STREET PLANTING 85 



in streets, and, if not pruned too recklessly, the tree gives more or less 

 blossom. I offer a few substitutes for the common horse-chestnut 

 farther on. 



Of the third popular subject the lime it is difficult to say anything 

 in favour except its good nature under adverse circumstances. But it is 

 very apt to decay in the trunk where branches have been removed, and 

 its leaves are about the earliest to fall of those of all hardy trees. Often 

 towards the end of July, if the summer be dry, they commence to turn 

 rusty on the tree and soon after to litter the pavement. The English 

 summer is not long enough for it to be good that suggestions of autumn 

 should be thrust on one so soon. A still worse defect of the lime is its 

 liability to be infested with aphides. In my own district I have seen the 

 pavements black with their excrement, not to speak of the covering of 

 filth on garden walls and shrubberies near. 



There is perhaps no more unthankful task than the pruning of such 

 trees as these in town streets. The pruner is the butt of every retired 

 citizen who, taking his walks abroad, sees what he considers the wanton 

 mutilation of ratepayers' property going on. He usually relieves his 

 feelings by writing to the local paper. Yet, with a considerable experi- 

 ence of tree pruning, I am not able to see how the present system is to 

 be improved upon, so long as two rows of naturally big trees are crowded 

 in one narrow street. It is all very well to cry out about " mutilation " 

 and "barbarous treatment," and so on and certainly the winter aspect 

 of many street trees as left by the pruner is suggestive of nightmare 

 but the real problem involved is the restriction of a tree year after 

 year to dimensions a mere fraction of what it should naturally attain, and 

 yet preserve its natural beauty. And of that problem I have never yet 

 seen offered a satisfactory solution. Some people put off the evil day 

 until the trees overgrow and overshade their area, then the inevitable 

 lopping has results more hideous than ever. 



Therefore, the first great principle in street planting is the selection of 

 suitable trees. If one takes the average provincial city or town, the 

 conditions are not generally bad. I am not referring to the centre of 

 such cities as London, Glasgow, Manchester, or Liverpool, or to the 

 swarm of large towns in Lancashire, Yorkshire, etc., whose belching 

 chimneys blacken the earth and everything upon it. In such places 

 street planting presents special problems, and the choice of tree is very 

 much narrowed. But after all the air of most towns in the British Isles 

 is pure enough to involve little disadvantage to deciduous vegetation, and 

 in limiting themselves to their present restricted choice, I believe that 

 local authorities have denied themselves a very important method of 

 beautifying their towns and brightening the lives of those who live 

 in them. 



