THE BUBAL NEW-YORKEB. 
pation, nor ago. Other occupations mold classes 
of men. often serving to make them Mannish or 
exclusive. But in the pursuits of horticulture, 
we find a tendency to elevate and broaden all our 
conceptions of true manhood, and to mold the 
taste and aspirations of the race. \Ve may differ 
in politics, religions faith, and daily occupation, 
but we meet here on a common ground to re¬ 
cognize. a common bond of sympathy and a com¬ 
mon manhood. 
Wo shall soo the educaiing power of horticult¬ 
ure when we consider the fact that it tends to 
give stability to a rural population. Nothing 
else can bind families to their homes like trees, 
frnit and flowers. They are living things. We 
watch their growth from day to day. They are 
linked in memory often with the bright and 
sweet things of the past. Wo learn to love them 
and to love their history. Tho ordinary products 
of tho farm soon ripeu and aro gone, hut here 
nature slowly unfolds her purposes, requiring 
patieut waiting and constant caro for many 
years. Hence, men learu to love these trees. 
They give a peculiar charm in the eyes of the 
owner, to the picture of the homo. Tho farm 
crops, as a rule, hold the family only from spring 
to fall, and the owners of stock may roam, like 
their herds, from bill to hill, or from county to 
county ; but ho who plants trees, finds himself 
by the strongest possible ties—both of interest 
and affection bound to tho soil. The social, 
political, intellectual, and moral advantages Be 
cured by a permanent population, cannot be 
measured. It is enough to know that tho high¬ 
est order of civilization can bo reached alone by 
such a people. 
Horticultural pursuits serve also in an eminent 
degree to quicken observation and thought. New 
fields of inquiry aro coustantly opening to view. 
Each day will press homo new questions. The 
answers wo Shall seek for either in our own ex¬ 
perience or that of others ; tho result with the 
bettor class of minds, will be a quiokenod ob¬ 
servation, more careful study, and a more prof¬ 
itable social intercourse. The range of observa¬ 
tion extends over a very wide field, and tho in¬ 
quiries demanding solution will load to every 
department of natural science—not to scieuce as 
taught In the class-room alone, but to nature 
herself, aud to the practical application of sci¬ 
ence to the wants of man. 
For example, it is well to be able to determine 
the family, species, and variety of a plant; but 
it is more important to know how that plant can 
be used in the interest of man. Or again, it is 
not enough to understand tho theory of hybrid¬ 
ization ; but it is the work of tho horticulturist 
to make a practical application of the doctrine, 
and roach desirable results. The lawd also of 
bud-growth, beautiful as they may be in theory, 
derive all their importance from a practical ap¬ 
plication. The mysteries that hang around tho 
microscopic fungus growth, that seems to fill all 
that measurelfass world below the natural vision, 
take a strong hold on the mind of the scientist; 
but when they come to tho farmer or horticul¬ 
turist, in tho shape of rust, scab—or it may be 
blight, sweeping away in an hour tho hope of 
the year—they assume a practical importance 
out of all proportion to their Hize. These aro 
not simply subjects of scientific inquiry, but 
practical questions involving the interests of 
man. 
Questions of like character, ranging through 
every department of natural science, will meet 
the horticulturist at every step. There will 
hence be secured, by the pressure of the sur¬ 
roundings, a practical mental culture, its extent 
and value measured, in a largo degree, by the 
will of the man. Horticultural pursuits also 
favor a denser population than ordinary farm¬ 
ing. Smaller farms are occupied and residences 
are located nearer together. And henco larger 
privileges are conferred upon families aud neigh¬ 
borhoods. The very nature of the occupation 
brings men much in contact with their fellows 
and more abundant opportunities are offered for 
social improvement, as compared with other oc¬ 
cupations. 
The work of tho horticulturist, both with res¬ 
pect to its influence upon himself and upon 
others, is a matter of grave moment. In the 
production of fruits and vegetables, he labors in 
the most efficient manner to supply the physical 
wants of man; but there is an almost infinitely 
wider range of work in supplying the higher 
wants of man’s nature. That great truth, that 
“ does not live by bread alone,” has been 
accepted in a comprehensive sense. The flowers 
—those fragile emblems of a higher and purer 
life, that brighten for an hour the festive hall, 
or bend with dewy fragrance over our coffined 
dead—so speak that even the rudest mind must 
learn. The man of culture would add to the 
delights of home, the means of gratifying his 
love for the beautiful in nature. Trees, shrubs, 
and flowers are gathered from every clime, and 
each adds lts own peculiar attraction to the 
home. Finished by tbo hand of experience and 
correct taste,that home, with its perfected frame¬ 
work, becomes a thing of beauty, and while min¬ 
istering to the wants of the owner, it stands as a 
teacher whose power for good no roan can meas¬ 
ure. Man cannot move through scenes of beauty 
without foeling their power. That beauty, in a 
cortain sense, becomes a part of his being. While 
the horticulturist may gather many lessons of 
rich experience from his own work, that work 
will abide as an earnest and successful teacher 
many years after he has gone. Let him plant a 
beautiful tree; slowly, year by year, it raises its 
head heavenward. The planter and those who 
_ 'C'av'.v; ' 
T^IQUIDAMBAR A.S A. SI1RU11. . 
knew and loved him pass away, but a hundred 
years hence there stands tho mouunient of his 
work in all of its glory. For a long century it 
has taught the passing crowd, giving grateful 
shade to tho weary, and engraving upon tho 
mind of each passer-by its lines of perfected beau¬ 
ty. Wu say then to tho boy, to the young man and 
to the man of gray hairs—plant trees, plant 
orchards, plant forests, plant long-lived trees by 
the roadsids and about your homes. Lay out 
your grounds with an eye upon the years of the 
far future, knowing that your work is to stand 
as one of the teachers of the ages to come. 
State Ag. College, Manhattan, Kan. 
-*-•“*“* -- 
WHIFFS FROM CANADA. 
BY ANNIE L. JACK. 
The days are visibly shortening, and the first 
of November finds us with double windows on 
for tho winter, all plastering done with lime and 
cement, cracked window panes replaced by sound 
ones, and the winter's fuel securely housed. We 
look out on the desolate garden with a sigh, but 
we turn again indoors and think of the pleasant 
days in store for us, when we can rest from our 
labors and make np for lost lime in reading and 
study. The children, busy with lesBons, find the 
days all too short to crowd in any amusement, 
and are already counting the weeks until Christ¬ 
mas gives them a holiday. 
Ah ! those holidays! what would life be with¬ 
out them! How they servo to brighten the 
hours of toil afterwards! How the memory of 
past hours, that were our holidays, cheer us 
through days of December gloom! 
I said in my heart,. “ I will not write to the 
Rural this week, for I am just about to settle 
down to winter work after my long summer of 
pleasant out-of-door work, and my page may be 
tinged with sadness." But the little pointed peD, 
so tiny in itself, seems mightier than my will, aud 
so I send the reader a whiff from far-off Canada, 
this chill November day. 
While garden work is finished, except covering 
up tender plants and bulb beds, the orchard 
work still continues; for our new plantation of 
1,0U0 Apple trees must be tile-drained, and just 
now, all hands aro busy putting down twelve 
hundred tiles before hard frost sots in. 
“A lino orchard!” says our Kansas friend, 
who has been here a few weeks visiting the old 
homestead, " but"— ah, those but# /—“ it must 
be drained.” “ Yea,” answered tho orchardist, 
“ it is true, as Warder says, an Apple tree will 
fall into adoclino or consumption, if condemued 
to wet feet, as would a delicate girl under rimilar 
expo>ure." 
Still green and flourishing aro tho new Blooms- 
dale rutabagas sent to mo by a friend for trial. 
It was August, when they were sown, after a 
crop of top onions had ripened. No additional 
manure was used, but the seeds, sown in little 
s/iots iu tho rows, came up thickly, and were 
thinned after tiio first hoeiug. Through all the 
warm September and pleasant October, they 
grow finely, and after repeated trials at the ta¬ 
ble, wo are obliged to Bay that Landreth’s 
Bloomsdale ruta-baga is the best turnip we 
have over cooked. Boiling but lit tle longer than 
a potato, gives uh a vegetable tender and smooth, 
of tbo color and flavor of cream, as nearly as a 
turnip can approach that bight and be a turnip 
still. This, If our last, is certainly uot tho leant- 
prized vegetable of our garden. 
^rboriruitural, 
LIQUIDAMBAR. 
Rural Grounds, Nov., 5. 
In accordance with our design to place before 
our readers life-sketches of hardy trees which 
either rre little known, or else, whether well or 
little known, are tho most valuable for ornamen¬ 
tal purposes, we now produce the Liquidambar 
which may be found from New England to the 
(iulf. There aro two reasons why this beautiful 
tree is uot used as much as it deserves to be. 
1 n the foroat, like the Tuhp, it loses its lower 
branches, and its straight stem and small top 
presont little to engage the admiration of those 
who examine forest trees with a view to trans¬ 
planting them. Again, forest trees, unless very 
young, are successfully transplanted with d fli- 
culty. Even when taken from uurseries, great 
care should be observed not to expose the roots 
to wind or suu. 
Daring the fall which proceded tho terrible 
winter of '74, wo planted six Liquidambars re¬ 
ceived from a nursery. In the following spring 
all were found to be dead but one, aznl that was 
dead to within a foot of the ground. From this 
a strong shoot pushed and as. during the sum¬ 
mer. we noticed its shiny, star like leaves and 
the brilliant tints whioh they assume in the fall, 
it occurred to us that many true shrubs valued 
for their folinge were far less meritorious. Iu 
view of this, our Liquidambar has since been 
restricted by summer pinching and fall pruning 
to tho form shown in tho engraving. It is about 
four foot iu bight. 
The seeds of Liquidambar styraoitlua, the 
Sweet-gum tree or Dilated, which ripen iu Octo¬ 
ber upon trees twenty years old aud upwards, 
should bo sown as soon as ripe aud protected 
with a leaf-covering during tho winter. Some 
will germinate tho next spring—others roinain 
until another year. Tho Seedlings wilt make a 
growth of six or eight inches during the season, 
forming fibrous roots plentifully. If then given 
the treatment which all nursery trees should re¬ 
ceive. they may bo transplanted cither in t he fall 
or spring as readily ns a Silver Maple. Tho form 
of this tivo varies according to situation aud 
soil. It is one of the few really ornamental trees 
that thrive in low damp places. Wo have ob¬ 
served moat luxuriant. specimens iu this locality 
growing upon springy hill-sides and several 
specimens are now growing in these grounds, 
with their roots, thelowor part at least, in water. 
We know also of a lino specimen about thirty 
feet in bight growing on a soil so sandy that few 
plants do well without tho constant use of ma¬ 
nure. 
The Sweet-gum surpasses all other trees in 
the beauty of its autumn colors which also 
vary according to tho exposure and the soil in 
whioh tho tree grows. On account of tho late¬ 
ness of hai d frost it has this season held its va¬ 
ried and brilliant colors ten days longer than 
usual. Wo have Just plucked several leaves that 
w’ere so darkly red as to appear jet black at a 
littlo distanco. 
#1 ori cultural. 
CALLICARPA GRACILIS. 
BY WM. FALCONER. 
Tuts ornamental berry-bearing shrub, often 
called 0. purpurea, is iu late fall, one of our 
most deoorativo hardy plants. It belongs to the 
Vdrbena family, and is a native of Japan. Its 
(lowers aro small, delicate, palo-purple, and ar¬ 
ranged in axillary cymes all along the branches 
and branchlets of tho current year's growth. 
Those cymes nearest tho base of the branches 
open first—usually early in August—and are 
regularly succeeded by tbo others towards the 
apex, ’till by the middle of October, all have 
bloomed. The flowers aro immediately suc- 
ceedtd by a crop of very small berries, the more 
advanced of which, by tho end of September, 
assume a bright lilac-purple or amethyst color, 
whioh is gradually communicated to all tho 
berries as they advance in growth, and in which 
is centred the horticultural attraction of the 
plant. By tho first week in November, tho 
branches are all aglow and continue so till sharp 
frosts end their beauty; a slight frost docs pot 
injure them perceptibly. In warmer and more 
favored locations than Massachusetts, this shrub 
will come proportionately earlier into perfec¬ 
tion. 
It is not nsually considered hardy in this State 
hence, it has beeu discarded even by our nur¬ 
serymen, and I cannot find it advertised in any 
of the catalogues that I have got. Consequent¬ 
ly, to the exclamations of admiration, aud to 
the queries as to whore it can be procured, ex¬ 
pressed by visitors here, 1 can only say : '• I do 
not know; no one seems to have got it.” The 
stems are not hardy bnt tho roots are. Wo havo 
two fine old plauts, on low ground with a clay 
bottom, and where the frost remains long in 
spring ; and tho stems which shoot np in masses 
iu the spiiug-time are killed to the ground the 
next winter, just like those of the Phlox or 
Larkspur, and though quite [unprotected, year 
after year, they grow up stronger thau before. 
Now, if all these steins bo allowed to grow they 
will became a weakly mass of Osier-like wythes, 
worthless iu a decorative sense, but I thin out 
four-fifths of them as soon as they are a few 
inches high, retaining the strongest aud erasing 
the weakest. One thinning won't do, so 1 havo 
them goue over once or twice again, removing 
the woahhtiga. This labor is repaid in hemi¬ 
spherical bushes, some three aud a half feet 
high by seven feet through, and composed of 
firm, well-ripened, branchy stems that have am¬ 
ple room but not an inch to spare, aud that are 
covered with tiny flowers in August aud Septem¬ 
ber, and iu October and November witn bright 
and showy berries. 
UAF-MOLO. 
Now, when leaves are plentiful and drifting 
about everywhere, is the time to secure a pile 
for leaf-mold. Almost any kind of tree-leaves 
are good enough, hut those of the oak are reck¬ 
oned the best, and anything iu the way of pine- 
tree leaves, or ueedtea as they are often called, 
should be rejected. A barrowful won’t do. 
