PARK AND CEMETERY. 
259 
IN THE HEART OF THE WISSAHICKON VALLEY WITH ITS TURBULENT MOUN- 
TAIN STREAM. 
fested hickories and old dying trees, the 
disposal of the wood has been important. 
Straight chestnut poles are readily dis- 
posed of on the stump at a small profit. 
The other trees to be removed are felled 
by our corps and worked up into lumber 
or cordwood. We have established a lum- 
ber yard near our shops, where the run 
of the portable mill is hauled, graded and 
stacked for seasoning. Though our cut 
last year was over a quarter million of 
board feet, we shall use it all ourselves, as 
we have a steady demand for lumber, 
owing to the large number of historic 
mansions, museums, greenhouses and other 
buildings in our park system. The cord- 
wood is given to the poor for the hauling, 
either directly by permit on request or 
through the medium of various missions 
who maintain cordwood and kindling 
yards. Its marketable value with us is 
slight, and I believe no use can be made 
of it more in harmony with the park idea. 
The cleared areas are replanted as rap- 
idly as possible with young trees placed in 
every opening. Red, black and scarlet 
oaks, tulips, white and green ash, sugar 
maple and white pine are the most com- 
monly used upland trees, with hemlock, 
pin oak, cucumber and sweet gum for 
more sheltered spots. 
Where excessive dryness is the clearly 
indicated trouble, as in the case of high 
open woods on dry plateaus, marked im- 
provement of the remaining trees has re- 
sulted by bringing the forest roof down 
to the ground at the edges of the wood- 
land by a fringe of shrubbery and low 
trees. The drying winds are thus cut off, 
and the diagonal rays of morning and 
evening sunlight are prevented from reach- 
ing and drying out the forest floor, which 
is often sufficiently protected from the ver- 
tical rays, even in a failing woodland. The 
artistic effect of such planting is also very 
satisfying, the forest meeting the turf in a 
great billow of luxuriant foliage with an 
infinite variety of leaf form and flower, 
thrown against the noblest of backgrounds. 
Our native shrubbery, such as Rhus coppa- 
lina, the Viburnums, Sambucus, Cornus and 
the like are admirably suited for this work. 
A second or lower tier of foliage in the 
woodland itself is natural to our hardwood 
forests, and where practical we try to re- 
store it by planting such shade-enduring, 
slow-growing trees as the beech, dogwood, 
hornbeam, cercis, moosewood and hemlock. 
These smaller woodlands are often too 
valuable for picnicers for us to extend 
such dense plantings far into the heart of 
the wood, and where the ground is reason- 
ably level this is unnecessary. 
To prevent the invasion of inferior spe- 
cies is a constant struggle, as the seeds of 
alianthus, catalpa, fire-cherry and poplar 
seem ubiquitous. The ability of some un- 
desirable trees to reach and fill every for- 
est opening is amazing. Robert Douglass, 
I remember, reported that to his certain 
knowledge the cones of a scrub pine had 
hung closed for fifteen years until the heat 
of a forest fire opened them and released 
the seeds to take possession of the burnt- 
over area. 
On- steep, exposed hillsides a more vig- 
orous policy has proved necessary to secure 
results. As the growth begins to fail on 
these slopes, which are particularly difficult 
to keep well forested, the ground becomes 
rapidly exposed to sun and winds, as the 
falling leaves are blown away before they 
decay, thus robbing the soil of both mulch 
and fertilizer, and exposing the bare earth 
to the action of driving rains and passing 
feet. I never realized the full significance 
of this impact of violent rain storms on 
bare grounds until I accidently fell while 
botanizing on the Isthmus of Panama, 
where the rainfalls are extraordinarily 
heavy. Though the soil was fertile alluvi- 
um, free from stones, and contained suf- 
ficient moisture from the last downpour to 
be still of a deep chocolate color, the sur- 
face had become so hard I felt as though 
I had fallen on a ledge of rock. Kept well 
covered with thrifty trees, undergrowth and 
spongy leaf mould, steep hillsides give lit- 
tle trouble, but once let the cover grow 
thin (incessant attention alone will prevent 
it in our soot-laden atmosphere) and an 
accumulating series of disasters is ahead. 
Against windfalls which so frequently un- 
cover these slopes, the prompt removal of 
LUMBERING IN FAILING WOODLAND, PREPARATORY TO REPLANTING. 
