CONFESSIONS OF A PRUNER.

Taranaki Daily News, 25 January 1918, Page 6

CONFESSIONS OF A PRUNER.

(By VVm. Knight Brottn, Tariki). Tor several years I have been wandering in various parts of Sew Zealand, (-'leaning up shrubberies and plantations, and pruning fruit trees. Tliis kind of work was rather forced upon me for reasons of health, but the occupation suits my mental calibre and physical condition, it is clean, useful, and pleasant work. To keep my knowledge of the subject up to date requires a good deal of study, both theoretical and practical. It is a living (not luxurious, but sullieientl, and it helps to bring me into contact with that finest of all volumes, "AH sorts and conditions of people." Many years ago, when I first acquired land of my own, I became interested in the subject of pruning, and took lessons in the art from a working gardener. I wondered how it was that there were no books on the subject, but a few inquiries showed me that there were large libraries about this and such kindred subjects as gardening and forestry written in the languages of all civilised nations. And having started with a small book on the pruning of apple trees, I accumulated, in the course of years, a library which is now so large as to 'be rather an embarrassment. Trees arc required and planted for so many purposes, fruit, shelter, ornament, timber, firewood, and I encountered a settler a year or two ago who was growing oak trees so that lie would have acorns to feed his pigs with. I know nothing about acornfed pork. I am told that it is common enough in the Balkan States. My notion of acorns is that they are too astringent to be fattening. I have known fowls and ducks to be fed on aeorns, and the yolk of the egg was black instead of yellow. The owner of the birds was afraid to set any of the eggs lest the young Aylesburys and White Leghorns should hatch out black. Would they? Jn regard to plantations of ornamental and timber trees, I find that the general rule is to plant, and then neglect. Every now and then the owner strolls through his planVtions, wondering why his neglected trees are not flourishing. As often as not. he will blame the nurseryman for selling inferior goods. He seldom realises that long grass, fern, trees, too close or not close enough together, dead wood, superfluous 'branches, ani only too often the lack of a leadin. stem, are the result of his own neglect. But then, your farmer is always a busy man. So many things tllat are bringing in cash require immediate attention, and ns trees are always slow in producing a ca"h profit they are relegated to subordinate consideration, and ultimately to oblivion. T know of a plantation of oaks, in which the trees had been planted so far apart that they show but sligiht disposition to grow upward. All the trees are weighted with lateral branches, which can never be fit for anything but firewood, though the plantation was intended for timber, and the ground is overgrown with fern four feet high. All such weeds do the trees immense harm. The virtue that they evtract from the soil ought to go into timber, and nothing else And moreover ferns are most dangerous weeds to leave for a few years, because of the risk of fire. I know of a fine plantation of pines in the Marlborough district, in which fern had been allowed to grow. One very hot. dry. and windy day, a match v;as accidentally dropped and in half an hour the growth of about eigjit years was annihilated- In moving about Taranaki I have often seen long, drv grasses flourishing in the plantation. Dry weather, liieh wind, and a match—and how about tb" poor trees? Owners of orchards, of course, I do not mean large orchards, whose owners are specialising on fruit, if such are not kept clean they cannot be profitable. I refer to the farmer who plants a. few fruit trees to hclo Wie family economy. Such small orchards are usually kept in grass, to save the trouble of keeping the ground clean, and the grass is year after year mown for hay, and as hay is an exhausting crop we need not be surprised that the trees produce butr little fruit, and that in the course of a few years most of the tre?s are dead. And the grass harbors all kinds of pests, and in localities inflicted with codlin moth the ground round an apple tree should be kept absolutely clean. I "have noticed this neglect more in dairying localities than anywhere else. Growth is so rapid. You have no sooner pulled up a weed than it grows again more vigorously than ever. The cows and their requirements occupy everybody's time, early and late, so—except to eat it—there is no time to attend to such a small affair as the fruit. Neither the farmer nor his hands have been educated in orchard or plantation work, and skilled labor is not low priced. I have been offered less than a living wage, on the plea that tree clipping and lopping are such easy work. Experience and education go for nothing: anybody ear, cut a branch off a. tree and what is the good when it is done? Xext year the shape of the tree will be just as awkward and so forth. And such argumentation is almost unanswerable because, I suppose homo sapiens, be he ever so wise, is not necessarily reasonable. I have in mind an aipple tree which possessed a very feeble leading stem. Tt had also a bough which was as substantial as the trunk. No array of argument would induce the owner to let me sacrifice that bought to save the tree, so I had to leave the unhappy thing to be ruined bv the economy of ignorance. Most forest trees grow boughs which die. and should be removed at once. People who take this trouble very soon appreciate the saving in regard to firewood, but generally such boughs are left on the tree until they are as rotten as the proverbial touchwood, and so fit for nothing. And this clearing work, which is good for the trees, can be done at any season of the year. As to the fruit trees, for many years I have advised summer pruning. Why let a tree grow fishing-rods, which only have to be sacrificed In the winter? But ttien nobody can spare any time for summer pruning, and in the winter T have to be sent for. to cut away what nature has produced with such prodigality. In these northern districts, with their lemons and oranges. I notice great ignorance of the most clementnry principles of citrus culture —grs>ss and weeds growing under the trees; superfluous branches crossed and laced so as to exclude light and air, and even farmyard manure applied to the roots, and the owners wondering why the leaves are discolored, why tliere is no fruit, and why the borer is so busy. Another of my sorrows is the fungoids, lichens, and mosses growing on the trees themselves. But more of this would be a weariness to you and your readers: and let me in for an attack of the blues.