6o 



its pendulous white clusters and rich, sweet 

 breath, is fit for treasons, stratagems, and 

 spoils of the deepest dye. Few, even of its 

 lovers, though, know what a hold it has on 

 life. Stick down a twig, a bit of root, any- 

 where, and behold, you have a tree, no 

 matter what the environment. A Virginia 

 planter once enclosed his calf lot with lo- 

 cust posts mortised through and through, 

 and locust poles fitted into the openings. 

 By summer posts and rails were growing at 

 a lively rate, and had made a hedge where 

 only a fence was wanted. Another, whose 

 door-yard was set with locusts, dug a well 

 sixty feet deep, and got a bit of locust root 

 out in the last spadeful of earth. Upon still 

 another plantation, roots of the locust plant- 

 ed by the pioneer owner two hundred years 

 ago come up regularly each spring, in spite 

 of a century of persistent grubbing. 



Park and street planting have quite vul- 

 garized the buckeye. It keeps no bit of 

 true sylvan flavor, but grows by time and 

 rule, and blossoms to order. The magnolia, 

 too, is commonplace away from its native 

 woodland. The tulip-tree defies ornamental 

 planting. It will grow strong and stately 

 in the bottom, or cling stoutly to life upon 

 the bare hill-sides, but does not take kindly 



