The Hudson River Antwerp, the most celebrated foreign berry in America, is quite distinct from the above, although belonging to the same family. It is shorter and more slender in its growth, quite free from spines, and its canes are of a peculiar mouse-color. Its fruit is even larger, but firm, decidedly conical, not very bright when fully ripe, and rather dry, but sweet and agreeable in flavor. Mr. Downing says that its origin is unknown, and that it was brought to this country by the late Mr. Briggs, of Poughkeepsie, N.Y. "As this gentleman was leaving England" (thus the story is told, Mr. Downing writes to me), "he visited a friend to say good-by, and solicited this new raspberry. Since he was leaving the country, and could cause no injury to the sale of plants, his friend gave him a few in parting, although three guineas had been refused for a single plant hitherto, in the careful effort to secure a large stock before putting the variety on the market." Its name suggests Belgium as its original home.

This Antwerp continues long in bearing, and the berries begin to ripen early. The good carrying qualities of the fruit, combined with great productiveness, made it at one time the most profitable market berry in this section; but its culture was chiefly confined to a narrow strip on the west shore of the Hudson, extending from Cornwall to Kingston. For some obscure reasons, it did not thrive in other localities, and now it appears to be failing fast in its favorite haunt. A disease called the "curl-leaf" is destroying some of the oldest and largest plantations, and the growers are looking about for hardier and more vigorous varieties. But in its palmy days, and even still, the Hudson River Antwerp was one of the great productions of the country, sending barges and steamers nightly to New York laden with ruby cones, whose aroma was often very distinct on the windward shore while the boats were passing. This enormous business had in part a chance and curious origin, and a very small beginning; while the celebrated variety itself, which eventually covered so many hundreds of acres on the west bank of the Hudson, may be traced back through two lines of ancestry. An English gardener, who probably obtained the plants from Mr. Briggs, gave some of them to a Mr. Samuel Barnes, who resided in Westchester County. From him, Mr. Thos. H. Burling, of New Rochelle, N.Y., secured an abundant supply for his home garden. Here its value was observed by Mr. Nathaniel Hallock, who transferred some of the canes to his place at Milton, N. Y. From his garden they spread over many fields besides his own.

In respect to the other line of ancestry of this historical berry, I am indebted for the following facts to Mr. W. C. Young, of Marlboro', N. Y.: Many years ago a bundle of raspberry plants was left at a meat- market in Poughkeepsie, and Mr. Watters, the proprietor of the place, kept them several days, expecting that they would be called for. As they remained upon his hands, he planted them in his garden, where, like genuine worth, they soon asserted their superiority. Mr. Edward Young, of Marlboro', a relative of Mr. Watters, received a present of a few roots, which supplied his family with the largest and most beautiful berries he had ever seen. Good propagates itself as well as evil if given a chance, and Mr. Young soon had far more fruit than was needed by his family, and he resolved to try the fortunes of his favorite in New York market. "For this purpose," his son writes, "my father procured imported fancy willow baskets, holding about one pint each, and carefully packed these in crates made for the purpose. This mode proved a success, both in carrying them securely and in making them very attractive. The putting up such a fine variety of fruit in this way gave it notoriety at once, and it brought at first as much as one dollar per quart. My father was so well satisfied with his experiment that he advised his sons, Alexander, Edward and myself, to extend the culture of this variety largely. We entered into the business, and, pursuing it with diligence, were well compensated. Our success made others desirous of engaging in it, and so it spread out into its large dimensions." Mr. Alexander Young estimates that in the year 1858 1,000,000 pint baskets, or about 14,700 bushels, were shipped from Marlboro'; but adds that "since 1860 it has decreased as fast. From present appearances, the variety must become extinct, and I fear will never have its equal." Milton, Cornwall, New burgh, and other points competed in the profitable industry, and now, with Marlboro', are replacing the failing variety with other kinds more vigorous in growth, but thus far inferior in quality.

That the great industry is not falling off is shown by the following statement, taken from the New York "Tribune" in the summer of 1779: "The village of Highland, opposite Poughkeepsie, runs a berry boat daily to New York, and the large night steamers are now taking out immense loads of raspberries from the river towns every evening, having at times nearly 2,000 bushels on board."

From as careful a computation as I have been able to make, through the courtesy of the officers of the large Kingston boats the "Baldwin" and "Cornell," I am led to believe that these two steamers unitedly carried to the city over twenty thousand bushels of berries that same year. The magnitude of this industry on the Hudson will be still better realized when it is remembered that several other freight boats divide this traffic with the Kingston steamers.

When we consider what a delicate and perishable fruit this is, it can be understood that gathering and packing it properly is no bagatelle. Sometimes you will find the fruit grower's family in the field, from the matron down to the little ones that cannot reach the highest berries. But the home force is wholly insufficient, and any one who will pick—man, woman or child—is employed. Therefore, drifting through the river towns during June and July, are found specimens almost as picturesque, if not so highly colored, as those we saw at Norfolk—poor whites from the back country and mountains; people from the cities on a humble "lark," who cannot afford to rusticate at a hotel; semi-tramps, who have not attained to the final stage of aristocratic idleness, wherein the offer of work is an insult which they resent by burning a barn. Rude shanties, with bunks, are fitted up to give all the shelter they require. Here they lead a gypsy life, quite as much to their taste as camping in the Adirondacks, cooking and smoking through the June twilight, and as oblivious of the exquisite scenery about them as the onion-eating peasants of Italy; but when picking the fruit on a sunny slope, and half-hidden by the raspberry bushes, Nature blends them with the scene so deftly that even they become picturesque.

The little round "thirds," as they are termed, into which the berries are gathered, are carried out of the sunlight to sheds and barns; the packer receives them, giving tickets in exchange, and then, too often with the deliberation and ease induced by the summer heat, packs them in crates. As a result, there is frequently a hurry-scurry later in the day to get the berries off in time.

The Fastollf, Northumberland Fillbasket, and Knevett's Giant are fine old English varieties that are found in private gardens, but have never made their way into general favor.

The Franconia is now the best foreign variety we have. It was introduced from Paris by Mr. S. G. Perkins, of Boston, about thirty- seven years ago, and is a large, obtuse, conical berry, firm, thus carrying well to market, and although a little sour, its acid is of a rich, sprightly character. It is raised largely in Western New York, and in northern latitudes is one of the most profitable.

It is almost hardy in the vicinity of Rochester, receiving by some growers no winter protection. Its lack of hardiness with us, and further southward, is due to its tendency—common to nearly all foreign berries—to lose its foliage in August. I am inclined to think that it would prove one of the most profitable in Canada, and that if it were simply pinned down to the surface of the ground, and thus kept under the deep snows, it would rarely suffer from the cold. It should be distinctly understood that the climate of Canada, if winter protection is given—indeed, I may say, without protection—is far better adapted to tender raspberries than that of New Jersey, Virginia, or even Pennsylvania.

The long continuance of the Franconia in bearing is one of its best qualities. We usually enjoy its fruit for six weeks together. Its almost globular shape is in contrast with another excellent French variety, the Belle de Fontenay, a large, long, conical, but somewhat irregular-shaped berry of very superior flavor. Mr. Fuller says that it is entirely hardy. It survives the winter without protection on my grounds. The canes are very stocky and strong, and unless growing thickly together are branching. Its most marked characteristic, however, is a second crop in autumn, produced on the tips of the new canes. If the canes of the previous year are cut even with the ground early in spring, the new growth gives a very abundant autumn crop of berries, which, although much inclined to crumble in picking, and to be irregular in shape, have still the rare flavor of a delicious fruit long out of season. It certainly is the best of the fall-bearing kinds, and deserves a place in every garden. There are more profitable market varieties, however; but, if the suckers are vigorously destroyed, and the bearing canes cut well back, the fruit is often very large, abundant, and attractive, bringing the highest prices. As a plantation grows older, the tendency to sucker immoderately decreases, and the fruit improves.

The Belle de Pallua and Hornet are also French varieties that in some sections yield fine fruit, but are too uncertain to become favorites in our country.

I have a few canes of a French variety that Mr. Downing imported a number of years since, and of which the name has been lost. It certainly is the finest raspberry I have ever seen, and I am testing its adaptation to various soils.

Having named the best-known foreign varieties, I will now turn to R. Strigosus, or our native species, which is scattered almost everywhere throughout the North. In its favorite haunts by roadside hedge and open glade in the forest, a bush is occasionally found producing such fine fruit that the delighted discoverer marks it, and in the autumn transfers it to his garden. As a result, a new variety is often heralded throughout the land. A few of these wildings have become widely popular, and among them the Brandywine probably has had the most noted career.

Mr. William Parry, of New Jersey, who has been largely interested in this variety, writes to me as follows:

"I have never been able to trace the origin of this berry. It attracted attention some eight or ten years since in the Wilmington market, and was for a time called the 'Wilmington.'"

Subsequently Mr. Edward Tatnall, of that city, undertook to introduce it by the name of Susqueco, the Indian name for the Brandywine. It soon became the principal raspberry grown along the Brandywine Creek, and as the market-men would persist in calling it after its chief haunt, it will probably bear the historical name until it passes wholly out of favor. Its popularity is already on the wane, because of its dry texture and insipid flavor, but its bright color, good size, and especially its firmness and remarkable carrying qualities, will ever lead to its ready sale in the market. It is not a tall, vigorous grower, except in very rich land. The young canes are usually small, slender, of a pale red color, and have but few spines. Like nearly all the R. Strigosus species, it tends to sucker immoderately. If this disposition is rigorously checked by hoe and cultivator, it is productive; otherwise, the bearing canes are choked and rendered comparatively unfruitful. This variety is waning before the Cuthbert—a larger and much better berry.

The Turner is another of this class, and, in Mr. Charles Downing's opinion, is the best of them. It was introduced by Professor J. B. Turner, of Illinois, and is a great favorite in many parts of the West. It has behaved well on my place for several years, and I am steadily increasing my stock of it. I regard it as the hardiest raspberry in cultivation, and a winter must be severe, indeed, that injures it. Like the Crescent Seedling strawberry, it will grow anywhere, and under almost any conditions. The laziest man on the continent can have its fruit in abundance, if he can muster sufficient spirit to put out a few roots, and hoe out all the suckers except five or six in the hill. It is early, and in flavor surpasses all of its class; the fruit is only moderately firm. Plant a few in some out-of- the-way place, and it will give the largest return for the least amount of labor of any kind with which I am acquainted. The canes are very vigorous, of a golden reddish-brown, like mahogany, over which spreads in many places a purple bloom, like that on a grape, and which rubs off at the touch. It is almost free from spines, and so closely resembles the Southern Thornless in all respects that I cannot distinguish between them.

The Turner is a fine example of the result of persistent well-doing. After having been treated slightingly and written down at the East for ten years or more, it is now steadily winning its way toward the front rank. Mr. A. S. Fuller, who has tried most of the older varieties, says that he keeps a patch of it for his own use, because it gives so much good fruit with so little trouble.

I shall give its origin in Professor Turner's own words, as far as possible:

"Soon after I came to Illinois, in 1833, I obtained, through a friend from the East, some raspberries sold to me as the 'Red Antwerp.' I do not know or believe that there was at that time any other red raspberry within one hundred miles of this place. Indeed, I have never seen a native wild red raspberry in the State, though it may be there are some. I found the Antwerp would not stand our climate, but by extreme care I protected it one winter, and it bore some fruit. I conceived the idea of amusing my leisure hours from college duty by raising new seedling raspberries, strawberries, etc., that would be adapted to the climate of the State. I had only a small garden spot, no particular knowledge of the business, and no interest in it outside of the public good. I read upon the subject, as far as I then could, and planted and nursed my seedlings. Out of hundreds or thousands sown, I got one good early strawberry, which had a local run for a time; one fair blackberry, but no grapes or raspberries that seemed worth anything. The seeds of the raspberries were sown in a bed back of my house, and the shoots reserved were all nurtured on the same bed. After I supposed them to be a failure, I set out an arbor vitae hedge directly across the raspberry bed, making some effort to destroy the canes so that the little cedars might grow. Sometimes, when they were in the way of the cedars they were hoed out. If any of them bore berries, the fowls doubtless destroyed them, or the children ate them before they ripened, until the cedars got so high as to give them protection. Then the children found the ripe fruit, and reported it to me. I have not the least doubt but this raspberry came from a seed of the plants obtained from the East as the Red Antwerp. The original canes may have been false to name, or a mixture of the true and false. Whatever they were, they bore good, red berries, which I supposed to be Antwerps; but the canes were so tender as to be worthless. It is wholly impossible that the new variety should have come from any other seed than that sown by me where the vitae hedge now stands."

This letter is very interesting in showing how curiously some of our best varieties originate. Moreover, it suggests a dilemma. How is it possible that an Antwerp—one of the most tender varieties—could have been the parent of the hardiest known raspberry? How could a sort having every characteristic of our native R. Strigosus spring direct from R. Idoeus?

I have been familiar with the Antwerps all my life, and can see no trace of them in this hardy berry. Mr. A. S. Fuller writes to me, "The Turner is a true native—R. Strigosus;" and Mr. Charles Downing holds the same opinion. Hence I am led to believe that there was a native variety among the plants the professor obtained from the East, or that a seed of a native was dropped among the cedars by a bird, or brought thither in the roots of the cedars. Be this as it may, Professor Turner's good motives have been rewarded and he has given the public an excellent raspberry.

In connection with this subject, Mr. Fuller added the following fact, which opens to the amateur a very interesting field for experiment: "If there is any doubt in regard to such matters, raise a few seedlings of the variety, and if it is a cross or hybrid, a part of the seedlings will revert back to each parent, or so near them that there will be no difficulty in determining that there was a mixture of blood. If all our so-called hybrid fruits were thus tested, we would then know more of their true parentage." In the sunny laboratory of the garden, therefore, Nature's chemistry will resolve these juicy compounds back into their original constituents.

The Highland Hardy, or Native, also belongs to this species, and is quite a favorite still in some localities; but it has had its day, I think. Its extreme earliness has made it profitable in some regions; but its softness, small size and wretched flavor should banish it from cultivation as soon as possible.

There are others, like the Thwack, Pearl, and Bristol; they are but second rate, being inferior in most regions to the Brandywine, which they resemble.

In my opinion, the chief value of R. Strigosus is to be found in two facts. In the first place, they endure the severe Northern winters, and—what is of far more consequence—their best representatives thrive in light soils, and their tough foliage does not burn under the hot sun. It thus becomes the one species of red raspberry that can be raised successfully in the South, and from it, as a hardy stock, we should seek to develop the raspberries of the future.



CHAPTER XXII

RUBUS OCCIDENTALIS—BLACK-CAP AND PURPLE CANE RASPBERRIES

We now turn to the other great American species—Rubus Occidentalis —the well-known black-cap, or thimble berry, that is found along almost every roadside and fence in the land. There are few little people who have not stained their lips and fingers, not to mention their clothes, with this homely favorite. I can recall the days when, to the horror of the laundress, I filled my pockets with the juicy caps. It is scarcely necessary to recall its long, rambling, purple shoots, its light-green foliage, silvery on the under side, its sharp and abundant spines, from which we have received many a vicious scratch. Its cultivation is so simple that it may be suggested in a few sentences. It does not produce suckers, like R. Strigosus, but the tips of the drooping branches root themselves in the soil during August and September, forming young plants. These, planted, produce a vigorous bush the first year that bears the second season, and then dies down to the perennial root, as is the case with all raspberries. Usually, the tips of the young canes will take root, if left to themselves, unless whipped about by the wind. If new plants in abundance are desired, it is best to assist Nature, however, by placing a little earth on the tip just after it begins to enlarge slightly, thus showing it is ready to take root. This labor is quickly performed by throwing a handful or two of earth on the tips with a trowel. The tips do not all mature for propagation at one time; therefore, it is well to go over the plantation every two weeks after the middle of August and cover lightly with earth only such as are enlarged. If covered before this sign of readiness appears, the tip merely decays. If a variety is very scarce, we may cover not only the tips, but also much of the cane, lightly—an inch or two—with earth, and each bud will eventually make a plant. This should not be done, however, until the wood is well ripened, say about the first of October. Throw a few leaves over such layered canes in November, and divide the buds and roots into separate plants early in spring. They will probably be so small as to need a year in the nursery row. Sometimes, after the first tip is rooted, buds a little above it will push into shoots which also will root themselves with slight assistance, and thus the number of new plants is greatly increased. Spring is by far the best time, at the North, for planting these rooted tips; but it should be done as early as possible, before the bud has started into its brittle, succulent growth. At the South, November is probably the best season for planting. It is a species that adapts itself to most soils, even the lightest, and endures much neglect. At the same time, it responds generously to good culture and rigorous pruning, and if moisture is abundant the yield is simply enormous. It not only thrives far to the north, but can also be grown further south than any other class of raspberries.

In planting, spread out the roots and let them go down their full length, but do not put over an inch or two of soil on the bud from which the new canes are to spring. Press the earth firmly around this bud, but not on it. Let the rows be six feet apart, and the plants three feet from each other in the row; at this distance, 2,400 will be required for an acre. Summer pinching back will transform these sprawling, drooping canes into compact, stocky bushes, or ornamental shrubs that in sheltered locations will be self- supporting. Clean culture, and, as the plantation grows older, higher stimulation, greatly enhance success. After the plants begin to show signs of age and feebleness, it is best to set out young plants on new ground.

The varieties of this species are almost innumerable, since seedlings come up by the million every year; but the differences between the majority of them are usually very slight. There are four kinds, however, that have won honorable distinction and just popularity. The earliest of these is Davidson's Thornless, said to have originated in the garden of Mrs. Mercy Davidson, Towanda, Erie Co., N.Y. It is nothing like so vigorous a grower as the other three varieties; but the sweetness of the fruit and the freedom from thorns make it desirable for the home garden. Unless high culture or moist soil is given, I do not recommend it for market.

Next in order of ripening is the Doolittle, or American Improved, found growing wild, about thirty-five years since, by Leander Joslyn, of Phelps, Ontario Co., N.Y., and introduced by Mr. H. H. Doolittle. This, hitherto, has been the most popular of all the species, and thousands of bushels are annually raised for market. The plant is exceedingly vigorous, producing strong, branching canes that literally cover themselves with fruit. I have seen long rows fairly black with caps. Perhaps it should be stated that the thorns are vigorous also.

Latest in ripening is the Mammoth Cluster, or McCormick, which, thus far, has been my favorite. It is even more vigorous than the preceding, but not so briery or branching. The fruit is produced usually in a thick cluster or bunch at the end of the branch, and they ripen more together than the other kinds. The caps, too, are much larger, more juicy and fine-flavored. One is less conscious of the seeds. Between the thumb and finger you can often gather a handful from a single spray, it is so prodigiously productive. Thus far it has been unsurpassed, either for home use or market; but now it is encountering a rival in the Gregg, a new variety that is attracting much attention. Its history, as far as I have been able to learn it, is as follows:

In the latter part of June, 1866, this black raspberry was found growing wild in a ravine on the Gregg farm, which is located in Ohio Co., Indiana. The original bush "was bending under the weight of colossal-sized clusters. It was then a single clump, surrounded by a few young plants growing from its tips. Before introducing it to the public, we gave it a most thorough and complete trial. We have put it on the tables of some of the most prominent horticultural societies, and by each it has been voted the highest rank in their fruit lists. At the Centennial Exposition, at Philadelphia, in competition with all the prominent varieties in the world, it was ranked highest by the judges. During eleven years of observation it has survived the coldest winters, and never failed to yield an abundant crop. It is a vigorous, rapid grower, producing strong, well-matured canes by fall. The fruit is beautiful in appearance, delicious, possessing excellent shipping and keeping qualities."

The above is a mild and condensed statement of its claims, as set forth by Messrs. R. & P. Gregg, proprietors of the Gregg farm, and I believe these gentlemen have given a correct account of their experience. As the result of much inquiry, it would appear that this variety is also doing well throughout the country at large.

Mr. N. Ohmer, who has been most prominent in introducing the Gregg, gives the following account of his first acquaintance with it: "At a meeting of the Indiana State Horticultural Society, held at Indianapolis, a gentleman asked for the privilege of making some remarks about a new black raspberry that he was cultivating. Being pretty long-winded, as most lawyers are, he spoke so long, and said so much in favor of his berry, that no one believed him, and were glad when he got through. The summer following, I chanced to call on the Secretary of the Indiana State Board of Agriculture, in the Capitol building, and was surprised to see on his table about half a peck of berries and an armful of canes loaded with the largest, handsomest, and best black raspberries I had ever seen. Mr. Herron, the Secretary, informed me that they were grown by Messrs. R. & P. Gregg. I obtained two hundred plants, a few of which bore fruit so fine, the following season, that all who saw it wanted plants." It was learned that Mr. Gregg was the lawyer who was thought "long-winded," and many who then yawned have since thought, no doubt, that they might have listened with much profit, for the demand for the plants has become greater than the supply. Only time can show whether the Gregg is to supersede the Mammoth Cluster. I observe that veteran fruit growers are very conservative, and by no means hasty to give a newcomer the place that a fine old variety has won by years of excellence in nearly all diversities of soil and climate. The Gregg certainly promises remarkably well, and Mr. Thomas Meehan, editor of the "Gardener's Monthly," who is well known to be exceedingly careful and conscientious in indorsing new fruits, writes: "We believe this variety is generally larger than any other of its kind yet known."

There are many other candidates for favor, but thus far they are untried, or have not proved themselves equal to the kinds I have named.

Quite a distinct branch of R. Occidentalis is the Purple Cane family—so named, I think, from the purple cane raspberry that was so well known in old gardens a few years ago, but since it has been superseded by better kinds is now fast passing out of cultivation. It almost took care of itself in our home garden for forty years or more, and its soft, small berries would melt in one's mouth. Its canes were smooth and its fruit of a dusky-red color. In other respects, it resembles the black-cap tribe.

The Catawissa, found growing in a Pennsylvania graveyard, is another berry of this class, which produces a second crop in autumn. It is tender in the Northern States, and has never become popular.

The Philadelphia is the best known of the class, and at one time was immensely popular. Its canes are smooth, stout, erect in growth, and enormously productive of medium-sized, round, dusky-red berries of very poor flavor. It throve so well on the light soils about Philadelphia, that it was heralded to the skies, and the plants sold at one time as high as $40 per 100, but the inferior flavor and unattractive appearance of the fruit caused it to decline steadily in favor, and now it has but few friends. Unlike others of its class, it does not root from the tips, but propagates itself by suckers, producing them sparingly, however. When it was in such great demand, the nurserymen increased it by root cuttings, forced under glass.



CHAPTER XXIII

THE RASPBERRIES OF THE FUTURE

We now come to a class that are destined, I think, to be the raspberries of the future, or, at least, a type of them. I refer to the seedlings of the three original species that have been described. As a rule (having exceptions of course), these native seedling varieties are comparatively hardy, and adapted to the climate of America. This adaptation applies to the South in the proportion that they possess the qualities of the Rubus Strigosus or Occidentalis. To the degree that the foreign element of R. Idoeus exists, they will, with a few exceptions, require winter protection, and will be unable to thrive in light soils and under hot suns. Forgetfulness of this principle is often the cause of much misapprehension and undiscriminating censure. I have known certain New Jersey fruit growers to condemn a variety unsparingly. Would it not be more sensible to say it belongs to the R. Idoeus class, and, therefore, is not adapted to our climate and light soil, but in higher latitudes and on heavy land it may prove one of the best?

It should here be premised that these seedlings originated in this country. Perhaps they are the product solely of our native species, or they may result from crossing varieties of R. Idoeus, in which case they will exhibit the characteristics of the foreign species; or, finally, from the foreign and our native species may be produced a hybrid that will combine traits of each line of its lineage. A conspicuous example of the second statement may be seen in Brinkle's Orange, originated by Dr. Brinkle many years ago. It is essentially an Antwerp in character, and yet it is more vigorous, and adapted to a wider range of country than the Antwerp. The berry is of a beautiful buff color, and its delicious flavor is the accepted standard of excellence. At the same time, it is well known that it will not thrive under hot suns or upon light land. It can be raised south of New York only in cool, moist soils, and in half-shady locations; but at the North, where the conditions of growth are favorable, it produces strong branching canes, covered with white spines, and is exceedingly productive of large, light-colored berries that melt on the tongue. There is the same difference between it and the Brandywine that exists between Stowell's Evergreen and flint field corn. It invariably requires winter protection.

The Pride of the Hudson possesses the same general character as the Orange, and approaches it very nearly in excellence. It certainly is the largest, most beautiful red raspberry now before the public; but in its later development it has shown such sensitiveness to both heat and cold that I cannot recommend it for general cultivation. Give it a moist soil and a half-shady location, such as may be found on the northern side of a fence or hedge, and it will become the pride of any northern garden; but in the South, and on light soils, it can scarcely live. It should have winter protection.

In contrast with these native berries of foreign parentage, we have the Herstine; Mr. B. K. Bliss, the well-known seedsman of New York City, kindly furnishes me the following facts of its history: "About ten years since I was invited, with several gentlemen (mostly horticulturists), to visit the late Mr. Herstine, at Philadelphia. We were to examine a lot of seedling raspberries, and select names for those that we thought worthy of general cultivation. We found quite a company there from the vicinity of Philadelphia and from Washington, while New York was represented by such eminent authorities as Dr. Thurber and A. S. Fuller. The raspberry bushes were completely loaded with large fine fruit—the finest I ever saw. Each variety was carefully examined, and the guests voted as to which, in his opinion, was the best. The Herstine stood first and the Saunders second. Mr. Herstine explained that they were raised from the Allen raspberry, which had been planted in alternate rows with the Philadelphia." This parentage would make it a hybrid of the R. Strigosus and the purple cane branch of the R. Occidentalis species; but the plant and fruit indicate the presence, also, of the R. Ideous element. After several years' experience on my own place, I regard it as the best early raspberry in existence. The berry is large, obtusely conical, bright red, and delicious in flavor. It is scarcely firm enough for market where it must be sent any great distance, but if picked promptly after it reddens, and packed in a cool, airy place, it carries well and brings good prices. The canes are strong, red, stocky, and covered with spines. They are but half-hardy, and I think it is best to cover them before the first of December, in our latitude. The canes of the Saunders, also sent out by Mr. Herstine, are much darker in color, and not so vigorous, but sufficiently so. The berries are large, ripen later, are more globular, and are of the same excellent quality. It deserves greater popularity than it has received. It is, also, only half-hardy.

In the Clarke, we undoubtedly have a variety containing considerable of the R. Idoeus element. The berries are often very large, bright crimson, conical, with large, hairy grains. Occasionally, the fruit on my vines was very imperfect, and crumbled badly in picking. I found that by cutting the canes rigorously back—even one-half—I obtained much larger and more perfect berries, and in increased quantities. The canes are very strong, upright growers, ending usually in a thick tuft of foliage, rather than in long, drooping tips. It was originated by Mr. E. E. Clarke, of New Haven, Conn., and is but half-hardy.

In the New Rochelle, we have a hybrid of the black-cap and red raspberry, the R. Occidentalis element predominating, and manifesting itself in the stocky and branching character of the canes, and in the fact that they propagate themselves by tips, and not suckers. The New Rochelle, originated by Mr. E. W. Carpenter, of Rye, N.Y., is perhaps the best of this class. It is very vigorous, hardy, and enormously productive, and the fruit is of good size. I do not like its sharp acid, however, and its dun or dusky-brown color will probably prevent it from becoming a favorite in market, since bright- hued berries are justly much preferred.

But Mr. Carpenter has sent out another seedling which, I think, is destined to have a brilliant future—the Caroline, It is thought to be a cross between the Catawissa and Brinkle's Orange. The canes are perfectly hardy, very strong, vigorous, branching, light-red, with a lighter bloom upon them here and there. It suckers freely, and also propagates itself sparingly from the tips. The fruit is exceedingly abundant and is a round cap of a beautiful buff color, almost equalling Brinkle's Orange in flavor. I think it will grow anywhere, and thus will find a place in innumerable gardens where the Orange does not thrive. At the same time, it is good enough for any garden.

The Ganargua was said to be a hybrid, but Mr. J. J. Thomas writes to me: "I have never been able to discover proof that it is one. I think it all R. Occidentalis—a variety."

The Reliance, a seedling of the Philadelphia, but far superior to it, is doing remarkably well on my place, and I hear favorable accounts from other localities.

There are many others that are either old and passing into obscurity or else so new and dubious in character that limited space forbids their mention. We will close this sketch of varieties with the Cuthbert, which that experienced and careful horticulturist, Dr. Hexamer, calls the "best raspberry now in existence."

This is a chance seedling, which the late Thomas Cuthbert found in his garden, at Riverdale, N.Y. His son has kindly furnished the following facts:

"The raspberry in question was discovered by my father about eleven years ago in the garden of our country seat at Riverdale-on-the- Hudson. It is probably a seedling of the Hudson River Antwerp, as it was found growing near the edge of a patch of that variety, but its great vigor of growth and the size and quality of the fruit marked it at once as a new and distinct kind. Its canes were carefully separated from the others and a small plantation made of them. The next year, and from time to time since, plants were given to our friends in various parts of the State for trial. Without exception, their reports have been favorable, particular mention having been made of their unusual vigor of growth, their hardiness, and the firmness and good keeping qualities of the fruit. The first year or so we gave the canes winter protection, but finding that it was unnecessary, we have discontinued it, and I have never heard of the canes being winter- killed."

From other sources I learn that Mr. Cuthbert made an arrangement with a nurseryman by the name of Thompson, to propagate and send out the variety. This gentleman dying soon after, the stock came into the possession of Mr. H. J. Corson, of Staten Island, N.Y., and by him and Mr. I. J. Simonson, a florist, the plants have been sent out to different parts of the country. This dissemination was very limited, and was characterized by an almost utter absence of heralding and extravagant praise. The berry has literally made its way on its own merits. Dr. Hexamer remarked to me that he had had it for years, and had wondered why its merits were so overlooked. My attention was called to it in the summer of 1878, and I took pains to see it in several localities. The large size of the berries, their firmness and fine flavor, convinced me that it was very valuable, and the fact that I found it flourishing luxuriantly on New Jersey sand, and maintaining a perfectly healthful foliage under an August sun, led me to believe that we had at last found a first-class variety that would thrive on light soils and under hot suns.

The late W. C. Bryant, the poet, himself well versed in horticulture, closed a letter to me with the following words:

"It has always seemed to me a scandal to our horticulture that in a region where the raspberry grows wild, we should not have a sort that would resist both the winter cold and summer heat, and produce abundantly."

After another year of observation and of much correspondence, extending even to California, I am convinced that the Cuthbert does "resist both the winter cold and summer heat, and produce abundantly," far better than any other raspberry that equals it in size and flavor. The canes are strong, upright, branching, if space permits, reddish- brown, spines abundant, but not very long and harsh. It is a rampant grower on good soil, but the foliage, so far from being rank and large, is delicate, and the under side of the leaves has a light, silvery hue. After once getting hold of the soil, it suckers immoderately, but is no worse in this respect than other vigorous varieties; and this tendency rapidly declines after the second year. Is it perfectly hardy? No; and I do not know of a single good raspberry that is; except, perhaps, the Turner, which, however, is inferior to the Cuthbert. I have seen the latter badly winter-killed, but it had stood eight years on the same ground without injury before. Then, because of a rank growth late in the season, that especial patch was hit hard, while other fields, but a few miles away, were unharmed. If planted on well-drained soil, where the wood could ripen well, I think it would be injured very rarely, if ever; but I have no faith in talk about "perfectly hardy raspberries." Those who observe closely will often find our hardy native species killed to the ground, and I think many varieties suffer more from the mild, variable winters of the Middle States than from the steady cold and snowy winters of the North. Moreover, any variety that has not the power of maintaining a healthy foliage through the hot season will usually be too feeble to resist the winter following. The question of hardiness can often be settled better in August than in January. One of the most hopeful features of the Cuthbert, therefore, is its tough, sun-enduring foliage, which enables the wood to ripen perfectly. It has never received winter protection thus far, either in this region or in Michigan, where it is largely raised, but it may be found necessary to shield it somewhat in some localities. It is both absurd and dishonest to claim perfection for a fruit, and the Cuthbert, especially as it grows older and loses something of its pristine vigor, will, probably, like all other varieties, develop faults and weaknesses. We cannot too much deprecate the arrogant spirit often manifested in introducing new fruits. Interested parties insist on boundless praise, and if their advice were followed, the fine old standards would be plowed out to make room for a newcomer that often proves, on trial, little better than a weed. The Cuthbert is not exactly a novelty. Through the gifts of the originator, and sales running through several years, it has become widely scattered, and has proved a success in every instance, as far as I can learn. I show my faith in it by my works, for I am setting it out more largely than all other kinds together, even going so far as to rent land for the purpose. I am satisfied, from frequent inquiries in Washington Market, that it will take the lead of all others, and it is so firm that it can be shipped by rail, like a Wilson strawberry.

In Delaware and Southern New Jersey, a variety named "Queen of the Market" is being largely set out. I have this variety in my specimen- bed, side by side with plants that came from Thomas Cuthbert's garden, and am almost satisfied that they are identical, and that Queen of the Market is but a synonym of the Cuthbert. I have placed the canes and spines of each under a powerful microscope and can detect no differences, and the fruit also appeared so much alike that I could not see wherein it varied. Plants of this variety were sent to Delaware some years since as they were to Michigan and California, and, wherever tested, they seem to win strong and immediate favor. Its chief fault in this locality is its lateness.



CHAPTER XXIV

BLACKBERRIES—VARIETIES, CULTIVATION, ETC.

The small-fruit branch of the rose family is assuredly entitled to respect when it is remembered that the blackberry is the blackest sheep in it. Unlike the raspberry, the drupes cling to the receptacle, which falls off with them when mature, and forms the hard, disagreeable core when the berry is black, but often only half ripe. The bush is, in truth, what the ancients called it—a bramble, and one of our Highland wildcats could scarcely scratch more viciously than it, if treated too familiarly; but, with judicious respect and good management, it will yield large and beautiful berries.

It would seem that Nature had given her mind more to blackberries than to strawberries, for, instead of merely five, she has scattered about 150 species up and down the globe. To describe all these would be a thorny experience indeed, robbing the reader of his patience as completely as he would be bereft of his clothing should he literally attempt to go through them all. Therefore, I shall give Professor Gray's description of the two species which have furnished our few really good varieties, and dismiss with mere mention a few other species.

"Rubus Villosus, High Blackberry. Everywhere along thickets, fence- rows, etc., and several varieties cultivated; stems one to six feet high, furrowed; prickles strong and hooked; leaflets three to five, ovate or lance-ovate, pointed, their lower surface and stalks hairy and glandular, the middle one long-stalked and sometimes heart- shaped; flowers racemed, rather large, with short bracts; fruit oblong or cylindrical.

"R. Canadensis, Low Blackberry or Dewberry. Rocky and sandy soil; long trailing, slightly prickly, smooth or smoothish, and with three to seven smaller leaflets than in the foregoing, the racemes of flowers with more leaf-like bracts, the fruit of fewer grains and ripening earlier."

The R. Cuneifolius, or Sand Blackberry, is common in the sandy ground and barrens from New Jersey southward; the R. Trivialis, Southern Low Blackberry, is found in light soils from Virginia southward; the R. Hispidus is a Running Swamp Blackberry whose long, slender stems creep through low, damp woods and marshes; the R. Spectabilis produces purple solitary flowers, and grows on the banks of the Columbia River in the far Northwest. Whatever improvements may originate from these species in the future, they have not as yet, to my knowledge, given us any fine cultivated variety.

R, fruticosus is the best-known European species, but neither has it, as far as I can discover, been the source of any varieties worthy of favor. It is said to have a peculiar flavor, that produces satiety at once. The blackberry, therefore, is exceptional, in that we have no fine foreign varieties, and Mr. Fuller writes that he cannot find "any practical information in regard to their culture in any European work on gardening."

The "bramble" is quite fully treated in Mr. R. Thompson's valuable English work, but I find little to interest the American reader. He suggests that the several native species that he describes are capable of great improvement, but I cannot learn that such effort has ever been made successfully. I do not know of any reason why our fine varieties will not thrive abroad, under conditions that accord with their nature.

In America there are innumerable varieties, since Nature produces wild seedlings on every hillside, and not a few seeds have been planted by horticulturists in the hope of originating a prize berry. Nature appears to have had the better fortune, thus far, for our best varieties are chance seedlings, found growing wild.

It is not so many years since the blackberry was regarded as merely a bramble in this country, as it now is abroad, and people were content with such fruit as the woods and fields furnished. Even still, in some localities, this supply is so abundant as to make the culture of the blackberry unprofitable. But, a number of years since, Mr. Lewis A. Seacor led to better things, by observing on the roadside, in the town of New Rochelle, Westchester County, New York, a bush flourishing where Nature had planted it. This variety took kindly to civilization, and has done more to introduce this fruit to the garden than all other kinds together. Mr. Donald GK Mitchell, in his breezy out-of-door book, "My Farm at Edgewood," gives its characteristics so admirably that I am tempted to quote him:

"The New Rochelle or Lawton Blackberry has been despitefully spoken of by many; first, because the market fruit is generally bad, being plucked before it is fully ripened; and next, because, in rich, clayey grounds, the briers, unless severely cut back, grow into a tangled, unapproachable forest, with all the juices exhausted in wood. But upon a soil moderately rich, a little gravelly and warm, protected from winds, served with occasional top-dressings and good hoeings, the Lawton bears magnificent burdens. Even then, if you wish to enjoy the richness of the fruit, you must not be hasty to pluck it. When the children say, with a shout, 'The blackberries are ripe!' I know they are black only, and I can wait. When the children report, 'The birds are eating the berries!' I know I can wait. But when they say, 'The bees are on the berries!' I know they are at their ripest. Then, with baskets, we sally out; I taking the middle rank, and the children the outer spray of boughs. Even now we gather those only which drop at the touch; these, in a brimming saucer, with golden Alderney cream and a soupcon of powdered sugar, are Olympian nectar; they melt before the tongue can measure their full soundness, and seem to be mere bloated bubbles of forest honey."

Notwithstanding this eloquent plea and truthful statement, the Lawton is decidedly on the wane. It is so liable to be winter-killed, even with best of care, and its fruit is go unpalatable, in its half-ripe condition, that it has given place to a more successful rival, the Kittatinny—discovered in Warren County, K. J., growing in a forest near the mountains, whose Indian name has become a household word from association with this most delicious fruit. Mr. Wolverton, in finding it, has done more for the world than if he had opened a gold mine. Under good culture, the fruit is very large; sweet, rich, and melting, when fully ripe, but rather sour and hard when immature. It reaches its best condition if allowed to ripen fully on the vines; but the majority of pickers use their hands only, and no more think of making nice discriminations than of questioning nature according to the Baconian method. They gather all that are black, or nearly so; but if this half-ripe fruit is allowed to stand in some cool, dry place for about twelve hours, Kittatinny berries may be had possessing nearly all their luscious qualities. The plant is an upright and very vigorous grower, exceedingly productive if soil and culture are suitable. Its leaves are long-pointed, "finely and unevenly serrate." The season of fruiting is medium, continuing from four to six weeks, if moisture is maintained. Both of these varieties are derived from the Rubus villosus species.

In contrast is the next-best known sort, Wilson's Early—having many of the characteristics of the Dewberry, or running blackberry, and, therefore, representing the second species described, R. Canadensis. Whether it is merely a sport from this species, or a hybrid between it and the first-named or high blackberry, cannot be accurately known, I imagine; for it also was found growing wild by Mr. John Wilson, of Burlington, N. J. Under high culture, and with increasing age, the plants become quite erect and stocky growers, but the ends of the cane are drooping. Frequently, they trail along the ground, and root at the tips, like the common Dewberry; and they rarely grow so stocky but that they can be bent over and covered with earth or litter, as is the case with the tender raspberries. It is well that this is possible, for it has so little power of resisting frost that a winter of ordinary severity kills the canes in the latitude of New York. I have always covered mine, and thus secured, at slight expense, a sure and abundant crop. The fruit is earlier than the Kittatinny, and tends to ripen altogether in about ten days. These advantages, with its large size and firmness, make it a valuable market berry in New Jersey, where hundreds of acres of it have been planted, and where it is still very popular. Throughout the North and West, it has been found too tender for cultivation, unless protected. In flavor, it is inferior to the Kittatinny or Snyder.

For many years, the great desideratum has been a perfectly hardy blackberry, and this want has at last been met in part by the Snyder, a Western variety that seems able to endure, without the slightest injury, the extremes of temperature common in the Northwestern States. From Nebraska eastward, I have followed its history, and have never heard of its being injured by frost. It originated on, or in the vicinity of, Mr. Snyder's farm, near La Porte, Ind., about 1851, and is an upright, exceedingly vigorous, and stocky grower, a true child of the R. vittosus. Its one fault is that it is not quite large enough to compete with those already described. On moist land, with judicious pruning, it could be made to approach them very nearly, however, while its earliness, hardiness, fine flavor, and ability to grow and yield abundantly almost anywhere, will lead to an increasing popularity. For home use, size is not so important as flavor and certainty of a crop. It is also more nearly ripe when first black than any other kind that I have seen; its thorns are straight, and therefore less vicious. I find that it is growing steadily in favor; and where the Kittatinny is winter-killed, this hardy new variety leaves little cause for repining.

There are several kinds that are passing out of cultivation, and not a few new candidates for favor; but the claims of superiority are as yet too doubtful to be recognized. Mr. James Wilson, of West Point, N. Y., found some magnificent wild berries growing on Crow Nest Mountain. The bush that bore them is now in my garden, and if it should produce fruit having a flavor equal to Rodman Drake's poem, Mr. Wilson has, then, found something more real than a "Culprit Fay." Occasionally, a thornless blackberry is heralded, and not a few have reason to recall the "Hoosac," which was generally found, I think, about as free from fruit as thorns. We have, also, the horticultural paradox of white blackberries, in the "Crystal," introduced by Mr. John B. Orange, of Albion, Illinois, and some others. They have little value, save as curiosities.

PROPAGATION, CULTURE, ETC.

In most instances I think more difficulty would be found in making a blackberry die than live. A plant set out in fall or early spring will thrive if given the ghost of a chance. Late spring planting, however, often fails if subjected to heat and drought while in the green, succulent condition of early growth. Like the raspberry, the blackberry should be set, if possible, while in a dormant condition. If planted late, shade should be given and moisture maintained until danger of wilting and shrivelling is past. I advise decidedly against late spring plantings on a large scale, but in early spring planting I have rarely lost a plant. Almost all that has been said concerning the planting and propagation of raspberries applies to this fruit. Set the plants two or three inches deeper than they were before. With the exception of the early Wilson, all speedily propagate themselves by suckers, and this variety can be increased readily by root cuttings. Indeed, better plants are usually obtained from all varieties by sowing slips of the root, as has already been explained in the paper on raspberries.

The treatment of the blackberry can best be indicated by merely noting wherein its requirements differ from the last-named and kindred fruit. For instance, it does best on light soils and in sunny exposures. The partial shade, and moist, heavy land in which the raspberry luxuriates would produce a rank growth of canes that winter would generally find unripened, and unable to endure the frost. Warm, well-drained, but not dry land, therefore, is the best. On hard, dry ground, the fruit often never matures, but becomes mere collections of seeds. Therefore the need in the preparation of the soil of deep plowing, and the thorough loosening, if possible, of the subsoil with the lifting plow. Any one who has traced blackberry roots in light soils will seek to give them foraging-room. Neither does this fruit require the fertility needed in most instances by the raspberry. It inclines to grow too rankly at best, and demands mellowness rather than richness of soil.

More room should also be given to the blackberry than to the raspberry. The rows should be six feet apart in the garden and eight feet in field culture, and the plants set three feet apart in the rows. At this distance, 1,815 are required for an acre, if one plant only is placed in a hill. Since these plants are usually cheap, if one is small or unprovided with good roots, it is well to plant two. If the ground is not very fertile, it is well to give the young plants a good start by scattering a liberal quantity of muck compost down the furrow in which they are planted. This ensures the most vigorous growth of young canes in the rows rather than in the intervening spaces. As generally grown, they require support, and may be staked as raspberries. Very often, cheap post-and-wire trellises are employed, and answer excellently. Under this system they can be grown in a continuous and bushy row, with care against over-crowding.

The ideal treatment of the blackberry is management rather than culture. More can be done with the thumb and finger at the right time than with the most savage pruning-shears after a year of neglect. In May and June the perennial roots send up vigorous shoots that grow with amazing rapidity, until from five to ten feet high. Very often, this summer growth is so brittle and heavy with foliage, that thunder- gusts break them off from the parent stem just beneath the ground, and the bearing cane of the coming year is lost. These and the following considerations show the need of summer pruning. Tall, overgrown canes are much more liable to be injured by frost. They need high and expensive supports. Such branchless canes are by no means so productive as those which are made to throw out low and lateral shoots. They can always be made to do this by a timely pinch that takes off the terminal bud of the cane. This stops its upward growth, and the buds beneath it, which otherwise might remain dormant, are immediately forced to become side branches near the ground, where the snow may cover them, and over which, in the garden, straw or other light litter may be thrown, on the approach of winter. It thus is seen that by early summer pinching the blackberry may be compelled to become as low and bushy a shrub as we desire, and is made stocky and self-supporting at the same time. Usually it is not well to let the bushes grow over four feet high; and in regions where they winter-kill badly, I would keep them under three feet, so that the snow might be a protection. It should be remembered that the Kittatinny is so nearly hardy that in almost all instances a very slight covering saves it. The suckers that come up thickly between the rows can be cut away while small with the least possible trouble; but leave the patch or field to its own wild impulses for a year or so, and you may find a "slip of wilderness" in the midst of your garden that will require not a little strength and patience to subdue. By far the best weapon for such a battle, and the best implement also for cutting out the old wood, is a pair of long-handled shears.



CHAPTER XXV

CURRANTS—CHOICE OF SOIL, CULTIVATION, PRUNING, ETC.

They wore "curns" in our early boyhood, and "curns" they are still in the rural vernacular of many regions. In old English they were "corrans," because the people associated them with the raisins of the small Zante grape, once imported so exclusively from Corinth as to acquire the name of that city.

Under the tribe Grossulariae of the Saxifrage family we find the Ribes containing many species of currants and gooseberries; but, in accordance with the scope of this book, we shall quote from Professor Gray (whose arrangement we follow) only those that furnish the currants of cultivation.

"Ribes rubrum, red currant, cultivated from Europe, also wild on our northern border, with straggling or reclining stems, somewhat heart-shaped, moderately three to five lobed leaves, the lobes roundish and drooping racemes from lateral buds distinct from the leaf buds; edible berries red, or a white variety."

This is the parent of our cultivated red and white varieties. Currants are comparatively new-comers in the garden. When the Greek and Roman writers were carefully noting and naming the fruits of their time, the Ribes tribe was as wild as any of the hordes of the far North, in whose dim, cold, damp woods and bogs it then flourished, but, like other Northern tribes, it is making great improvement under the genial influences of civilization and culture.

Until within a century or two, gardeners who cultivated currants at all were content with wild specimens from the woods. The exceedingly small, acid fruit of these wildings was not calculated to inspire enthusiasm; but a people possessing the surer qualities of patience and perseverance determined to develop them, and, as a result, we have the old Bed and White Dutch varieties, as yet unsurpassed for the table. In the Victoria, Cherry, and White Grape, we have decided advances in size, but not in flavor.

CHOICE AND PREPARATION OF SOIL

The secret of success in the culture of currants is suggested by the fact that nature has planted nearly every species of the Ribes in cold, damp, northern exposures. Throughout the woods and bogs of the Northern Hemisphere is found the scraggy, untamed, hurdy stock from which has been developed the superb White Grape. As with people, so with plants: development does not eradicate constitutional traits and tendencies. Beneath all is the craving for the primeval conditions of life, and the best success with the currant and gooseberry will assuredly be obtained by those who can give them a reasonable approach to the soil, climate, and culture suggested by their damp, cold, native haunts. As with the strawberry, then, the first requisite is, not wetness, but abundant and continuous moisture. Soils naturally deficient in this, and which cannot be made drought-resisting by deep plowing and cultivation, are not adapted to the currant. Because this fruit is found wild in bogs, it does not follow that it can be grown successfully in undrained swamps. It will do better in such places than on dry, gravelly knolls, or on thin, light soils; but our fine civilized varieties need civilized conditions. The well-drained swamp may become the very best of currant fields; and damp, heavy land, that is capable of deep, thorough cultivation, should be selected if possible. When such is not to be had, then, by deep plowing, subsoiling, by abundant mulch around the plants throughout the summer, and by occasional waterings in the garden, counteracting the effects of lightness and dryness of soil, skill can go far in making good nature's deficiencies.

Next to depth of soil and moisture, the currant requires fertility. It is justly called one of the "gross feeders," and is not particular as to the quality of its food, so that it is abundant. I would still suggest, however, that it be fed according to its nature with heavy composts, in which muck, leaf-mould, and the cleanings of the cow- stable are largely present. Wood-ashes and bone-meal are also most excellent. If stable or other light manures must be used, I would suggest that they be scattered liberally on the surface in the fall or early spring and gradually worked in by cultivation. Thus used, their light heating qualities will do no harm, and they will keep the surface mellow and, therefore, moist.

The shadowy, Northern haunts of the wild currant also suggest that it will falter and fail under the Southern sun; and this is true, As we pass down through the Middle States, we find it difficult to make thrive even the hardy White and Bed Dutch varieties, and a point is at last reached when the bushes lose their leaves in the hot season, and die. From the latitude of New York south, therefore, increasing effort should be made to supply the currants' constitutional need, by giving partial shade among pear or widely set apple-trees, or, better still, by planting on the northern side of fences, buildings, etc. By giving a cool, half-shady exposure in moist land, the culture of the currant can be extended far to the south, especially in the high mountain regions. Even well to the north it is unprofitable when grown on light, thin, poor land, unless given liberal, skilful culture.

PLANTING, CULTIVATION AND PRUNING

I regard autumn as the best season for planting currants, but have succeeded nearly as well in early spring. If kept moist, there is little danger of the plants dying at any time, but those set in the fall or early spring make, the first year, a much larger growth than those planted when the buds have developed into leaves. Since they start so early, they should be set in the spring as soon as the ground is dry enough to work, and in the autumn, any time after the leaves fall or the wood is ripe. The plants of commerce are one, two and three years old, though not very many of the last are sold. I would as soon have one-year plants, if well rooted, as any, since they are cheaper and more certain to make strong, vigorous bushes, if given generous treatment in the open field, than if left crowded too long in nursery rows. For the garden, where fruit is desired as soon as possible, two and three year old plants are preferable. After planting, cut the young bushes back one-half or two-thirds, so as to ensure new and vigorous growth.

In field culture, I recommend that the rows be five feet apart, and the plants four feet from each other in the row. In this case 2,178 plants are required for an acre. If it is designed to cultivate them both ways, let the plants be set at right angles five feet apart, an acre now requiring 1,742 plants. Sink them two or three inches deeper than they stood in the nursery rows, and although in preparation the ground was well enriched, a shovel of compost around the young plant gives it a fine send-off, and hastens the development of a profitable bush. In the field and for market, I would urge that currants be grown invariably in bush, rather than in tree form. English writers, and some here who follow them, recommend the latter method; but it is not adapted to our climate, and to such limited attention as we can afford to give. The borers, moreover, having but a single stem to work upon, would soon cause many vacancies in the rows.

Currants are grown for market with large and increasing profits; indeed, there is scarcely a fruit that now pays better.

Mr. John S. Collins, of Moorestown, N. J., by the following ingenious, yet simple, invention, is able to drive through his currant and raspberry fields without injuring the plants.

"An ordinary cart is changed by putting in an axle fifteen inches longer than usual, the wheels thus making a track six feet and eight inches wide. The shafts and body of the cart are put just as close to one wheel as possible, so that the horse and the wheel will pass as near together, and as near in a line, as practicable. The axle of the other wheel being long, and bowing up several inches higher than ordinary in the middle, it passes over a row of bushes with little or no damage. Thus, fertilizers can be carried to all parts of the field."

Of course, it would not do to drive through bushes laden with fruit; but after they were picked, such a vehicle could cause but little injury.

In the garden and for home use there is the widest latitude. We may content ourselves, as many do, with a few old Red Dutch bushes that for a generation have struggled with grass and burdocks. We may do a little better, and set out plants in ordinary garden soil, but forget for years to give a particle of food to the starving bushes, remarking annually, with increasing emphasis, that they must be "running out." Few plants of the garden need high feeding more, and no others are more generally starved. I will guarantee that there are successful farmers who no more think of manuring a currant bush than of feeding crows. This fruit will live, no matter how we abuse it, but there are scarcely any that respond more quickly to generous treatment; and in the garden where it is not necessary to keep such a single eye to the margin of profit, many beautiful and interesting things can be done with the currant. The majority will be satisfied with large, vigorous bushes, well enriched, mulched and skilfully pruned. If we choose, however, we may train them into pretty little trees, umbrella, globe, or pyramid in shape, according to our fancy, and by watchfulness and the use of ashes, keep away the borers. In one instance I found a few vigorous shoots that had made a growth of nearly three feet in a single season. With the exception of the terminal bud and three or four just below it, I disbudded these shoots carefully, imbedded the lower ends six inches in moist soil as one would an ordinary cutting, and they speedily took root and developed into little trees. Much taller and more ornamental currant and gooseberry trees can be obtained by grafting any variety we wish on the Missouri species (Ribes aureum). These can be made pretty and useful ornaments of the lawn, as well as of the garden. Instead, therefore, of weed- choked, sprawling, unsightly objects, currant bushes can be made things of beauty, as well as of sterling worth.

The cultivation of the currant is very simple. As early in the spring as the ground is dry enough, it should be thoroughly stirred by plow or cultivator, and all perennial weeds and grasses just around the bushes taken out with pronged hoes or forks. If a liberal top-dressing of compost or some other fertilizer was not given in the autumn, which is the best time to apply it, let it be spread over the roots (not up against the stems) before the first spring cultivation. While the bushes are still young, they can be cultivated and kept clean, like any hoed crop; but after they come into bearing—say the third summer —a different course must be adopted. If the ground is kept mellow and bare under the bushes, the fruit will be so splashed with earth as to be unsalable, and washed fruit is scarcely fit for the table. We very properly wish it with just the bloom and coloring which Nature is a month or more in elaborating. Muddy or rinsed fruit suggests the sty, not a dining-room. A mulch of leaves, straw, evergreen boughs— anything that will keep the ground clean—applied immediately after the early spring culture, is the best and most obvious way of preserving the fruit; and this method also secures all the good results which have been shown to follow mulching. Where it is not convenient to mulch, I would suggest that the ground be left undisturbed after the first thorough culture, until the fruit is gathered. The weeds that grow in the interval may be mowed, and allowed to fall under the bushes. By the end of June, the soil will have become so fixed that, with a partial sod of weeds, the fruit may hang over, or even rest upon it, without being splashed by the heavy rains then prevalent. This course is not so neat as clean cultivation or mulching. Few fruit growers, however, can afford to make appearances the first consideration. I have heard of oats being sown among the bushes to keep the fruit clean, but their growth must check the best development of the fruit quite as much as the natural crop of weeds. It would be better to give clean culture, and grow rye, or any early maturing green crop, somewhere else, and when the fruit begins to turn, spread this material under the bushes. On many places, the mowings of weedy, swampy places would be found sufficient for the purpose. After the fruit is gathered, start the cultivator and hoe at once, so as to secure vigorous foliage and healthful growth throughout the entire summer.

Pruning may be done any time after the leaves fall, and success depends upon its judicious and rigorous performance. The English gardeners have recognized this fact, and they have as minute and careful a system as we apply to the grape. These formal and rather arbitrary methods can scarcely be followed practically in our hurried American life. It seems to me that I can do no better than to lay down some sound and general principles and leave their working out to the judgment of the grower. In most instances, I imagine, our best gardeners rarely trim two bushes exactly alike, but deal with each according to its vigor and natural tendencies; for a currant bush has not a little individuality.

A young bush needs cutting back like a young grapevine, and for the same reason. A grapevine left to itself would soon become a mass of tangled wood yielding but little fruit, and that of inferior quality. In like manner nature, uncurbed, gives us a great, straggling bush that is choked and rendered barren by its own luxuriance. Air and light are essential, and the knife must make spaces for them. Cutting back and shortening branches develops fruit buds. Otherwise, we have long, unproductive reaches of wood. This is especially true of the Cherry and other varieties resembling it. The judicious use of the knife, kept up from year to year, will almost double their productiveness. Again, too much very young and too much old wood are causes of unfruitfulness. The skilful culturist seeks to produce and preserve many points of branching and short spurs, for it is here that the little fruit buds cluster thickly. When a branch is becoming black and feeble from age, cut it back to the root, that space may be given for younger growth. From six to twelve bearing stems, from three to five feet high, with their shortened branches and fruit spurs, may be allowed to grow from the roots, according to the vigor of the plant and the space allotted to it. Usually, too many suckers start in the spring. Unless the crop of young wood is valuable for propagation, all except such as are needed to renew the bush should be cut out as early as possible, before they have injured the forming crop. In England, great attention is paid to summer pruning, and here much might be accomplished by it if we had, or would take, the time.



CHAPTER XXVI

CURRANTS, CONTINUED—PROPAGATION, VARIETIES

Pruning naturally leads to the subject of propagation, for much of that which is cut away, so far from being useless, is often of great value to the nurseryman; and there are few who grow this fruit for market who could not turn many an honest penny if they would take the refuse young wood of the previous summer's growth and develop it into salable bushes. In most instances a market would be found in their own neighborhood. Nothing is easier than success in raising young currant bushes, except failure. If cuttings are treated in accordance with their demand for moisture and coolness, they grow with almost certainty; if subjected to heat and drought, they usually soon become dry sticks. The very best course is to make and plant our cuttings in September or very early in October—just as soon as the leaves fall or will rub off readily. As is true of a root-slip, so also the wood cutting must make a callus at its base before there can be growth. From this the roots start out. Therefore, the earlier in the fall that cuttings are made, the more time for the formation of this callus. Often, autumn-planted cuttings are well rooted before winter, and have just that much start over those that must begin life in the spring. Six inches is the average length. See Figures A, B and C. Let the cuttings be sunk in deep, rich, moist, but thoroughly well-drained soil, so deeply as to leave but two or three buds above the ground. In the garden, where the design is to raise a few fine bushes for home use merely, let the rows be two feet apart and the cuttings six inches apart in the row. In raising them by the thousand for market, we must economize space and labor; and therefore one of the best methods, after rendering the ground mellow and smooth, is to stretch a line across the plat or field; then, beginning on one side of the line, to strike a spade into the soil its full depth, press it forward and draw it out. This leaves a slight opening, of the width and depth of the spade, and a boy following inserts in this three cuttings, one in the middle and one at each end. The man then steps back and drives the spade down again about four inches in the rear of the first opening, and, as he presses his spade forward to make a second, he closes up the first opening, pressing—indeed, almost pinching—the earth around the three slips that have just been thrust down, until but one or two buds are above the surface. We thus have a row of cuttings, three abreast, and about three inches apart, across the entire field. A space of three feet is left for cultivation, and then we plant, as before, another triple row. These thick rows should be taken up the following fall, when the largest may be sold; or planted where they are to fruit, and the smaller ones replanted in nursery rows. When land is abundant the cuttings may be sunk in single rows, with sufficient space between for horse cultivation, and allowed to mature into two-year-old plants without removal. If these are not planted or sold, they should be cut back rigorously before making the third year's growth.



In moist land, cuttings can be made to grow even if set out late in the spring, especially if top-dressed and mulched; but if they are to be started on high, dry land, they should be out sufficiently early in the autumn to become rooted before winter. If our land is of a nature that tends to throw roots out of the ground—and moist, heavy land has this tendency—it may be best to bury the cuttings in bundles, tied up with fine wire, on a dry knoll, below the action of the frost, and set them out early—as early as possible—in the spring. At any season the rows of cuttings should be well top-dressed with fine manure, and if planted in autumn, they should be so well covered with straw, leaves, or some litter, as not to suffer or be thrown out in freezing and thawing weather. I manage to get half my cuttings out in the fall, and half in early spring.

In the greenhouse, and even out-of-doors, under very favorable circumstances, plants may be grown from single buds; and green wood also propagates readily under glass. A vigorous young plant, with roots attached, may often be obtained by breaking off the suckers that start beneath the surface around the stems; and, by layering or bending bushes over and throwing dirt upon them, new plants are readily made also; but more shapely, and usually more vigorous, bushes are obtained by simple cuttings, as I have described.

When it is designed to grow a cutting in a tree form, all the buds but two or three at the top should be carefully removed.

If we wish to try our fortune in raising new varieties, we must sow seeds of the very best specimens we can find, gathered when perfectly ripe. These seeds should never be kept where it is hot or very dry, and should be soaked for a day or two in tepid water before planting. Sow early in spring, quarter of an inch deep, in fine rich soil, which must continually be kept moist, but never wet. Top-dressings of very fine, light manure would keep the surface from baking, thus giving the seeds a chance to germinate. Tolerate no weeds. Remove the seedlings in the fall to rows three feet apart, and the plants two feet distant in the row. There they may stand until their comparative value can be determined.

VARIETIES

Black currants form quite a distinct class in appearance and flavor, and are not as popular with us as in England. They are stronger and coarser-growing plants than the red and white species, and do not require as high culture. They can be grown to advantage in tree form, as they are quite exempt from insect enemies. The tent caterpillar is the only one that I have seen injuring them. They also require much less pruning, since the best fruit is borne on the young wood of the previous year's growth. If they are grown as bushes, they need more room—six feet apart each way—and the knife need be used only to secure good form and space for air and light. Two native species— _Ribes_ floridum_ and _Ribes aureum_—are cultivated to some extent (for description see "Gray's Botany"). Although these species and their varieties are of little value, Mr. Fuller thinks that they might become the parents of far better kinds than we now have, since they are strong growers, and their fruit is naturally of better flavor than that of the European black currant. _Ribes aureum_ is largely cultivated as an ornamental shrub, and its spicy-scented, bright yellow flowers of early spring are among my pleasantest memories. As has already been explained, we can make miniature trees of our white and red currants, by grafting them on its strong, erect-growing stems. _Ribes nigrum_ is the European species, and is found wild throughout the northern part of the Eastern Hemisphere. Mr. Fuller writes that the inhabitants of Siberia make a beverage from its dried leaves which is said closely to resemble green tea. Black Naples is the finest variety of this species. Charles Downing says of it: "Its berries often measure nearly three-quarters of an inch in diameter. Its leaves and blossoms appear earlier than those of the common, or English Black, but the fruit is later, and the clusters as well as the berries are larger and more numerous." Lee's Prolific is said by some to be a slight improvement on the above; by others it is thought to be very similar.

Of red currants, the old Red Dutch is the most prominent. It is the currant of memory. From it was made the wine which our mothers and grandmothers felt that they could offer with perfect propriety to the minister. There are rural homes to-day in which the impression still lingers that it is a kind of temperance drink. From it is usually made the currant jelly without which no lady would think of keeping house in the country. One of the gravest questions in domestic economy is whether the jelly will "jell." Often it does not, and cannot be made to. The cause of its lamentable perversity is this: The currants have been left until over-ripe before picking, or they have been picked wet, just after rain. Gather them when dry, and as soon as possible after they have turned red, and I am informed by the highest domestic authority (my wife) that there will be no difficulty.

In flavor, the Red Dutch is unequalled by any other red currant. It is also a variety that can scarcely be killed by abuse and neglect, and it responds so generously to high culture and rigorous pruning that it is an open question whether it cannot be made, after all, the most profitable for market, since it is so much more productive than the larger varieties, and can be made to approach them so nearly in size. Indeed, not a few are annually sold for Cherry currants.

The White Dutch is similar to the Red in the growth and character of the bush. The clusters, however, are a little shorter, and the fruit a little larger and sweeter, and is of a fine yellowish-white color, with a veined, translucent skin.

The White Grape is an advance in size upon the last-named, and of marvellous productiveness and beauty. It is not as vigorous as the White Dutch, and is more spreading in its mode of growth, requiring careful pruning to make a shapely bush. The fruit, also, is not spread so evenly over the wood, but is produced more in bunches. In flavor, it is one of the very best.

Dana's Transparent, and other white varieties, do not vary materially from either the White Grape or Dutch.

The great market currant is the Cherry. In the "Canadian Horticulturist" for September, 1878, I find the following:

"The history of this handsome currant is not without interest. Monsieur Adrienne Seneclause, a distinguished horticulturist in France, received it from Italy among a lot of other currants. He noticed the extraordinary size of the fruit, and gave it, in consequence, the name it yet bears. In the year 1843 it was fruited in the nursery of the Museum of Natural History, and figured from these samples in the 'Annales de Flore et de Pomone' for February, 1848. Dr. William W. Valk, of Flushing, Long Island, N. Y., introduced it to the notice of American fruit growers in 1846, having imported some of the plants in the spring of that year."

This variety is now very widely disseminated, and its culture is apparently becoming increasingly profitable every year. Two essentials are requisite to success with it—high manuring and skilful pruning. It has the tendency to produce long branches, on which there are but few buds. Rigorous cutting back, so as to cause branching joints and fruit spurs, should be practiced annually. The foliage is strong and coarse, and the fruit much more acid than the Dutch family; but size and beauty carry the market, and the Cherry can be made, by high culture, very large and beautiful.

Versailles, or La Versaillaise, is a figurative bone of contention. The horticultural doctors disagree so decidedly that the rest of us can, without presumption, think for ourselves. Mr. A. S. Fuller has probably given the subject more attention than any one else, and he asserts, without any hesitancy, that this so-called variety is identical with the Cherry. Mr. Fuller is certainly entitled to his opinion, for he obtained plants of the Cherry and Versailles from all the leading nurserymen in America, and imported them from the standard nurseries abroad, not only once, but repeatedly, yet could never get two distinct varieties. The writer in the "Canadian Horticulturist" also states in regard to the Versailles:

"Some pains were taken to obtain this variety on different occasions, and from the most reliable sources, so that there might be no mistake as to the correctness of the name; but after many years of trial we are unable to perceive any decided variation, either in the quality of the fruit, the length of the bunch, or the habit of the plant, from the Cherry currant."

I must admit that I am inclined to take the same view; for, during several years, I have looked in vain for two distinct varieties. I have carefully kept the two kinds separate, but find in each case the same stout, stocky, short-jointed, erect shoots that are often devoid of buds, and tend to become naked with age, and the same dark green, thick, bluntly and coarsely serrated foliage. Mr. Downing thinks the difference lies in the fact that, while the Versailles strain produces many short bunches like the Cherry, it also frequently bears clusters, and that such long, tapering clusters are never formed on the Cherry. This is the only difference, I think, if any exists; but in no instance have I been able to find this distinction well defined and sustained by the bearing plantations that I have seen. Mr. Downing, however, has had tenfold more experience than I have, and his opinions are entitled to corresponding weight.

That this class is much inclined to "sport," I think all will admit. One bush in a row may be loaded with fruit year after year, and the next one be comparatively barren. The clusters on one bush may be short and characteristic of the Cherry, while a neighboring bush in the same patch may show a tendency to mingle some long clusters with the short ones; and young bushes grown from the same plant will show these variations. I am satisfied that distinct and much improved strains could be developed by propagating from bushes producing the best and most abundant fruit, and that a variety having the characteristics of the Ideal Versailles could be developed. The importance of this careful selection in propagation can scarcely be overestimated, and the fruit grower who followed it up for a few years might almost double the productiveness and quality of many of his varieties.

Victoria (known also as May's Victoria, and having a half-dozen other synonymes) is a distinct variety, whose great value consists in its lengthening out the currant season two or three weeks after the above- named kinds have matured. The fruit is also large—between the Red Dutch and Cherry in size—exceedingly abundant, and although rather acid, of good flavor when fully ripe. The clusters are very long— from five to seven inches—tapering, and the berries are bright red. If it is grown in some moist, cool, half-shady location, the bunches will hang on the bushes very late in the season. In many localities it is found very profitable, since it need not be sold until the others are out of the market. The young branches are rather slender, but the plant itself is vigorous, and can be grown at less expense than the Cherry.

There are many other named varieties, but in the majority of instances the distinctions between them are slight, and as they are waning before the finer varieties that I have described, I shall not attempt to lighten the shadows that are gathering around them. The future promises more than the past, and I think that, before many years pass, some fine new kinds will be introduced.

The enemies and diseases of the currant will be treated in a later chapter.



CHAPTER XXVII

GOOSEBERRIES

I have treated the currant very fully, not only because it is the more popular fruit in this country, but also because the greater part of my suggestions under that heading applies equally to this branch of the Ribes tribe. Possessing the same general characteristics, it should be treated on the same principles that were seen to be applicable to the currant. It flourishes best in the same cool exposures, and is the better for partial shade. Even in the south of England the more tender-skinned varieties often scald in the sun. However, I would recommend the shade of a fence or a northern hillside, rather than overhanging branches of trees. A rich soil, especially one that is deep and moist but not wet, is equally requisite, and the rigorous annual pruning is even more essential. As the wood becomes old and black, it should be cut out altogether. Fruit buds and spurs are produced on wood two or more years old, and cutting back causes these, but they must not be allowed to become too crowded. To no fruit are air and light more essential.

We have in this country two very distinct classes of gooseberries-the first of foreign origin, and the second consisting of our native species. Gray thus describes Ribes Grossularia, garden or English gooseberry: "Cultivated from Europe for the well-known fruit; thorny and prickly, with small, obtuse, three to five lobed leaves, green flowers, one to three on short pedicels, bell-shaped calyx, and large berry."

This native of northern Europe and the forests of the British Islands has been developed into the superb varieties which have been famous so long in England, but which we are able to grow with very partial success. It remembers its birthplace even more strongly than the currant, and the almost invariable mildew of our gardens is the sign of its homesickness. The cool, moist climate of England just suits it, and it is the pride of the gardens of Lancashire to surpass the world in the development of large specimens. Mr. Downing writes:

"We are indebted to the Lancashire weavers, who seem to have taken it up as a hobby, for nearly all the surprisingly large sorts of modern date. Their annual shows exhibit this fruit in its greatest perfection, and a gooseberry book is published in Manchester every year, giving a list of all the prize sorts, etc."

The extraordinary pains taken is suggested by the following quotation from the "Encyclopaedia of Gardening":

"To effect this increased size, every stimulant is applied that their ingenuity can suggest. They not only annually manure the soil richly, but also surround the plants with trenches of manure for the extremities of the roots to strike into, and form round the stem of each plant a basin, to be mulched, or manured, or watered, as may become necessary. When a root has extended too far from the stem, it is uncovered, and all the strongest leaders are shortened back nearly one-half of their length, and covered with fresh, marly loam, well manured. The effect of this pruning is to increase the number of fibres and spongioles, which form rapidly on the shortened roots, and strike out in all directions among the fresh, newly stirred loam, in search of nutriment."

This is carrying culture to an extreme rarely, if ever, seen in America. The annual referred to above recorded one hundred and fifty- five gooseberry exhibitions in 1863.

The number of varieties is almost endless, and more than seven hundred prize sorts are named in Lindley's "Guide to the Orchard"; but not one of them, I fear, can be grown in this country, except under favorable conditions and with extra care. Even after supplying such conditions, they will often mildew in spite of our best efforts. Again, in some localities, and for obscure causes, they will thrive and continue for years quite free from this chief enemy of the foreign gooseberry. Repeated applications of the flowers of sulphur over the bushes, from the time the fruit sets until it is ripe, are probably the best preventive. Thorough mulching, rigorous pruning, and high culture are also to be recommended. Those who garden for pleasure would do well to try some of these fine foreigners.

The following are some that Mr. Downing and others have recommended:

I. Red Varieties: British Crown, Top Sawyer, Roaring Lion, Lancashire Lad, Crown Bob.

II. White: Cheshire Lass, White Lion, Whitesmith, White Honey.

III. Green: Laurel, Heart of Oak, Jolly Angler, Jolly Tar.

IV. Yellow: Golden Fleece, Bunker Hill, Conqueror, etc.

If but two or three foreign berries are to be chosen, I would recommend Crown Bob, Bearing Lion, and Whitesmith.

I am sorry to say that seedlings of these foreign varieties have the same tendency to mildew shown by their parents. The Late Emerald was originated in the old garden at Newburgh, and is a sad example of this fact. For many years it thrived in its birthplace without a trace of mildew, but on my own place it has behaved so badly that I do not recommend it. Were it not for this fault, I should grow no other variety.

In view of this inveterate evil, mildew, which is so seldom escaped and so difficult to overcome, we must turn to the second great class, our native species, since they are adapted to our climate. Of these there are several species, of which the following are the most prominent:

Ribes speciosum, showy, flowering gooseberry of California, cultivated for ornament, especially in England, and likely to succeed in the southern Middle States. It is trained like a climber; has small, shining leaves, very handsome flowers resembling those of a fuchsia, berry prickly, and few-seeded.

R. rotundifolium, more common in the West, is often downy-leaved; peduncles slender; the slender stamens and two-parted style longer than the narrow calyx; berry smooth.

R. cynosbati is found in the rocky woods of the North, is downy- leaved, with slender peduncle, stamens and undivided style not exceeding the broad calyx; large berry, usually prickly.

R. lacustre, Lake or Swamp Gooseberry, with the prickly stems of the gooseberry, but with a raceme of flowers like those of a currant; found in the cold bogs and wet woods of the North; small, bristly berries, of unpleasant flavor.

Last, but by no means the least, is the Ribes hirtellum, "commonest in our Eastern States, seldom downy, with very short thorns or none, very short peduncles, stamens and two-cleft style scarcely longer than the bell-shaped calyx; and the smooth berry is purple, small and sweet." (Gray.) This is the parent of the most widely known of our native varieties, the Houghton Seedling, named from its originator, Abel Houghton, of Lynn, Massachusetts. The bush is a vigorous grower, that will thrive, with decent culture, on any moderately good soil, and is very rarely injured by mildew. At the same time it improves greatly under high culture and pruning. The bush has a slender and even weeping habit of growth, and can be propagated readily by cuttings. From the Houghton have been grown two seedlings that now are justly the most popular.

The first and best of these is the Downing, originated by Mr. Charles Downing of Newburgh. It is an "upright, vigorous-growing plant, very productive. Fruit somewhat larger than the Houghton, roundish-oval, whitish-green, with the rib veins distinct. Skin smooth. Flesh rather soft, juicy." I consider this the best and most profitable variety that can be generally grown in this country. In flavor, it is excellent. I have had good success with this whenever I have given it fair culture. It does not propagate readily from cuttings, and therefore I increase it usually by layering.