Although the culture of the pear on the quince is gradually extending, and though, under favorable circumstances, each year brings new evidence of its practicability, the cry with many still is, "it never will succeed." If the trees do well for a few years, they will be so small they never can produce much, and in a few years will soon die off.

In my early days, tree planting was a hobby with me, and I rode it until the highway through the ancestral premises was well lined by trees of different species; and when the work was done, I regretted that there was no more territory to occupy, because the trees of the wood were not all represented in our home-made avenue. How often was I told then that our labor was vanity; that my trees would not live, or, if they did, they would never come to any size in my day. In part, the prediction was verified. Through my boyish inexperience (no other cause whatever), a few of them died; with the fall of the leaf, however, their places were supplied, so that soon every niche was fully and beautifully occupied. Now these trees are tall and stately. Youth would call them old trees; they are admired by all. Many a traveller, on a sultry day, has found them a blessing. When the tempest roars, and the storm beats down, they are a protection to the adjoining lands; but those far-seeing economists that folded their hands, and pitied my folly, and warned me by their kind counsels, when, with toil and sweat, I planted out these trees, hare no such beautiful creations of their own to look upon.

No; " I wish I had such rows of trees, and if I had known I would have planted." Now, is it altogether improbable that similar results will yet show themselves in the matter of dwarf pear culture?

The winter of 1856-7, taken in its length and breadth, was the most trying one for fruit-trees we have ever known. Apple, cherry, and plum-trees, suffered from its rigors, and were seen in unusual numbers, standing naked through the shooting forth of spring and verdure of summer; yet, in a plantation of sixty dwarf pears, I lost but a single tree, and this not from the fact of its being a pear on the quince, nor from the undue severity of the season, by any means. On the contrary, our dwarfs came out as uninjured, so far as I can judge, as so many young mountain oaks; all of the fifty-nine remaining trees have made all desirable growth. On several, I have measured well-matured shoots of the last year's growth more than four feet long, which is all a reasonable cultivator can ask. Some have borne fruit enough to pay their first cost, if it had been marketed, but it was too good to sell, and quite good enough to eat.

Thus much I have spoken from the experience of the past. 1 take courage from it, and anticipate a triumphant future. But in speaking of my success, I have said nothing of the soil and management - two items in fruit growing of special importance, but which are quite too much passed over in talking about trees.

First, then, the soil. This rests on a bed of limestone (so far as we know) of impenetrable depth. Over this is a firm, hard pan or clay subsoil, and, uppermost, a clayey loam.

Before planting the trees, and as a preparatory work, I spaded the ground full ten inches deep, and, as far as possible, inverted it - i. e., put the top soil at the bottom, and brought up a new soil, never before disturbed by plough or spade. The land was in good cultivation, but no manure was applied the year the trees were planted out. The trees were obtained mainly from the reliable nursery of Messrs. Ellwanger & Barry, of Rochester, N. Y. In making the order, I was not particular to call for large trees; only good roots, with reliable tops. The trees were received in April, and planted out, so that the junction of the stock and scion should be as low as the surface. I kept the soil clean, with the hoe, around the trees (other crops being on the land, but not near enough to interfere with the trees), and this was all the attention I gave them until autumn. Of course, no watering was given when they were planted, or at any time during the summer, some part of which was dry. In autumn, I put probably a bushel of well rotted manure around each tree. This served to protect the most tender part (the point where budded) from extreme cold, and turned off surplus water from heavy rains and melting snows.

In the spring, this manure is taken away from the body of the tree, and spread so that the extending roots will have the benefit of it. I spade our ground, yearly, as near to the tree as we can without interfering with the roots, and subject the surface to frequent stirring through the summer.

I have been thus particular, that none may be led astray in this matter of dwarf culture - a system in which, on proper soils, and with proper varieties, I have much confidence; yet I doubt much if it will succeed on all soils to the satisfaction or profits of the cultivator. Nor do I think it adapted to all varieties.

With as, some kinds do much better than others, though we have no particular reason to complain of any kind we have tried. Nor will it answer for all cultivators. There certainly are those who think, judging from their actions, that when a tree is set, their whole duty is done. No wonder that, with them, putting out trees don't pay. They may surely expect that their trees will die in self-defence. All fruit-trees require watching and care, and especially so the dwarf; but it is a pleasant care, and a watching that does not fatigue. The full reward follows the labor.