114 
PARK AND CE-METERY 
by eliminating such features as dilapidated old fences, 
and since a barrier of some sort is frequently a neces- 
sary evil, (as is undoubtedly true in this instance), then 
the fine feeling that suggests a memorial should inter- 
est itself to secure something in keeping with the spirit 
of the work. 
In such examples as the spring, this might well 
take the shape of a series of shrubbery plantations to 
form an irregular and effective setting for the stone 
work as well as an effectual protection from animals, 
— even barring out the Kentucky “razor back,” against 
which the unsightly fence is probably designed. It 
may be necessary to use thorny plants, but they are 
numerous, attractive and sufficiently varied to meet all 
conditions. These trouldesome and distinctly unbeau- 
tiful animals could probably be held at bay by closely 
set plantations of honey locust, osage orange, buck- 
thorn and Thunberg’s barberry. No one could criti- 
cise the aesthetic results of such plantations. 
Where a shrubbery border is out of the question, 
fence covered with vines may be resorted to with good 
effect. In the case of this spring, imagine the value of 
moisture-loving vines, such as clematis paniculata, big- 
nonia grandiflora, etc., set along the fence, on the 
higher ground, and trained to cover it entirely! 
Would it be an improvement ? And the effect would 
be still better if shrubs were used in connection with 
the vines on the dryer ground, to give variety, and the 
vines alone carried in garlands across the parts of the 
fence which cross the water. Then we should have a 
memorial fine in idea, satisfactory in execution and in 
an appropriate setting. — a polished gem in an espe- 
ciallv wrought frame. Frances Copley Seavey. 
s 
SOME NEGLECTED TREES AND SHRUBS, 
Read at the Convention of the American Park and Outdoor Art Asso- 
ciation, Milwaukee, 1901, by Prof. Thomas H. MacBride, Iowa City. 
The purpose of this paper is simply to call atten- 
tion to the one or two facts or factors which must en- 
ter into every successful solution of the planting prob- 
lem as it comes up to-day in the prairie states. The 
first factor has to do with the choice of materials for 
decorative planting. That this is a most important 
question, every landscape architect will at once admit. 
Aly position has been that the woody flora of any par- 
ticular region is and must ever be the one criterion in 
the determination of our choice of material. Now this 
is an apparently simple dictum, but its application is 
by no means so simple, nor does it at all meet ready 
or universal acceptance. The vegetable world presents 
certain laws of distribution which are very real ; we 
may by careful selection somewhat modify them, but 
we must heed them if our planting is to be generally 
efficient. If we are to havd an outdoor art of perma- 
nence and supremest satisfaction in our western 
states we must follow carefully the suggestion of ex- 
isting conditions. Nature has through thousands of 
years been working out our problem, and much as we 
may prefer or like to reject her counsels, we shall do 
so at our peril. The old world is in this particular our 
example. 
The most commendable feature of the English sys- 
tem of decorative or landscape gardening is the fact 
that it has found out how to use local conditions and 
indigenous flora for the production of most charming 
efifects. No one needs do more than to walk through 
a London park, or even speed by train across an En- 
glish county to see that efifects unsurpassed in the 
world are secured by use of very simple means. Na- 
tive vines cover rocks, walls or ruins ; native flowers 
make glorious the hedges ; native oaks are marshalled 
on the green sward of the park, and native elmc and 
maples border the winding streams. Furthermore, 
English decorative gardening is distinguished by con- 
formity to local conditions. No effort is made to imi- 
tate, for instance, a Roman villa or a Persian para- 
dise ; rather the genius of the country is expressed 
and there is a constant appreciation of Nature’s benefi- 
cent assistance and suggestion. 
That in the matter of domestic or rural beauty by 
such simple means, new residents of the Mississippi 
valley are making progress is a matter of highest en- 
couragement. If to render beautiful our estates and 
grounds, nothing but tropical plants and trees, costly 
architecture, marbles and fountains, as of Italy, would 
suffice, then surely it would be long before the homes 
of Iowa would take on an outer adornment at all com- 
mensurate with the taste and refinement which really 
belongs to so many Iowa householders. But when we 
consider that all we need is a proper use of the oppor- 
tunities and materials which by nature are at our serv- 
ice, it would seem that a beginning at least of what 
may be called the esthetic treatment of our prairie 
country need not longer be deferred. 
It is possible that in some quarters the opinion yet 
obtains that prairie regions offer small promise of 
possible landscape treatment. Prairies are by nature 
treeless, and there are those that fancy that they must 
ever remain so. But as already stated, such is by no 
means the case. In fact, there is no prairie landscape 
any more. Groves have broken up every horizon. 
Beauty on a magnificent scale we have, but it is no 
longer the primitive beauty of the prairie meadows. 
That is gone ; it is gone forever. The beauty that we 
now behold is that of the chequered fields, of the ripen- 
ing corn. What we need is that variety and elegance 
which comes only through perfection of detail, in the 
result of effort guided by education and taste. Nay, 
more; the omnipresent groves bespeak an effort. We 
need only that this effort be rightly guided and all 
most desirable results will be secured. Nay, we have 
along these very lines, have along all the streams and 
on many hilltops, native groves, requiring for right 
effect no more than proper management. Some of the 
most lovely homes in Iowa are shaded by primeval 
oaks and hickories. Such was the peculiar method in 
which the prairie forests were produced, a history I 
may not at this time stay to trace, that the old white 
oaks present by nature the most artistic and park-like 
groupings. The earlier pioneer frequenly found a 
x^hite oak opening suitable for his home, or pitched his 
humble cabin beneath some glorious walnut. Such 
nee.ded no landscape gardener. They inherited a part 
of nature’s glory. Even one who comes later on the 
scene, but who is yet so fortunate as to use for his 
abiding place a knoll of “second growth,” can by 
judicious thinning attain, or at least prepare for the 
