October 5, 1892.] 



Garden and Forest. 



471 



larvae. This is a fair sample of the attitude of our New York 

 fruit-growers toward spraying. The practice lias taken an 

 assured place among the operations of the orchard, and I 

 imagine that if either spraying or cultivation had to be given 

 up for any year, most growers would discontinue the cultiva- 

 tion. 



The Maxwells, m all their orchards, devote the land exclu- 

 sively to the trees, and this is the common method ; but an 

 entirely different system may be seen upon the farms of S. D. 

 Willard, whose methods, like the man himself, are unique. 

 Mr. Willard has long been known as one of the most reliable 

 and energetic of the New York nurserymen, but his legitimate 

 fruit interests are very large and receive the greater part of 

 his devotion. Although Mr. Wiilard's chief energy is devoted 

 to Plums, concerning which he has the most exact knowledge, 

 he grows every fruit which will succeed in New York. He is 

 particularly fond of the English (looseberries, Currants and 

 Apricots. He derives intense pleasure from every tree and 

 variety upon his plantations, but the ultimate test of every 

 new thing- is its commercial value, and I have never yet found 

 an establishment which so happily conibines the two sides of 

 fruit-growing — the pleasure and the profit. The greatest 

 energy is directed in securing new varieties, both domestic 

 and foreign, and these are top-budded or top-grafted into old 

 trees, being designated by numbered tags. Several valuable 

 fruits have been brought to notice by Mr. Willard in this man- 

 ner, prominent among which are some of the Japanese Plums, 

 especially the Burbarik, which have here been well tested for 

 our northern country. Mr. Wiilard's method of fruit-growing 

 is peculiar and may be described as a mixed intensive method. 

 The leading fruit of the plantation is systematically planted, 

 but the spaces between the trees are jammed full of the most 

 puzzling assortment of fruits and other plants. His oldest 

 fruit-plantation was originally an Apple-orchard. Between the 

 Apples were set Plums, and as these and the smaller fruits 

 become more profitable, with approaching maturity, the Apples 

 are cut off. "Apples are too slow for me, and there is not 

 enough in them," is Mr. Wiilard's characteristic remark. 

 "They are profitable for larger farms and cheaper lands, but 

 I can make more money from the more perishable fruits." 

 So tlie skeleton of this unique fruit-plantation has been gradu- 

 ally transformed from Apples into Plums. Between the Plums 

 in some places are Quinces and Berries, or perhaps Grapes, 

 here and there ; now a row or a few trees of Pears, mostly of 

 the favorite Kieffer, a plantation of Blackberries with Straw- 

 berries between ; a bit of English Gooseberries or Raspberries 

 or Currants, or a few rows of nursery stock, very likely mound- 

 layered Multiflora Roses or Magnolia Stock. Everything is 

 crammed, jammed and tucked up, and everything is remark- 

 ably thrifty and productive. In fact, one is astonished to find 

 such a system successful, and with most men it could not be 

 so, but here it works to perfection. It is the only place in 

 which I was ever really satisfied that such thick and mixed 

 planting is successful. The secrets of success here are ma- 

 nure and cultivation. The land is naturally strong, and would 

 generally be regarded as rich enough for fruit-growing, with- 

 out fertilizing ; but the soil turned up by the cultivator along 

 the rows shows a liberal quantity of fine stable manure well 

 mixed in. Pruning, spraying, bug-catching, and all the other 

 requisites to the best orcharding, proceed upon well-consid- 

 ered plans. There are several of these places where Mr. 

 Willard practices this intensive culture, or something like it, 

 and everywhere one is struck with the enthusiasm and deter- 

 mination of the man. There are nurseries of large dimensions 

 belonging to him and scattered over a wide territory. The 

 feature of these nurseries which especially strikes the visitor, 

 is the enormous quantity of Birches, for here, I suppose, the 

 ornamental Birches are grown in greater quantity than at any 

 other establishment in this country. 



But a volume could easily be written upon the horticulture 

 of Geneva. It is altogether a remarkable and productive 

 country, and the soil and the inhabitants appear to be as fresh 

 as they were in the days when the great wheat-fields covered 

 these hills and plains. Here, too, is the State Experiment 

 Station, with unrivaled facilities, in its own equipment and in 

 the neighboring farms, for horticultural work. But we have 

 already tarried long at Geneva, and we must turn homeward. 

 We again round the foot of Seneca Lake, but instead of strik- 

 ing diagonally across the divide toward Cayuga, we skirt its 

 shores upon the west for many miles. Here we miss the 

 villages which we found in the outward journey, but, what is 

 more to our liking, we are constantly coming upon orchards 

 and vineyards and snug homes. Yet this western shore of 

 Seneca is only partially developed horliculturally. It has great 

 possibilities which are coming now to be appreciated. "There 



are isolated plantations of great extent, the most notable of 

 which is the great Smith farm near Ovid, overlooking the lake 

 from a most commanding bluff. In some respects this is one 

 of the most important orchard and vineyard establishments in 

 the lake region, particularly for the great number of apricots 

 which are growing in orchards like plums or peaches and 

 which are found to be a successful fruit for market. This 

 great plantation stands like an island in a desert of indifferent 

 old-style farms, a perennial proof of the possibilities of the 

 soil when tilled with diligence and fertilized with thought. 



Soon we turn eastward over the hills. As we rise above the 

 lake we pass away from the orchards and vineyards and find 

 ourselves among broad fields of hay and grain. There is little 

 corn, and the higher we go the less corn we see. Now Seneca 

 Lake lies far below us like a broad blue ribbon, and the patch- 

 work hills to the westward are tilted in haze against the sky. 

 It is an inspiring panorama, and we stop our horse often that 

 we may look back upon it. But the immediate prospect is no 

 longer pleasing. We are reaching the tops of the hills and we 

 are far from any village. The land looks cold and thin. It is 

 no longer cultivated in warm, snug fields. It is nearly all in 

 grass, and the land has long since lost its blood and body, as 

 the plant-food it contained was taken up by the grass and sold 

 away in the hay. The acres of daisies, the broken fences, the 

 staring barn-yards, the half-finished or ruined farm-houses, 

 all show that the farmer has been made to pay the penalty of 

 his own ignorance and indifference. He is too far from town 

 to attend the institutes and to receive the benefits of contact with 

 his fellow-men, and somehow he has never noticed that the 

 farms beyond him upon either slope, where grain and corn 

 and grass have been rotated these many years, are much 

 better and brighter than his. He is too high up to grow corn 

 for market, but he can do something beside raise grass, or he 

 can sell his grass as beef or mutton or butter and have the 

 manure for his land. But he has sold the heart of his farm 

 to the hay-dealer years ago, and he is an object of pity now. 

 Cold and bare and cheerless he drags out the weary years upon 

 these Cayuga hills. 



Now we pitch to the eastward into warm, fertile valleys and 

 by cosy homes, and under their inspiration we jog on happily 

 to Ithaca and end a pleasant four days' ride. 



Cornell University. L. H. Bailey. 



Shongum. — II. 



'X'HE great thickness of the sandstone ledges of these moun- 

 ■*• tains, and the natural cementing of the crevices in these 

 reservoirs by disintegration, have preserved several small 

 lakes amid the uplands in positions that add much to the 

 beauty of the scenery and to the variety 01 the vegetation. 

 Lake Minnewaska is nearly a triangle in shape, three-quarters 

 of a mile long by a fifth of a mile wide, and forty feet deep in 

 its deepest places, while the shores are everywhere bold and 

 rocky. Its clear pure waters reflect the tint of rock and foliage, 

 or, like a mirror, lie open to the sunshine and the sky. Along 

 one side the walls of white stone are regular in their stratifica- 

 tion and rise perpendicular to the height of ninety feet, with a 

 buttress here and there supporting an overhanging slab, 

 square cut, as if made with tools. All this is covered with 

 leathery brown lichen, indicating great age, and testifying to 

 the hardness of the material on which it grows. Huge heaps 

 of rock along the margin of the lake, and running up into the 

 few ravines that break the wall, give place for the growth of 

 trees and shrubs. There are Pines ten inches in diameter and 

 thirty feet high, with no apparent diet except sandstone and 

 water ; but the curious and far-reaching- wisdom with which 

 roots sometimes larger than the trunk of the tree are twisted 

 among the stones and wedged into their crevices suggests the 

 possession of some hidden knowledge of food by the Pinus 

 resinosa. Under these, and among the diSbris they have 

 made, the Kalmia and the pretty Mountain Holly (Nemo- 

 panthes fascicularis) luxuriate, clothing the feet of the giant 

 cliff with a soft green mantle as they dip tinder the water. 



Opposite the cliff the shore is more irregular in outline and 

 slightly receding, so as to give place among its ledges for the 

 most picturesque growth of trees, among which the Peperidge 

 (Nyssa) is frequent, and already gay in its brilliant autumn 

 colors. Along this edge of the lake, also, among more com- 

 mon Ferns, is the delicate Osmunda regalis. The eastern end 

 of the lake is narrow, and here the walls break down to give 

 an enchanting perspective, with the blue hills along the Hud- 

 son on the horizon. A similar break at one of the western 

 corners gives a glimpse of ihe Catsl<ills and the nearer moun- 

 tains, which we watch with eagerness when tlie glory of the 

 sunset makes a sublime picture of earth and sky. 



