Shade Trees. 



Vol. VI. 



For the Fanners' Cabinet. 

 Shade Trees. 



Qxiotation from June J\'"o., Farmers' Cabinet. — "The 

 beaiilit'ul shade trees before your dwellings, which 

 sliield you I'roni the heat of summer, and slied an air 

 of frazrance and beauty around the spot on whiciithey 

 Ktand. and voiir fruit trees from which you have so often 

 regaled yourselves, wkre i-i.anted dy other hands." 



Sir, — I controvert that point. I do so, be- 

 cause it is wrons; ii» principle and fact. "The 

 religion of the ancient Persians required its 

 Ibllowers to plant useful trees." I would 

 that we had such a religion here, and as I 

 hope to live to see the proposed National 

 American Society of Agriculture flourish, I 

 hope to live to see that one of its tenets, and 

 morally obligatory upon all the members. 

 The only religious obligation now which 

 will prompt the mass of the people to orna- 

 ment their grounds with trees, is srlf-intcrest. 

 How many can you find, willing to plant them 

 for posterity ! I am constrained to think that 

 facts indicate but a small proportion. How 

 many would plant them, if they could be per- 

 6uade<l that they would live to love and enjoy 

 the cooling and refreshing pleasure of the 

 tree that would grow from the seed planted 

 by their own hands 1 — Thousands. 



But the false sentiment of the above quoted 

 sentence deters them. Correct, then, that 

 false impression. Assert, what is a fact, that 

 if every couple when they unite themselves 

 in that holy, happy tie that holds the human 

 family togetlier, would plant the seed of some 

 useful or ornamental tree before their door, 

 tiiey might live to sit under its shade, and sing. 



When this old tree was new, 

 And our fond hearts were young, 



The tender plant we till'd 



And morn's gay carol sung, &c. 



What a happifying train of reflections 

 would arise! — "This' tree," says the father 

 to ills children, " was not planted by other 

 hands. — It is my own work. — It is a living 

 monument of the blessed union of your pa- 

 rents." 



Mr. Editor, to prove that shade trees may 

 be planted and enjoyed by ourselves, let me 

 take you a short ride in the burning sun of 

 this day, across one of the western prairies. 

 The road is familiar to me — I will make it 

 80 to you. 



All, here we are, just emerging from the 

 west side of a grove — seven miles to the next 

 shade. " Oh, how the sun glares down upon 

 us!" "Delightful, beautiful, rich prospect; 

 but how bare of shade !" " How the cattle 

 must suflfjr, such a day as this !" " Ah, here 

 is a cabin well out on the prairie ! but, deso- 

 lation ! not a single green leaf floatintr in 

 tliis gentle breezeV' " Why don't the man 

 plant a few shade trees? they would be use- 

 ful to his children." Yes; but it is that very 

 sentiment of yours that prevents him. The 



idea that he may not live himself to enjoy the 

 shade, deters him. If the settlers upon the 

 western prairies could only be convinced of 

 the advantage to themselves, they would not 

 neglect this duty. And so we career along 

 over this shadeless wild. 



Ah ! now we approach " the settlement" 

 again. Here is another cabin — bare of shade 

 trees, too. " But," as you observe, " every- 

 thing here looks so new !" Yes ; the first set- 

 tlement was made here only six years ago. 

 " Oh, no — that ain't possible ! Here must be 

 one older — why it appears, after such a 

 scorching ride, a very paradise ! A neat, 

 clean log cabin, fairly embowered in an cly- 

 sium of shade, — locust, mulberry, honey- 

 suckle, grape vine, pear, apple, peach, cur- 

 rant ! I must stop, and have a gambol with 

 those lively children, sporting upon that car- 

 pet of white clover. Six years, do you say 1 

 Was this a naked spot of wild prairie, six 

 years ago!" 



Yea, less than that — and within that time 

 every bush and turf here has been grown 

 from the seed. 



" Well, well, this is a lesson. — I will never 

 recommend my readers again to ' plant for 

 posterity,' but /or themselves. I will venture 

 the assertion that here lives a man not only 

 of taste, with a benevolent heart, but one 

 who " 



Has acquired this taste from reading Agri- 

 cultural Papers — let me add, to finish your 

 sentence. 



" Yes, yes, and let me add, from writing 

 for them too. — 'Tis all explained now. That 

 wild and merry shout — Oh, how it thrills 

 through my heart ! — ' Father 's come — Fa- 

 ther 's come!' — that tells the whole story: 

 and I shall then cool myself under that de- 

 lightful shade, planted with your own hands. 

 Oh, how delightful! — No, no, my boy — no 

 chair — nothing so pleasant after such a burn- 

 ing ride, as a roll upon the clean sweet grass. 

 And such water! — Children all pictures of 

 health. No wonder you are a contented, 

 happy man, and fond of your home. Give 

 me your hand ! Indeed I do not envy you ; 

 but 1 wish every soul who sees this would 

 plant some shade frees around his house." 



Mr. Editor, — I am not very familiar with 

 your readers, and this may appear a little 

 egotistical ; but it is a way I have of illus- 

 trating. You know me belter yourself — that 

 is, at a distance — and by and by you will 

 know me personally, for 1 am coming to have 

 a chat with you under your shade tree. 



This is a hot day and a cool subject ; but 

 I hope it never will cool the ardour that you 

 and I feel to promote agricultural improve- 

 ment. I am your stranger friend, 



Solon Robinson. 



Lake C. H., la., Juno 29, 1841. 



