3 6 
PARK AND CEMETERY. 
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PARK NOTES. 
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Under the contract which the commissioners of the Minne- 
apolis parks have for caring and maintaining trees in certain 
streets and avenues in the city for three years, there were main- 
tained last year trees to the number of 4429. A number had to 
be replaced, amounting to 1 13 and 124 new trees were planted. 
President McKinley on March 18th, planted an oak tree in 
the white house grounds, re-establishing a custom begun a good 
many years ago, but broken by President Cleveland. The presi- 
dent shoveled the dirt into the hole after placing the sapling. 
There was no ceremony, although the incident was witnessed 
by a number of persons. 
* * * 
There is a proposition before the Massachusetts legislature 
to create a commission to acquire some 10,000 acres of land in- 
cluding the famous old Greylock Mountain, the pride of Berk- 
shire, for a public park reservation, at a price of $25,000. As the 
New England Florist says: “Greylock is the great mountain of 
Massachusetts. It dominates that beautiful section in the west- 
ern part of the state which has received the title of the Switzer- 
land of Massachusetts. It is to-day a favorite resort, and in the 
near future, as our population increases, it will hold a first place 
among the natural attractions for popular enjoyment. To take 
it now, when it can be acquired for the benefit of all the people, 
will be an act for the enrichment of posterity.” 
* * * 
Minnehaha Park, Minneapolis, Minn., contains a unique 
relic in the shape of the first dwelling house built on the site of 
the city of Minneapolis, west of the Mississippi. It was erected 
by Col. John H. Stevens in 1849. Under the roof of this house 
the first town and county governments and the first school dis- 
trict were organized. The first child was born and the first wed- 
ding was celebrated under its roof. And in it was first proposed 
the name of Minneapolis for the city. It was removed to the 
park on the 28th of May 1896, by the public school children, in 
detachments, who hauled it to its destination. The building 
has been restored as far as possible to its original form and con- 
dition. 
* * * 
In a pamphlet on ornamental planting for cemeteries writ- 
ten by Mr. Edw. L. Raymond, landscape architect, of Boston, 
speaking of the establishment of nurseries, he gives the following 
reasons, which are equally good for park systems, large or small: 
1. Cheapness. Buy small plants at wholesale rates from abroad 
or from our large nurseries, plant in rows and grow them. 2. 
Safest. You can lift a plant with dirt on the roots, put it on a 
hand-barrow thus eliminating jar, and plant the same. The 
plant suffers no shock and can be moved by skillful treatment 
long after the shipping season is past. 3. The planter looks 
over his stock and makes this and that combination in his mind 
seeing the present relative merits of associating this plant and 
that. 
* * * 
In the course of a reply to the criticisms passed upon his 
system of improvement in the wooded parks, Mr. J. A. Petti- 
grew, superintendent of parks, Boston, says: “Hastily consid- 
ered criticism of the landscape gardener’s effort to improve the 
condition of growing timber by thinning out crowding trees is 
probably largely to blame for the deplorable condition of the 
trees in most of our parks throughout the country. Central Park, 
New York, contains scarcely one fine specimen of a tree, even in 
grounds set apart for ornamental work; its woodlands, are forests 
of bare poles. Prospect Park, Brooklyn, still contains hundreds 
of nurse trees, planted for shelter to the intended permanent 
trees, which they have smothered and malformed, instead of 
protecting, because they were not cut out when their intended 
work was accomplished. Much of the planting will have to be 
commenced over again, the ruin being irretrievable, and all be- 
cause of the mistaken sentiment against the cutting of a tree.” 
* * * 
English naturalists propose to honor the gentle memory of 
Gilbert White, author of “The Natural History of Selborne” in 
a unique way. Near the little village of Selborne, which White 
has immortalized in his charming book, lies the forest of Wool- 
mer, in ancient times a royal hunting preserve, and still crown 
property. It has been practically decided that the nation shall 
assume direct control of this copseclad tract and turn it into what 
may be styled an asylum for the wild beasts, birds, and insects of 
England. The British Ornithological society has the work in 
hand and it is stated that the government looks favorably upon 
the proposed “White Forest of Woolmer,” as the beautiful me- 
morial is to be called. The forest is to be surrounded by a ser- 
ies of defenses sufficient to keep out all unwelcome intruders. 
At the main entrance will stand a statue of Gilbert White, his 
hands raised and in the act of liberating an imprisoned bird. 
Pains will be taken to stock Woolmer with every known species 
of bird still existing in England; and, so far as possible, to make 
their new habitation agreeable. Such wild animals as have sur- 
vived will also be represented. The streams flowing through the 
tract are too small for any fish other than trout and such small 
varieties, but these will be fostered. Quantities of butterflies, 
dragonflies, and whole colonies of bees can easily be liberated 
within the walls, and once within are likely to remain and fill the 
shady glens and sunny glades with murmuring insect life. Were 
kindly Gilbert White alive no one would delight more than he 
in the proposal to make Woolmer a home for the fowl and the 
brute, within whose confines the reckless destroyer, man, cannot 
hunt and kill. 
* * * 
Childhood and youth have suffered most from the over- 
crowding in cities, and it may be that in the future great city 
there will be no place for children; at any rate the present atti- 
tude of the city toward the child betrays that tendency, treating 
him as an insufferable nuisance. There is no room for the child 
in the tenements and not much more in more comfortable homes. 
When he escapes to or is thrown upon the street he must be- 
come a law-breaker from indulging a natural inclination for move- 
ment, exercise, noise and fun. When he acquires sufficient agil- 
ity to escape the perils of ordinary street traffic, he is still not 
free from the dangers of constant pursuit by the police. He is 
not allowed to “walk upon the grass” because this would destroy 
the only “municipal art” which the municipality prides itself in 
possessing, which is encouraging and as it should be in the right 
place, but there are some places in which it is all wrong. He is 
always chased, sometimes clubbed and occasionally shot at. 
Other people’s children are a constant source of annoyance and 
complaint of every housekeeper. If the future should disclose a 
celebrity born and reared in New York in the present decade, 
it will probably be as a fine example of an enemy of organized 
society with a grievance against the human race. In spite of all 
this, the “hop-toads” dance very gracefully in the gutters and 
the pavement has recently been changed from Belgian blocks to 
asphalt; and the ardor and enthusiasm of the American small 
boy, displayed in baseball and football, played upon rough gran- 
ite for his greensward, is a joy forever and still quite human. Ad- 
vanced civilization has quite unconsciously deprived the child of 
his play. Its restoration by providing the opportunity and the 
place is not particularly an act of charity or a bestowal of merci- 
ful privilege, it is but an act of simple justice. — From “The City’s 
Plan” by Julius F. Harder in March Municipal Affairs , 
