The Hemlocks 



first three species have leaves 2-ranked and flat and cones under 

 an inch in length; the fourth has leaves 3-angled, whorled on the 

 twigs, and cones 2 to 3 inches long. Cones are pendant, and thin 

 scaled in all the species, and are borne annually. 



Hemlocks are important ornamental trees. They come 

 readily from seed, if shaded, and transplant safely, owing to 

 their dense fibrous root system. They submit to severe pruning 

 of roots or tops. They are not particular in regard to soil, if only 

 it be moist. The two Japanese species are propagated from cut- 

 tings, or are grafted on our Eastern hemlock. All hemlocks have 

 bark rich in tannin. The west American species are all large 

 trees, except at high altitudes. 



Hemlock {Tsuga Canadensis, Carr.) — A broadly pyramidal 

 tree, 60 to 100 feet high, with tapering leading shoot and pen- 

 dulous horizontal limbs. Bark cinnamon red to grey, thin, fur- 

 rowed, scaly, ^ood light, soft, coarse, cross-grained, not durable. 

 Buds small, obtuse. Leaves flat, blunt, pale beneath, dark, 

 shining above, on short petioles jointed to projecting bases, 

 2-ranked, shed in third year. Flowers in May, monoecious, soli- 

 tary; pistillate terminal on short shoots. Fruit small, annual 

 cones, falling in spring, oval, thin scaled, red-brown, turning to 

 grey. Preferred habitat, rocky uplands near streams. Dis- 

 irihuiion. Nova Scotia to southern Michigan, central Wisconsin 

 and Minnesota; southward to Delaware, and along Appalachian 

 Mountains to Alabama. ';jL/5^5^ Wood, in building and for rail- 

 road ties; bark, in dyeing and in tanning leather. Cultivated as 

 an ornamental tree and hedge plant. 



" Hemlock Hill" in the Arnold Arboretum is a shrine at which 

 the true tree-loving Bostonian worships at least once a year. It is 

 a remnant of the forest primeval that clothes a steep promontory 

 just inside one of the gates. In winter the hemlocks look black 

 in contrast with the snow that hides the paths and smothers the 

 brook into silence. It is awesome — this solitude of winter on the 

 hill. But in summer all is different. The severity of its winter 

 aspect is gone. Every twig waves in welcome a yellow-green 

 plume, the new growth of the year, and up the hillside climb the 

 well-remembered paths. The brook goes singing along between 

 borders of laurel and rhododendron. The gloom of the hemlocks 

 is wonderfully lightened, when one is actually under them, by 

 the pale linings of the individual leaves. Just two parallel lines 



73 



