364 



Garden and Forest. 



[Number 180. 



moist from showers. The worst of droughts in June is 

 never so bad as the same dryness in July, for plants, which are 

 then in fullest vigor, can better bear the strain upon their con- 

 stitutions at that time ; it gives them a set-back, however, 

 which prevents a vigorous growth. Grass is the greatest 

 sufferer, and the first hay-crop is often ruined by lack of rain, 

 as was the case this year in our neighborhood. 



Upon the sandy knoll where our house is situated, and 

 especially along the street, in places only accessible to a very 

 long hose, the trees and turf suffered greatly, and the sudden 

 drop of fifty degrees of temperature at the end of the period 

 of drought, had a most disastrous effect upon the leaves, 

 which shriveled and curled and turned red, and dropped off 

 in many instances. A vigorous young Catalpa on our lawn, 

 which, after the cautious manner of its kind, only ventured to 

 put on its spring gown after the first of June, and then under- 

 took to blossom freely, was so distressed by the changes of 

 the weather that, after the storm, we found at least two bushels 

 of leaves strewing the ground beneath it, and many others in 

 such a condition that the lightest touch would detach them. 

 Enough remained, however, to protect the blossoms, which 

 are wonderful productions for a tree to bear, ff each one grew 

 in a garden on a single slender stem one would value it for its 

 exquisite painted beauty, and delicate perfume ; and to find 

 a great spike of them decorating a burly tree is a constant 

 source of astonishment at the prodigality of Nature. It is like 

 the appearance of a fine gentleman of the last century in a 

 ruffled shirt and diamond shoe-buckles, among the more 

 plainly coated^fw de siecle beaux of our own day. 



I have a great admiration for a Catalpa ; its huge vivid green 

 leaves give it a semi-tropical air, and its sensitiveness to cold 

 and storm shows that it comes naturally from a warmer clime 

 than ours. I try to console it for its exile by lending it in sum- 

 mer-time our Amazon parrot for a companion, and there is 

 no prettier sight than the vision of this lovely green bird, of 

 exactly the shades of the sunlight and shadow on the Catalpa- 

 leaves, pluming himself untethered upon the inner branches, 

 only caged by the dome of the great boughs with their ver- 

 dant canopy. When the leaves are in their prime he is per- 

 fectly concealed from view by his color, even when he takes 

 a fancy to perch upon an outer bough ; and there he mocks 

 and jeers at the passers-by with songs and laughter and merry 

 cries, till you would think a whole primary school was let 

 loose upon the lawn and all the pupils calling each other by 

 name, or else that this was a lunatic asylum. 



To return to the line of trees that border the street. We find 

 that it is not safe to leave them without a heavy top-dressing 

 to act as mulch, and this application having been delayed this 

 year by press of business, we found one good-sized Elm, that 

 we imagined to be settled for life, dropping its leaves and 

 turning brown in a most unbecoming manner, while the 

 smaller and more recently planted trees were also showing 

 signs of distress. A good dousing and dressing brought them 

 all to, however, and when the mowing of the swale after the 

 rain allowed us to make the rounds of the plantation, we dis- 

 covered that the only serious sufferers were our newly set 

 Pines, which are bringing the hill into disrepute by their 

 brown and sear condition. This eminence naturally suffers 

 severely from drought and hot weather ; the little Oaks and 

 Chestnuts burn up, and the Pines wilt distressingly, but they 

 are so numerous that there is nothing to be done for them but 

 to aw'ait the survival of the fittest. An Oak once rooted is 

 rooted forever, but it is a question of time as to when it can 

 maintain its top, and ours have burned off year after year, 

 until now they seem to have gained vigor enough to hang on 

 in spite of fate. 



Among the searching questions thatareput to the members 

 of the Society of Friends, in their meetings for the investiga- 

 tion of personal character, one of the queries is, " Has any 

 Friend entered into business beyond his ability to manage ? " 



This question we are obliged to answer in the affirmative 

 when we take time to ask it of ourselves, for, having outlined 

 work enough for a dozen men, it becomes a puzzle how to 

 carry it on with only the aid of one factotum ; extra hands be- 

 ing very hard to obtain in this village during the summer 

 months. Much that we do is accordingly a makeshift. I am 

 sadly obliged to confess to the existence of weeds where no 

 weeds should be, of neglected spaces, of trees on the hill 

 smothered by grass, of rose-bugs unslain, and caterpillars left 

 at large ; of a struggle for general effect, rather than a realiza- 

 tion of neatness in detail, all of which is most reprehensible 

 and melancholy. We look at our neighbors' neat gardens with 

 remorse and envy, and can only console ourselves by reflect- 

 ing that when they are gone the weeds will have their way, 



win and trample the weeds under their mighty feet, and rear 

 their stately heads proudly, while the Beets and Carrots of a 

 future generation are still struggling with their yearly foes. 



In a recent visit to the shores of the Merrimac, I have seen 

 hills carpeted with the fallen leaves of haughty Pines that have 

 numbered some centuries of growth, and I can smile at the 

 flaunting Daisies of the hill, which overtop our baby Ever- 

 greens, and threaten to exterminate them. Your days are 

 numbered, O weeds! Wave now and dance in the sunshine 

 while you may, for the first nails are being driven in your cof- 

 fins. Little you reck that the small brown spines that disap- 

 pear at your roots are the first drops of a rising tide that is to 

 bury your bright blossoms, and strangle your weedy growth. 

 For a few years to come you may preen yourselves upon the 

 hill-side, but the tiny seedlings below are rising higher and 

 higher, wider spread their green arms, thicker falls the brown 

 shower, which at first nourishes your gaudy uselessness, but 

 at last shall arise and overwhelm it forever. The gay and 

 trivial have their little day of sunshine and triumph, but the 

 strong roots of serious vigor endure when the sunlight fails 

 and the winter winds blow. Everything in the lower is typical 

 of the higher life, and the Ephemeral for a time seems brighter 

 and stronger than the Eternal ; but not forever. Though speed 

 may tell in a short race, it is bottom that wins the long ones, 

 and it is the patient who inherit the earth. 



This is the great lesson of the forest, the philosophy it plants 

 in him who nourishes it and awaits its growth. In the faint 

 rustle of the tiny leaflets I hear the murmur, "Wait ! " and as 

 I wander under the shade of trees a hundred years old, I hear 

 the echo far above me of that tender cry, in a solemn whisper : 

 "Wait! They, too, shall be as we are, giants in their day. 

 What matters it that thy little life will be long over ? for thee 

 the weeds and battle, for others the shade and rest. Plant 

 thou ! that is thy mission, and the joy of him who reaps the 

 fruit of thy labors shall be no greater than thine. Knowest 

 thou not, O thou of little faith ! that to lookforward is the best 

 of joys ? Thy reward is renewed to thee daily in thy hope. 

 Learn patience, and content thy soul." 



And so the young trees and the old alike give counsel to 

 him who can understand their language, whether he bends to 

 listen to the soft voice at his feet, or lifts his head to catch the 

 diapason of the overarching forest ; encouraged by the lesson, 

 we take up our burden anew, in our case the burden of a 

 watering-pot, and do battle with the drought with a braver 

 heart and sturdier resolution. 



Hingham, Mass. M. C. RobblUS. 



Changes Which Trees Create. 



A PART from the influence of trees upon the general climate 

 ■**- of a country, which has over and over again been proved 

 to be very great, trees play a very important part in ameliorat- 

 ing the extremes of temperature in a local sense. Many of 

 what are now our most enjoyable country-seats but for the 

 presence of trees would be little better than bleak and com- 

 fortless downs. In situations where hills and valleys alter- 

 nate, much may he done by a judicious selection of the spot 

 where the dwelling is to be placed ; but even then, without the 

 presence of trees, the site is never complete. The charm of 

 what are now some of the most lovely spots in these islands 

 would at once vanish if they were deprived of their trees, and 

 not only their charm in a picturesque sense, but in that of 

 bodily comfort. To one who has dwelt upon a more or less 

 bare and wind-swept upland, the sense of comfort in the re- 

 moval to a spot sheltered by clustering woods will be very 

 grateful, and more eloquent than the most fluent description. 



In considering the best use which can be made of trees for 

 shelter, the conditions existing must, of course, be taken into 

 account, namely, whether the house is already in existence, 

 and the trees have to be arranged to produce the greatest 

 amount of shelter in harmony with the necessities of the land- 

 scape, or whether the trees and woods are already growing, 

 and the position of the house has to be determined upon from 

 these. In the former case, for climatic reasons, the situation 

 and alignment must be determined on to give the greatest re- 

 sistance to the prevailing winds. In some cases other circum- 

 stances may interfere with this, but it is not often, with proper 

 arrangement, such difficulties cannot be overcome. Other 

 pens have condemned the practice of dotting trees about in- 

 stead of throwing them into suitable masses, as an offense to 

 the eye, and if it is desired to defeat the end of obtaining 

 shelter from trees, this objectionable system will be the sure 

 means of doing it, as trees so planted can be of no appreciable 

 use for the purpose. 



As in the landscape, so for equalizing heat and cold, trees 

 and woods are required, and must be grown in masses. In 



