erate height. Distinct it is in its
framework in winter, mayhap with the twisted pods of last season's
fruits hanging free; distinct again in its long-delayed late-coming
acacia-like foliage; but fragrant, elegant and beautiful, as well as
distinct, when in June it sets forth its long, drooping racemes of
whitest and sweetest flowers. These come only when warm weather is an
assured fact, and the wise Pennsylvania Germans feel justified in
awaiting the blooming of the locust before finally discarding their
winter underclothing!

For years a family of my knowledge has held it necessary, for its proper
conduct, to have in order certain floral drives. First the apple
blossom drive introduces the spring, and the lilac drive confirms the
impression that really the season is advancing; but the locust drive is
the sweetest of all, taking these nature lovers along some shady lanes,
beside the east bank of a great river, and in places where, the trees
planted only for the fence utility of the hard yellow wood, these
fragrant flowers, hanging in grace and elegance far above the highway,
have redeemed surroundings otherwise sordid and mean.

[Illustration: Flowers of the black locust]

I want Americans to prize the American locust for its real beauty. The
French know it, and show with pride their trifling imported specimens.
We cannot exterminate the trees, and there will be plenty for posts,
too; but let us realize its sweetness and elegance, as well as the
durability of its structure.

[Illustration: Young trees of the black locust]

There are fashions in trees, if you please, and the nurserymen set them.
Suddenly they discover the merits of some long-forgotten tree, and it
jumps into prominence. Thus, only a few years ago, the pin-oak came into
vogue, to the lasting benefit of some parks, avenues and home grounds.
Then followed the sycamore, but it had to be the European variety, for
our own native "plane tree," or "button-ball," is too plentiful and easy
to sing much of a tree-seller's song about. This Oriental plane is a
fine tree, however, and the avenue in Fairmount Park that one may see
from trains passing over the Schuylkill river is admirable. The bark is
mottled in green, and especially bright when wet with rain. As the
species is free from the attacks of a nasty European "bug," or fungus,
which is bothering the American plane, it is much safer to handle,
commercially.

But our stately American sycamore is in a di