The Garden Magazine 



Let Us Have "Peace Trees" 



WE HAVE lived through the world's 

 greatest war. We have been privi- 

 leged to see it end; we stand upon 

 the threshold of a new peace. And 

 because the war was the greatest, and the most 

 terrible in all history, the peace that is to succeed 

 it must necessarily become the greatest, most 

 glorious peace time that ever came upon earth. 

 Wherefore, rightly enough, we yearn to celebrate 

 it, to pay tribute to it, to mark it upon our mem- 

 ories and into the course of our daily lives in a 

 manner fitting, worthy, and adequate. But how? 



What note would we have such a tribute 

 strike? What thought, what sentiment should 

 it convey? 



The dominating idea should comprise the an- 

 tithesis of all the horrors and trials and penalties 

 of war. It should strike the note of reconstruc- 

 tion, of upbuilding, rather than of destruction; 

 of beauty rather than of sordid ugliness; of peace- 

 ful calm rather than of turmoil; of service and 

 helpfulness. All these without the element of 

 tragic sacrifice. It should, in brief, be the sym- 

 bol, not of death, but of life — of vigorous, ever- 

 lasting growth. 



Why not, then, the "peace tree," or rather 

 millions of peace trees — one for every individual 

 or family that has had its heart in the winning 

 of the war and that now has its heart no less 

 sincerely in the prosecution of peace? Let us 

 plant trees, nd matter what kind, nor need 

 we be over precise as to where — the exact place 

 doesn't matter a rap — trees that will stand and 

 grow and become constantly more beautiful as 

 a tribute to the coming of peace, as a symbol 

 of the upward growth of the world and of hu- 

 manity to bring about which we are prepared 

 to lend our utmost aid. 



Our armies now in the invaded, desolated sec- 

 tions of Belgium and France, and our Y. M. C. A., 

 and Red Cross, and other workers are toiling 

 to rebuild those countries, to reestablish their 

 industries and their agriculture, to beautify 

 again their homes and countrysides, that the 

 scars of battle may be hidden and forgotten. 

 Our country has been spared that destruction 

 and desolation, but always it can be made more 

 beautiful. Why not let this era of reconstruction 

 in Europe be paralleled by a campaign of home 

 beautification over here? It will mean some- 

 thing, a good deal, in fact, to the men as they 

 return with vivid recollections of all they have 

 seen and heard waiting to be blotted out by 

 sights and sounds of peace and beauty. The 

 men who have seen the gardens of England and 

 France will be glad to see a new birth of garden 

 beauty in their home land. 



We plan to decorate our cities and towns 

 with flags and banners and plaster arches costing 

 thousands of dollars. And after a while the 

 flags will be taken down, the banners, if spared 

 by wind and weather will be removed, and the 

 plaster sculpture will be broken up and carted 

 away. Why not, instead of some of this, or, 

 if you like, in addition to it, bedeck our sur- 

 roundings in foliage and flowers, and plant trees 

 and shrubs, vines and hardy plants? Year after 

 year they will remain beautiful, imposing, useful. 

 Year after year they will continue to grow, sym- 

 bolizing the spread of peace and the democratic 

 justice upon which it is founded. Year after 

 year they will refresh our memories — not of the 

 horrors through which the world has passed, but 

 of the reward that has come to it, of the new, 

 priceless amalgam that has come forth out of 

 the flames of trial and adversity. 



The planting of "memorial trees," as sug- 

 gested by the American Forestry Association, 

 and other agencies for soldiers and sailors whose 

 lives have been taken as hostages of peace does 

 not go far enough. Rather should every family 

 who had a relative or close friend in any way 

 connected with the war's activities, plant its 

 own peace tree, getting the returned son or 

 brother or father or friend to help at the planting 

 ceremony, if possible. The tree would bear no 

 metal tag or tablet — its meaning would be en- 

 graven deeper upon the hearts and souls of those 

 who plant it and care for it and watch it wax 

 strong and ever more beautiful. If an Elm, 

 Oak, Hickory, or other ornamental, its shade can 

 render welcome service for generations to come. 

 If an apple or pear, or other fruit, it will sustain 

 and refresh season after season. Even if merely 

 a bush — a "service shrub" as it were — it will 

 gladden the eye and brighten the days of all 

 beholders while always it stands for the peace 

 for which men fought and bled and died. 



Nor is this plan, primarily one of aesthetics 

 and sentiment devoid of inevitable material 

 results. Assume that we have four million men 

 in our armed forces, and suppose that the families 

 of half of them are so located that they have a 

 back yard or a vacant lot if not a real lawn or 

 an open field in which to plant their peace tree. 

 That would mean two million or more trees 

 added to the resources, the fundamental wealth 

 and beauty of the nation. 



Again there is the effect on our bird population, 

 as emphasized by Mr. T. Gilbert Pearson of the 

 American Association of Audubon Societies, 

 in connection with the memorial tree idea. Far 

 less of our birds, he says, go south in winter than 

 is commonly supposed, and to those that remain 

 north; trees are a matter of life and death. Re- 

 duce their numbers and our feathered friends 



159 



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and allies are deprived of shelter and sanctuary; 

 increase them, and the birds thrive and multiply 

 and serve us well in our eternal warfare against 

 the insect pests of flower, fruit, and food plants. 



Trees along our highways will add to their at- 

 tractiveness and kindle a new community pride 

 in those who live amongst and beneath them. 



Trees on the hillsides will save our soil from 

 destructive erosion, our low lands from disastrous 

 floods, our wells and springs from serious short- 

 ages in times of need. 



Trees in thegarden and about the home will en- 

 rich the soul and lend new interest and color to life. 



"Let there be peace" indeed. And let us 

 commemorate its advent by planting more of 

 God's own trees in God's own country, and ours. 



Plant "peace trees" this spring. 



Restricting Importation of Nursery 

 Stock 



T HAS been at last officially announced by the 

 Department of Agriculture that a quarantine 

 order "governing the importation of nursery 

 stock and other plants and seeds into the United 

 States as a protection against the introduction 

 of insects and pests and plant diseases" has been 

 issued; and that on and after June first of this 

 year, the much debated regulation prohibiting 

 the importation of plants as articles of trade goes 

 into effect. 



"Under the terms of this quarantine and regu- 

 lation, fruits, vegetables, cereals, and other 

 plant products imported for medicinal, food or 

 manufacturing purposes, and field, vegetable, 

 and flower seeds, may be imported without per- 

 mit or other restrictions. Other classes of plants 

 for propagation permitted entry, including certain 

 bulbs, rose stocks, cuttings and scions, and seeds 

 of fruit, forest and other ornamental and shade 

 trees, and of hardy perennial ornamental shrubs, 

 may be imported only in accordance with the 

 permit and other requirements of the regulations." 



The effect of this order on the florist and nur- 

 sery trade and the reaction upon our gardens 

 will be far reaching. No more will we see Azaleas, 

 Bay trees, and Palms, and other products of the 

 nurseries of Belgium for example. It is idle now 

 to point out that the most devastating insect pest, 

 the gypsy moth, for instance, was not introduced 

 as an accidental rider on plants and nursery stock; 

 but was the deliberate introduction of a scientific 

 investigator for an entirely different purpose; 

 and that something like that could be said of a 

 multitude of other diseases and pests. 



That our gardens must suffer more or less by 

 the restricted introduction of novelties is in- 

 evitable. The bright ray that the future holds 



