SH 



Garden and Forest. 



[Number 228. 



pleasaunce should ever be a picture, and be treated with 

 the same artistic care, not to spoil its unity or to muddle 

 its lights and shadows, that the painter should show when 

 dealing with his canvas. Tone, gradation, emphasis are 

 as important in the garden as in the drawing. There 

 should be a high light, a depth of darkness — a middle dis- 

 tance, a foreground and a perspective. This, as the 

 Japanese show us, can be managed even in a tiny en- 

 closure ; but what the average gardener lacks is courage 

 to destroy. It is only a master in landscape-construction 

 who dares to cut a swathe through a forest, or fell a giant 

 to improve a vista. Such a destroyer, as we have shown 

 before, is looked upon with terror by the uninstructed, when 

 he demands the sacrifice of some long-cherished Oak or 

 Pine which has been an object of family pride for years. 

 The flower-beds have always been in one spot, whjr should 

 they be disturbed ? A grandfather planted that Chestnut ; 

 there is a sentiment against cutting it down. It is ob- 

 structions of this kind that are encountered by him whose 

 far-seeing eye looks into the future, sees the perfected pic- 

 ture with all its detail subordinate to one leading thought, 

 and grows impatient at what seems to him irrelevant ob- 

 struction. 



The first lesson of beauty, then, to be learned by the 

 student is the lesson of simplicity and breadth. To this he 

 must come by the hard road of sacrifice, giving up many a 

 cherished prejudice, many an object long unwisely valued. 

 When he has grasped this idea as of preeminent value, he 

 will have made the first step in a true knowledge of the 

 requirements of landscape-gardening as an art, and will 

 have permanently mastered an elemental truth with regard 

 to all artistic beauty. 



T 



A Bit of Wild Nature in Pennsylvania. 



HE " Bear Meadows," in Centre County, Pennsylvania, have 

 long enjoyed a local reputation among lovers of nature as 

 one of those odd places so different from its surroundings as 

 to excite great curiosity. It is simply a peat-bog, occupying, 

 perhaps, a mile square of what, if the drainage and water-flow 

 were better, would be a "kettle," in the hunters' vernacular. 

 The surrounding ridges, though low, are ample enough to 

 give a small, but very constant, stream, the outlet of which 

 being impeded holds back the water, once, perhaps, as a 

 small lake, but now silted and choked with peat, through which 

 the sluggish dark-colored water slowly forces its way. 



Such a bog, in a region where bogs and lakes are uncom- 

 mon, almost unknown, has naturally been a marked spot in 

 the topography of the neighborhood and a favorite and attrac- 

 tive place for hunting ^nd fishing. To a naturalist the chief 

 attraction is in the curious commingling of the flora. The cen- 

 tre is covered almost exclusively with the commoner and 

 coarser Sedges, with here and there clumps of Alders and oc- 

 casionally Cranberries. The peat is here over ten feet deep, 

 and shakes perceptibly under the tread. The larger area, how- 

 ever, is the border of the marsh, over which is a vigorous 

 growth of a great variety of trees, in marked contrast to the 

 meagre selection afforded by the surrounding higher lands. 

 Many species, too, have acquired unusual size, and though 

 culled out more or less, the general effect is of the "forest 

 primeval." Huge White Pines, Tulip Poplars and Red Maples 

 are frequent. Black Spruces abound in certain places, and 

 reach large dimensions, their dark spiry tops mailing a sky- 

 Hne in sharp contrast with the other trees. In much smaller 

 numbers, and seldom more than a foot in diameter, are the 

 Balsam Firs. Locally, both species are called Taniarack, a 

 curious misnomer, the occasion for which I have notbeen able 

 to discover. Their small slender trunks have always been in 

 great demand for flag-poles, hay-ladders, etc., and but few 

 would have been left had the meadows been more accessible. 



Of minor plants there are many to attract the visitor. Proba- 

 bly to most persons the Pitcher-plants are the most curious, 

 since they grow nowhere else in the neighborhood. Bedded 

 in the Sphagnum-moss they are perfectly at home, and grow 

 vigorously. Gold-thread, the Painted Trillium and the Buck- 

 bean (Menyanthes) are other characteristic marsh-plants of 

 the north that are here. The latter seems quite out of its lati- 

 tude. It is not abundant, and does not seem to be holding its 

 own. In places the round-leaved Sundew is abundant, and so 

 are the delicate little Star-flower (Trientalis) and the dwarf 



Cornel. The smaller Smilacinas and Clintonia borealis are fre- 

 quent and very vigorous, and their symmetrical polished 

 green leaves at once attract attention. Orchids are naturally 

 sought for in such a place. Some are quite common, such as 

 Cypripedium acaule and Habenaria ciliaris, both running up 

 and into the drier ground, and often quite striking because of 

 their abundance. Less commonly met with are H. tridentata, 

 Listera cordata, Pogonia verticillata and Calopogon pulchellus. 

 Still others would doubtless reward a careful search were one 

 to take time at the proper season for them. It is slow and 

 tiresome work to explore the tangled parts of the border and 

 the drier hummocks. The thickets of Rhododendron are ex- 

 ceedingly dense, and when mixed with the common Green- 

 brier (Smilax) are scarcely penetrable. 



In these thickets were made the bear traps or pens, from 

 which the name Bear Meadows is derived. In days gone by 

 this was the great fascination the meadows had for the hunting 

 fraternity. At some one of the numerous springs about Ihe 

 border was the favorite place to camp. Cooler, more soft and 

 delicious water than came from these sand-stone springs no- 

 where existed, while the charm of a summer-night here under 

 the stars was indescribable. Nowhere else did the air seem so 

 balmy and invigorating, and that exquisite music, the sighing 

 of the Pines, was seldom wanting. 



About three years ago, in writing to Forest Leaves, I said 

 that a lumber company had recently begun work hereabout, 

 were building a tramway with which to reach the meadows, 

 and were preparing to cut, as they expressed it, " everything 

 down to the size of a stove-pipe." Thus far they have been 

 cutting chiefly the Pitch Pine, which goes to the anthracite re- 

 gion for mine-supports or " prop," as it is called. They have 

 now begun to penetrate the meadows, have put up a mill, and 

 are sawing the larger timber. The best of the White Pine is 

 cut up into bridge material, the poorer and refuse parts into 

 shingles, pickets, etc., while the Spruce and Fir, so far, all goes 

 to the pulp-mills. The illustration (page 319) shows one of 

 the White Pines which have been felled, and gives the imagina- 

 tion an opportunity to picture the changes which a band of 

 energetic choppers are likely to bring about after they have 

 worked their will in a forest. The ground is more marshy 

 here than the picture indicates. The tramway rests on slabs 

 to keep it from settling, and horses are preferred to mules, 

 because the smaller hoofs of the mules sink more easily in 

 the soft footing. 



The fear that fire would follow in their wake has in part been 

 realized. Last year was the worst for many years, while this 

 season there have been no fires at all. 



Considering the marshy nature of the meadows themselves, 

 it may be that even after being thoroughly worked over and 

 littered with tops and rubbish, the swamp may escape a gen- 

 eral conflagration. This would be fortunate, for, left again to 

 Nature's tender care, it would in time be reclothed and re- 

 newed, and be, perhaps, to another generation what it has 

 been to this — a place of unspeakable restfulness. Nature has 

 here been left alone to do her perfect work, and the Bear 

 Meadows are so closely walled in by mountain-ridges that the 

 busy work-day world seems hundreds of miles away. 



State College, Pa. W. A. Buckhout. 



A Manufactory of Roses. 



THE following translation of an article by M. Henry 

 de Vilmorin, in La Revue Horticole, appeared in a 

 recent number of the Literary Digest : 



I have several times had occasion to visit the famous Park 

 of Roses, at Nice. The flowers produced there are the most 

 beautiful in the world. 



Both banks of the Var are bordered by a line of hills of 

 some height, which are prolonged as far as the sea. The hills 

 on the left bank aid in protecting the whole plain of Nice from 

 the north-west wind. Toward the southern extremity of these 

 hills, on very rich, alluvial soil, is the Carras quarter, in which 

 are the principal market gardens of Nice. In that quarter, 

 also, a little higher up on the slope of the hill, is the Josephine 

 Villa, or Park of Roses. 



Here roses are cultivated exclusively for sale in winter as 

 cut flowers. Out of the twenty-eight or thirty acres which the 

 property comprises, about ten acres are devoted to the purpose 

 of forcing the Rose-trees, and are covered with very numerous 

 small greenhouses or extensive hot-bed frames, one or the 

 other of these being always in use for furfliering the produc- 

 tion of the flowers. The total surface covered with glass 

 exceeds 6,000 square metres, or an acre and a half. 



Naturally, it is during the months of active sale, from 



