eter, are separated by belts or groups of fir and oak intermingled. Growing in more open spaces than the forest affords, and in a soil of great richness, these trees have attained perfection in size and form. Never have we beheld more truly "Arcadian" groves. It strikes us as a sort of profanation that the farmer at whose house we stop, has allowed one of these grand forest cathedrals to be used as a shelter for his stock, and so to become defiled. Indubitably this is not a utilitarian, nor even a humanitarian view; and the farmer showed care for his cattle, where we should have shown care for the trees. Yet, were not sheds good enough for creatures that are born and die in half a dozen years? and should they be allowed to bring to grief these giants of centuries old?
This county is one of the oldest-settled portions of the State, as the farming improvements show. A large surplus of grain is raised annually, which is wagoned to Portland, or Springville, and there shipped to California, the Sandwich Islands, or some port on the South American coast. The West Side Railroad will soon put an end to the wagoning of grain, and will revive the cultivation of fruit, which has been discontinued on account of the cost and loss of transporting it to a market.
One of the pests of Oregon farming is a large, coarse fern—compound or branching (Pteris aquilina)—which is common to the forests, and which encroaches on the improved lands contiguous to them. It is very difficult to eradicate, the roots penetrating to a great depth, and being very tough and strong. Wherever it is found, however, the soil is sure to be good, and more especially adapted to fruit than the exempt prairie. Fern troubles the farmer on the Tualatin Plains, in
