death. 

 If this apple falls to the ground and is exposed to the direct rays 

 of the sun for an hour or two, it is affected by sun-scald. It is 

 dead now, and death having deprived it of all resistant or pro- 

 tective power it falls an easy prey to sun-scald or other disease. 



This life principle which we call vitality, tenacity of life, or 

 hardiness when applied to trees, is strongest in plants and animals 

 in perfect health. And although certain diseases, such as blight 

 in trees, are most likely to attack individuals of robust habits, 

 yet the general rule holds good. Disease is but a modified de- 

 gree of death. We would hardly expect a consumptive to stand 

 the fatigue of a long march and if he fell by the way we might 

 say he died from sun-stroke. But we would feel confident that 

 it was the seeds of death previously planted in his system that 

 had rendered fatal attacks of disease so slight that they would 

 have been successfully resisted or warded off by a robust man. 

 So it is with our apple trees. In our severest winters some of 

 our trees are frozen so dry that they never burst a bud, but most of 

 them are so hardy that, though seriously injured, they start into 

 growth in the spring. Now, if in June we examine some of our 

 standard varieties that have just squeezed through, we will find a 

 thin white film growing over and covering the dead, blackened 



