* hedge. 
' tree. 
“ity of setting a ‘‘green tree now and then.” 
a modern writer, ‘‘to see the green boughs of the pine tree 
see them-as they bend to the slightest breath of air. 
[FOREST AND STREAM. 
165 


of me, every movement of Editl¥ as she glided through the 
figures of the dance, and noting with anger and bitterness 
of spirit, every glance she bestowed upon others, when I 
chanced to hear her name mentioned by some one near me. 
Now, during the dancing the poop-deck is occupied ex- 
clusively by the chaperons and those unfortunate male 
creatures who find their heels intractable. In the spanker 
I recognized a middle-aged matron, the mother of two 
young ladies dancing merrily below, and distant relative 
or connection of my flame. 
“T suppose you know,” she said to her companion, that 
Edith is engaged to Lieutenant Hardtack. He proposed at 
the picnic, and she accepted him, of course. Why his 
father is a Baronet, with an income of £500 a year, and 
if his six brothers die before him he will succeed to the title 
and estate. The family are delighted, as they were afraid 
Edith would throw herself away on a fellow who has been 
paying her some attention. He’s a printer, or an editor, or 
something of that sort, and he-used to send her books and 
the most lovely wild-flowers, but of course he’ll never have 
anything, and Lieutenant Hardtack has £500 a year beside 
his pay. 
I did not stop to hear more of the conversation, to which 
I had been aninvoluntary, but of course a deeply interested 
listener. Nor did I wait to claim my dance. A sadder 
and a wiser man I hailed a boatman to row {me ashore. 
Shortly after I left Halifax forever. I did not write to 
Edith, and 
‘* Send her back her letters and give her back her ring.” 
I had neither letters or ring to send or give. I did not 
upbraid her, or have a stormy interview at parting. I never 
saw her after that night. And that is ‘‘How I was jilted.” 
Had the sea been smoother and the wind been less bois- 
terous, I might have had a different story to tell, but that 
is pure conjecture, and this is a narrative of facts. 
CHARLES A. PILLSBURY. 
AVoodland, Zawn and Garden. 
HEDGES AND THEIR USES, 
No. VI0.—Tue Pine TREE. (Pinus.) 
Nat. Ord. (Coinfere.) 
heat ATE 
‘‘ Beneath the forest’s shade I rest, 
Whose branching pines rise dark and high, 
And hear the breezes of the west, 
Among the threaded foliage high.” 



BRYANT. 

HE pines comprise one of the most important of the 
genus evergreens, whether made use of as a standard 
to adorn the lawn, a standard tree, or as a plant in the 
The eye can scarcely rest upon a more enchanting 
sight than the white pine in its native forest. This tree is 
-capable of withstanding the greatest extremes of cold 
without the slightest injury. Growing even in the greatest 
luxuriance in regions of ice, it lives and thrives with a per- 
petual verdure.* 
Although a finely developed tree, and, we believe, a good 
hedge plant, but few of the ten species growing in the Uni- 
ted States have thus far been very extensively used for 
hedges. The pine always presents the same cooling aspect 
in summer and agreeable greenness in mid-winter. In many 
of the snow-clad portions of the world, as Switzerland, the 
high Alps, and even in Norway and other cold latitudes, 
the pine is called the pet tree of the homestead. In Mex- 
ico Humboldt says he ‘‘found them higher than any other 
tree,” and Lieutenant Glennie describes them as growing in 
‘thick forests on the mountains of Popocatapetl as high as 
12,693 feet, beyond which altitude vegetation ceases en- 
tirely.”’ 
The pine is a tree so well known to almost every person 
who lives in the United States that it would seem superflu- 
ous to enter upon the minuter details of this interesting 
Yet there may be some men possessed of consider- 
able information, too, who do not ‘‘know pines.” To such 
a few practical ideas may not be given in vain. Certainly 
not if they would use this tree arboretically, or as a screen 
hedge of larger dimensions. 
The leaves of the pine are very peculiar, being linear, or 
needle-shaped, and are always arrayed in little parcels of 
from two to six, this number varying in the different spe- 
cies. The great value of the pine in withstanding our se- 
verest winters has made them a deservedly household tree. 
In the New England towns and villages great pains and 
_care are frequently bestowed in the selection of pine plants 
to adorn and beautify the green lawns about the home- 
stead. One old farmhouse upon the hillside of one of our 
New England villages affords an apt illustration of the util- 
“T love,” says 
I love to 
They 
look invitingly pleasant to me—they tell me of home.” 
When quite a lad this gentleman, a great lover of trees, 
removed.from the neighboring pine tree forest a great num- 
ber of the small white pine plants in the winter, and set 
them out in a circular belt around the base of a hill near 
his now delightful home. He made one of the most beau- 
tiful and permanent pine tree hedges I ever beheld, which 
fully proves to my own mind the ease with which the white 
pine, and other pines also, if judiciously used, can be made 
waving in the breeze; the sound is so homelike. 
inte hedges. 
The plan pursued by my friend was as follows, and the 
result warranted all his painstaking. He cut a small trench 

*Upon Mount Blanc pines grow within 2,800 feet of the line of eternal 
snow in full vigor. 
— 
all around the small pine plants to be removed, leaving the 
ball of earth to become frozen by the cold. These he re- 
moved in winter to holes previously prepared for them, and 
he has a beautiful hedge of the white pine ten feet wide 
and ten feet broad at the base, without a single stem be- 
ing denuded from this long circular belt. 
IT have seen several belts of this kind of hedge all in 
thrifty condition, and very even in their outline, growing 
freely and evenly from their base to their terminal points. 
The best manner is to give the plants all the room they 
want in the row, and not to apply the shears too 
much, if any. If the plants are selected and planted quite 
near together in lines (say not over fourteen inches to two 
feet apart) they will readily compact themselves into a thick 
bushy row hedge, as they grow more slowly in this manner 
than when standing alone as trees or in groups. This kind 
of pine seems naturally adapted to bleak, windy localities, 
and clings with great tenacity to its new locality when it 
has acquired from two to three years’ growth. It grows 
well on the most silicious soils. We have seen them thriv- 
ing heartily upon sand hills that would scarcely afford sus- 
tenance for any other tree. 
We have heard it said that in several portions of Massa- 
chusetts the lands were too poor to bear anything but pines. 
Well, grow pines then, and you will in this manner be add- 
ing to the wealth of the country. A fine white pine forest 
is not only a beautiful but avery desirable object to be- 
hold; there being both beauty and wealth in the invest- 
ment. And these pine forests are yet to be planted and 
tilled in great number, and if you have available land lying 
idle (of which many hundreds of acres may be found in 
all our States) the best thing you can do is to seed the same 
down to white pines. It will pay in the course of one gen- 
eration, and if you do not live yourself to redp the benefit 
of your plantation of pines, you can leave it as a heritage 
to your sons. In our plea for the woodlands we shall urge 
upon all who own lands they de not know what to do with 
to consider well the claims of the times, the replacement of the 
ancient forests. But our article is upon the hedge, and not 
the woods, and we again return to our theme. 
If you have an ‘abrupt, rocky side-hill, which you would 
cover with belts or groups of trees, you cannot choose a 
better or more thrifty tree than the pine. In some States 
of our Union the pine tree plants are used as belt lines with 
good effect, and are really very valuable as orchard pro- 
tections against the windy currents which frequently blow 
quite strongly in certain directions. In one favorite local- 
ity we recommended the planting of a pine tree barrier for 
the protection of a fine orchard of thrifty young pear trees 
of the dwarf kind. Some ten years ago the owner of this 
pear orchard asked us, professionally, what he should do 
io preserve this fine orchard of his from the cold wintry 
winds ? Our answer was, plant a good sized barrier hedge, 
say in three parallel lines, at equal distances in your field, 
and you are allright. He was satisfied with our written 
directions as to how to select plants, to make his trenches 
out, and all the necessary treatment due the same for the 
term of three years. He grumbled somewhat at paying us 
for our written advice (@ ten dollar bill) at that time, but he 
has since confessed it to have been to him the “‘very best 
investment of the whole season.” He was wise in follow- 
ing to the letter our directions, and has now one of the best 
pear orchards to be found in the State. Were I to plant 
out an orchard of dwarf pear trees upon an exposed situa- 
tion—flat land particularly—the first thing I would do 
would be to enclose it with an evergreen hedge barrier. 
Our evergreens are too much neglected, and have been 
for years, but a change for the better seems to have been 
eradually coming over many of our States. 
Any one inclined to make an experiment with pine 
hedge making upon a small scale can do so, and will find a 
pleasure as well as profit in the same. Do not stop to.con- 
sider your time.a failure, and that you will lose twenty per 
cent. of your first planting. Whatif youdo? Try again. 
Select one hundred plants, and, after preparing your trench, 
take up from the woods plants of one or two feet high, dig 
carefully, and when planted as before instructed, mulch 
and wait, and you can then tell your exact per centage of 
loss. Do this, and inform us of your success. Every man 
should try his hand at making a one hundred tree hedge, if 
no more. OLLIPOD QUILL. 

—> © 
FREsH-BLOWN FLowers in WinteR.—The following di- 
rections are indorsed by the Manufacturer and Builder: 
““Choose some of the most powerful buds of the flowers 
you would preserve—such as are latest in blowing and 
ready to open; cut them off with a pair of scissors, leaving 
to each, if possible, a piece of the stem three inches long. 
Cover the stem immediately with sealing wax; and when 
the buds are a little shrunk and wrinkled, wrap each of 
them up separately in a piece of paper, perfectly clean and 
dry, and put them in adry box or drawer, and they will 
keep without corrupting. In winter, or any other time, 
when you would have the flowers bloom, take the buds at 
night,and cut off the end of the stem sealed with wax, and 
put them into water into which a little nitre or salt has 
been diffused; and the next day you will have the pleasure 
of seeing the buds open and expand themselves, and the 
flowers display their most lovely colors and breathe their 
agreeable odors.” 
SS 
—fSome ideaoft the rate at which the forests of the North- 
west are falling beneath the axe of the lumbermen, may be 
gathered from the following: The total amount of lumber 
run out of the Cass river, Michigan, this season, is about 
80,000,000 feet; out of the Au Gres 60,000,000; out of the 
Rifle booms 60,000,000, and out of the Saginaw river 
75,000, 000. 

petrifaction began. 
A PETRIFIED FOREST. 
ee SLES. f 
N Sonoma county, California, about eleven miles north 
of Santa Rosa, is a region known as ‘‘ The Petrified 
Forest,” not, as most tourists expect to find it, a growth 
of standing timber, but broken trunks and fragments of 
trees scattered everywhere, which a correspondent of the 
Alta Californian thus describes: 
The guide first conducts you to what was once a ‘‘goodly 
tree,” but which is now a ‘‘solid rock,” (the most conve- 
nient, but not a very scientific name,) lying on the ground 
and broken into several fragments. The circles of growth, 
knots, cracks, decayed parts, nodes, and every other char- 
acteristic of vegetation are quite distinctly perceptible. 
This specimen is rather a small one, but a little higher up 
you find others varying from three to ten feet in diameter 
near the root. In each of these the signs of structure are 
remarkably distinct and clear. Here you find a spur of a 
root, a piece of a branch, a piece of bark, and again you 
can see a fragment of charcoal petrified, and another not; 
another made red from the intensity of the heat, and frag- 
ments of every degree of petrification. You can find evi- 
dences of sulphur in some fragments, but silica seems to be 
the great agent of petrification. 
At the root of one of the largest of the petrified trees I 
found some of the bark imbedded in the volcanic tufa, 
which was almost as ‘“‘natural as life.” The tree itself was 
one of the finest specimens of petrification, being ten feet in 
diameter, almost as hard as adamant, and exhibiting all the 
cracks and cranies and other irregularities of an old trunk; 
yet by its side was this bark, soft and yielding to the touch. 
To the north of the tree region stand hills of volcanic 
tufa, which extends down to and around every tree. This 
isa kind of sand-stone, is soft, unaffected by fire, but easily 
dissolved in water. The whole region north and west, 
forming a kind of semi-circle, is composed of this tufa. 
The trees, with scarcely a single exception, lie prostrate, 
almost due north and south, showing that the force which 
prostrated them acted in the same direction and possibly at 
the same time. When the trees fell, they broke “right 
short off,” showing that they were petrified before the dis- 
turbing force came into operation. I would also hazard 
the conjecture that the trees were nude, hard and dry before 
This is evidenced by the fact that they 
bear every sign of old age, being full of cracks, and show- 
ing a good quantity of what must have been decayed sap 
of the last year’s growth. The trees belong to the common 
species of redwood, a few of which are still to be seen 
growing in the tufa and in a good healthy condition. It is 
worthy of mention that one fragment shows indications of 
haying been cut with some instrument. 
This petrified forest has doubtiess been known to the 
old trappers and mountain men for many years, they having 
frequently encountered it on their horse stealing raids to 
the California missions. It is unquestionably referred to 
in Ruxton’s Life in the far West, published in 1855, on page 
17, where an old hunter narrates his experience in the lingo 
peculiar to his class: 
One day we crossed a *‘ cafion” and over a ‘‘divide,” and 
got into a peraira, whar was green grass, and green trees, 
and green leaves on the trees, and biras singing in the green 
leaves, and thisin Febrary, wagh. Our animals was like 
to die when they see the green grass, and we all sung out, 
“hurraw for summer doins.” 
‘“Hyar goes for meat,” saysI, and I jest ups old Ginger 
at one of them singing birds, and down come the critter 
elegant; its darned head spinning away from the body, but 
never stops singing, and when | takes up the meat I finds 
it stone, wagh. ‘‘Hyar’s damp powder and no fire to dry 
it,’ I says, quite skeared. 
“Fire be dogged,” says old Rube. ‘‘Hyar’s a hos as’ll 
make fire come;”’ and with that he takes his ax and let’s 
it drive at a cotton wood. Schr-u-k—goes the ax agin the 
tree, and out comes a bit of the blade as big as my hand. 
We looks at the animals, and thar they stood shaking over 
the grass, which I’m dog-gone if it wasn’t stone, too 
Young Sublette comes up, and he’d been clerking down to 
the fort on Platte, so he know’d something. He looks and 
looks, and scrapes the trees with his butcher knife, and 
snaps the grass like pipe stems, and breaks the leaves 
a snappin’ like Californy shells. 
So 
—Certain facts have been made known that show that 
lime is a good preserver of timber. Ships and barges used 
for the transport of lime last longer than others. A small 
coasting schooner, laden with lime was cast ashore and 
sunk. She was raised and set afloat once more and re- 
mained sound for thirty years. Again, a platform of nine 
planks was used to mix mortar on during three generations, 
and then being no longer required, was neglected, and at 
length hidden by the grass that grew over it. Sixty years 
afterwards, on clearing the ground, it was discovered sound 
and well preserved. 


aoe 
Famous TrexEs.—Individual trees planted by famous 
men are still to be seen by the pilgrims who visit their 
homes and haunts. In the last century, there was quite a 
fashion for planting willows. It is said that the first weep- 
ing-willow seen in England was sent to the poet Pope, asa 
present, from Turkey, by his friend Lady Mary Wortely 
Montagu, and planted by him in his garden at Twicken- 
ham. It is the famous Salix Babylonica of the Psalter, upon 
-which, on the banks of Euphrates, the weeping daughters 
of Jerusalem hung their harps. Garrick planted two wil- 
lows on his lawn beside his Shakspeare Temple; in the 
midst of a thunder-storm, which destroyed one of them, the 
pious and deyoted widow of the great actor was seen 
running up and down excitedly, crying out, ‘‘Oh,. my Gar- 
rick! Oh, my Garrick!” The willow known as Dr. John- 
son’s willow, at Litchfield, was blown down long ago: 
it was said in the Gardeners Magazine to have been planted 
by him, but it is more probable that his admiration and 
talk of it developed the legend of his planting it. At the 
time of its destruction, it was thirteen feet in girth. Pieces 
of household furniture and snuff-boxes were made of it; 
and slips from it were planted by his admirers throughout 
the neighboring country; an offset of the old tree was plant- 
ed on the same site. Thomas Moore tells us that, when 
Byron first went to Newstead Abbey from Aberdeen, at the 
age of ten, he planted a young oak in some part of the 
grounds. He had a notion, or thought he had, that, as it 
flourished, so should hé. Six or seven years later, on re- 
visiting the spot, he found his oak choked up with weeds, 
and almost dead.—Chambers’ Journal. 
