22 
FLORIDA STATE HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 
many successive years, impressed all be¬ 
holders with the magnificence and per¬ 
sistence of its autumn color. 
And here I wish to insert a word as to 
character of growth—^and this applies not 
only to the Nyssas, or gums, but to many 
other genera—which is that one must 
bear in mind very closely the environment 
when he is tr3dng to identify a tree for 
his own satisfaction or to describe it to the 
satisfaction of others. The particular 
black gum just referred to has, for in¬ 
stance, a wide, spreading, well-rounded 
top with branches that would sweep the 
ground if, unfortunately, these lower 
branches did not have to be trimmed, an¬ 
nually, to keep open the road that runs be¬ 
neath it. The gums in the river swamp 
close at hand send up a sturdy bole for 
many feet before signs of the first decay¬ 
ing or decayed branches give intimation 
that the foliage, necessary to the tree’s life, 
has had to climb higher and still higher 
after air and sunshine. The crowding of 
many trees into a space where but one can 
fulfill its allotment of years offers an in¬ 
teresting study in the survival of the fit¬ 
test, as well as the scope allowed by Na^ 
ture in the form of growth the surviving 
species may assume in the struggle. 
If through dimness of vision, or ex- 
tr^ie height of our supposed black gum, 
we are unable to differentiate the foliage 
from that of the neighboring species, that 
interlace it, let us use the convenient 
hatchet we have brought along and cut out 
a small section of root. This, in the deep 
mold where alone our tree would have 
grown tall enough to require such proce¬ 
dure, will not materially injure it and, if 
we have been correct in our guess, we can 
take home a section of root so light and 
corky in character as to be a handy substi¬ 
tute for the bottle stoppers of commerce— 
which are made from the bark of a par¬ 
ticular species of oak. If, on the other 
hand, we should happen to run across a 
black gum in the open, its branches will be 
so close to the ground that no hatchet or 
root will be necessary to identify it; but, 
if our quest has been made in the fall, we 
may then carry home a few quarts of the 
bluish-black, cherry-like drupe, that is its 
fruit, and make it into a most excellent 
jelly. 
But I have strayed from my thicket 
into the clearing on the one side and into 
the river swamp on the other. Let us re¬ 
turn and for a few minutes examine the 
genus to which so many complimen¬ 
tary adjectives have been applied,— 
grand, sturdy, time-defying—Quercus, 
the oaks. They are here In abundance 
and, like the Liquidambars, preempting 
ground in the most lavish way. The 
outlines of their respective staked claims 
are but dimly marked ; and here again it 
will be a case of ‘‘might is right” unless 
some friendly hand decides in favor of 
one over the other. 
Which shall it be; shall we interfere 
or let them rustle for themselves? And 
again, if we do interfere, shall we do so 
without respect to families? Shall we 
tell Quercus aquatica that he is, and 
should recognize that he is, a water oak, 
and that it is both indecorous and ungaT- 
lant to flaunt his flaming spring habili¬ 
ments in the face of his more sedate and 
more permanently clothed relative, the 
live oak, Quercus virens, from Virginia? 
If we do tell him anything of this sort, let 
us do it in a kindly way and impress upon 
him that if he will take time to think it 
over, he will at least look cooler. 
However, perhaps it is best to say noth¬ 
ing but just lie low and await develop¬ 
ments. Our water oak will undoubtedly 
