CiiAP. X.] TREES FOR CITIES. 157 



front of a suburban house or villa, or in any position where a 

 pleasant object is required to refresh the eye at all times. 



At first sight there seems little reason why the somewhat 

 despised and roughly-treated Acacia, should come in after such 

 stately and noble trees as the Plane and the Chestnut ; but, taking 

 the varieties as well as the original tree into consideration, it is 

 worthy of this rank, being equally well adapted for the smallest 

 town-garden as for the largest public park. 



To many rows of suburban houses a thin line of trees is an 

 improvement, and forms the only species of garden-embellishment 

 of which they are capable. The qualities necessary in such trees 

 are hardiness, healthy constitution, and size and habits suited to 

 the positions for which they are destined. No tree combines these 

 better than the spineless round-headed variety of the Kobinia 

 (R. inermis). 



Perhaps the most beautiful and appropriate city-trees in Europe 

 are those formed by the round-headed Piobinias in some of the 

 cities of Northern Italy ; their grace, dense and grateful shade, 

 and deep verdure being perfect. I measured several nearly thirty 

 feet in diameter of head, and with a bole a foot or more through, 

 the heads being picturesque and somewhat irregular from age, 

 while preserving their compactness and valuable shading-pro- 

 perties. It would be impossible to find a greater improvement 

 upon the hideous lines of clipped Limes so common in France 

 than is presented by these trees at Novara. But as we have no 

 proof that as good a result could be obtained in our English 

 streets, we must turn to those trees that we have already tested 

 thoroughly. 



The bad and not the good qualities of the Lime place it so high 

 in the list; for, while planted more abundantly than any other 

 city-tree, it is by far the worst, and the extensive use of it in our 

 streets is a great mistake. The tall lines of Lime-trees in the 

 Garden of Plants at Paris fall into the sere and yellow leaf before 

 one has time to admire their soft green. In London, at the 

 end of July, the Limes are often the most miserable-looking trees 

 anywhere to be seen. And all this in the midst of the summer. 

 The withered, burnt, insect-covered leaves rustle lifeless upon the 

 trees, hoarsely whispering the coming death of the year in our 

 ears bof(U-o we have half enjoyed the suninier. 



