242 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[August, 
American Forest Trees. 
A little examination will serve to surprise One 
at the richness of our North American Sylva. 
We would by no means disparage trans-Atlan¬ 
tic good things; but w 7 hen our own vast conti¬ 
nent furnishes us so many specie^ and varieties 
of trees, and some of them the grandest in the 
world, let us not overlook them in the search 
for foreign novelties. 
It will surprise those who have not looked in¬ 
to this matter, to find that many rare trees, with 
strange-sounding names, are natives of our own 
land. Among conifers, take the following : Pi¬ 
rns ftexilis, P. ponderosa, P. monticola, P. Sabinima, 
P. Lambertiana, P. insignis , etc., are natives of 
Oregon and northern California. Thuja gigantea 
comes from the Rocky Mountains; Junipwus oc¬ 
cidentalism from Utah; Abies Menziesii , from Sit¬ 
ka, lat. 57° ; Cupressus Nootkaensis, from the re¬ 
gion about Nootka Sound; Abies JDouglasii, A. 
nobilis, and A. amabilis , from Oregon, between 
lat. 42° and 50°; Abies bracieata , and A. William- 
sonii lie a little further south than the foregoing. 
Near the sea, and in lat. 41°, we find Cupressus 
Lawsoniana , and Sequoia scmpervirens , (California 
Red Wood,) and on the mountains of the same 
latitude the Sequoia gigantea, the famous Big 
Tree, called also Wellingtonia and Washingtonia. 
■ These will serve as specimens taken from a 
single department; and there are many more, 
hardly less remarkable. Now, it gives one the 
sense of a new possession, and a feeling of pat-' 
riotic pride, to find that such trees are American. 
Another interesting discovery is, that some of 
these trees, though of northern origin—some of 
them even found along the snowy ridges of Ore¬ 
gon—are yet somewhat tender When transplant¬ 
ed into the same, or a lower, parallel of latitude 
at the East. Taking our illustrations again from 
among evergreens, here is Thuja gigantea, from 
the Rocky Mountains, in lat. 53°, but when set 
out in the neighborhood of this city, in lat. 40°; 
or 41°,■ it is represented as “not quite hardy.” 
Abies Menziesii, found at Sitka, lat. 57°, is cut up 
by the winters of lat. 43° at the East; Abies 
JDouglasii grows wild on Vancouver’s Island, lat. 
50°, yet it can not be relied on here, in lat. 43°. 
Yet, again, strange to say, Pinus ponderosa, found 
in the interior of Oregon, north of lat. 50°, is as 
hardy all over our North-Eastern States as the 
native hemlock. The same may be said of 
Tliuiopsis borealis, found wild north of lat. 50°. 
Pinus Lambertiana, found between 43° and 43°' 
bids fair to succeed in the same latitude at the 
East. Cupressus Lawsoniana, found lower down, 
and near the Pacific coast, is trying hard to be 
hardy in the same latitude on the Atlantic. 
Here we have a few instances, out of many, 
of a general fact, that the hardiness of a tree or 
plant can not be positively determined by the 
latitude or longitude in which it is found indi¬ 
genous. Many circumstances go to determine 
its hardiness. It is affected much by its geologi¬ 
cal position, not a, little, also, by its altitude 
above the level of the sea, by the prevalence of 
certain winds, by the amount of moisture in 
the atmosphere, by the protection of surround¬ 
ing hills and forests, and other unknown and 
imperceptible causes. If, then, we wish to as¬ 
certain whether a certain, untried tree is hardy 
or not, we may form some conjecture from the 
latitude in which it is found, but can arrive at 
certainty only by a fair experiment. 
This, too, should be borne in mind by every 
planter. In transporting a tree from one part of 
the country to another, he will be very likely to 
fail unless he surrounds the tree with nearly the 
same conditions of soil, exposure, etc., as it had 
in its original habitat. Take this familiar ex¬ 
ample: the Kalmia latifolia, and Rhododendron 
maximum, and American Holly, all grow wild 
north of 43° in New-Eugland; but if we re¬ 
move them south of that line into New-York, 
and yet give them unsuitable soil and aspect, 
they will dwindle away and perish. Unthink¬ 
ing persons will suppose they are “ too tender 
for the climate,” w r hen in reality they are hardy 
enough, but are mismanaged. 
In the foregoing paragraphs, we have only 
touched on a few points of interest in-this sub¬ 
ject, and must leave them for our readers to fol¬ 
low out at their leisure. At another time we 
shall return to the inviting theme. 
A Hint to Tree Fanciers. 
In our random experiments, last Spring, we 
met with a result which both surprised and 
gratified us. A Scotch larch, which had been 
planted in a certain spot, several years before, 
had become too large for the place it occupied, 
and must either be removed or cut down. 
What was to be done ? A council was called, and 
soon a compromise was agreed on, for at least 
one year. The plan was to let it stand, but to 
head it in several feet at the top, and to shorten 
in the side branches full half their length. Her¬ 
etical treatment, surely, but we gave it, and 
then waited results. 
The tree being in a distant and secluded part 
of our grounds, we did not notice it particular¬ 
ly until about the first of June, when its appear¬ 
ance surprised us. The foliage had come out 
with unusual strength, and clothed the tree in a 
mass of heavy, rich verdure from top to bottom. 
We had trimmed it into a tapering or conical 
shape, like the Juniper, or Lombardy Poplar, 
and now it was a beautiful, thickly tufted shaft 
of the most vivid green, altogether unlike the 
tree as commonly seen. The leaves were fully 
double their usual size, being nearly as long as 
those of the Austrian pine, and of the same col¬ 
or, only glossier and brighter. Not an inch of 
trunk or limb could be seen amid the mass of 
leaves. At a little distance it resembled a fine 
specimen of the Austrian pine, pruned into the 
Juniper form. It is now one of the most remark¬ 
able sights in our grounds, and we congratulate 
ourselves on the discovery. * 
Where to Feed Trees. 
It is no uncommon thing to see a little circle 
dug around large fruit and ornamental trees, and 
a heap of manure applied. Perhaps this boys’ 
play does no hurt, but what good does it do? 
We might fancy the old tree looking down upon 
the workman with a sort of disgust and indigna¬ 
tion, and saying : “ What are you about, Sir ? 
Are you thinking to benefit me by scratching 
around my bole ? No, no, Sir: my roots are 
out yonder, many feet away; my thousand 
mouths are far off, open and waiting for the food 
which they can not get so long as you confine 
it to my senseless trunk.” 
Any person can see a good illustration of our 
point, if he examines the grass under an oak or 
ash, or other gross-feeding tree. If the soil is 
rather poor, he will find the grass brown afeid 
dried in mid-summer; and the dryness will be 
greatest at the ends of the roots. This circle 
Avill enlarge every year, the roots exhausting 
the nutriment of the ground as they extend. 
Now, obviously, the way to treat such trees, 
and all others that we wish to thrive, is to ma¬ 
nure and till the ground all over the surface of 
their roots, but jnore especially at the extremi¬ 
ties, for it is there that they take in the most of 
their 'food. This is the very best way, but the 
next.best is to, manure the entire surface of the 
grass above the roots once a year; the nutriment 
will anueh of it find its way down to the roots. 
Potatoes Mixing in the Hill. 
Some errors have more lives than a cat. Kili 
them thrice dead, and bury them, yet they will 
not stay dead. The above notion is one of these 
instances of persistent resurrection. We shall 
not stop now to do anything more than hit the 
thing a rap, and then pass it by. 
It would seem plain to every mind that no 
plant can “mix” through its branches and 
roots. Set the elm-tree in the same hole with a 
beech, and let their roots and branches grow 7 
and twine together for a century, and will there 
be any mixing of the two? Or let a red elm and 
a white elm grow side by side, or a red and 
white beech, and will either, in process of time, 
become streaked ? Who has not seen the red 
and white peony growing side by side for many 
years without any mixing \ And the same may 
be said of any plant which is propagated by di¬ 
visions of the roots or tubers. Now, the potato 
is a tuber, like the peony. As we plant it, it is 
not the seed, but the tuber. And it will no more 
mix through this root than the peony through 
its. The only possible way of mixing this or 
any other plant is through the flower and seed. 
When different varieties of a plant, (say the 
peony, potato, or what you will,) grow side by 
side, and blossom at the same time, the pollen 
of one flower is often blown, or carried by bees, 
to other flowers, and thus produces a cross fer¬ 
tilization. The stigma of one blossom is im¬ 
pregnated by the pollen of another blossom; 
then the seed is matured and ripens. Now plant 
this seed (not the root, remember, for that has not 
been affected at all,) plant the seed, and we shall 
be likely to get a new plant having a mixture 
of the two varieties. Thus, if we sow the seed- 
balls of our potatoes, we shall doubtless get a 
mixture of varieties, but we may plant pieces 
of their roots to all eternity, and there will be 
no mixture. Indeed these roots are not real 
roots, but only enlargements of the branches. 
But some persons reply: we don’t care a fig 
for science; for we have facts to prove that po¬ 
tatoes do mix in the hill. And here, a cotempo¬ 
rary well observes: “No theory, however ab¬ 
surd, can be started, but some are ready to fur¬ 
nish proof of its correctness from actual obser¬ 
vation. Had the Messiah presented the question 
to the people of this day, which he did to the 
Jews some 1800 years ago,—‘Do men gather 
grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles ?’—some 
would be ready to reply in the affirmative, and 
declare that they had seen it done.” So now, 
men have facts ready to prove that wheat 
changes to chess; the influence of the moon’s 
rays on vegetation and pork; and that potatoes 
mix in the hill. 
Let, however, a few other facts be noted, 
which throw some light on our subject. A par¬ 
ti-colored potato, if planted for a few years in a 
sandy soil, becomes lighter, and darker if grown 
in a heavy, clay soil. Plant only the light col¬ 
ored parts of the mercer, and the crop will be 
chiefly white. Plant several sorts of potatoes 
in the same field for several years in succession, 
and the finer varieties will be found mingled 
among the coarser, because the latter always 
