5i8 



Garden and Forest. 



[October 22, 1890. 



flowers, which are borne near the outer ends of the canes, com- 

 mences to ripen' early in September and continues to mature 

 until checked by hard frosts. A sufficient number of the flower- 

 buds fail to open in the fall to make a fair second crop the 

 following- summer. By cutting off the new growth late in 

 autumn or early in the spring the summer crop may be pre- 

 vented, and a much larger autumn crop is the result. I am 

 now growing a variety called the Erie. At this date (October 

 9th) it is well laden with fine fruit, and in New York I have 

 gathered ripe fruit from this variety as late as October 25th. 

 Despite the cool weather of the past few weeks the berries 

 have matured rapidly, and are fully equal in flavor to those 

 that ripened on the same bushes in July. The mature fruit 

 remains on the plant much longer in autumn than in summer, 

 and it is not injured by moderate frosts. 



It has occurred to me that the autumn Raspberries might 

 have an especial value in northern localities, where the Grape 

 cannot be grown and only the Crab-apple among tree fruits 

 succeeds. By cutting off the stems in autumn the roots could 

 easily be protected during winter, while the flowers coming 

 out at midsummer would not be endangered by frost. 



University of Wisconsin, Madison. I. o. (jOff. 



Correspondence. 



The American Elm. 

 To the Editor of Garden and Forest : 



Sir. — The illustration of the Feathered American Elm in 

 Garden and Forest (p. 467) has an especial interest for 

 me, as it calls to mind several handsome specimens of the 

 same class growing on my father's homestead in southern New 

 York. The tall, columnar trunks of these primeval Elms often 

 rise to the height of fifty feet before dividing into branches, 

 yet from the ground they are clothed with numerous tufts of 

 slender, and often drooping, shoots, which, in summer, give 

 to these noble trees a very unique appearance. These tufts 

 often arise from roundish, knotty protuberances of greater or 

 less size, which give the trunk a rugged and picturesque aspect. 



On the same farm, until within a few years, stood another 

 venerable American Elm, which, in habit, was the exact op- 

 posite of the ones above described. In place of a lofty, tower- 

 ing trunk, with strongly ascending branches at the summit, this 

 motherly old tree divided, at the height of a man's head, into 

 several massive branches, which extended horizontally a 

 distance of thirty feet or more, and finally broke up into slen- 

 der, drooping spray that literally reached the ground. 



I have often queried if these strikingly different habits might 

 not be perpetuated by grafting. I had formerly supposed that 

 the peculiar forms assumed by these trees were due largely to 

 the influence of other trees that grew up with them and have 

 long since been cut away, but observation of the habits of 

 isolated trees that have largely grown up within my recollec- 

 tion do not require any such explanation. Surely no other 

 native forest-tree has a greater tendency to variation in form 

 than the American Elm. 



When left to itself, the American Elm often shows a 

 tendency to develop only two, three or four principal 

 branches, which grow out to a great length and often curve 

 downward more or less at their extremities. When grown as 

 a lawn or road-side tree, this habit is objectionable because it 

 tends to make the head unsymmetrical and poorly furnished 

 with foliage, while the long and slender branches are likely to 

 be broken off by winds. 



To prevent this undesirable form it is necessary to watch 

 the growth of the young trees and severely head in the shoots 

 that show a tendency to outstrip their companions. This will 

 secure the formation of a number of principal brandies, which 

 not only increase the symmetry of the head and clothe it with 

 dense masses of verdure, but enable it to endure high winds 

 without injury. 



University of Wisconsin, Madison. ■£•• '-'• ^OJf. 



Three Questions. 



To the Editor of Garden and Forest: 



Sir. — I have made several attempts to transplant Comus 

 florida, but I have been unable to get my plants well through 

 the first autumn, and after several attempts I have not one 

 well established specimen. Are they difficult to transplant ? 



Will you kindly give me a complete list of evergreen trees 

 and shrubs, not conifers, which will endure the winters of this 

 region ? Will any of the Magnolias, Andromedas or Rhodo- 

 dendrons endure a temperature which occasionally falls to 

 thirty degrees below zero with bright sunshine following ? 



What perennial flowering plants are better planted in the 

 fall in this latitude, forty-three north ? Is this the best time to 

 plant Paeonies ? 

 Whitewater, wis. Albert Salisbury. 



[There is no particular difficulty in transplanting Comus 

 florida. As is the case with other trees, nursery-grown 

 plants which have been frequently transplanted, and are 

 therefore furnished with plenty of short fibrous rootlets, 

 are more easily established than plants dug from the woods, 

 which cannot be moved except at the sacrifice of a large 

 part of their roots. For this reason it is always better, 

 when practicable, to obtain plants from a good nursery, 

 even although they are considerably more expensive, than 

 it is to undertake to remove them from the woods. 



There is probably no broad-leaved evergreen-tree capa- 

 ble of supporting the climate of Wisconsin and very few 

 evergreen shrubs, whose cultivation there must be largely 

 a matter of experiment. Rhododendron maximum grows 

 naturally in a region where the thermometer sometimes 

 falls to thirty degrees below zero, but, like the other plants 

 of its family, it cannot be grown in soil impregnated with 

 lime. The Inkberry, Ilex glabra, is an evergreen species 

 which grows on the Atlantic coast as far north as Massa- 

 chusetts, and it might be expected to endure the climate of 

 Wisconsin. Euonymus radicans, a. climbing evergreen spe- 

 cies from Japan, is perfectly hardy in New England, and 

 it should be tried, if it has not been already, in the north- 

 western states. Probably none of the evergreen Andro- 

 medas would grow in Wisconsin, where, however, Mag- 

 nolia glauca, which grows as far north on the Atlantic 

 coast as the Inkberry, might be expected to succeed. 



Nearly all strong-growing perennial plants can be divided 

 and replanted in the autumn, but it should be done early 

 enough to enable them to make new roots and become 

 established before the ground freezes up. Probably the 

 best time to transplant Paeonies at the north is early in 

 September, as they start to grow so early, especially 

 those having woody stems, that it is almost impossible 

 to transplant them in the spring before growth com- 

 mences. — Ed.] 



Recent Publications. 



Two Years in the French West Indies, by Lafcadio Hearn 

 (Harper & Brothers, New York, 1890), contains a number of 

 sketches of Martinique and of its interesting population, which 

 bring before our eyes " Le Pays des Revenants " more ac- 

 curately and pleasantly than anything which has yet been 

 printed about the most picturesque of the Lesser Antilles. 



A tropical forest is indescribable, perhaps, but one may get 

 at least a vivid impression of it from the following sentences 

 which Mr. Hearn has translated from the writings of Dr. Rufz, 

 a Creole of Martinique, and which, as we read them, bring 

 back to us the days we passed long ago in these forests, and 

 all the strange and awful beauty which surrounded us : 



"The sea, the sea alone, because it is the most colossal of 

 earthly spectacles — only the sea can afford us any term of 

 comparison for the attempt to describe a grand-bois — but even 

 then one must imagine the sea on a day of storm suddenly 

 immobilized in the expression of its mightiest fury. For the 

 summits of these vast woods repeat all the inequalities of the 

 land they cover ; and these inequalities are mountains from 

 4,200 to 4,800 feet in height and valleys of corresponding pro- 

 fundity. All this is hidden, blended together, smoothed over 

 by verdure, in soft and enormous undulations — in immense 

 billowings of foliage. Only, instead of a blue line at the hori- 

 zon, you have a green line ; instead of flashings of blue, you 

 have flashings of green — and in all the tints, in all the com- 

 binations of which green is capable : deep green, light green, 

 yellow green, black green. 



" When your eyes grow weary — -if it indeed be possible for 

 them to Aveary — of contemplating the exterior of these tre- 

 mendous woods, try to penetrate a little into their interior. 

 What an inextricable chaos it is ! The sands of a sea are not 

 more closely pressed together than the trees are here : some 

 straight, some curved, some upright, some toppling — fallen, or 

 leaning against one another, or heaped high upon each other. 

 Climbing lianas, which cross from one tree to the other, like 

 ropes passing from mast to mast, help to fill up all the gaps in 

 this treillage ; and parasites — not timid parasites like Ivy or like 



