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Garden and Forest. 



[Number 204, 



apt to pass through carelessly, more conscious of the unfin- 

 ished grounds than of the plans for a great future which have 

 been so carefully considered in the work about him. For here 

 he beholds not the taste of the day and hour, the rendering of 

 a passing fashion in grouping of trees or massing of shrub- 

 bery, but a permanent scientific arrangement, at once fine and 

 instructive, which is to be not only for his benefit, but for that 

 of many generations to come, who shall enjoy the full perfec- 

 tion of that of which he receives but a promise. 



Through these entrances so strong and simple, where the 

 plain granite gate-posts are just massive enough to be im- 

 pressive without pretension, he enters one of the great gardens 

 of the world, to be considered by the future American with 

 tlie same respect with which the Englishman regards Kew, 

 and the Frenchman the Jardin des Plantes. 



There are various ways to reach the Arboretum, but to the 

 visitor by rail the Forest Hills Station, on the Boston and 

 Albany Railroad, affords a convenient approach, and by enter- 

 ing at the South Street gate he is introduced at once to the 

 noblest feature of all — the rocky hill covered with noble Hem- 

 locks, which rises on the left of the entrance — while on the 

 right is another elevation, now crowned with a young and 

 vigorous growth of Hickory, planted Pines, Larches and other 

 conifers, that in a hundred years may make it a rival for the op- 

 posite hill, which has borne its stately crown of evergreens 

 perhaps for niore than a century and a half. 



At whatever season one enters this ancient forest it is ven- 

 erable and impressive. The hill is a wall of rock in broken 

 terraces, and here upon its northern slope the giant trees lift 

 their great shafts and spread their green branches, even as 

 they must have done when Paul Revere was a boy, and British 

 soldiers patrolled the streets of little Tri-Mountain. 



There is no level ground except at the very base of the rise, 

 where a stony brook tumbles along beside a narrow foot-path 

 which you cross a plank to reach. In summer the trees afford 

 cool and grateful shade ; in winter shelter and warmth, for the 

 winds are baffled by their phalan.x of trunks and boughs and 

 foliage, and cannot penetrate the depths of this forest-asylum. 



Following the little woodland-path that skirts the hill you 

 emerge finally upon the broad drive-way, to which it runs 

 nearly parallel. This drive-way, admirably graded, leads by a 

 gentle ascent to the higher ground, bordered throughout its 

 large, gracefully sweeping curves by masses of native shrubs, 

 which, either filled with blossoms or fruit, produce all sum- 

 mer the most pleasing effects of color. 



Apparently artless in their growth, there is a perfection in 

 the contour of the whole beautiful border, which shows the 

 most careful supervision. Creepers run from the bushes to 

 veil the edges of the road, and the mass behind leads gradu- 

 ally up to the groups of trees, which are arranged in botanical 

 order, but in such natural groups and blending that the be- 

 holder does not realize that what he sees is the perfect and 

 thoroughly contrived section of a finished whole. 



First, on the right, come the Beeches, with their spreading 

 branches and serrated leaves. Like all the trees in the per- 

 manent plantation of this young garden, they have been started 

 here from seed or bud, and, of course, are still comparatively 

 small ; but, as they are to endure for a century or two, they 

 are planted at wide distances, so that there will be ample room 

 for the sweep of their great branches. Even now they are 

 beautiful, with their smooth boles and shining leaves, which 

 always seem to catch and reflect more sunlight than those of 

 any other deciduous tree. 



Beyond these come the great variety of Oaks, stretching far 

 along the right of the drive-way, while on the left are groups of 

 Hornbeams, rough-barked and gnarled, some of them with 

 hop-like blossoms and leaves like Elms ; and then come Chest- 

 nuts in variety, and finally a great mass of Hickories of all 

 sorts, between which and the groups of Butternuts and Black 

 Walnuts the road makes a serpentine curve upon itself, and 

 comes gently rising to the summit of the hill, where, from a 

 circular esplanade, there is an e.xtended view of all the sur- 

 rounding country, with villages and scattered dwellings nestling 

 amid groups of trees, and the far-away towers and spires of 

 Boston, and in another direction the grand outline of the Blue 

 Hills, the whole making a noble outlook full of variety and 

 beauty such as any park might well rejoice in. Here at your 

 feet lie the groups of Birches, Elms and Ash-trees, with Catal- 

 pas on a rising ground behind, by which you pass as you wind 

 round the hill on the east side, coming down to the interesting 

 nursery and the great group of systematically arranged 

 shrubs, two miles and a half of them, if you count the 

 length of the walks between the different beds, where they 

 are grouped in splendid luxuriance ; such specimens ! so vig- 

 orous, so handsome, so laden with blossom or fruit according 



to the season ! It is enough to make the amateur die with 

 envy to see the way they flourish in the rich soil which is sup- 

 plied to them, where never a weed is permitted apparently to 

 show its intrusive head. 



The vines climb upon tall poles andspreadouttheirbranches 

 and tendrils until they resemble trees ; the Rose-bushes, all 

 single-flowered, bend overwith their weightof blossom. The air 

 is fragrant with Honeysuckles and Sweet-brier. The bees make 

 harvest in the warm sunshine and riot amid the wealth of 

 flowers. You forget you are there to learn something, and 

 revel simply in the great luxuriance of this marvelous garden, 

 where are to be seen specimens from all temperate lands 

 grouped and labeled, so that they become an object-lesson of 

 rare beauty. At whatever time of year you go, these beds are 

 gay with flowers or rich with fruits, hanging singly or in clus- 

 ters from the bending branches. Do you want a shrub for 

 your garden ? Here you can see its effect when brilliant with 

 summer bloom, or jeweled with ruby and amethyst fruitage. 

 Does your porch need the shelter of clambering Rose or 

 twining vine ? Here you can judge of the proportions to which 

 it will grow under careful nurture. Do your nursery speci- 

 mens fail to answer your expectations ? At the Arboretum 

 you can learn how to help and stimulate their best develop- 

 ment. 



It will be hard to tear yourself away from the shrubs, and 

 when you have left them behind you resolutely, there are 

 more trees to see, trees cultivated and trees wild, trees that 

 have been pruned and saved from a lingering death, trees that 

 have been grown from seeds sown in the nurseries of this 

 lovingly tended garden. From Magnolia to conifer they run, 

 in all the varying scale of arborescent beauty ; and of all the 

 plantations there are none more delightful than the groups of 

 evergreens growing symmetrically on a slope near the Walter 

 Street entrance. 



There is a wonderful charm in these groups of Firs and 

 Spruces in endless variety of form and color — stout little 

 Spruces from the Rocky Mountains, the stately fast-growing 

 Douglas Fir, the beautiful Blue Spruce of Colorado, the Black 

 Spruces from Maine, and the White Spruces from Canada, all 

 flourish here, with many other varieties, which are less inter- 

 esting, botanically, to me than as the most lovely little trees 

 in the world. For in these plantations, only begun seventeen 

 years ago, every tree is vigorously young. They are raised 

 from seed planted in the nurseries here, and are carefully se- 

 lected for the vigor and beauty of their growth. 



The only thing I complain of is that the .A.rboretum authori- 

 ties provide the visitor with no place to sit down and enjoy all 

 these wonderful things, among which one wanders until one 

 is weary with pleasure. One would gladly sit for an hour 

 among these wiiming evergreens until each had become 

 an identity, making little excursions into the mysterious depths 

 of the bosquets and returning to contemplate some especial 

 favorite. The Pines and Larches are equally lovely, but I 

 have a liking for the sturdy Spruces and Firs, wrapped like 

 Esquimaux in their furry tight-fitting garments, sitting down 

 solidly on the ground, with their pyramidal persistence, bid- 

 ding defiance to wind and weather, and affording alike shelter 

 and satisfaction. 



They tell tales of snowy plains and bleak hillsides and far- 

 away peaks, presenting their serried spears to the blast. Their 

 serrated outline against the sky, familiar to me from child- 

 hood, is quite other than that of the deciduous trees of south- 

 ern New England, interspersed as they are with the broad soft 

 masses of Pine-branches. They have an aspect of theii' own, 

 full of suggestion to the true northerner who has been shel- 

 tercil by their somewhat austere presence. They partake, too, 

 of the northern character, really valual.ile and' steadfast but 

 not alluring, full of sharp edges and prickly points, and wear- 

 ing an aggressive air to strangers, with the same power to 

 kindle and burn with a tremendous flame when the occasion 

 comes. 



But do not linger too long among the conifers, for there are 

 natural woods to walk in, that have not been planted, with 

 crackling leaves underfoot, and underbrush to catch your gar- 

 ments, and glimpses of blue sky through crowding branches, 

 under whose shade young seedlings spring up strong and tall 

 — a perpetual storehouse of specimens for the Arboretum. 



Nor must you go until you have climbed to the top of the 

 Hemlock Hill and rested in the shadow of its mighty giants 

 and learned what centuries can do for trees, and wondered 

 that in the city's heart so fine and wild a tract of woods as 

 this should still exist to gladden the hearts of its inhabitants. 



And soon there will be tfie new museum to see, the splendid 

 gift of Mr. H. H. Hunnewell, witli all sorts of treasures within, 

 the great library, and valuable herbarium, which for years 



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