Part 49

PRUNING ORCHARDS.

The habit of early spring pruning has been handed down to us from English customs, and farmers do it because it always has been done. Besides, about this time, men have leisure, and would like to begin the season’s work; and pruning seems quite a natural employment with which to introduce the labors of the year.

It is not possible for America, but more emphatically for western cultivators to do worse than to pattern upon the example of British and Continental authorities in the matter of orchards and vineyards. The summers of England are moist, cool, and deficient in light. Our summers are exactly the reverse—dry, fervid, and brilliant. The stimuli of the elements with them are much below, and with us much above par. In consequence, their trees have but a moderate growth; ours are inclined to excessive growth.

Their whole system of open-culture, and wall-training is founded upon the necessity of husbanding all their resources. To avail themselves of every particle of light, they keep open the heads of their trees, so that the parsimonious sunshine shall penetrate every part of the tree. Let this be done with us, and there are many of our trees that would be killed by the force of the sun’s rays upon the naked branches in a single season, or very much enfeebled. For the same general reasons, the English reduce the quantity of bearing-wood, shortening a part or wholly cutting it out, that the residue, having the whole energy of the tree concentrated upon it, may perfect its fruit. Our difficulty being an excess of vitality, this system of shortening and cutting out, would cause the tree to send out suckers from the root and trunk, and would fill the head of the tree with rank water-shoots or gourmands. What would be thought of the people of the torrid zone should they borrow their customs of clothing from the practice of Greenland? It would be as rational as it is for orchardists, in a land whose summers are long and of high temperature, to copy the customs of a land whose summers are prodigal of fog and rain, but penurious of heat and light.

Except to remove dead, diseased or interfering branches, do not cut at all.

But if pruning is to be done, wait till after corn-planting. The best time to prune is the time when healing will the quickest follow cutting. This is not in early spring, but in early summer. The elements from which new wood is produced are not drawn from the rising sap, but from that which descends between the bark and wood. This sap, called true sap, is the upward sap after it has gone through that chemical laboratory, the leaf. Each leaf is a chemical contractor, doing up its part of the work of preparing sap for use, as fast as it is sent up to it from the root through the interior sap-passages. In the leaf, the sap gives off and receives, certain properties; and when thus elaborated, it is charged with all those elements required for the formation and sustentation of every part of vegetable fabric. Descending, it gives out its various qualities, till it reaches the root; and whatever is left then passes out into the soil.

Every man will perceive that if a tree is pruned in spring before it has a leaf out, there is no sap provided to repair the wound. A slight granulation may take place, in certain circumstances, and in some kinds of plants, from the elements with which the tree was stored during the former season; but, in point of fact, a cut usually remains without change until, the progress of spring puts the whole vegetable economy into action.

In young and vigorous trees, this process may not seem to occasion any injury. But trees growing feeble by age will soon manifest the result of this injudicious practice, by blackened stumps, by cankered sores, and by decay.

If one must begin to do something that looks like spring-work, let him go at a more efficient train of operations. With a good spade invert the sod for several feet from the body of the tree. With a good scraper remove all dead bark. Dilute (old) soft soap with urine; take a stiff shoe-brush, and go to scouring the trunk and main branches. This will be labor to some purpose; and before you have gone through a large orchard faithfully, your zeal for spring-work will have become so far tempered with knowledge, that you will be willing to let pruning alone till after corn-planting.

Two exceptions or precautions should be mentioned.

1. In the use of the wash; new soap is more caustic than old; and the sediments of a soap barrel much more so than the mass of soap. Sometimes trees have been injured by applying a caustic alkali in too great strength. There is little danger of this when a tree is rough and covered with dead bark or dirt; but when it is smooth and has no scurf it is more liable to suffer. Trees should not be washed in dry and warm weather. The best time is just before spring rains, or before any rain.

2. Where fruit-trees are found to have suffered from the winter, pruning cannot be too early, and hardly too severe. If left to grow, the heat of spring days ferments the sap and spreads blight throughout the tree; whereas, by severe cutting, there is a chance, at least, of removing much of the injured wood. We have gone over the pear-trees in our own garden, and wherever the least affection has been discovered, we have cut out every particle of the last summer’s wood; and cut back until we reached sound and healthy wood, pith and bark.

SLITTING THE BARK OF TREES.

This is a practice very much followed by fruit-raisers. Downing gives his sanction to it. Mr. Pell (N. Y.), famous for his orchards, includes it as a part of his system of orchard cultivation. Men talk of trees being bark-bound, etc., and let out the bark on the same principle, we suppose, as mothers do the pantaloons of growing boys. We confess a prejudice against this letting out of the tucks in a tree’s clothes. We do not say that there may not be cases of diseased trees in which, as a remedial process, this may be wise; but we should as soon think of slitting the skin on a boy’s legs, or on a calf’s or colt’s, as a regular part of a plan of rearing them, as to slash the bark of sound and healthy trees. Bark-bound! what is that? Does the inside of a tree grow faster than the outside? When bark is slit, is it looser around the whole trunk than before? When granulations have filled up this artificial channel, is not the bark just as tight as it was before? Mark, we do not say that it is not a good practice; but only that we do not yet understand what the benefit is.

“Why, the bark bursts sometimes.”

Yes, disease may thus affect it; and when it does, cut if necessary.

“Does it do any harm?” Perhaps not; neither would it to put a weathercock on the top of every tree; or to bury a black cat under the roots, or to mark each tree with talismanic signs. Is it worth while to do a thing just because it does no harm?

“But when a tree is growing too fast, does it not need it?” Yes, if it can be shown that the bark, alburnum, etc., do not increase alike. That excitement which increases the growth of one part of a tree will, as a general fact, increase the growth of every other. In respect to the fruit and seed, doubtless, particular manures will develop special properties. But is there evidence that such a thing takes place in respect to the various tissues of the wood, bark, etc?

“But if a tree be sluggish, and bound, will it not help it?” Whatever excites a more vigorous circulation will be of advantage. Whether any supposed advantage from the knife arises in this way, we do not know. But a good scraping, or a scouring off of the whole body with sand, and then a pungent alkaline wash—(soft soap diluted with urine) would, we think, be better for bark-bound trees than the whole tribe of slits, vertical, horizontal, zig-zag, or waved.

* * * * *

HOVEY’S MAGAZINE OF HORTICULTURE.—We recommend all who can afford three dollars a year for a sterling monthly, beautifully got up, in the best style of Boston typography, to send to Boston for Hovey’s Magazine. We give it an unqualified recommendation, and those who take it one year will be loth to part with it.

DOWNING’s FRUIT AND FRUIT-TREES OF AMERICA.

When a book is hopelessly weak or incorrect, it should be the object of criticism to exterminate it. But when a work is admitted to be, upon the whole, well done, criticism ought to be an assistance to it, and not a hindrance. Praise by the wholesale is better for the publisher than for the reputation of the author; since, in a work like Downing’s, every pomologist knows that perfection is not attainable, and indiscriminate eulogy inclines the better-read critic to rebut the praise by a full development of the faults. Thus on one side there as general praise and faint blame; and on the other, faint praise and general blame.

We shall, at present, confine our attention to the catalogue of apples and pears, for all other fruits of our zone together are not of importance equal to these; and if an author excels in respect to these, his success will cover a multitude of sins in the treatment of small fruits, and fruits of short duration. Mr. Downing has shown good judgment in making out his list of varieties; his descriptions, for the most part, seem to be from his own senses; he has added many interesting particulars in respect to fruits not recorded before, or else scattered in isolated sentences in magazines and journals.

But are his descriptions thorough and uniform? While he has added materials to pomology, has he advanced the science by reducing such materials to a consistent form? If we compare Mr. Downing’s descriptions with those of Kenrick, or even of Manning, he excels them in fullness. If he be compared with classic European pomologists, he is decidedly inferior, both in the conception of what was to be done, and in a neat, systematic method of execution. Indeed, Mr. Downing does not seem to have settled, beforehand, in his mind, a formula of a description; sometimes only three or four characteristics are given. Downing sins in excellent company. There is not an American pomological writer who appears to have conceived, even, of a systematic, scientific description of fruits. European authors, decidedly more explicit and minute than we are, have never reduced the descriptive part of the science to anything like regularity. We do not suppose that there can be such exact and constant dissimilarities detected between variety and variety of a species, as exists between species and species of a genus. We do not think a description of fruits to be imperfect, therefore, merely because it is less distinctive than a description of plants. But the more variable and obscure the points of difference between two varieties, the more scrupulously careful must we be to seize them. Where differences are broad and uniform, science can afford to be careless, but not where they are vague and illusory. We can approximate a systematic accuracy. But it must be by making up in the number of determining circumstances, that which is wanting in the invariable distinctiveness of a few that are specific.

1. Downing’s descriptions are quite irregular and unequal. Both his pears and apples are imperfect, but not alike imperfect. The descriptions of pears are decidedly in advance of those of the apple. It would seem as if the improvement which he gained by practice was very easily traced in its course on his pages.

Hardly two apples are described in reference to the same particulars. With respect to color of skin, size and form, eye and stem, he approaches the nearest to uniformity. But with respect to every other feature there is an utter want of regularity, which indicates not so much carelessness as the want of any settled plan or conception of a perfect scientific description.

We will, out of a multitude of similar cases, select a few as specimens of what we mean. Of the Pumpkin Russet, he says, “flesh exceedingly rich and sweet;” but he does not speak of its texture, whether coarse or fine; whether brittle or leathery. Pomme de Neige—“flesh remarkably white, very tender, juicy and good, with a slight perfume;” but is it sweet or sour, or subacid, or astringent? No one can tell by reading the joint descriptions of the Red and the Yellow Ingestries what their flavor is, since it is only said that they are “juicy and high flavored”—but whether the high flavored juice is sweet or sour, does not appear. These are not picked instances. They occur on almost every page of his list of apples. The Summer Sweet Paradise is, of course, sweet, since we are three times told of it, once in the title and twice in the text. The SWEET Pearmain also, is a “sweet apple” “of a very saccharine flavor.” Of course it is sweet. Nos. 67, 68, 69, 74, 75, and very many more, are described without information as to their flavor except that, whatever it is, it is “brisk,” or “high,” or “rich”—forlorn adjectives unaffianced to any substantive which they may qualify. Sometimes the health of the tree and its hardiness are given, and as often omitted. Some times its habit of bearing is mentioned, but oftener neglected. The color of the flesh is given in No. 82, but not in 83; in 84, but not in 85; from 86-92 inclusive, but not to the second 92, for the Bedfordshire Foundling and the Dutch Mignonne are both numbered 92. The color of the flesh is not given in 93, 97, 100, 101, 103, 110, although the intermediate numbers have it given. Why should one be minutely described, and another not all? We should regard it an ungrateful requital for all the pleasure and profit which this volume has afforded us to hunt up and display what, to some, may seem to be mere “jots and tittles,” were it not that these, in themselves, unimportant things mark decisively the absence in the author’s plan, of a style of description which pomology always needed, but now begins imperiously to demand. And we are confident that a pomological manual on the right design, is yet to be written. Our hearty wish is, that Mr. Downing’s revised edition may be that manual.