CHAPTER II FRUIT-TREES AND GRASS
CHAPTER III THE GARDEN
CHAPTER IV THE VINEYARD AND ORCHARD
CHAPTER V THE RASPBERRY
CHAPTER VI THE CURRANT
CHAPTER VII STRAWBERRIES
CHAPTER VIII THE KITCHEN-GARDEN
CHAPTER IX THE KITCHEN-GARDEN (Concluded)
CHAPTER I
TREE-PLANTING
Land hunger is so general that it may be regarded as a natural craving.
Artificial modes of life, it is true, can destroy it, but it is apt to
reassert itself in later generations. To tens of thousands of
bread-winners in cities a country home is the dream of the future, the
crown and reward of their life-toil. Increasing numbers are taking what
would seem to be the wiser course, and are combining rural pleasures
and advantages with their business. As the questions of rapid transit
are solved, the welfare of children will turn the scale more and more
often against the conventional city house or flat. A home CAN be
created in rented dwellings and apartments; but a home for which we
have the deed, a cottage surrounded by trees, flowers, lawn, and
garden, is the refuge which best satisfies the heart. By means of such
a suburban nook we can keep up our relations with Nature and all her
varied and health-giving life. The tired man returning from business
finds that his excited brain will not cease to act. He can enjoy
restoring rest in the complete diversion of his thoughts; he can think
of this tree or that plant, and how he can fill to advantage unoccupied
spaces with other trees, flowers, and vegetables. If there is a Jersey
cow to welcome him with her placid trust, a good roadster to whinny for
an airing, and a flock of chickens to clamor about his feet for their
supper, his jangling nerves will be quieted, in spite of all the bulls
and bears of Wall Street. Best of all, he will see that his children
have air and space in which to grow naturally, healthfully. His
fruit-trees will testify to his wisdom in providing a country home. For
instance, he will observe that if sound plums are left in contact with
stung and decaying specimens, they too will be infected; he will see
that too close crowding renders the prospect for good fruit doubtful;
and, by natural transition of thought, will be glad that his boys and
girls are not shut in to the fortuitous associations of hall-way and
street. The area of land purchased will depend largely on the desires
and purse of the buyer; but about one acre appears to satisfy the
majority of people. This amount is not so great that the business man
is burdened with care, nor is its limit so small that he is cramped and
thwarted by line fences. If he can give to his bit of Eden but little
thought and money, he will find that an acre can be so laid out as to
entail comparatively small expense in either the one or the other; if
he has the time and taste to make the land his play-ground as well as
that of his children, scope is afforded for an almost infinite variety
of pleasing labors and interesting experiments. When we come to co-work
with Nature, all we do has some of the characteristics of an
experiment. The labor of the year is a game of skill, into which also
enter the fascinating elements of apparent chance. What a tree, a
flower, or vegetable bed will give, depends chiefly upon us; yet all
the vicissitudes of dew, rain, frost, and sun, have their part in the
result. We play the game with Nature, and she will usually let us win
if we are not careless, ignorant, or stupid. She keeps up our zest by
never permitting the game to be played twice under the same conditions.
We can no more carry on our garden this season precisely as we did last
year than a captain can sail his ship exactly as he did on the
preceding voyage. A country home makes even the weather interesting;
and the rise and fall of the mercury is watched with scarcely less
solicitude than the mutations of the market.
In this chapter and in those which may ensue I merely hope to make some
useful suggestions and give practical advice--the result of experience,
my own and others'--which the reader may carry out and modify according
to his judgment.
We will suppose that an acre has been bought; that it is comparatively
level, with nothing of especial value upon it--in brief, that the home
and its surroundings are still to be created.
It is not within my design to treat of the dwelling, its architecture,
etc., but we shall have something to say further on in regard to its
location. Before purchasing, the most careful investigations should be
made as to the healthfulness of the region and the opportunities for
thorough drainage. Having bought the acre, the question of removing all
undue accumulations of water on or beneath the surface should be
attended to at first. The dry appearance of the soil during much of the
year may be misleading. It should be remembered that there are
equinoctial storms and melting snows. Superabundant moisture at every
period should have channels of immediate escape, for moisture in excess
is an injury to plant as well as to family life; while thoroughly and
quickly drained land endures drought far better than that which is
rendered heavy and sour by water stagnating beneath the surface.
Tile-drains are usually the cheapest and most effective; but if there
are stones and rocks upon the place, they can be utilized and disposed
of at the same time by their burial in ditches--and they should be
covered so deeply that a plow, although sunk to the beam, can pass over
them. Tiles or the top of a stone drain should be at least two feet
below the surface. If the ground of the acre is underlaid with a porous
subsoil, there is usually an adequate natural drainage.
Making haste slowly is often the quickest way to desired results. It is
the usual method to erect the dwelling first, and afterward to subdue
and enrich the ground gradually. This in many instances may prove the
best course; but when it is practicable, I should advise that building
be deferred until the land (with the exception of the spaces to be
occupied with the house and barn) can be covered with a heavy dressing
of barnyard manure, and that this be plowed under in the autumn. Such
general enriching of the soil may seem a waste in view of the
carriage-drive and walks yet to be laid out; but this will not prove
true. It should be remembered that while certain parts of the place are
to be kept bare of surface-vegetation, they nevertheless will form a
portion of the root-pasturage of the shade and fruit trees. The land,
also, can be more evenly and deeply plowed before obstructions are
placed upon it, and roots, pestiferous weeds, and stones removed with
greatest economy. Moreover, the good initial enriching is capital,
hoarded in the soil, to start with. On many new places I have seen
trees and plants beginning a feeble and uncertain life, barely existing
rather than growing, because their roots found the soil like a table
with dishes but without food. If the fertilizer is plowed under in the
autumn, again mixed with the soil by a second plowing in the spring, it
will be decomposed and ready for immediate use by every rootlet in
contact with it. Now, as farmers say, the "land is in good heart," and
it will cheer its owner's heart to see the growth promptly made by
whatever is properly planted. Instead of losing time, he has gained
years. Suppose the acre to have been bought in September, and treated
as I have indicated, it is ready for a generous reception of plants and
trees the following spring.
Possibly at the time of purchase the acre may be covered with coarse
grass, weeds, or undergrowth of some kind. In this case, after the
initial plowing, the cultivation for a season of some such crop as corn
or potatoes may be of great advantage in clearing the land, and the
proceeds of the crop would partially meet expenses. If the aim is
merely to subdue and clean the land as quickly as possible, nothing is
better than buckwheat, sown thickly and plowed under just as it comes
into blossom. It is the nature of this rampart-growing grain to kill
out everything else and leave the soil light and mellow. If the ground
is encumbered with many stones and rocks, the question of clearing it
is more complicated. They can be used, and often sold to advantage, for
building purposes. In some instances I have seen laboring-men clear the
most unpromising plots of ground by burying all rocks and stones deeply
beneath the surface--men, too, who had no other time for the task
except the brief hours before and after their daily toil.
I shall give no distinct plan for laying out the ground. The taste of
the owner, or more probably that of his wife, will now come into play.
Their ideas also will be modified by many local circumstances--as, for
instance, the undulations of the land, if there are any; proximity to
neighbors, etc. If little besides shade and lawn is desired, this fact
will have a controlling influence; if, on the other hand, the
proprietor wishes to make his acre as productive as possible, the house
will be built nearer the street, wider open space will be left for the
garden, and fruit-trees will predominate over those grown merely for
shade and beauty. There are few who would care to follow a plan which
many others had adopted. Indeed, it would be the natural wish of
persons of taste to impart something of their own individuality to
their rural home; and the effort to do this would afford much agreeable
occupation. Plates giving the elevation and arrangement of country
homes can be studied by the evening lamp; visits to places noted for
their beauty, simplicity, and good taste will afford motives for many a
breezy drive; while useful suggestions from what had been accomplished
by others may repay for an extended journey. Such observations and
study will cost little more than an agreeable expenditure of time; and
surely a home is worth careful thought. It then truly becomes YOUR
home--something that you have evolved with loving effort. Dear thoughts
of wife and children enter into its very materiality; walks are planned
with a loving consciousness of the feet which are to tread them, and
trees planted with prophetic vision of the groups that will gather
beneath the shade. This could scarcely be true if the acre were turned
over to architect, builders, and landscape-gardeners, with an agreement
that you should have possession at a specified time.
We will suppose that it is early spring, that the ground has received
its second plowing, and that the carriage-drive and the main walks have
been marked out on paper, or, better still, on a carefully considered
map. There is now so much to do that one is almost bewildered; and the
old saying, "Rome was not built in a day," is a good thing to remember.
An orderly succession of labor will bring beauty and comfort in good
time, especially if essential or foundation labors are first well
performed. Few things will prove more satisfactory than dry, hard,
smooth carriage-roads and walks. These, with their curves, can be
carefully staked out, the surface-earth between the stakes to the depth
of four or five inches carted to the rear of the place near the stable,
or the place where the stable is to be. Of the value of this
surface-soil we shall speak presently, and will merely remark in
passing that it is amply worth the trouble of saving. Its removal
leaves the beds of the driveway and walks depressed several inches
below the surrounding surface. Fill these shallow excavations with
little stones, the larger in the bottom, the smaller on top, and cover
all with gravel. You now have roads and walks that will be dry and hard
even in oozy March, and you can stroll about your place the moment the
heaviest shower is over. The greater first cost will be more than made
good by the fact that scarcely a weed can start or grow on pathways
thus treated. All they will need is an occasional rounding up and
smoothing with a rake.
While this labor is going on you can begin the planting of trees. To
this task I would earnestly ask careful attention. Your house can be
built in a summer; but it requires a good part of a century to build
the best trees into anything like perfection.
The usual tendency is to plant much too closely. Observe well-developed
trees, and see how wide a space they require. There is naturally an
eager wish for shade as soon as possible, and a desire to banish from
surroundings an aspect of bareness. These purposes can, it is true,
often be accomplished by setting out more trees at first than could
mature, and by taking out one and another from time to time when they
begin to interfere with each other's growth. One symmetrical, noble
tree, however, is certainly worth more than a dozen distorted,
misshapen specimens. If given space, every kind of tree and shrub will
develop its own individuality; and herein lies one of their greatest
charms. If the oak typifies manhood, the drooping elm is equally
suggestive of feminine grace, while the sugar-maple, prodigal of its
rich juices, tasselled bloom, and winged seeds, reminds us of
wholesome, cheerful natures. Even when dying, its foliage takes on the
earliest and richest hues of autumn.
The trees about our door become in a sense our companions. They appeal
to the eye, fancy, and feelings of different people differently.
Therefore I shall leave the choice of arboreal associates to those who
are to plant them--a choice best guided by observation of trees. Why
should you not plant those you like the best, those which are the most
congenial?
A few suggestions, however, may be useful. I would advise the reader
not to be in too great haste to fill up his grounds. While there are
trees to which his choice reverts almost instantly, there are probably
many other beautiful varieties with which he is not acquainted. If he
has kept space for the planting of something new every spring and fall,
he has done much to preserve his zest in his rural surroundings, and to
give a pleasing direction to his summer observation. He is ever on the
alert to discover trees and shrubs that satisfy his taste.
During the preparation of this book I visited the grounds of Mr. A. S.
Fuller, at Kidgewood, N. J., and for an hour or two I broke the tenth
commandment in spite of myself. I was surrounded by trees from almost
every portion of the northern temperate zone, from Oregon to Japan; and
in Mr. Fuller I had a guide whose sympathy with his arboreal pets was
only equalled by his knowledge of their characteristics. All who love
trees should possess his book entitled "Practical Forestry." If it
could only be put into the hands of law-makers, and they compelled to
learn much of its contents by heart, they would cease to be more or
less conscious traitors to their country in allowing the destruction of
forests. They might avert the verdict of the future, and prevent
posterity from denouncing the irreparable wrong which is now permitted
with impunity. The Arnolds of to-day are those who have the power to
save the trees, yet fail to do so.
Japan appears to be doing as much to adorn our lawns and gardens as our
drawing-rooms; and from this and other foreign lands much that is
beautiful or curious is coming annually to our shores. At the same time
I was convinced of the wisdom of Mr. Fuller's appreciation of our
native trees. In few instances should we have to go far from home to
find nearly all that we wanted in beautiful variety--maples, dogwoods,
scarlet and chestnut oaks, the liquid-amber, the whitewood or
tulip-tree, white birch, and horn-beam, or the hop-tree; not to speak
of the evergreens and shrubs indigenous to our forests. Perhaps it is
not generally known that the persimmon, so well remembered by old
campaigners in Virginia, will grow readily in this latitude. There are
forests of this tree around Paterson, N. J., and it has been known to
endure twenty-seven degrees below zero. It is a handsome tree at any
season, and its fruit in November caused much straggling from our line
of march in the South. Then there is our clean-boled, graceful beech,
whose smooth white bark has received so many tender confidences. In the
neighborhood of a village you will rarely find one of these trees
whereon is not linked the names of lovers that have sat beneath the
shade. Indeed I have found mementoes of trysts or rambles deep in the
forest of which the faithful beech has kept the record until the lovers
were old or dead. On an immense old beech in Tennessee there is an
inscription which, while it suggests a hug, presents to the fancy an
experience remote from a lover's embrace. It reads, "D. Boone cilled
bar on tree."
There is one objection to the beech which also lies against the white
oak--it does not drop its leaves within the space of a few autumn days.
The bleached foliage is falling all winter long, thus giving the ground
near an untidy aspect. With some, the question of absolute neatness is
paramount; with others, leaves are clean dirt, and their rustle in the
wind does not cease to be music even after they have fallen.
Speaking of native trees and shrubs, we shall do well to use our eyes
carefully during our summer walks and drives; for if we do, we can
scarcely fail to fall in love with types and varieties growing wild.
They will thrive just as well on the acre if properly removed. In a
sense they bring the forest with them, and open vistas at our door deep
into the heart of Nature. The tree is not only a thing of beauty in
itself, but it represents to the fancy all its wild haunts the world
over.
In gratifying our taste for native trees we need not confine ourselves
to those indigenous to our own locality. From the nurseries we can
obtain specimens that beautify other regions of our broad land; as, for
instance, the Kentucky yellow-wood, the papaw, the Judas-tree, and, in
the latitude of New Jersey and southward, the holly.
In many instances the purchaser of the acre may find a lasting pleasure
in developing a specialty. He may desire to gather about him all the
drooping or weeping trees that will grow in his latitude, or he may
choose to turn his acre largely into a nut-orchard, and delight his
children with a harvest which they will gather with all the zest of the
frisky red squirrel. If one could succeed in obtaining a bearing tree
of Hale's paper-shell hickory-nut, he would have a prize indeed.
Increasing attention is given to the growing of nut-trees in our large
nurseries, and there would be no difficulty in obtaining a supply.
In passing from this subject of choice in deciduous trees and shrubs, I
would suggest, in addition to visits to woods and copse, to the
well-ornamented places of men who have long gratified a fine taste in
this respect, that the reader also make time to see occasionally a
nursery like that of S.B. Parsons & Co., at Flushing, N.Y. There is no
teaching like that of the eyes; and the amateur who would do a bit of
landscape-gardening about his own home learns what he would like and
what he can do by seeing shrubs and trees in their various stages of
growth and beauty.
I shall treat the subject of evergreens at the close of this chapter.
As a rule, I have not much sympathy with the effort to set out large
trees in the hope of obtaining shade more quickly. The trees have to be
trimmed up and cut back so greatly that their symmetry is often
destroyed. They are also apt to be checked in their growth so seriously
by such removal that a slender sapling, planted at the same time,
overtakes and passes them. I prefer a young tree, straight-stemmed,
healthy, and typical of its species or variety. Then we may watch its
rapid natural development as we would that of a child. Still, when
large trees can be removed in winter with a great ball of frozen earth
that insures the preservation of the fibrous roots, much time can be
saved. It should ever be remembered that prompt, rapid growth of the
transplanted tree depends on two things--plenty of small fibrous roots,
and a fertile soil to receive them. It usually happens that the
purchaser employs a local citizen to aid in putting his ground in
order. In every rural neighborhood there are smart men--"smart" is the
proper adjective; for they are neither sagacious nor trustworthy, and
there is ever a dismal hiatus between their promises and performance.
Such men lie in wait for newcomers, to take advantage of their
inexperience and necessary absence. They will assure their confiding
employers that they are beyond learning anything new in the planting of
trees--which is true, in a sinister sense. They will leave roots
exposed to sun and wind--in brief, pay no more attention to them than a
baby-farmer would bestow on an infant's appetite; and then, when
convenient, thrust them into a hole scarcely large enough for a post.
They expect to receive their money long before the dishonest character
of their work can be discovered. The number of trees which this class
of men have dwarfed or killed outright would make a forest. The result
of a well-meaning yet ignorant man's work might be equally
unsatisfactory. Therefore, the purchaser of the acre should know how a
tree should be planted, and see to it himself; or he should by careful
inquiry select a man for the task who could bring testimonials from
those to whom he had rendered like services in the past.
The hole destined to receive a shade or fruit tree should be at least
three feet in diameter and two feet deep. It then should be partially
filled with good surface soil, upon which the tree should stand, so
that its roots could extend naturally according to their original
growth. Good fine loam should be sifted through and over them, and they
should not be permitted to come in contact with decaying matter or
coarse, unfermented manure. The tree should be set as deeply in the
soil as it stood when first taken up. As the earth is thrown gently
through and over the roots it should be packed lightly against them
with the foot, and water, should the season be rather dry and warm,
poured in from time to time to settle the fine soil about them. The
surface should be levelled at last with a slight dip toward the tree,
so that spring and summer rains may be retained directly about the
roots. Then a mulch of coarse manure is helpful, for it keeps the
surface moist, and its richness will reach the roots gradually in a
diluted form. A mulch of straw, leaves, or coarse hay is better than
none at all. After being planted, three stout stakes should be inserted
firmly in the earth at the three points of a triangle, the tree being
its centre. Then by a rope of straw or some soft material the tree
should be braced firmly between the protecting stakes, and thus it is
kept from being whipped around by the wind. Should periods of drought
ensue during the growing season, it would be well to rake the mulch one
side, and saturate the ground around the young tree with an abundance
of water, and the mulch afterward spread as before. Such watering is
often essential, and it should be thorough. Unskilled persons usually
do more harm than good by their half-way measures in this respect.
Speaking of trees, it may so happen that the acre is already in forest.
Then, indeed, there should be careful discrimination in the use of the
axe. It may be said that a fine tree is in the way of the dwelling.
Perhaps the proposed dwelling is in the way of the tree. In England the
work of "groving," or thinning out trees, is carried to the perfection
of a fine art. One shudders at the havoc which might be made by a
stolid laborer. Indeed, to nearly all who could be employed in
preparing a wooded acre for habitation, a tree would be looked upon as
little more than so much cord-wood or lumber.
If I had a wooded acre I should study the trees most carefully before
coming to any decision as to the situation of the dwelling and
out-buildings. Having removed those obviously unworthy to remain, I
should put in the axe very thoughtfully among the finer specimens,
remembering that I should be under the soil before Nature could build
others like them.
In the fitting up of this planet as the home of mankind it would appear
that the Creator regarded the coniferae, or evergreen family, as well
worthy of attention; for almost from the first, according to
geologists, this family records on the rocky tablets of the earth its
appearance, large and varied development, and its adaptation to each
change in climate and condition of the globe's surface during the
countless ages of preparation. Surely, therefore, he who is evolving a
home on one acre of the earth's area cannot neglect a genus of trees
that has been so signally honored. Evergreens will speedily banish the
sense of newness from his grounds; for by putting them about his door
he has added the link which connects his acre with the earliest
geological record of tree-planting. Then, like Diedrich Knickerbocker,
who felt that he must trace the province of New York back to the origin
of the universe, he can look upon his coniferae and feel that his
latest work is in accord with one of the earliest laws of creation. I
imagine, however, that my readers' choice of evergreens will be
determined chiefly by the fact that they are always beautiful, are
easily managed, and that by means of them beautiful effects can be
created within comparatively small space. On Mr. Fuller's grounds I saw
what might be fittingly termed a small parterre of dwarf evergreens,
some of which were twenty-five years old.
Numbers of this family might be described as evergreen and gold; for
part of the perennial foliage shades off from the deepest green to
bright golden hues. Among the group of this variety, Japanese in
origin, Mr. Fuller showed me a "sporting" specimen, which, from some
obscure and remarkable impulse, appeared bent on producing a new and
distinct type. One of the branches was quite different from all the
others on the tree. It was pressed down and layered in the soil
beneath; when lo! a new tree was produced, set out beside its parent,
whom it soon surpassed in size, beauty, and general vigor. Although
still maintaining its green and golden hues, it was so distinct that no
one would dream that it was but a "sport" from the adjacent dwarf and
modest tree. Indeed, it reminded one of Beatrix Esmond beside her
gentle and retiring mother. If it should not in the future emulate in
caprice the fair subject of comparison, it may eventually become one of
the best-known ornaments of our lawns. At present it appears nowise
inclined to hide its golden light under a bushel.
What I have said about forming the acquaintance of deciduous trees and
shrubs before planting to any great extent, applies with even greater
force to the evergreen, family. There is a large and beautiful variety
from which to choose, and I would suggest that the choice be made
chiefly from the dwarf-growing kinds, since the space of one acre is
too limited for much indulgence in. Norway spruces, the firs, or pines.
An hour with a note-book spent in grounds like those of Mr. Fuller
would do more in aiding a satisfactory selection than years of reading.
Moreover, it should be remembered that many beautiful evergreens,
especially those of foreign origin, are but half hardy. The amateur may
find that after an exceptionally severe winter some lovely specimen,
which has grown to fill a large space in his heart, as well as on his
acre, has been killed. There is an ample choice from entirely hardy
varieties for every locality, and these, by careful inquiry of
trustworthy nurserymen, should be obtained.
Moreover, it should be remembered that few evergreens will thrive in a
wet, heavy soil. If Nature has not provided thorough drainage by means
of a porous subsoil, the work must be done artificially. As a rule,
light but not poor soils, and warm exposures, are best adapted to this
genus of trees.
I think that all authorities agree substantially that spring in our
climate is the best time for the transplanting of evergreens; but they
differ between early and advanced spring. The late Mr. A. J. Downing
preferred early spring; that is, as soon as the frost is out, and the
ground dry enough to crumble freely. Mr. A. S. Fuller indorses this
opinion. Mr. Josiah Hoopes, author of a valuable work entitled "The
Book of Evergreens," advises that transplanting be deferred to later
spring, when the young trees are just beginning their season's growth;
and this view has the approval of the Hon. Marshall P. Wilder and Mr.
S. B. Parsons, Jr., Superintendent of City Parks. Abundant success is
undoubtedly achieved at both seasons; but should a hot, dry period
ensue after the later planting--early May, for instance--only abundant
watering and diligent mulching will save the trees.
It should be carefully remembered that the evergreen families do not
possess the vitality of deciduous trees, and are more easily injured or
killed by removal. The roots of the former are more sensitive to
exposure to dry air and to sunlight; and much more certainty of life
and growth is secured if the transfer can be accomplished in cloudy or
rainy weather. The roots should never be permitted to become dry, and
it is well also to sprinkle the foliage at the time of planting.
Moreover, do not permit careless workmen to save a few minutes in the
digging of the trees. Every fibrous root that can be preserved intact
is a promise of life and vigor. If a nurseryman should send me an
assortment of evergreens with only the large woody roots left, I should
refuse to receive the trees.
What I have said in opposition to the transplanting of large trees
applies with greater force to evergreens. Mr. Hoopes writes: "An error
into which many unpracticed planters frequently fall is that of
planting large trees; and it is one which we consider opposed to sound
common-sense. We are aware that the owner of every new place is anxious
to produce what is usually known as an immediate effect, and therefore
he proceeds to plant large evergreens, covering his grounds with great
unsightly trees. In almost every case of this kind the lower limbs are
apt to die, and thus greatly disfigure the symmetry of the trees.
Young, healthy plants, when carefully taken up and as properly
replanted, are never subject to this disfigurement, and are almost
certain to form handsome specimens."
Any one who has seen the beautiful pyramids, cones, and mounds of green
into which so many varieties develop, if permitted to grow according to
the laws of their being, should not be induced to purchase old and
large trees which nurserymen are often anxious to part with before they
become utterly unsalable.
When the evergreens reach the acre, plant them with the same care and
on the same general principles indicated for other trees. Let the soil
be mellow and good. Mulch at once, and water abundantly the first
summer during dry periods. Be sure that the trees are not set any
deeper in the ground than they stood before removal. If the soil of the
acre is heavy or poor, go to the roadside or some old pasture and find
rich light soil with which to fill in around the roots. If no soil can
be found without a large proportion of clay, the addition of a little
sand, thoroughly mixed through it, is beneficial. The hole should be
ample in size, so that the roots can be spread out according to their
natural bent. If the ground after planting needs enriching, spread the
fertilizer around the trees, not against them, and on the surface only.
Never put manure on or very near the roots.
Fine young seedling evergreens can often be found in the woods or
fields, and may be had for the asking, or for a trifling sum. Dig them
so as to save all the roots possible. Never permit these to become dry
till they are safe in your own grounds. Aim to start the little trees
under the same conditions in which you found them in Nature. If taken
from a shady spot, they should be shaded for a season or two, until
they become accustomed to sunlight. This can easily be accomplished by
four crotched stakes supporting a light scaffolding, on which is placed
during the hot months a few evergreen boughs.
Very pretty and useful purposes can often be served by the employment
of certain kinds of evergreens as hedges. I do not like the arbitrary
and stiff divisions of a small place which I have often seen. They take
away the sense of roominess, and destroy the possibility of pretty
little vistas; but when used judiciously as screens they combine much
beauty with utility. As part of line fences they are often eminently
satisfactory, shutting out prying eyes and inclosing the home within
walls of living green. The strong-growing pines and Norway spruce are
better adapted to large estates than to the area of an acre. Therefore
we would advise the employment of the American arbor vitae and of
hemlock. The hedge of the latter evergreen on Mr. Fuller's place formed
one of the most beautiful and symmetrical walls I have ever seen. It
was so smooth, even, and impervious that in the distance it appeared
like solid emerald.
The ground should be thoroughly prepared for a hedge by deep plowing or
by digging; the trees should be small, young, of even height and size,
and they should be planted carefully in line, according to the
directions already given for a single specimen; the ground on each side
mulched and kept moist during the first summer. In the autumn, rake the
mulch away and top-dress the soil on both sides for the space of two or
three feet outward from the stems with well-decayed manure. This
protects the roots and ensures a vigorous growth the coming season.
Allow no weeds or even grass to encroach on the young hedge until it is
strong and established. For the first year no trimming will be
necessary beyond cutting back an occasional branch or top that is
growing stronger than the others; and this should be done in early
October. During the second season the plants should grow much more
strongly; and now the shears are needed in summer. Some branches and
top shoots will push far beyond the others. They should be cut back
evenly, and in accordance with the shape the hedge is to take. The
pyramidal form appears to me to be the one most in harmony with Nature.
In October, the hedge should receive its final shearing for the year;
and if there is an apparent deficiency of vigor, the ground on both
sides should receive another top-dressing, after removing the summer
mulch. As the hedge grows older and stronger, the principal shearing
will be done in early summer, as this checks growth and causes the
close, dense interlacing of branches and formation of foliage wherein
the beauty and usefulness of the hedge consist.