A few days since (June 8), visiting Prof. J. P. Kirt-land, I saw in his grounds a seedling magnolia from the conspicua. In habit of growth it was about with purpurea, a little more upright, and with flowers about two thirds as large as conspicua, and the petals a pure clear white, but not opening until about a week or ten days later. It promises a valuable acquisition to be embraced in first-class shrubs. F. R. E.

Mr. Editor : As the young mathematician finds mistakes in his arithmetic, and detects the errors of Butler or Pinneo, so we beginners in horticulture discover inconsistencies in Downing and Fuller. They teach that if a tree is heavy laden with fruit this year, its vitality will be so taxed to perfect it that few or no fruit buds will be formed for the next. My neighbor, Richard Gosney, has a tree in his orchard which seemingly was not exhausted by excessive growth, yet stood year after year without fruiting. But three years ago, while Ezra Hicks was hauling a load of hay out of the orchard, one branch was badly injured. The next year that branch was literally full of apples, while the balance of the tree was barren as before.

Of course the hay should not have been in the orchard; but you need not speak of that, as I intend to scold Uncle Dick for it when next I see him. And the Ezra Hicks above spoken of is no kin to the Hick's Apple, but a good fellow for all that Well, I know several other examples that seem to conflict with theory, but lest I get picked up on them, like the boys that find mistakes in their lessons, I will not mention them now. You see, this is a new business to me, though when I was a hoy my father often complained that my mania for tree setting made necessary a job of grubbing everv year. But now I have a patch of hills of my own, and having a little leisure, intend to have my fun out Said land is beautiful to look upon.

The hills go up to the clouds most, and the hollows so deep that the sun never shines in them. It looks romantic - decidedly - unless a man feels concerned about his bread and butter; then it seems more, formidable than picturesque.

When the timber is deadened, or cut off, the bushes come up as thick as the hairs on a dog's back. The soil is not deep enough, nor rich enough, to brag much about; but any land that can sprout hop-poles like this will grow peach-trees. So I set out three hundred budded trees last fall while the ground was in fine condition, and they are making a splendid growth. I also set nine hundred this spring - budded - most of which are living, but not doing half so well as those set in the fall. Had it not been for the excessive rains, no doubt many would have died.

I speak of them as being budded, from the fact that they are considered a very unsafe investment in this country, while seedlings average about three crops in five years. Budded trees are all full this year. I have an acre planted in seeds, and shall plant them as seedlings this fall, except a few to be budded with nectarines and almonds.

By the way, I read an article in an old number of the Prairie Farmer (about 1858) from some man near St. Louis, who said that almonds would grow there. So, three years ago, I procured two trees, one of which came near dying; but the other made a splendid growth, and is now as full of fruit as it can hold - as full as a peach-tree.

On this land, beside the bushes which come up so thickly in old deadenings, wild grapevines also spring forth, and make a perfect tangle. These vines, about every other year, are full of grapes; and people go miles to get them, and call them good. Can't say that I like them; but their presence and productiveness under difficulties led me to hope that better kinds might do well. Speaking of these wildlings reminds me of an anecdote told me to-day, showing that the taste of our people is not well educated in the matter of grapes. The gentleman relating it had a splendid lot of Dela-wares, and also some fine Concords, and took a basketful of each to market, but found it very difficult to dispose of the samples, even, at a very low rate. People admired them as something of a show; but what use to pay eight or ten cents a pound for them when the woods are full of wild ones for nothing ? He finally came across a friend, a banker, I think, who concluded to take one basket, and was told that he might have his choice at the same price; and, after tasting carefully, expressed himself highly in favor of the Concords!

Having had symptoms of grape fever repeatedly, I read Husmann's book, and it took a deep set. Had a piece of old deadening grubbed out, and being too full of stumps, and rather steep to plow to advantage, I had holes dug with a spade, wide, but shallow, and having them partly filled, set the roots near the top, and shall have the spaces between spaded up. I do not give this mode with the expectation that future generations will adopt it, but that it may go on record. With reference to the final result: the wild vines are upon the very surface; and if they can grow ten or fifteen feet in a year, Concords ought to grow some.

I have planted eight hundred one-year-old vines in this manner, and they are making a fine start, scarcely one failing to grow. But I went out a few days ago to break off all the buds, except one or two, and found the whole earth covered with locusts; and as they were letting-in rather heavily on the young vines, I concluded to withdraw my services until I shall see what these things are going to leave. By - the - by, I feel interested about their proceedings, and will stop this epistle to go and see; but I don't want to sign my name to it, for there are some people who would think I had better be attending to my old business. The names significant of the horticultural profession are already assumed by different writers, except, perhaps, it is the word "Amateur" Horticulturist, which is certainly a very pretty name, but is awarded, by general consent, to the older and more eminent members of the profession. Come to think, Immature Horticulturist sounds nearly as well, and is so much more appropriate that I will adopt it as my nam de plume.

There is no need of being over-particular. If a name sounds well, and is appropriate, that ought to be sufficient.

With the eagerness characteristic of new converts, I sign myself,

Fraternally yours, Immature Horticulturist.

Central Indiana, May 38,1868.