AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
183 
are enough to suggest important lessons to 
farmers and fruit-growers. And among these les¬ 
sons, we may mention the following: Indian 
corn may be expected to suffer more from frost in 
low valleys than on hill-sides. Fruit-buds, espe¬ 
cially of such tender trees as peaches, nectarines, 
and apricots, and delicate shrubs and flowering 
plants, native and foreign, will suffer less from 
frosts on the hills than in the valleys. The in¬ 
tense heats of low lands in Summer, and their 
richer soil, tend also to make a more succulent 
growth in trees so situated, and thus expose them 
to greater injury than those planted on the hill¬ 
sides. Let farmers and others living on the hills, 
who sometimes complain of the loneliness and in¬ 
accessibility of their homes, take comfort in the 
foregoing. Let all planters study local climates, 
and act accordingly. Surely they will reap a 
benefit 
-— mini ffl n ■ —e—“ 
Trees on Made Ground- 
To the Editor of the American Agriculturist: 
Some four years ago I built my house in the 
woods. While walling the cellar the workmen 
ate peaches and scattered the pits about, where 
a portion of them sprang up and are now growing. 
The next Spring I cleared some ground and set 
out 25 peach trees of two years’ growth. I dug 
wide deep holes and put in plenty of manure with 
rich soil from old decayed stumps. Now one seed¬ 
ling which sprang up near the corner of the house 
where I filled in some two feet with earth from 
the bottom of the cellar, is more than twice as 
large and far more thrifty, with no attention save 
pruning, than either of the 25 trees which are two 
years older. 
I also set out six cherry trees three years ago, 
which were then about the size of a man’s thumb. 
They are in my yard and are growing finely. The 
soil has never been stirred among them, with the 
exception of one tree which was set on a spot 
where I had carted in feet in depth of earth 
from the bottom of my well, 16 feet in depth. 
The soil is a hard, stiff blue clay, mixed with grav¬ 
el. This tree has grown to exceed belief, being 
now more than a foot in diameter. Now what is 
it that makes so much difference in the growth of 
these trees in favor of the hard soil 1 J. B. 
Newlurg, Clinton Co., O. 
REMARKS. 
We think the success of these trees is not 
due to the hard unproductive soil of the bottom 
of a cellar or well, as our correspondent supposes, 
but to the fact of their being upon trenched ground, 
with the good rich surface soil underneath for the 
roots to penetrate as soon as they should reach it. 
The filled in earth would be in a loose state for 
the roots to run among, and the soil although ap¬ 
parently poor, had not parted with as much of 
the “tree growing materials” as that near the 
surface which had long grown wood. The peach 
tree probably grew faster for being a natural fruit. 
Grafting a tree tends to check its growth and 
throw it into bearing. 
--» < - -- «■- 
The Usual Result. —An Irishman in the wit¬ 
ness box, was asked what they had at the first place 
they stopped! “Four glasses of ale.” “What 
next?” “Two glasses of whiskey.” “What 
next?” “ One glass of brandy.” “Whatnext!” 
“A fight.” 
Dentistry Free. —A down-east editor advises 
his readers, if they wish to get teeth inserted 
gratis, to go and steal fruit where his watch-dog 
is on guard. 
The Buttonwood Tree. 
We do not rank the buttonwood or plane-tree 
(sometimes, but erroneously, called sycamore) 
among our best trees. It is, however, interest¬ 
ing, from the large size of its leaves, the peculiar 
white color of its bark, the numerous russet 
seed-balls, many of which hang from its twigs 
throughout the year, the rapidity of its growth, 
and the immense size to which it attains. It is, 
we believe, the largest tree of the Northern 
States, and second only to the Sequoia gigantea of 
California. We- have read of a specimen, near 
Marietta, Ohio, which, at four feet from the 
ground, measures 47 feet in circumference. Mr. 
Downing mentions one cut down on the banks of 
the Genesee river, “ of such enormous size, that 
a section of the trunk was hollowed out and fur¬ 
nished as a small room, capable of containing 
fourteen persons.” 
It shows its greatest beauty when growing on 
the rich alluvial bottoms along our creeks and 
rivers. There, it often towers up 70 feet, and 
throws abroad a magnificent canopy of branches, 
surpassing nearly every other tree of the forest. 
Its peculiar habit of shedding its bark at intervals 
throughout the year, adds to its picturesqueness, 
perhaps, but not to its real excellence as a shade 
tree. This habit is ascribed by botanists to the 
rigidity of the outer bark, its lack of expansive 
power corresponding with the rapid growth of 
the tree from within. The bark bursts instead 
of stretching, and falls to the ground. Bryant al¬ 
ludes to this feature of the tree, in his address to 
Green River : 
“ Clear are the depths where its eddies play. 
And dimples deepen, and whirl away ; 
And the plane-trees’ speckled arms o’ershoot 
The swifter current that mines its root. 
Educated minds love to associate this tree 
with its first cousin, the oriental plane, so highly 
esteemed by the ancients. The Academic groves 
and the neighborhood of all the Grecian schools, 
were planted with this last-named tree. It is 
linked with the names of Socrates and Plato, 
who discoursed of philosophy beneath its shade. 
There is but a trifling difference between the na¬ 
tive and the foreign tree. The foliage of the 
American is the largest. “ The oriental plane,” 
says a writer, “ has the leaves lobed like our na¬ 
tive kind, but the segments are much more deeply 
cut ; the foot-stalks of its leaves are green, while 
those of the American are of a reddish hue, and 
the fruit or ball is much smaller and rougher on 
the outer surface, when fully grown.” We ob¬ 
serve that both varieties are advertised in the 
catalogues of some of our nurserymen. 
We do not know whether there are any serious 
practical difficulties in the way of growing the for¬ 
eign variety. It is to be regretted that the na¬ 
tive tree is occasionally visited with a blight which 
mars its beauty, and sometimes kills the tree out¬ 
right. The young shoots are sometimes nipped 
by late frosts in Spring, and when the tree recov¬ 
ers and puts out new shoots, they are often quite 
feeble, and do not become ripe enough in Autumn, 
to withstand the frosts of Winter. If it sprouts 
the succeeding Spring, it is, perhaps, to go through 
the same ordeal, and with less vigor to pass it 
safely. It is thought, by some, that this blight is 
not caused by frost, but is a disease or epidemic 
peculiar to this class of trees. They point, in 
proof, to certain brown blotches in the bark, 
where the sap has ceased to circulate. But may 
not these spots be the effect, and not the cause 
of the trouble ? Strange indeed it is, that a native 
tree, and otherwise hardy and vigorous in growth, 
should be so smitten, while others around go un¬ 
scathed ! We observe that the same malady af. 
fects this tree in England. British writers speak 
of it as “in reality of a more delicate constitu¬ 
tion, and less able to bear the vicissitudes of the 
climate than the oriental plane.” 
Whatever may have been the cause of the dis¬ 
ease. we are glad to learn, that in many parts 
of the country, it is passing away, and the tree 
bids fair to become again healthy and vigorous. 
• - ■»-« - -«*«>*=— --- 
The Paulownia. — Imperiaiis. 
We are not going to repeat any of the high 
sounding terms which were applied to this tree 
on its first introduction. The furor it excited, 
several years ago, in France and England, seems 
now almost incredible. It is too tender a tree 
for successful culture in the Northern States. 
North of Albany, it is generally cut down by the 
Winter ; South of New-York city, it attains con¬ 
siderable size. 
It is a native of Japan, and grows as rapidly as 
the Ailantus, whose wood it somewhat resem¬ 
bles. In its native country, it attains forty and 
fifty feet in hight. Its leaves are often two feet 
in diameter, slightly rough and hairy, and serrated 
on the edges. They are heart-shaped, resembling 
somewhat those of the Catalpa, but are perhaps 
more like those of the sunflower. It produces 
clusters of bluish lilac flowers, of a tubular- 
shape, appearing in April and May, and having 
a slight perfume. 
Our Southern readers can grow this tree easily 
and will need no urging from us to introduce it 
into their ornamental grounds. But there is an 
important use to which it may be applied, even in 
the Northern States, and it is this which leads us 
now to speak of the tree. This use is as an orna¬ 
ment to well-kept grounds. Let it be planted on 
the outskirts of a lawn, and it will give a peculiar 
air, at once, to the place. It will, perhaps, die to 
the ground every Winter, like herbaceous plants, 
but it will shoot up, every Summer, several shafts, 
six or eight feet high, with broad, palm-like leaves, 
giving quite a tropical look to the grounds about 
it. It adds something of the same aspect to a 
lawn which large specimens of "hot-house plants 
do, when wheeled out in Summer into the open 
air; but with this advantage over them, that the 
Paulownia springs from the earth, while the house 
plants are confined in ugly tubs and boxes. Will 
amateur gardeners make a note of this 1 When 
they have tried it, as we have, they will thank us 
for the suggestion. 
■ ---- - «*■-- 
Nobody. —The tallest trees are most fiercely 
assailed bv the winds. The more shining mark is 
oftenest hit bv the arrow. The best man is the 
greatest object of hate by Satan and his emissa¬ 
ries. One should fear when only the evil speak 
well of him. Some writer, we know not whom, 
has versified a similar sentiment as follows : 
If nobody’s noticed you, you must be small, 
If nobody’s slighted you, you must.be tall; 
If nobody’s bowed to you, you must be low, 
If nobody’s kissed vou, you’re ugly we know; 
If nobody’s envied you, you’re a poor elf. 
If nobody’s flattered you, flatter yourself; 
If nobody’s cheated you, you are a knave, 
If nobody’s hated you, you are a slave; 
If nobody’s called you a ‘ fool ’ to your face. 
Somebody’s wished for your back in it’s place; 
If nobody’s called you a ‘ tyrant ’ or 4 scold,’ 
Somebody thinks you of spiritless mold; 
If nobody knows of your faults but a friend, 
Nobody’ll miss of them at the world’s end ; 
If nobody clings to your purse like a fawn, 
Nobody’ll run like a hound when it’s gone. 
If nobody’s eaten his bread from your store. 
Nobody’ll call you a 4 miserly bore;' 
If nobody’s slandered you—here is our pen— 
Sign yourself Nobody, quick &6 you can. 
