May 8, 1889.] 



Garden and Forest. 



219 



gradually removing-, to the great inii^rovement of the general 

 scene ; for the deciduous forest trees which these ([uick-grow- 

 ing conifers hid from sight have now attained a handsome 

 stature and, leaning forward or hanging from the steep l)anks 

 behind the house and from the knolls, compose a harmonious 

 and striking scene, which the cone-shaped Spruces at present 

 confuse and obscure. A few of the native trees are uncom- 

 monly large ; for instance, an Oak and an Elm, which stand 

 alone in the grass-field east of the i)leasure-ground ; and, just 

 before the house, a f\ne swamp White Oak, which was, doubt- 

 less, an aboriginal inhabitant of the Chester Brook Valley — its 

 horizontal branches spread 100 feet. Here, too, is an English 

 Elm of uncommonly wide-spread habit, its many large limbs 

 supported by a trunk which measures fifteen and a quarter 

 feet in circumference. 



scenery of the estate — the gentle slopes of grass-land, in the 

 hollow of which lie the ponds, the wide stretches of moist 

 meadow, the occasional passages along the stream where 

 Elms or Willows overhang the water, the sheltering banks 

 and knolls clothed with dense woods or dotted, as in the re- 

 mote parts, with dark Junipers and outcrops of rock. The land- 

 scape is more appropriate to human use and occupation, and 

 at the saine time it is more beautiful than was the original 

 natural scene. The meadows are more meadow-like than they 

 were, the stream reflects more sky, the trees are nobler trees, 

 and they stand in ordered masses, not in uniformly dense 

 array. Here is abundant proof that if Nature is helped and 

 not forced she will make for us scenery which shall grow to 

 more and more loveliness and character as the years pass. 

 Boston. Charles Eliot. 



Sketch Plan of the Lyman Place. 



But the most remarkable tree upon the place — a Purple Beech 

 (see page 221) — stands in the garden behind the house. This 

 little level space is curiously irregular in ground-plan. It is 

 bounded on the north by a short range of glass-houses and by a 

 high brick wall, which curves in and out in order to avoid the 

 ledges of the rocky bank behind it. This old wall is trained all 

 over with Peach and Pear trees, an ancient hedge of Box accom- 

 panies it at some six feet from its base, and many forest trees 

 rise behind it. The garden-ground is all one slightly varied 

 level of soft grass, with a few trees of chosen kinds near the 

 edges, a few Rhododendrons and Roses, and one giant White 

 Pine, which seems to guard the open end of the ground wdiere 

 the simple Init picturesque enclosure expands into the still 

 simpler ground outside. With its soft shadows at all hours of 

 the day, its sheltered quietness, its intricacy in one part and its 

 open network in another part, this is a charming spot — a scene 

 which would be lovely enough without its crowning glory, the 

 guarded Purple Beech. The tree stands close against the brick 

 wall ; the circimiference of its embossed and tortuous trunk 

 is more than thirteen feet, and its l:)ranches extend eighty-five 

 feet. This is a large Beech to be only ninety years old, and it 

 is just possiljle that Mr. Dix may have planted it and the great 

 Elm before the house; but their stature is more probably to 

 be accounted for by the good soil and shelter. 



Many photographs, and we have room for but one, could 

 only partially illustrate the beauty and variety of the larger 



Native Shrubs of California. — I. 



Nuttallia cerasiformis, belonging to the alliance of the Cher- 

 ries and Plums, botanically something between the two, with 

 strong points of divergence from both, is perhaps our earliest 

 shrub to put forth leaves and fiowers. Before the end of 

 January, if the winter be mild, he who raml)les by brooklets 

 among the hills may catch a breath of fresh, delightful fra- 

 grance, and so be notified that Nuttallia is already coming into 

 bloom. Its nodding clusters of green and white, partly con- 

 cealed by half-grown leaves, make little slxow, and the shrub 

 is commonly of humble growth, aUhough occasionally appear- 

 ing in the dimensions of a Hazel-lnish. It must, nevertheless, 

 be a favorite wherever it is known, on account of the sweet 

 odor of its flowers — not heavy and surfeiting like that of the 

 wild Plums and Cherries, but most agreeable and refreshing, 

 something to be compared to the flavor of Almonds. No other 

 flowers have such a smell ; and I well remember how, in my 

 earlier walks in California, botanizing one April day in the 

 northern Sierra, at the base of Mount Sliasta, where half the 

 thickets were white and red with the bloom of Dogwood and 

 Redbud, and the rocky margins of the noisy mountain-streams 

 were set full of the Ijroad leaves and pink corymbs of the great 

 Saxifrage [S. peliata), all so attractive to the eye, I wondered 

 and wondered which of the many new beauties it was that gave 

 forth such unwonted and peculiar fragrance, until at length I 



