1414 



AMERICAN FORESTRY 



agt- of sapwood, bat such is not the case. On the other 

 hand, sapwood simplifies the drying problem because of 

 the fact that it dries; more easily and better than heart- 

 wood. Likewise, the sapwood of most species, excepting 

 that of hemlock, white spruce, and certain fir, takes pre- 

 servative treatment better than heartwood, although it 

 is not probable that this greater penetration will give 

 greater durability than well-treated heartwood. While 

 in the case of most hardwoods, second-growth young 

 timber is superior in strength quality to older or mature 

 timber, this is not true for all conifers. In fact, the 

 reverse is more nearly the rule, but the differences are 

 not too great or serious to be met satisfactorily by devel- 

 oping methods and standards of laminated construction 

 in accordance with which the required strength for spe- 

 cific purposes will be obtained. 



From the broad standpoint of forest conservation, 

 built-up wood justifies thoughtful public and professional 

 consideration. The tremendous annual loss to the nation 

 of wood wasted under present methods of logging, milling 

 and manufacture, is like the weather; it is much talked 

 about but relatively little is done about it. For every foot 

 of wood utilized we have to admit that two feet are 

 wasted in woods, mill and factory. At the same time 

 lumbermen admit that ten years hence the remaining 

 large bodies of southern pine will be cut out. The coun- 

 try's main storehouse of timber will then be the west 

 coast, two to three thousand miles removed from the 

 principal consuming markets of the country. When that 

 comes to be the case, the East and Middle West will 

 begin to feel the full effect on the price of lumber gen- 

 erally of a transportation cost of from $10 to $20 per 

 thousand feet. Furthermore, public measures making 

 mandatory the more economical utilization of our forest 

 resources may be expected in a relatively few years. It 

 is, therefore, wise and forehanded to determine in the 

 meantime the directions along which a sane and 

 sound national utilization policy for the future may 

 be shaped. 



H 



"NAPOLEON WILLOW" DYING 



EAVY with memories of Napoleonic glory and 

 whispers of quiet St. Helena, the old tree which 

 came from the aisle of willows at the Emperor's grave 

 some forty years ago as a slender shoot to be trans- 

 planted to the Woodside estate of John Morris Phillips 

 is dying. Today it is in the care of the city of Newark, 

 part of the little park at Elwood Place which the Phillips 

 estate presented to the city in 1892, and tree surgeons are 

 busy on the tree, with cement for the gaping cavity at 

 the base of its trunk and all the remedies known to 

 science. But the willow, which has aged early, is world 

 weary, and its wide, drooping branches are symbolic of 

 a fast and steady decline. 



In the days when the old Phillips estate, which holds 

 a place in the city's history for 200 years, dominated the 

 Woodside section with its twenty green acres. John 

 .Morris Phillips, lover of beautiful trees and shrubs, took 

 delight in putting out new ones from his fine nursery. 

 Besides trees,, he had another enthusiasm — Napoleon 



Photograph by courtesy of the Nrwark Bvtning Nrms 



THE FAMOUS "NAPOLEON WILLOW" AT ELWOOD PLACE 

 The photograph shows the dying branches on the wonderful old tree. 



Bonaparte. Fine prints of the little Corsican, memoirs 

 and documents galore bearing upon his career, were 

 stored up at the Phillips' homestead in a collection that 

 never seemed to stop growing. But one day there came 

 an incident that combined the two loves of John Morris 

 Phillips — a friend of his who had gone on a trip around 

 the world had stopped off at St. Helena and there taken 

 a shoot from the clump of willows that surrounded the 

 great exile's original burial place. 



The young tree was duly set out on the broad lawn 

 facing Elwood Place, and from that time on it was the 

 favorite of old Mr. Phillips. Set in among the elms and 

 maples in what is now a city park, it is still the aristocrat 

 of the lawn. Thirty-five years ago Mr. Phillips died, 

 and the estate today is not of the size that it used to be. 

 Neither have the same understanding hands that cared 

 for the willow been there to care for it in the old way, 

 for the Napoleonic tradition died. 



City officials may worry about it — Carl Bannwart of 

 the Shade Tree Department has ordered that it be given 

 special care — attendants may potter around at the broad 

 base of its trunk, and the curious may speculate, but the 

 willow of St. Helena is dying. 



