We would call attention to one of the best examples of hardy landscape planting to be found in America. The view is taken from one of the lawns at Dosoris Island, the residence of Charles A. Dana, Glen Cove, Long Island. Although it is a private place, it deserves to rank among the educational institutions of our country, from the benefit horticulture has received from it by the careful, practical, enthusiastic and artistic manner in which it is carried on. Although the general public are more familiar with the beautiful productions from there that are exhibited at the shows, those who have been fortunate enough to visit the place itself know that it has a glory aside from that of the greenhouses and exotics.

Our view looks towards the north-northeast, over the blue waters of Long Island Sound, and some dozen miles beyond, not seen in our little picture, are the shores of West Chester, N. Y., and part of* Connecticut. On these broad waters pass in summer the finest yachts the world has known, and the variety of craft that give animation and interest to the scene at different times is as great as found any where. A growth of locusts, that came naturally from some planted here long before, mingled with the native growth and once shut off much of the beauty and interest of the scene. While it was desirable to retain some of this for protection and its own worth, much of it had to come away to make room for other things and show the beauties of the views beyond.

In cutting out an old and somewhat crowded growth, and uniting with it newer planting in a way to harmonize, we have one of the problems that often confront the landscape worker, and too frequently are beyond his skill. The successful way in which this has been done in the spot we are considering is worthy of particular attention.

Too often the problem is simplified by cutting down all of the old wood, instead of retaining with judgment part of it and nursing and training it into good form. The locust, never at its best nowadays, owing to the ravages of borers, is nevertheless useful in many situations where other trees will not grow; its young and feathery growth is delightful from its color and freshness, although never abundant ; the rough, broken and angular branches contrast well with other things, and the trunks of large trees have a rugged picturesqueness peculiarly their own. It has immense vitality, and thrives directly on the borders of salt water where many things refuse to grow. It has been found excellent here to plant on steep sandy banks to help bind them, and encourage the growth of grass, wild asters, etc., spreading its roots for long distances and retaining the light soil in position. The red cedar, too often despised, is one of the best of evergreens for the seashore, thriving with neglect and exposed to every blast.

It abounds naturally in this locality, and a few can be seen in our picture to the right just back of the other evergreens, their dark forms giving a tone and depth of color, among other things, that wonderfully help the scene and the delicate tints of sky and water beyond.

No abrupt line was left between the old and taller growing trees when the rest were cut away to disclose the view, and the dwarf evergreens were planted around and among them with rare judgement and skill, forming a rich border for the lawn and foreground for the view. The old hickory on the left, allowed room to develop, rises with the dignity and grace of an elm, and its toughness de-fies the fierceness of the northern gales that sweep unimpeded over miles of water. The tall white spruce next to it has had the advantage of some twenty-five or thirty years of growth, and its dense masses of thick foliage bear up against the icy winds of winter and summer's fiercest sun, although wanting protection in their early years. On a bleak exposure like this only the hardiest subjects could be used, and they were the mugho and dwarf white and Scotch pines and low junipers. On the south of these (the little cushion-like trees in front) are some dwarf Gregoriana and pigmy Norway spruces doing well. On the other sides they would have starved for want of sunshine and nourishment. The beautiful dwarf hemlock spruces, Hudson's Bay dwarf pine and dwarf yews are all useless on such an exposure, but all excellent when sheltered from the drying, biting winds.

Evergreens only look well in such a position, and they show their charms at all seasons. Deciduous shrubs of many kinds can often be happily used for banks of this sort, but in a spot exposed to the north and east like this the effect is never so tidy and pleasing as when the planting is solely of evergreens. The wonderful effects of color that can be given with evergreen growth, in our latitude even, is a delightful surprise in store for those not familiar with it. The broad mass of Douglas' golden juniper partly shown at the edge of the group, on the extreme right, appears like a bright gleam on a sombre bank. The effect is particularly pleasing as seen when driving over the road near the water's edge. These dwarf trees are never trimmed, requiring none. Their nature is as dense as it is possible for them to grow without choking, inclining always to breadth rather than to height. Once well started they are a constant pleasure.

A little picture in black and white of course fails to more than suggest the beauty of such a scene ; but it affords a valuable lesson in grouping, so little understood. We can give but a single view, but walking in front or among the trees a succession of beautiful effects is produced. From the piazza of the residence the view of the landscape and water is perfect; the low trees enhance its beauty, and do not impede it in the least.