MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
Jiutostipal Sfopujs. 
RUSAL CLUB SPEECHES. 
AMERICANS SHOULD STUDY AMERICAN TREES. 
William Cullen Bryant’s speech at the 
recent mooting of the Rural Club, contained 
the following paragraph Weare gathering 
the people of the United States in the great 
cities, the population of which is going to he 
Immense, and by-aml-by we shall have a race 
of people, who will know probably in our 
large towns very little about country pur¬ 
suits or country life—a generation of cock¬ 
neys. A very brilliant, American writer was 
reviewed in an English periodical, and I saw 
that the reviewer had given advice to per¬ 
sons coming over to England from America 
to study the nature of trees in order that 
they might give intelligent, answers, and 
stating that he was once inquired of in re¬ 
gard to them, and hod to confess that he 
kne w very little about,tl icm. He was brought 
up in Boston [laughter], and so it is ; men 
brought up iu America, the region of forest, 
do not know enough about the trees of their 
own count,ry to tell about them when they 
go to England. Cowper says somewhere, 
‘T3od made the country, man made the 
town.” Which of these is the greater work¬ 
man, the more accomplished artist ? A club 
like this, an association of the nature of this, 
is of value to beep men in rniud of country 
pursuits, country life and country interests ; 
to make them familiar with that glorious 
creation which lies just out of our pavements 
and encircles our cities. 
“THE FARMER OF WESTCHESTER SPEAKS. 
Henry Ward Beecher was appropriately 
and happilly introduced by President Par¬ 
sons in the following language wliich is 
worthy of record :—“ We have anot her guest 
with us this evening whom T scarcely know 
how to introduce to you. A rose fancier 
would say that he was among men as the 
Gloire de Dijon among roses—a successful I 
climber, eminently robust and hardy, bearing 
well balanced and rounded blooms, and proof 
against the att acks of insects. Although not 
a believer in the Pan of the ancient mytholo¬ 
gy he sees a divinity in trees and plants and 
grass, because he sees in them the Divine 
hand. From his outlook on the bights, with 
the memories of his summer-home still lin¬ 
gering around him, he comes among us to¬ 
night ; and having him thus here we hope he 
will give us some of his pleasant words. I 
have only to name to you the Rev. Henry 
Ward Beecher,” 
£n response Mr. Beecher saidI knew 
that you all understood I was a farmer, but 
speaking not being my vocation, I did not 
know that you would call upon me to speak. 
I expect when I die to have on my tomb¬ 
stone, “The farmer of Westchester County.” 
As such I want it to be remembered I lived 
a life of usefulness. I have a farm of some 
thirty or forty acres, aud I am often asked 
whether my farm pays. 1 always say “ Yes, 
everybody but myself.” It has set, up three 
or four men in business; they have built 
houses off of my farm, and there are several 
more who are just going to build. Yes, al¬ 
though it has not taken care of me, as near 
as I c/m remember 1 have always taken care 
of it. If I have not derived much from it iu 
pocket, I am sure I have derived enough in 
enjoyment to make it a profitable invest¬ 
ment. I look forward to the day when I may 
be released from the contaminations of city 
life and may retire to the frees on my farm 
in the country. I eon say truly that when I 
go among trees 1 am better pleased with rny 
company for the most part than I am when 
among men. I find I never had a tree that , 
lied to me, and although they do a great 
deal of whispering among themselves, I have 1 
never had reason to suppose there was any • 
scandal in it. I find in the communion of 
nature neither peevishness nor trouble-mak- ^ 
ing, but much instruction and much comfort. 
After a man has been in the excitement of ( 
active, life 1 think there is nothing more ‘ 
wholesome than the buth which he gets by 5 
going into the country. 1 think there is no 1 
inheritance, there is no blessing that any- 1 
body can confer upon his children, no money, 1 
no name that can compare with a gift of a * 
taste for natural scenery and njral occupa- c 
tion. This gift of being in the presence of 1 
nature is a greater gift than any fortune 1 
that can be imagined. More than all the 
books of a library, more than paintings, j 
more than the scenes of active life, it seems s 
to me that to the heart that knows nature, 1 
she solicits and haunts each one of the u 
senses ; the reason, the affection, the imagi- c 
nation, the whole body. I am sony to say c 
that this is a gift less often found among a 
those who live in’the country than anywhere 
else. I see a great many persons who talk 
about the country a great deal indeed, but 
they know very little about it, not so much 
with the in ward man as with the outward 
man. But to love it until, soliciting it, it 
I loves you ; until when you go there the 
3 trees lay hare their shrines, and bend and 
j welcome yon, until nature herself perceives 
r you and wants to be the almoner of God’s 
l bounty—that is a pleasure which we cannot 
5 expect everybody to have. The New York 
3 merchant, has got to be worth several liun- 
, dred thousand dollars if he is going into the 
country to live and be a farmer. He buys 
a place, and T look over to see what he does 
5 with it. He has been reading books and 
r taking advice from men, and he begins on it 
. to lay off his ground and build fences, stone 
L I walls, or hedges, and he goes on to drain it 
and square it up and deepen it, and to buy 
manure infinite and transport it without re¬ 
gard to cost to enrich the whole soil, and he 
builds a flue barn and then a fine bouse, and 
at last “slicks up” everything aronnd about 
j him ; and when he has got to that point 
nature lets go of him, and he yawns and be- 
. gins to be restless, for he has nothing more 
to do. The fact is, he has been mechanical, 
and the only tiling in nature is that it gives 
him something to do, and at last he sells the 
place for about one-half what he gave for it, 
and goes back to the city and says, “ You 
tell me about farming. I have tried that; 
1 know w hat that is.” In future time you 
often find that some man who has a genuine 
taste for it, falls into the possession of the 
place, which has been fixed up by the man 
who sold. However, 1 don’t want to say any 
more about this phase of rural matters. 
I want to scold your nurserymen because 
they don’t keep more trees, aud their cus¬ 
tomers because they don’t buy more trees, 
and the public generally because they run 
on two or three trees. A foreigner might 
travel through the country, if he didn’t go 
out of the towns, and think we didn’t have 
more than two or three trees, A rpun will 
say, "Let us put out trees." Then when he 
has put out two or three or four kinds he is 
satisfied. Now, there never was such a coun¬ 
try in which to do decorative work. Sup¬ 
pose we were to select, in some concerted 
way the different shade-trees, so that from 
town to town there should be avenues of all 
I the finest trees; here a three-mile road 
shaded with our flue tulip tree, here an aven 
lie of oaks, spreading their branches from 
village to village, and here an avenue of 
magnolias. If this was to he done we should 
have on every hand an example of the no¬ 
blest architecture that nature indulges in. 
For a tree is the noblest work of nature, 
although some have thought man was [Mr. 
Bryant, interrupting, “inanimate nature”]. 
But the tree is not inanimate. If a tree lias 
not a soul 1 don’t know what has. Take 
that elm at Fishkill Landing. Its history 
has never been written. I have never seen 
any reporters there; no notes have ever 
been taken .about it. 1 do not doubt but 
what you. Sir (addressing Mr. Bryant), have 
had many things told you by the trees—or 
else I have read your earlier poems with 
poor success. 
I think a Rural Club in New York might 
prompt a love of the trees, not by writing 
essays, but by carrying out some plan so as 
) to have us transform our highways into 
shady avenues, according to some plan with 
scientific thought at, the bottom of it. After 
two generations t here would be seen what 
neither we nor our forefathers ever saw. 
Our parks are doing not a little to encourage 
a right feeling in the matter, but such a be¬ 
ginning might come from a club like this. I 
made some such remarks iu the columns of 
The New York Ledger. They were read, 
and I received several letters upon the sub¬ 
ject from persons who were interested. One 
was from a lady, who said she wanted to 
inaugurate such a plan in her village. That 
village is now transformed by the work of 
one woman, and 1 was a short time ago 
asked to inaugurate a fountain iu a public 
square there, brought about by her work, i 
However, I don’t care to make a speech to- 1 
uight, but only to answer to the kind re¬ 
marks of Mr. Faisons, who is himself an 
enthusiast in arboriculture, and who has ( 
done perhaps as much as any other man in 
this country to cultivate and encourage a 
love of trees, I 
GOVERNMENT AND TREES. 
David G, Ckoly said: — Mr. Beecher < 
speaks of the trees in this country. Very j 
little can be done by the action of villages ] 
and societies. The tree question is a national < 
question. We must exercise some control | i 
over this reckless destruction of the trees, I i 
and not allow one to be cut down without ■ 1 
the permission of the authorities. The time 
is coming in this country when the limitation 
of an individual’s right to cut down his owu 
trees will be universally insisted on. We 
want a survey by the Government, and 
places marked out where, trees and forests 
should be grown, and these forests should be 
started at once, and they should not be taken 
away without t he consent of some authority. 
I don’t see how this is to be done, except by 
the nation at large. I don’t see how any¬ 
thing can l»e effected until the whole com¬ 
munity takes it In charge. I flatter myself 
that we are entering into a state when the 
rights of individuals will be greatly modified, 
when the nation is going to do a great deal 
more than it ever lias done. We seeit in the 
West. It simply means that the great cor¬ 
porations must be subordinate to the nation. 
In such a matter the whole country must be 
regarded. It is not an enterprise for societies 
and individuals, but one in which the nation 
itself has a stake, and a large one. 
!iarg of a moralist. 
DAILY RURAL LIFE. 
From the Diary of a Centleman near New 
York City. 
AMONG THE OLD FAVORITE FLOWERS. 
Feb. 28.—The rage for novelties in the last 
few years I fear is making us forget or neg¬ 
lect many of the good old-fashioned plants 
which were once the pride of our gardens. 
For one, I am not inclined to ruthlessly cast 
aside the good old sorts which have done so 
much to create in us a taste for the new and 
novel. First among the good old plants (now 
seldom seen but, worthy of being fondly elier- 
I fished) I would name the Garden or Grass 
Fink, or perhaps better known now as 
“ Hardy carnations.” What great bunches 
of these pinks were wont to bloom in every 
country garden ! no special care being given 
to raise a new stock from cuttings or layers, 
but a few seeds were sown iu spring, and 
during the next the plants were set out along 
j the borders of the garden walks or in large 
clumps, where they bloomed, filling the air 
with a fragrance such t us nono of the new¬ 
fangled bedding or border plants can give. 
This old favorite is well represented in 
Carnation pinks, the seeds of which can be 
obtained of any of our seedsmen. A paper 
of choice mixed seeds saved from the best 
double sorts, will usually give one a pretty 
good start in plants; and if there happens to 
be any ext ra choice variety produced it may 
readily be propagated from cuttings or lay 
ers made of the young branches in summer. 
The improved sorts are not quite as hardy 
as the old single-flowered Grass Pink, but a 
little covering with straw or coarse manure 
in winter will usually insure safety. 
There is another old plant, almost as val¬ 
uable and showy as the pink, wliich appears 
to be almost forgotten, and this is the .Snap¬ 
dragon, or botanieally, Antirrhinum. But 
there lms been a decided improvement in 
this plant during the past few years, and 
while the old form and habit remains to re¬ 
mind us of our green days in gardening, new 
colors have been introduced, and now we can 
find our old Snap-dragon with crimson, white 
and yellow flowers. Then there are other 
sorts in which the&e colors are mixed in all 
the fantastic forms imaginable. Notwith¬ 
standing many of our Florists have banished 
the old Antirrhinums, there are othere who 
hold on to whatever is good regardless of its 
money value, and to these we are indebted 
for the wonderful and superb sorts, the seeds 
of which can be obtained for a few cents per 
paper. As a decorative plant for the border, 
■we have few which will make a better show 
or repay us better for the little care required 
than this old but far too generally-neglected I 
plant,, 
I would also add a word in favor of the 
Canterbury - Bells ( Campanulas ) of various 
species and varieties, not forgetting the 
double Balsams, Sweet Williams andColum- 
be sown with grain : for there is little use of 
expecting crops of any kind to grow without 
the soil is rich. There is much pleasure to 
| lie derived from our “great expectation,” 
| and It Is well that it is so, else the great stim¬ 
ulus to exertion would be wanting. In the 
orchard there is something to be done in the 
way of clearing away any grass or weeds 
I accidentally left around the stems of the 
apple trees last fall; for these only furnish 
hiding places for that pest of the apple orch¬ 
ard, the two-striped apple-borer. The trees 
must also be looked over, all borers dug out, 
twigs examined for the eggs of insects ; but 
it is too late, or not late enough, to do much 
pruning now, as sap will be likely to ooze 
from the wounds and make dark, ugly-look- 
ing patches upon the bark below. If there 
are any trees to be grafted, the cherry must 
be attended to first, because It is only by 
grafting very early that we can expect to be 
successful. If the cions are taken off before 
the buds .swell and kept in moist sand or 
moss and in a cool cellar, the operation may 
be delayed a few days ; but it is a safe rule 
to graft cherry trees just before the buds 
begin to swell in spring, and it is better to be 
a little too early than too late. Apples and 
j pears may be operated upon a little later, 
even after the buds are very near bursting 
into leaf; but delays are dangerous with 
these trees. There are frequently old pear 
trees along the roadside and in other out-of- 
the-way places which bear inferior fruit 
which, by grafting, might be made to pro¬ 
duce luscious Bartlett*, Seek els, or other 
choice sorts. The same may be said in regard 
to the old seedling plums, cherries and ap¬ 
ples found almost everywhere in old settled 
countries. 
Now let me say to my brother farmers, if 
you have tried to go down to the village and 
talk over the miseries of those who are so 
fortunate or unfortunate, as the ease may 
be, to cultivate the earth for a living, forego 
a few afternoons or day' of leisure, and graft 
over the old seedling trees and see if they 
cannot be made to yield a good return for 
j the time spent upon them. 1 know one man 
who used to sell *100 to ?200 worth of pears 
annually from some old trees standing in the 
corner of the fences long neglected by the 
former owners of the farm. I am supposing 
that everybody knows how to graft trees, at 
least everybody who has read the Rural 
New-Yorker for a few years has had a 
chance to learn, for the whole process has 
been explained many times in its columns. 
TREE PLANTING. 
This it is well not to delay any longer than 
to lxave the ground in a suitable condition to 
work easily. All the theories to the contra¬ 
ry, which arc frequently thrust forward in 
the newspapers, do not make, early plant¬ 
ing of all kinds of trees, evergreen as well as 
deciduous, any the less important. A hun¬ 
dred large evergreen trees around rny house 
were planted so early in spring that some 
frozen ground was found when digging the 
holes ; but not one died, although there were 
plenty of wiseacres who said, “Evergreens 
do better when planted late in spring.” 
UNCOVERING PLANTS. 
Plants that were protected last fall with 
litter must he uncovered very soon, but it is 
not best to be in too great, a hurry, for frosts 
may nip the teuder shoots ; still, it will not 
do to leave the protection on until they are 
forced into a tender growth. I have found 
it a good plan to go over the borders and 
beds aud lift up with a fork the mulch and 
let fall down again loosely upon the plants. 
This will permit the air to reach the plants 
and keep them in check, beside prevent rot¬ 
ting in case of very wet, cold weather. It is 
considerable labor to go over a plantation of 
strawberries and shake up the mulch ; but I 
think it will benefit the plants sufficiently to 
pay the cost. The snow of winter usually 
packs the ha} - or straw used for covering 
down very dose upon the plants and keeps 
them wet and cold ; but by loosening up a 
little, the water soou passes off and the 
ground becomes warm. These may appear 
to be rather insignificant matters to write 
about, but they are important nevertheless, 
' i auum, wuw tuo mtjjujwtHu iigvui 
bines, which should never go out ol fashion ! and „ olm . UllR . s bring success where, if not 
because always beautiful aud susceptible of tended to, there might be a failure, 
constant aud continued improvement. „„ , , .... 
The straw, hay, or other materials used m 
THE FIRST DAYS OF SPRING. protecting the plants iu winter need not be 
March 2.—There are few patches of bare taken out of the garden in summer, because 
ground on this, the second day of Spring, the strawberries, gooseberries, raspberries 
But the sun is warm and the snowbanks are and currants will be greatly benefited by 
disappearing rapidly. Knowing that spring having the plants covered with mulch during 
is at hand, we must begin to sharpen our hot, dry weather, especially during the fruit- 
pruning knives, get out the implements for ing season. These fruits require more moist- 
cultivating the farm and garden. Manure 
must be hauled out and spread upon the 
land to be planted with potatoes, corn and 
vegetabl?s ; as well as upon that which is to 
ure than they usually get in our hot, dry 
climate; aud as a rule, mulching is benefi 
cial. If anybody doubts this: they have only 
to try it and learn for theinselves ; 
