With a view to refresh my memory on fruits, and to see if, in my practice of landscape gardening, I had by any possibility got behind the age, I recently packed up a few traps in a little carpet sack; my good wife put up some cold meat, fowl, and bread and butter; a friend gave me a bottle of dry Catawba wine wherewith I took seat in the cars for a visit among the pomologists of the East, and a look over and through the many elegant residences and grounds of the North and East Rivers, and so on east to Boston. I shall not undertake to tell all I saw, for, like some old country gardeners, I think, if I tell, it will be giving away knowledge which has cost me dollars to obtain.

I will, however, tell you of a wild, yet cultivated place that I saw in Springfield, Mass., owned and resided on, by George M. Atwater, Esq. A house in the Anglo-Italian style, unlike any other that I ever saw, is built on the very brow of a hill, from which commanding views of the city, the broad Connecticut River, Mount Tom, and various other mountains and hills are obtained. The entrance is from a plain through a natural wood, where the road even although good, yet presents the natural, not artificial, appearance, until, as you approach the house, of which glimpses are occasionally obtained, you come upon view of a smooth, clean, open lawn, and enter upon a smooth, clean, artificially-made roadway. As I said, the house is situated upon a bold point of a hill, and all around it, say fifty to one hundred feet, with the exception of the lawn in front, comes up the wilderness of oaks, birches, pines, beeches, ash, maples, hemlocks, etc. Some tall, erect, towering one hundred and fifty feet in their grandeur, with their many arms outstretched; others slender and graceful in their foliage, swaying body and branches to the breeze. An undergrowth in some places almost becoming a thicket, in others just enough to allow each bush to show its garniture of foliage and flower.

Here azaleas, kalmias, rhododendrons, etc, are in their natural homes, and abound. Many a group that others would readily give a hundred or more dollars for, are here growing in their natural seed bed, the beauty of which requires only to be seen to be appreciated. Many other elegant places are to be found around Springfield; but, as a general thing, while they have expended liberally, true taste and judgment, combining knowledge of foliage, habit, and growth of tree and shrub, together with the laws of light and shade, to produce pleasing effect, have not been used in their forming. I saw few places where grouping had been made with any more judgment and knowledge than in Central Park, New York, where every one at all conversant with the subject agrees that, however well and perfect the roads and masonry, most egregious blunders have been made in the planting.

But perhaps I have said enough; if not careful, some reader may think I am half "hold" country myself, and think there is nothing like what we have around Cleveland.

In and around Boston; what a place. Just suits me. Fine buildings; pleasant homelike places; elegant country seats, with grand lawns, extensive green and grape houses; but, more than all, men - men who can, and will, and love to talk of fruits and flowers; of rock and rivulet; even while, as it were, engaged in the daily drudgery of money-making. I stepped in here, I stepped in there, and took a look. I called on this man, and on that; and now I'll tell you a little of what I saw when I called on C. M. Hovey at his garden. Here, let me show you a beautiful weeping beech twisting, twining, dropping, yet erect - the most graceful, yet absurd tree, that, like a country gawk, always makes you pleased in spite of yourself when you look at it. Next, see this weeping, cut-leaved birch - graceful, pendulous, each leaf daintily cut; glossy; and on its pensile, spray or twigs waving airily, like feathers. Here is the Kilmarnock, and there the new American willow; both graceful, but low-growing; decided weepers; suited more to the cemetery than elsewhere. Here the weeping poplar, that is beautiful while young, but gains stateli-ness with its years, until its beauty as a drooping tree is measurably lost.

Here well, its no use going through the catalogue; but here, let me tell you, you can see well-grown specimens of everything enumerated in Leroy or Duvasse, in Hovey or Phoenix; and if you go there, don't fail to go through the plant-houses; even if you do not always choose to live in the tropics, it harms no one to see, from time to time, the many beautiful plants gathered therefrom. Over the way, across the street, you are among pear trees by the thousand; tall, yet pyramidal; so that, although standing within about eight feet of each other, they do not trouble their neighbors. Branches carefully pruned out; some of those inclined to be too rampant have their heads taken off, setting them back a little, like the boy that behaved bad, and had again to stand at table; but their bodies are all clean scraped, and all evincing health. That, together with the hundreds of other specimens in the gardens and vicinity of Boston, can but convince any doubter that pear-growing is not a difficult matter, provided they choose to give ordinary common sense brains to the subject.

Mr. Hovey still keeps his magazine going, and to it we of the West are mainly indebted for the knowledge of the doings and sayings of that most valuable of all societies - the Massachusetts Horticultural.