44 
The Garden Magazine, September, 1920' 
much finer and more delicate and lively in appearance. — John W. 
Chamberlain, Buffalo, N. Y. 
Phlox 
Does Not 
Flower 
| SHOULD be very grateful if 
1 neighbor would give the answer 
some 
fighbor would give the answer to a 
horticultural puzzle which has been occupying 
me for a long time. Some years ago a friend 
who knew my liking for the Phlox Elizabeth Campbell sent me an 
enormous clump of it. This was planted in rich soil without breaking 
it up. For a few years it put out an occasional blossom. Thinking it 
was root bound, I cut it up into moderate sized clumps. It still put 
forth only an occasional bloom. Being curious, I proceeded to break 
it up into individual plants. Still the old habit. I iiave now a 
young plantation of very thrift)' looking Phlox, known to be Elizabeth 
Campbell, in all respects normal except shyness of bloom. Being 
obstinate and interested, 1 have tried every device I could think of, 
such as heading back, propagating from cuttings, variety of ground and 
feeding, yet still this strange sterility, while other Elizabeth Campbells 
follow the normal course of their attractive lives all around the Garden. 
What has happened? — William Fenwick, Harris, Mass. 
TF THE shell of a squash or pumpkin can 
With * be made airti § ht - ^ wil1 kee P lil1 spring, 
affin Coat with paraffin or varnish to seal effect- 
ually against the spores that start decay. 
Spread on with a brush, or dip in the melted paraffin if it is in a large 
vessel. The paraffin should not be hot but merely in a fluid state. 
— H. F. Grinstead, Mo. 
Gathering 
in the 
Fruit 
I N MOST years there is a considerable wast- 
age of fruit owing to the fact that it is gath- 
ered in an immature state. Sometimes, of 
course, this is done deliberately in order to 
secure an early crop. Wherever possible fruit should be allowed to 
remain on the tree until it is fully developed. In the case of the stone 
fruits, this will mean do not gather before they are practically ripe. 
The remark applies to some Apples and Pears but not by any means 
to all kinds. Color is not a very reliable indication for Plums, etc. 
and by far the best plan is to feel the fruit in this way: On no account 
should it be pinched between the thumb and finger but one should en- 
close the whole fruit in the hand and give a gentle squeeze. If the 
fruit is fit for gathering there will be a slight “give” all over. After a 
little practise it is possible to tell in a moment whether fruit is ripe or 
not. Damsons and Bullaces often hang well into the fall and if they 
are left to experience a touch of frost they will lose a great deal of their 
rough flavor. How can one tell when an Apple or Pear is fit for gath- 
ering? When the fruit begins to fall, providing this is not caused by 
grubs at the core or by wind. A very good test, if one is not sure, is as 
follows: Take the fruit and gently lift it up. If the Apple or Pear 
comes away easily from the branch this is a sign that the maturity of 
the fruit has been reached. Whether Apples or Pears are fit for eating 
on gathering depends upon the variety. Some of the best Pears, for 
instance, will not be sweet until Christmas and such as these must be 
carefully stored away. Others may be cooking varieties almost as 
hard as iron when raw, yet soft and wholesome after culinary treat- 
ment. Not a few Apples, which are quite nice to cut at once, will also 
keep well for several months. Everything depends upon the variety and 
here it is wise, if one does not know, to consult someone who really 
does. — S. Leonard Bastin, Bournemouth, Eng. 
Ground Ivy 
as a Table 
Decoration 
J UST after St. Patrick’s Day this year 
there seemed to be no available flowers 
cither in the woods or the garden, but a corner 
of the old Potato patch was lilacy-blue with 
Ground Ivy (Nepeta glechoma which your Northern dealers will let 
you have for twenty-fivecents 
a plant). 1 uprooted a plant 
of it and put it in a bulb 
dish with plenty of water and 
it made a decorative centre 
piece for nearly a week, when 
I replaced it with another 
until other things were in 
bloom. — G. D. Beadel, Leon 
Co., Florida. 
Wants 
to get 
Yuccas 
I N THE July issue is an article entitled 
“The Yucca Plant and Its Insect Ally,” 
in the course of which it is stated “all are not 
hardy where frost is severe, to be sure, but 
(named in the order of their flowering) the glauca, filamentosa, flac- 
cida, baccata, recurvifolia, and gloriosa are.” 1 have grown Yucca 
filamentosa for a long time in large groups of from 50 to 100 in each, 
and found them highly effective. I desire to increase my experience of 
Yuccas. Where can 1 get those here named, other than filamentosa? 
Andrew Van Dyck, 2 Rochester Savings Bank Building, Rochester, N . Y. 
Some Worthy 
Trees Near 
Bath, Pa. 
1 HAVE been greatly interested ar 
*■ structed in the reading of Professo 
ind in- 
Professor Wil- 
son’s articles on “The Romance of Our 
Trees.” Having always been an ardent lover 
of nature, these excellent descriptions, with the fine illustrations, in- 
cited in me renewed affection for tree life. Consequently I take my 125 
foot tape and wander over the hills to the General Brown homestead, 
near Bath, Pennsylvania, where are many of the trees of mv childhood. 
Like the genial poet, Dr. Holmes, 1 raise my hat in their presence, for 
here are Locust trees fifteen feet in circumference, Sycamores and Ash 
of fourteen feet, Sassafras of ten feet, and others nearly as large. But 
the noblest of all is a Horsechestnut tree that General Washington took 
from his Mt. Vernon estate and presented to General Brown who 
planted it here in front of the ancestral home — so tradition has it. 
To-day (July 1, 1920), its base circumference is twenty feet and seven 
inches, and six feet from the ground its girth is seventeen feet. Its 
broadest expanse is eighty-five feet, and age approximately one hunded 
and forty years. It is as handsome in form as it is large in size and 
venerable in age, and it may be worth the remark that, notwith- 
standing all the buffeting it has received from storms, its original 
beauty and symmetry have not been impaired, although it has at times 
lost a few of its heavy branches. 
To see it in full bloom, visited by thousands of bees, as I did on May 
27th last, is a beautiful sight, “a pyramid of green supporting a 
thousand pyramids of white.” Each blossom of the dense cluster has at 
its throat dashes of red and yellow, and the curving stamens are thrust 
far out of the ruffled border of the corolla. If they were rare flowers 
they would be admired as Orchids are now. Longfellow has beautifully 
immortalized another in song. But how would he have written if he 
could have seen this grand floral sight! These trees are the property 
of the Bath Portland Cement Company, and the Vice-President, Mr. 
F. B. Franks, is cautious for their protection. In my ramblings I 
thought of what some of our great American authors have written 
of trees. I remember that James Russell Lowell was near to nature’s 
heart, and never lost the thrill of being out of doors. He was admirably 
a lover of trees, and they were the inspiration of some of his best prose 
and poetry. This love of trees led him to call his pleasant place of 
residence in Cambridge, “Elmwood.” Better than any biography of 
Lowell are his letters, wherein are revealed his wide reading, lofty 
patriotism, keen wit, and gentle humor, and his fearless and unselfish 
devotion to what he believed to be right. Therefore, I am pleased to 
give you a copy of the following letter written to me many years ago, 
when the school children of Bath planted a Horsechestnut tree and 
named it in honor of the poet. 
Elmwood, Cambridge 
April 5, 1891. 
Dear Sir: 
1 sympathize warmly with the gracious object for the furtherance of which 
Arbor Day was instituted. I have planted many trees, and every summer they 
repay me with an abundant gratitude. There is not a leaf on them but whis- 
pers benediction. I often think of the Scottish farmer’s words quoted by Scott: 
“ Be aye stickin’ in a tree, Jock, ’twill be growin’ while ye’re sleepin’.” In my 
childhood I put a nut into the earth, from which sprang a Horsechestnut tree, 
whose trunk has now a girth of eight feet, and sustains a vast dome of verdure, 
the haunt of birds and bees and of thoughts as cheery as they. In planting a 
tree we lay the foundation of a structure of which the seasons (without care of 
ours) shall be the builders, and which shall be a joy to others when we are gone. 
I need not say how great a pleasure it is to me that my young friends should 
decorate my memory with a tree of their planting. I wish 1 could be with them 
to throw the first shovelful of earth upon its roots. 
Faithfully yours, 
(Signed) J. R. Lowell. 
To Asa K. Mclihaney 
Principal of Schools, Bath, Pa. 
It is one of Lowell’s last letters. Kipling calls it “delightful” and 
Van Dyke considers it one of the most charming bits of his correspond- 
ence. — Asa K. Me Ilhaney. 
