JUNE 6, 1888.] 



Garden and Forest. « 



179 



of tliree or four feet, with dark g-reen, round, heart-shaped, 

 three to five lobed leaves, and slender two to three flowered 

 peduncles. The berry is larg-e, armed, like a burr, with long 

 prickles or rarely nearly smooth. Tlie wild Gooseberry thrives 

 in all soils and exposures. 



Botanists are familiar with Aiidroineda polifolia, but it is too 

 rarely seen in gardens, although, like many other plants which 

 are only found growing in their natural state in cold, deep 

 peat bogs, where they are often almost entirely submerged in 

 water, this beautiful evergreen takes kindly to cultivation and 

 flourishes and flowers in a garden border as freely as in its na- 

 tive swamps. In cultivation Andromeda polifolia makes a 

 handsome, compact mass of foliage two or three feet across, 

 and ten or twelve inches high. The leaves are about an inch 

 long, oblong-lanceolate, dark green above, white on the under 

 side, with the edges conspicuously rolled back. The pale 

 pink or flesh-colored, bell-shaped flowers are produced on 

 long pedicles in short terminal racemes or clusters, and con- 

 tinue to appear during several weeks. Andromeda polifolia is 

 widely distributed in North America from Pennsylvania far 

 northward ; it is found on the North-west Coast, in northern 

 Asia, in northern and on the high mountain ranges of central 

 Europe. J. 



The Forest. 



Tree Notes. 



AFTER passing through the intense heat and continu- 

 ous drought of last summer and the extreme cold of 

 the past winter, many important observations can be made 

 as to its effect on trees in different localities, and as is 

 usual after such severe seasons, the statements will be 

 conflicting, and many cases reported that neither science 

 nor practical experience can account for. In localities 

 where there were seasonable fall rains, trees will be 

 found to have suffered less than where they went into the 

 winter without sufficient moisture at the roots ; further 

 than this I have no opinion to offer, for in my experi- 

 ence, each severe winter has had a different effect from 

 the previous ones. 



As I spent the past summer and winter on the Pacific 

 Slope I have not had an opportunity to examine the 

 damage done here, but I took a deep interest in the ef- 

 fects produced there, where it was unusually cold for a 

 few days, even to forming ice in some spots in the San 

 Gabriel valley. 



Tender herbaceous plants and Palms were injured in 

 some places — the latter very slightly — while they escaped 

 unhurt in others. The varying effect upon exotic trees 

 was noticeable. In one part of the valley I saw the Rub- 

 ber tree four or five years transplanted and having made a 

 2;^ to 3 feet annual growth, cut back or injured for nearly 

 3 feet, while in*other places a mile or two distant I saw the 

 same tree over 30 feet high, not even injured in the ter- 

 minal bud. 



Two reasons might be given, either of which would 

 account for this difference. The younger tree, irrigated 

 and growing very rapidly, would not be in as good 

 condition to withstand a slight freeze as the more 

 mature tree with a more gradual and better ripened 

 growth. The older tree stood nearer the mountain, con- 

 sequently the cold north wind could not reach it as it did 

 the tree further off in the valle)'. 



The people in California said they had not experienced 

 such a cold wave for fifteen years; this I could believe, 

 as they had nature for an endorser. Trees always tell the 

 truth and they told it very plainly. 



The effect of a hard winter in the desert and on the 

 mountains where nature had full sway was still more in- 

 teresting. Even among the Sages, Greasewoods, and the 

 numerous shrubs and plants on the desert I could see 

 many that showed the effects of an unusually hard winter 

 for that climate, but as we climbed the mountains the 

 effects were most plainly visible. 



The shrubs and plants which had crept up the sitle of 

 the mountain from the edge of the Desert grew smaller 

 and more shrubby at every step. The western Juniper 



and one of the evergreen Oaks, particularly arrested my 

 attention. They had grown on year after year, making a 

 very short growth each year, and holding their leaves, but 

 last winter cut off many years' growth, the foliage still 

 hanging on red and lifeless. 



As we ascend the mountain higher and higher one plant 

 after another drops out, until at last we find only the irre- 

 pressible Yellow Pine, Pinus ponderosa, standing majestic- 

 ally alone, tall, noble shafts, now in masses, again in groups, 

 and then a single tree, with short grass nearly covering the 

 ground in the open spaces. For many miles east and 

 west of Flagstaff, Arizona, these trees form an immense 

 park, and although one species, present so many forms on 

 hill, crag, plain and valley, that the forest does not strike 

 one as being monotonous. 



As we gradually descend we find now and then a few 

 diminutive deciduous Oaks, Poplars and wild Roses. The 

 valleys, plains and open spaces intersecting this immense 

 forest are covered with a short species of bunch grass 

 nearly covering the ground, giving them somewhat the ap- 

 pearance of a well kept lawn, as there are no shrubs and 

 few young trees intermixed. The trees stand much further 

 apart than in eastern forests, and as they are entirely free 

 from branches for nearl)' two-thirds of their whole height, 

 the view extends far in among the tall straight trunks, and 

 is much to be admired, the light cinnamon colored bark 

 having a pleasing effect. 



Sheep, cattle and horses are feeding on the grass, and the 

 saw mills are devouring the timber. These forests are 

 already doomed. Few seedlings are springing up to take 

 the place of the older trees, and these will not be able to 

 stand alone and bear the severity of the hot sun and parch- 

 ing desert winds. These forests have stood till now in 

 spite of all the hardships they have had to encounter, Init 

 dollars and cents are too much for them ! there is money 

 in them, so they must go ! 



We call the Indians savages ! Yet they have more fore- 

 thought in this case than the white men. They have 

 roamed among these forests from time immemorial, and 

 they have made their mark on the Yellow Pine, for we 

 see that when food is scarce in the early summer, they 

 take strips of bark from the large trees, and eat the mucil- 

 aginous part of the immature sap wood, but they never 

 take the slrip wide enough to kill the tree, going from one 

 tree to another and not peeling over one-quarter of the cir- 

 cumference of the trunk, so that the tree receives little or 

 no damage. 



Robert Dousrlas. 



Correspondence. 



To the Editor of Garden and Forest : 



Sir. — As the season approaches in which the bloom of the 

 Ailantlnis distresses persons in its vicinity, I am impelled to 

 offer some information with regard to this tree. 



It is usually spoken of as a valuable tree for planting, de- 

 spite the disagreeable odor of its blossoms. Its rapid growtli 

 and beautiful foliage make it a favorite with niany, and 

 comparativelyfewareacquainted with its deleterious influence. 

 I am told by a citizen of Boonsboro, I\Id., that at one time 

 there were many victims to consumption in that place. Phy- 

 sicians were puzzled to accoiuU for its prevalence in what was 

 formerlv a healthy mountain town. One doctor called the 

 attention of the fraternity to the fact that the cases were in one 

 particular section of the' town, and it was discovered that the 

 trees in that end were principally Ailanthus. The fact came 

 out by inquiry that in each case, where there was not heredi- 

 tary tendency, the patient had first an annual attack of a 

 strange sickness in June, which lasted l)ut a few weeks. The 

 stomach would be disturfied and a peculiar sore throat was 

 one of the symptoms of the temporary sickness. After a few 

 years the throat liecame chronically sensitive, but was alway.s 

 worse in June, and, eventually, consumption set in. 



The particular time in June' when this disease prevailed was 

 during the blooming of the Ailanthus. I have been told that 

 legislation was secured in Ohio to prevent the planting of this 

 noxious tree. In my own town there have been marked cases 

 of sickness resulting from propinquity of this tree. 



