LARCHES. 117 
gret that I did not multiply that number by ten at that 
time. They were quite small when I bought them— 
many not larger than a lead-pencil and not over a foot 
high. My ignorance as to how this climate would suit 
them was the only reason I did not venture to plant 
more at that time. Many of those trees are now stand- 
ing thirty feet high and six to seven inches through at 
base, as straight as an arrow, and much admired by those 
who see them. My mode of planting is to plough the 
ground deep—the deeper the better—and make it as 
mellow as possible. I do not advocate deep planting. 
I mark out with the plough furrows four feet apart each 
way. As I plant, I settle the fine earth firmly around 
the roots with my foot. Get the ground ready as early 
in the spring as possible for your trees, as the English 
larch is about the first tree that starts. At corn-plant- 
ing time I planted two grains or more of corn on the 
south side of each little tree; if more than two grew, I 
pulled them up. The corn-stalks acted as a shade for 
the young trees through the heat and drought of sum- 
mer, and I think it saved many, as the season was ex- 
tremely dry. 
“Many think that when they have planted, their work 
is ended, but it is just begun if one is resolved to suc- 
ceed. I kept the young larches well cultivated with the 
corn-cultivator, not allowing any weeds or grass to grow. 
I harvested corn enough to pay for the labor, and pro- 
duced the largest ears grown on the farm. The reason 
of this was that there were only two stalks to the hill, 
and they were well and often tended. I followed the 
same course the next season, and intended to do so the 
third, but in this I was prevented, as the trees had grown 
so fast that I could not get the horse and cultivator 
through without injuring them. That season they cov- 
ered the ground and choked out the grass and weeds— 
so ended my labor.” 
