For practical purposes the bush form is the best in which to grow currants; but they can easily be made to form pretty little trees with tops shaped like an umbrella, or any other form we desire. For instance, I found, one autumn, a shoot about three feet long. I rubbed off all the buds except the terminal one and three or four just beneath it, then sunk the lower end of the shoot six inches into the soil, and tied the part above the ground to a short stake. The following spring the lower end took root, and the few buds at the top developed into a small bushy head. Clumps of miniature currant-trees would make as pretty an ornament for the garden border as one would wish to see. It should be remembered that there is a currant as well as an apple borer; but the pests are not very numerous or destructive, and such little trees may easily be grown by the hundred.

Clean culture has one disadvantage which must be guarded against. If the ground under bushes is loose, heavy rains will sometimes so splash up the soil as to muddy the greater part of the fruit. I once suffered serious loss in this way, and deserved it; for a little grass mown from the lawn, or any other litter spread under and around the bushes just before the fruit ripened, would have prevented it. It will require but a very few minutes to insure a clean crop.

I imagine that if these pages are ever read, and such advice as I can give is followed, it will be more often by the mistress than the master of the Home Acre. I address him, but quite as often I mean her; and just at this point I am able to give "the power behind the throne" a useful hint. Miss Alcott, in her immortal "Little Women," has given an instance of what dire results may follow if the "jelly won't jell." Let me hasten to insure domestic peace by telling my fair reader (who will also be, if the jelly turns out of the tumblers tremulous yet firm, a gentle reader) that if she will have the currants picked just as soon as they are fully ripe, and before they have been drenched by a heavy rain, she will find that the jelly will "jell." It is overripe, water- soaked currants that break up families and demolish household gods. Let me also add another fact, as true as it is strange, that white currants make red jelly; therefore give the pearly fruit ample space in the garden.

In passing to the consideration of varieties, it is quite natural in this connection to mention the white sorts first. I know that people are not yet sufficiently educated to demand white currants of their grocers; but the home garden is as much beyond the grocer's stall as the home is better than a boarding-house. There is no reason why free people in the country should be slaves to conventionalities, prejudices, and traditions. If white currants ARE sweeter, more delicious and beautiful than the red, why, so they are. Therefore let us plant them abundantly.

If there is to be a queen among the currants, the White Grape is entitled to the crown. When placed upon the table, the dish appears heaped with translucent pearls. The sharp acid of the red varieties is absent, and you feel that if you could live upon them for a time, your blood would grow pure, if not "blue."

The bush producing this exquisite fruit is like an uncouth-looking poet who gives beauty from an inner life, but disappoints in externals. It is low-branching and unshapely, and must be forced into good form—the bush, not the poet—by the pruning-knife. If this is done judiciously, no other variety will bear more profusely or present a fairer object on a July day.

The White Dutch has the well-known characteristics in growth of the common Red Dutch currant, and is inferior only to the White Grape in size. The fruit is equally transparent, beautiful, mild, and agreeable in flavor, while the bush is enormously productive, and shapely in form, if properly trained and fertilized.

While the white currants are such favorites, I do not undervalue the red. Indeed, were I restricted to one variety, it should be the old Dutch Red of our fathers, or, more properly, of our grandmothers. For general house uses I do not think it has yet been surpassed. It is not so mild in flavor as the white varieties, but there is a richness and sprightliness in its acid that are grateful indeed on a sultry day. Mingled with the white berries, it makes a beautiful dish, while it has all the culinary qualities which the housekeeper can desire. If the bush is rigorously pruned and generously enriched, it is unsurpassed in productiveness, and the fruit approaches very nearly to the Cherry currant in size.

I do not recommend the last-named kind for the home garden, unless large, showy fruit counts for more than flavor. The acid of the Cherry currant, unless very ripe, is harsh and watery. At best it never acquires an agreeable mildness, to my taste. The bushes also are not so certainly productive, and usually require skilful pruning and constant fertilizing to be profitable. For the market, which demands size above all things, the Cherry is the kind to grow; but in the home garden flavor and productiveness are the more important qualities. Fay's Prolific is a new sort that has been very highly praised.

The Victoria is an excellent late variety, which, if planted in a sheltered place, prolongs the currant-season well into the autumn. Spurious kinds are sold under this name. The true Victoria produces a pale-red fruit with tapering clusters or racemes of berries. This variety, with the three others recommended, gives the family two red and two white kinds—all that are needed. Those who are fond of black currants can, at almost any nursery, procure the Black Naples and Lee's Prolific. Either variety will answer all practical purposes. I confess they are not at all to my taste.

From the currant we pass on naturally to the gooseberry, for in origin and requirements it is very similar. Both belong to the Ribes family of plants, and they are to be cultivated on the same general principles. What I have written in regard to partial shade, cool, sheltered localities, rich, heavy soils, good culture, and especially rigorous pruning, applies with even greater force to this fruit, especially if we endeavor to raise the foreign varieties, in cultivating this fruit it is even more important than was true of raspberries that the reader should distinguish between the native and foreign species. The latter are so inclined to mildew in almost every locality that there is rarely any certainty of satisfactory fruit. The same evil pursues the seedling children of the foreign sorts, and I have never seen a hybrid or cross between the English and native species that was with any certainty free from a brown disfiguring rust wholly or partially enveloping the berries. Here and there the fruit in some gardens will escape year after year; again, on places not far away, the blighting mildew is sure to appear before the berries are fully grown. Nevertheless, the foreign varieties are so fine that it is well to give them a fair trial. The three kinds which appear best adapted to our climate are Crown Bob, Roaring Lion, and Whitesmith. A new large variety, named Industry, is now being introduced, and if half of what is claimed for it is true, it is worth a place in all gardens.

In order to be certain of clean, fair gooseberries every year, we must turn to our native species, which has already given us several good varieties. The Downing is the largest and best, and the Houghton the hardiest, most productive and easily raised. When we remember the superb fruit which English gardeners have developed from wild kinds inferior to ours, we can well understand that the true American gooseberries are yet to be developed. In my work "Success with Small Fruits" those who are interested in this fruit will find much fuller treatment than is warranted in the present essay.

Not only do currants and gooseberries require similar treatment and cultivation, but they also have a common enemy that must be vigilantly guarded against, or the bushes will be defoliated in many localities almost before its existence is known. After an absence of a few days I have found some of my bushes stripped of every leaf. When this happens, the fruit is comparatively worthless. Foliage is as necessary to a plant as are lungs to a man. It is not essential that I should go into the natural history of the currant worm and moth. Having once seen the yellowish-green caterpillars at their destructive work, the reader's thoughts will not revert to the science of entomology, but will at once become bloody and implacable. I hasten to suggest the means of rescue and vengeance. The moment these worms appear, be on your guard, for they usually spread like fire in stubble. Procure of your druggist white hellebore, scald and mix a tablespoonful in a bowl of hot water, and then pour it in a full watering-can. This gives you an infusion of about a tablespoonful to an ordinary pail of water at its ordinary summer temperature. Sprinkle the infected bushes with this as often as there is a worm to be seen. I have never failed in destroying the pests by this course. It should be remembered, however, that new eggs are often hatched out daily. You may kill every worm to-day, yet find plenty on the morrow. Vigilance, however, will soon so check the evil that your currants are safe; and if every one would fight the pests, they would eventually be almost exterminated. The trouble is that, while you do your duty, your next-door neighbor may grow nothing on his bushes but currant-worms. Thus the evil is continued, and even increased, in spite of all that you can do; but by a little vigilance and the use of hellebore you can always save YOUR currants. I have kept my bushes green, luxuriant, and loaded with fruit when, at a short distance, the patches of careless neighbors were rendered utterly worthless. Our laws but half protect the birds, the best insecticides, and there is no law to prevent a man from allowing his acres to be the breeding-place of every pest prevailing.

There are three species of the currant-borer, and their presence is indicated by yellow foliage and shrivelling fruit. The only remedy is to cut out and burn the affected stems. These pests are not often sufficiently numerous to do much harm.

I earnestly urge that virulent poisons like Paris green, London purple, etc., never be used on fruit or edible vegetables. There cannot be safety in this course. I never heard of any one that was injured by white hellebore, used as I have directed; and I have found that if the worms were kept off until the fruit began to ripen, the danger was practically over. If I had to use hellebore after the fruit was fit to use, I should first kill the worms, and then cleanse the bushes thoroughly by spraying them with clean water.

In treating the two remaining small fruits, blackberries and strawberries, we pass wholly out of the shade and away from trees. Sunshine and open ground are now required. Another important difference can also be mentioned, reversing former experience. America is the home of these fruits. The wild species of the blackberry abroad has never, as far as I can learn, been developed into varieties worthy of cultivation; and before importations from North and South America began, the only strawberry of Europe was the Alpine, with its slight variations, and the musky Hautbois.

I do not know whether any of our fine varieties of blackberries are cultivated abroad, but I am perfectly certain that they are worthy of the slight attention required to raise them in perfection here.

Like the blackcaps, all our best varieties are the spontaneous products of Nature, first discovered growing wild, and transferred to the garden. The blackberry is a fruit that takes kindly to cultivation, and improves under it.

The proper treatment is management rather than cultivation and stimulation. It requires a sunny exposure and a light, warm soil, yet not so dry as to prevent the fruit from maturing into juicy berries. If possible, set the blackberries off by themselves, for it is hard to prevent the strong roots from travelling all over the garden. The blackberry likes a rich, moist, mellow soil, and, finding it, some varieties will give you canes sixteen feet high. You do not want rank, thorny brambles, however, but berries. Therefore the blackberry should be put where it can do no harm, and, by a little judicious repression, a great deal of good. A gravelly or sandy knoll, with a chance to mow all round the patch, is the best place. The blackberry needs a deep, loose soil rather than a rich one. Then the roots will luxuriate to unknown depths, the wood ripen thoroughly, and the fruit be correspondingly abundant.

Let the rows be six feet apart; set out the plants in the fall, if possible, or EARLY spring; put two plants in the hills, which may be four feet apart. If the ground is very poor, give the young plants a shovelful of old compost, decayed leaves, etc. Any fertilizer will answer, so that it is spread just over the roots to give the plants a good send-off.

As a rule, complete success in blackberry culture consists in a little judicious work performed in May, June, and July. The plants, having been set out as I have advised in the case of raspberries, throw up the first season strong green shoots. When these shoots are three feet high, pinch off the top, so as to stop upward growth. The result of this is that branches start on every side, and the plant forms a low, stocky, self-supporting bush, which will be loaded with fruit the following season.

The second year the plants in the hill will send up stronger canes, and there will be plenty of sprouts or suckers in the intervening spaces. When very young, these useless sprouts can be pulled out with the least possible trouble. Left to mature, they make a thorny wilderness which will cause bleeding hands and faces when attacked, and add largely to the family mending. That which a child could do as play when the suckers were just coming through the ground, is now a formidable task for any man. In early summer you can with the utmost ease keep every useless blackberry sprout from growing. More canes, also, will usually start from the hill than are needed. Leave but three strong shoots, and this year pinch them back as soon as they are four feet high, thus producing three stocky, well-branched bushes, which in sheltered places will be self-supporting. Should there be the slightest danger of their breaking down with their load of fruit, tie them to stakes by all means. I do not believe in that kind of economy which tries to save a penny at the risk of a dollar.

I believe that better and larger fruit is always secured by shortening in the side branches one-third of their length in spring. Fine varieties like the Kittatinny are not entirely hardy in all localities. The snow will protect the lower branches, and the upper ones can usually be kept uninjured by throwing over them some very light litter, like old pea or bean vines, etc.—nothing heavy enough to break them down. As soon as the old canes are through bearing, they should be cut out. If the blackberry patch has been left to its own wild will, there is nothing left for us but to attack it, well-gloved, in April, with the pruning-shears, and cut out everything except three or four young canes in the hill. These will probably be tall, slender, and branchless, therefore comparatively unproductive. In order to have any fruit at all, we must shorten them one-third, and tie them to stakes. It thus may be clearly seen that with blackberries "a stitch in time" saves almost ninety-nine. Keep out coarse weeds and grass, and give fertilizers only when the plants show signs of feebleness and lack of nutrition.

A rust similar to that which attacks the black-cap is almost the only disease we have to contend with. The remedy is the same— extirpation of the plant, root and branch.

After testing a great many kinds, I recommend the three following varieties, ripening in succession for the family—the Early Harvest, Snyder, and Kittatinny. These all produce rich, high- flavored berries, and, under the treatment suggested, will prove hardy in nearly all localities. This fruit is not ripe as soon as it is black, and it is rarely left on the bushes until the hard core in the centre is mellowed by complete maturity. I have found that berries picked in the evening and stood in a cool place were in excellent condition for breakfast. To have them in perfection, however, they must be so ripe as to drop into the basket at the slightest touch; then, as Donald Mitchell says, they are "bloated bubbles of forest honey."

I fancy the reader is as impatient to reach the strawberry as I am myself. "Doubtless God could have made a better berry"—but I forbear. This saying has been quoted by the greater part of the human race, and attributed to nearly every prominent man, from Adam to Mr. Beecher. There are said to be unfortunates whom the strawberry poisons. The majority of us feel as if we could attain Methuselah's age if we had nothing worse to contend with. Praising the strawberry is like "painting the lily;" therefore let us give our attention at once to the essential details of its successful culture.

As we have intimated before, this fruit as we find it in our gardens, even though we raise foreign kinds, came originally from America. The two great species, Fragaria chilensis, found on the Pacific slope from Oregon to Chili, and Fragaria virginiana, growing wild in all parts of North America east of the Rocky Mountains, are the sources of all the fine varieties that have been named and cultivated. The Alpine strawberry (Fragaria vesca), which grows wild throughout the northern hemisphere, does not appear capable of much variation and development under cultivation. Its seeds, sown under all possible conditions, reproduce the parent plant. Foreign gardeners eventually learned, however, that seeds of the Chili and Virginia strawberry produced new varieties which were often much better than their parents. As time passed, and more attention was drawn to this subject, superb varieties were originated abroad, many of them acquiring a wide celebrity. In this case, as has been true of nearly all other fruits, our nursery-men and fruit-growers first looked to Europe for improved varieties. Horticulturists were slow to learn that in our own native species were the possibilities of the best success. The Chili strawberry, brought directly from the Pacific coast to the East, is not at home in our climate, and is still more unfitted to contend with it after generations of culture in Europe. Even our hardier Virginia strawberry, coming back to us from England after many years of high stimulation in a moist, mild climate, is unequal to the harsher conditions of life here. They are like native Americans who have lived and been pampered abroad so long that they find this country "quite too rude, you know— beastly climate." Therefore, in the choice varieties, and in developing new ones, the nearer we can keep to vigorous strains of our own hardy Virginia species the better. From it have proceeded and will continue to come the finest kinds that can be grown east of the Rockies. Nevertheless, what was said of foreign raspberries is almost equally true of European strawberries like the Triomphe de Gand and Jucunda, and hybrids like the Wilder. In localities where they can be grown, their beauty and fine flavor repay for the high culture and careful winter protection required. But they can scarcely be made to thrive on light soils or very far to the south.

So many varieties are offered for sale that the question of choice is a bewildering one. I have therefore sought to meet it, as before, by giving the advice of those whose opinions are well entitled to respect.

Dr. Hexamer, who has had great and varied experience, writes as follows: "A neighbor of mine who has for years bought nearly every new strawberry when first introduced, has settled on the Duchess and Cumberland as the only varieties he will grow in the future, and thinks it not worth while to seek for something better. Confined to two varieties, a more satisfactory selection could scarcely be made. But you want six or seven, either being, I think, about the right number for the home garden. I will give them in the order of desirability according to my judgment— Cumberland, Charles Downing, Duchess, Mount Vernon, Warren, Sharpless, Jewell."

The selection which places the Cumberland Triumph at the head of the list is but another proof how kinds differ under varied conditions. On my place this highly praised sort is but moderately productive and not high-flavored, although the fruit is very large and handsome. I regard the list, however, as a most excellent one for most localities.

The Hon. Marshall P. Wilder's choice for the latitude of Massachusetts: "Charles Downing, Wilder, Hervey Davis, Sharpless, Cumberland, Kentucky. Jewell is very promising." A. S. Fuller, for latitude of New York: "Charles Downing, Sharpless, Miner's Prolific, Wilson's Albany, Champion." P. C. Berckmans, for the latitude of Georgia: "Wilson, Sharpless, Charles Downing, Triomphe de Gand, Glendale." The Hon. Norman J. Colman's choice for Missouri and the West: "Crescent, Captain Jack, Cumberland, Champion, Hart's Minnesota, Cornelia."

If I gave a hundred other lists, no two of them probably would agree in all respects. Mr. Downing often said to me, "Soil, climate, and locality make greater differences with the strawberry than with any other fruit." This is far more true of some varieties than others. I believe that the excellent kind named after Mr. Downing, if given proper treatment, will do well almost anywhere on the continent. It will be noted that it is on all the lists except one. I should place it at the head of garden strawberries. It is a kind that will endure much neglect, and it responds splendidly to generous, sensible treatment. Its delicious flavor is its chief recommendation, as it should be that of every berry for the home garden.

I have tested many hundreds of kinds, and have grown scores and scores that were so praised when first sent out that the novice might be tempted to dig up and throw away everything except the wonderful novelty pressed upon his attention. There is one quiet, effective way of meeting all this heralding and laudation, and that is to make trial beds. For instance, I have put out as many as seventy kinds at nearly the same time, and grown them under precisely the same conditions. Some of the much-vaunted new-comers were found to be old varieties re-named; others, although sold at high prices and asserted to be prodigies, were seen to be comparatively worthless when growing by the side of good old standard sorts; the majority never rose above mediocrity under ordinary treatment; but now and then one, like the Sharpless, fulfilled the promises made for it.

In my next chapter I shall venture to recommend those varieties which my own experience and observation have shown to be best adapted to various soils and localities, and shall also seek to prove that proper cultivation has more to do with success than even the selection of favored kinds.

Nor would I seek to dissuade the proprietor of the Home Acre from testing the many novelties offered. He will be sure to get a fair return in strawberries, and to his interest in his garden will add the pleasure and anticipation which accompany uncertain experiment. In brief, he has found an innocent form of gambling, which will injure neither pocket nor morals. In slow-maturing fruits we cannot afford to make mistakes; in strawberries, one prize out of a dozen blanks repays for everything.



CHAPTER VII

STRAWBERRIES

There is a very general impression that light, dry, sandy soils are the best for the strawberry. Just the reverse of this is true. In its desire for moisture it is almost an aquatic plant. Experienced horticulturists have learned to recognize this truth, which the Hon. Marshall P. Wilder has suggested in the following piquant manner: "In the first place, the strawberry's chief need is a great deal of water. In the second place, it needs more water. In the third place, I think I should give it a great deal more water."

While emphasizing this truth the reader should at the same time be warned against land whereon water stands above the surface in winter and spring, or stagnates beneath the surface at any time. Moisture is essential to the best results; good drainage is equally so. The marvellous crops of strawberries raised in California under well-directed systems of irrigation should teach us useful lessons. The plants, instead of producing a partially developed crop within a few brief days, continue in bearing through weeks and months. It may often be possible to supply abundantly on the Home Acre this vital requirement of moisture, and I shall refer to this point further on.

My first advice in regard to strawberries is to set them out immediately almost anywhere except upon land so recently in grass that the sod is still undecayed. This course is better than not to have the fruit at all, or to wait for it A year without strawberries is a lost year in one serious respect. While there is a wide difference between what plants can do under unfavorable conditions and what they can be made to do when their needs are fully met, they will probably in any event yield a fair supply of delicious fruit. Secure this as soon as possible. At the same time remember that a plant of a good variety is a genius capable of wonderful development. In ordinary circumstances it is like the "mute, inglorious" poets whose enforced limitations were lamented by the poet Gray; but when its innate powers and gifts are fully nourished it expands into surprising proportions, sends up hundreds of flowers, which are followed by ruby gems of fruit whose exquisite flavor is only surpassed by its beauty. No such concentrated ambrosia ever graced the feasts of the Olympian gods, for they were restricted to the humble Fragaria vesca, or Alpine species. In discovering the New World, Columbus also discovered the true strawberry, and died without the knowledge of this result of his achievement.

I can imagine the expression on the faces of those who buy the "sour, crude, half-ripe Wilsons," against which the poet Bryant inveighed so justly. The market is flooded with this fruit because it bears transportation about as well as would marbles. Yes, they are strawberries; choke-pears and Seckels belong to the same species. There is truth enough in my exaggeration to warrant the assertion that if we would enjoy the possible strawberry, we must raise it ourselves, and pick it when fully matured—ready for the table, and not for market. Then any man's garden can furnish something better than was found in Eden.

Having started a strawberry-patch without loss of time wherever it is handiest, we can now give our attention to the formation of an ideal bed. In this instance we must shun the shade of trees above, and their roots beneath. The land should be open to the sky, and the sun free to practice his alchemy on the fruit the greater part of the day. The most favorable soil is a sandy loam, verging toward clay; and it should have been under cultivation sufficiently long to destroy all roots of grass and perennial weeds. Put on the fertilizer with a free hand. If it is barnyard manure, the rate of sixty tons to the acre is not in excess. A strawberry plant has a large appetite and excellent digestion. It prefers decidedly manure from the cow-stable, though that from the horse-stable answers very well; but it is not advisable to incorporate it with the soil in its raw, unfermented state, and then to plant immediately. The ground can scarcely be too rich for strawberries, but it may easily be overheated and stimulated. In fertilizing, ever keep in mind the two great requisites—moisture and coolness. Manure from the horse-stable, therefore, is almost doubled in value as well as bulk if composted with leaves, muck, or sods, and allowed to decay before being used.

Next to enriching the soil, the most important step is to deepen it. If a plow is used, sink it to the beam, and run it twice in a furrow. If a lifting subsoil-plow can follow, all the better. Strawberry roots have been traced two feet below the surface.

If the situation of the plot does not admit the use of a plow, let the gardener begin at one side and trench the area to at least the depth of eighteen inches, taking pains to mix the surface, subsoil, and fertilizer evenly and thoroughly. A small plot thus treated will yield as much as one three or four times as large. One of the chief advantages of thus deepening the soil is that the plants are insured against their worst enemy—drought. How often I have seen beds in early June languishing for moisture, the fruit trusses lying on the ground, fainting under their burden, and the berries ripening prematurely into little more than diminutive collections of seeds! When ground has been deepened as I have said, the drought must be almost unparalleled to arrest the development of the fruit. Even in the most favorable seasons, hard, shallow soils give but a brief period of strawberries, the fruit ripens all at once, and although the first berries may be of good size, the later ones dwindle until they are scarcely larger than peas. Be sure to have a deep, mellow soil beneath the plants.

Such a bed can be made in either spring or fall—indeed, at any time when the soil is free from frost, and neither too wet nor dry. I do not believe in preparing and fertilizing ground during a period of drought.

We will suppose the work has been done in the spring, as early as the earth was dry enough to crumble freely, and that the surface of the bed is smooth, mellow, and ready for the plants. Stretch a garden line down the length of the plot two feet from the outer edge, and set the plants along the line one foot apart from each other. Let the roots be spread out, not buried in a mat, the earth pressed FIRMLY against them, and the crown of the plant be exactly even with the surface of the soil, which should also be pressed closely around it with the fingers. This may seem minute detail, yet much dismal experience proves it to be essential. I have employed scores of men, and the great majority at first would either bury the crowns out of sight, or else leave part of the roots exposed, and the remainder so loose in the soil that a sharp gale would blow the plants away. There is no one so economical of time as the hired man whose time is paid for. He is ever bent on saving a minute or half-minute in this kind of work. On one occasion I had to reset a good part of an acre on which my men had saved time in planting. If I had asked them to save the plants in the year of '86, they might have "struck."

The first row having been set out, I advise that the line be moved forward three feet. This would make the rows three feet apart—not too far in ground prepared as described, and in view of the subsequent method of cultivation. The bed may therefore be filled up in this ratio, the plants one foot apart in the row, and the rows three feet apart. The next point in my system, for the kind of soil named (for light, sandy soils another plan will be indicated), is to regard each plant as an individual that is to be developed to the utmost. Of course only young plants of the previous season's growth should be used. If a plant has old, woody, black roots, throw it away. Plants set out in April will begin to blossom in May. These buds and blossoms should be picked off ruthlessly as soon as they appear. Never does avarice overreach itself more completely than when plants are permitted to bear the same season in which they are set out. The young, half- established plant is drained of its vitality in producing a little imperfect fruit; yet this is permitted even by farmers who would hold up their hands at the idea of harnessing a colt to a plow.

The plants do not know anything about our purpose in regard to them. They merely seek to follow the law of Nature to propagate themselves, first by seeds which, strictly speaking, are the fruit, and then by runners. These slender, tendril-like growths begin to appear early in summer, and if left unchecked will mat the ground about the parent with young plants by late autumn. If we wish plants, let them grow by all means; but if fruit is our object, why should we let them grow? "Because nearly every one seems to do it," would be, perhaps, the most rational answer. This is a mistake, for many are beginning to take just the opposite course even when growing strawberries by the acre.

Let us fix our attention on a single plant. It has a certain amount of root pasturage and space in which to grow. Since it is not permitted to produce an indefinite number of young plants, it begins to develop itself. The soil is rich, the roots are busy, and there must be an outlet. The original plant cannot form others, and therefore begins to produce fruit-crowns for the coming year. All the sap, all the increasing power of root and foliage, are directed to preparation for fruit. In brief, we have got the plant in traces; it is pulling in the direction we wish, it will eventually deliver a load of berries which would surprise those who trust simply to Nature unguided.

Some one may object that this is a troublesome and expensive way of growing strawberries. Do not the facts in the case prove the reverse? A plant restricted to a single root can be hoed and worked around like a hill of corn or a currant-bush. With comparatively little trouble the ground between the rows can be kept clean and mellow. Under the common system, which allows the runners to interlace and mat the ground, you soon have an almost endless amount of hand-weeding to do, and even this fails if white clover, sorrel, and certain grasses once get a start. The system I advocate forbids neglect; the runners must be clipped off as fast as they appear, and they continue to grow from June till frost; but the actual labor of the year is reduced to a minimum. A little boy or girl could keep a large bed clipped by the occasional use of a shears or knife before breakfast; and if the ground between the plants is free of runners, it can be hoed over in an hour. Considering, therefore, merely the trouble and expense, the single-plant system has the facts in its favor. But our object is not to grow strawberry plants with the least trouble, but to have strawberries of the largest and finest quality.

In addition to ease and thoroughness of cultivation, there are other important advantages. The single narrow row of plants is more easily protected against winter's frosts. Light, strawy manure from the horse-stable serves well for this purpose; but it should be light and free from heat. I have seen beds destroyed by too heavy a covering of chunky, rank manure. It is not our purpose to keep the beds and plants from freezing, but from alternately freezing and thawing. If snow fell on the bed in December and lasted till April, no other protection would be needed. Nature in this latitude has no sympathy for the careless man. During the winter of 1885, in January, and again in February and March, the ground was bare, unprotected plants were badly frozen, and in many instances lifted partly out of the ground by midday thawing and night freezing. The only safe course is to cover the rows thoroughly, but not heavily, early in December. If then light stable-manure is not at hand, leaves, old bean-vines, or any dry refuse from the garden not containing injurious seeds will answer. Do not employ asparagus-tops, which contain seed. Of course we want this vegetable, but not in the strawberry bed. Like some persons out of their proper sphere, asparagus may easily become a nuisance; and it will dispossess other growths of their rights and places as serenely as a Knight of Labor. The proper balance must be kept in the garden as well as in society; and therefore it is important to cover our plants with something that will not speedily become a usurper. Let it be a settled point, then, that the narrow rows must be covered thoroughly out of sight with some light material which will not rest with smothering weight on the plants or leave among them injurious seeds. Light stable-manure is often objected to for the reason that employing it is like sowing the ground with grass-seed. If the plants had been allowed to grow in matted beds, I would not use this material for a winter covering, unless it had been allowed to heat sufficiently to destroy the grass and clover seed contained in it. I have seen matted beds protected with stable-manure that were fit to mow by June, the plants and fruit having been over run with grass. No such result need follow if the plants are cultivated in a single line, for then the manure can be raked off in early spring—first of April in our latitude—and the ground cultivated. There is a great advantage in employing light manure if the system I advocate is followed, for the melting snows and rains carry the richness of the fertilizer to the roots, and winter protection serves a double purpose.

We will now consider the proper management for the second year, when a full crop should be yielded. I know that many authorities frown upon cultivation during the second spring, before plants bear their fruit. I can not agree with this view, except in regard to very light soils, and look upon it as a relic of the old theory that sandy land was the best for strawberries. Take the soil under consideration, a sandy loam, for instance. After the frost is out, the earth settled, and the winter covering raked off, the soil under the spring sun grows hard, and by June is almost as solid as a roadbed. Every one knows that land in such condition suffers tenfold more severely from drought than if it were light and mellow from cultivation. Perennial weeds that sprouted late in the fall or early spring get a start, and by fruiting-time are rampant. I do advocate EARLY spring cultivation, and by it I almost double my crop, while at the same time maintaining a mastery over the weeds.

As soon as the severe frosts are over, in April, I rake the coarsest of the stable-manure from the plants, leaving the finer and decayed portions as a fertilizer. Then, when the ground is dry enough to work, I have a man weed out the rows, and if there are vacant spaces, fill in the rows with young plants. The man then forks the ground lightly between the rows, and stirs the surface merely among the plants. Thus all the hard, sodden surface is loosened or scarified, and opened to the reception of air and light, dew and rain. The man is charged emphatically that in this cultivation he must not lift the plants or disturb the roots to any extent. If I find a plant with its hold upon the ground loosened, I know there has been careless work. Before digging along the row the fork is sunk beside the plants to prevent the soil from lifting in cakes, and the plants with them. In brief, pains are taken that the plants should be just as firm in the soil after cultivation as before. Let the reader carefully observe that this work is done EARLY in April, while the plants are comparatively DORMANT. Most emphatically it should not be done in May, after the blossoms begin to appear. If the bed has been neglected till that time, the SURFACE MERELY can be cultivated with a hoe. When the plants have approached so near to the fruiting, the roots must not be disturbed at all. EARLY cultivation gives time for new roots to grow, and stimulates such growth. Where the rows are sufficiently long, and the ground permits it, this early loosening of the soil is accomplished with a horse-cultivator better than with a fork, the hoe following and levelling the soil and taking out all weeds.

My next step during the second season is to mulch the plants, in order to keep the fruit clean. Without this mulch the fruit is usually unfit for the table. A dashing shower splashes the berries with mud and grit, and the fruit must be washed before it is eaten; and strawberries with their sun-bestowed beauty and flavor washed away are as ridiculous as is mere noise from musical instruments. To be content with such fruit is like valuing pictures by the number of square inches of canvas! In perfecting a strawberry, Nature gives some of her finest touches, and it is not well to obliterate them with either mud or water. Any light clean material will keep the fruit clean. I have found spring rakings of the lawn—mingled dead grass and leaves—one of the best. Leaves from a grove would answer, were it not for their blowing about in an untidy way. Of course there is nothing better than straw for the strawberry; but this often costs as much as hay. Any clean litter that will lie close to the ground and can be pushed up under the plants will answer. Nor should it be merely under the plants. A man once mulched my rows in such a way that the fruit hung over the litter on the soil beyond. A little common-sense will meet the requirement of keeping the berries well away from the loose soil, while at the same time preserving a neat aspect to the bed. Pine-needles and salt-hay are used where these materials are abundant.

Make it a rule to mulch as soon as possible after the plants begin to blossom, and also after a good soaking rain. In this case the litter keeps the ground moist. If the soil immediately about the plants is covered when dry, the mulch may keep it dry—to the great detriment of the forming berries. It is usually best to put on the mulch as soon as the early cultivation is over in April, and then the bed may be left till the fruit is picked. Of course it may be necessary to pull out some rank-growing weeds from time to time. If the hired man is left to do the mulching very late in the season, he will probably cover much of the green fruit and blossoms as well as the ground.

After the berries have been picked, the remaining treatment of the year is very simple. Rake out the mulch, cultivate the soil, and keep the plants free of weeds and runners as during the previous year. Before hard freezing weather, protect again as before, and give the plants similar treatment the following spring and summer. Under this system the same plants may be kept in bearing three, four, and five years, according to the variety. Some kinds maintain their vigor longer than others. After the first year the disposition to run declines, and with the third year, in most instances, deterioration in the plant itself begins. I would therefore advise that under this system a new bed be made, as described, every third year; for, it should be remembered, the new bed is unproductive the first year. This should never be forgotten if one would maintain a continuous supply of berries, otherwise he will be like those born on the 29th of February, and have only occasional birthdays.

If the old bed is just where you wish, and has been prepared in the thorough manner described, it can be renewed in the following manner: When the old plants begin to decline in vigor—say the third or fourth spring—a line of well-decayed compost and manure from the cow-stable a foot wide may be spread thickly down between the rows, dug under deeply, and young plants set out just over the fertilizer. The old plants can be treated as has already been described, and as soon as they are through bearing, dug under. This would leave the young plants in full possession of the ground, and the cultivation and management for three or more years would go on as already directed. This course involves no loss of time or change of ground for a long periods. If, however, a new bed can be made somewhere else, the plants will thrive better upon it. Unless there are serious objections, a change of ground is always advantageous; for no matter how lavishly the plot is enriched, the strawberry appears to exhaust certain required constituents in the soil. Continued vigor is better maintained by wood-ashes perhaps than by any other fertilizer, after the soil is once deepened and enriched, and it may be regarded as one of the very best tonics for the strawberry plant. Bone-meal is almost equally good. Guano and kindred fertilizers are too stimulating, and have not the staying qualities required.

As has been intimated before, the strawberry bed may often be so located on the Home Acre as to permit of irrigation. This does not mean sprinkling and splattering with water, but the continuous maintenance of abundant moisture during the critical period from the time the fruit begins to form until it ripens. Partial watering during a drought is very injurious; so also would be too frequent watering. If the ground could be soaked twice a week in the evening, and then left to the hardening and maturing influence of the sun and wind, the finest results would be secured. I am satisfied that in most localities the size of the berries and the number of quarts produced might be doubled by judicious irrigation.

The system given above applies not only to sandy loam, but also to all varieties of clay, even the most stubborn. In the latter instance it would be well to employ stable-manure in the initial enriching, for this would tend to lighten and warm the soil. Care must also be exercised in not working clay when it is too wet or too dry. Mulch also plays an important part on heavy clay, for it prevents the soil from baking and cracking. One of the best methods of preventing this is to top-dress the ground with stable- manure, and hoe it in from time to time when fighting the weeds. This keeps the surface open and mellow—a vital necessity for vigorous growth. Few plants will thrive when the surface is hard and baked. Nevertheless, if I had to choose between heavy clay and light sand for strawberries, I should much prefer the clay. On the last-named soil an abundant winter protection is absolutely necessary, or else the plants will freeze entirely out of the ground.

The native strain of cultivated strawberries has so much vigor and power of adaptation that plenty of excellent varieties can be grown on the lightest soil. In this instance, however, we would suggest important modifications in preparation and culture. The soil, as has been already shown, must be treated like a spendthrift. Deep plowing or spading should be avoided, as the subsoil is too loose and leachy already. The initial enriching of the bed should be generous, but not lavish. You cannot deposit fertilizers for long-continued use. I should prefer to harrow or rake in the manure, leaving it near the surface. The rains will carry it down fast enough. One of the very best methods is to open furrows, three feet apart, with a light corn-plow, half fill them with decayed compost, again run the plow through to mix the fertilizer with the soil, then level the ground, and set out the plants immediately over the manure. They thus get the benefit of it before it can leach away. The accomplished horticulturist Mr. P. T. Quinn, of Newark, N. J., has achieved remarkable success by this plan.

It is a well-known fact that on light land strawberry plants are not so long-lived and do not develop, or "stool out," as it is termed, as on heavier land. In order to secure the largest and best possible crop, therefore, I should not advise a single line of plants, but rather a narrow bed of plants, say eighteen inches wide, leaving eighteen inches for a walk. I would not allow this bed to be matted with an indefinite number of little plants crowding each other into feeble life, but would leave only those runners which had taken root early, and destroy the rest. A plant which forms in June and the first weeks in July has time to mature good-sized fruit-buds before winter, especially if given space in which to develop. This, however, would be impossible if the runners were allowed to sod the ground thickly. In principle I would carry out the first system, and give each plant space in which to grow upon its own root as large as it naturally would in a light soil, and I would have a sufficient number of plants to supply the deficiency in growth. On good, loamy soil, the foliage of single lines of plants, three feet apart, will grow so large as to touch across the spaces; but this could scarcely be expected on light soil unless irrigation were combined with great fertility. Nevertheless, a bed with plants standing not too thickly upon it will give an abundance of superb fruit.

Strawberries grown in beds may not require so much spring mulching to keep the fruit clean, but should carefully receive all that is needed. Winter protection also is not so indispensable as on heavier soils, but it always well repays. A thick bed of plants should never be protected by any kind of litter which would leave seeds of various kinds, for under this system of culture weeds must be taken out by hand; and this is always slow, back-aching work.

When plants are grown in beds it does not pay to continue them after fruiting the third year. For instance, they are set out in spring, and during the first season they are permitted to make a limited number of runners, and prepare to fruit the following year. After the berries are picked the third year, dig the plants under, and occupy the ground with something else. On light soils, and where the plants are grown in beds instead of narrow rows, new beds should be set out every alternate year.

In order to have an abundant supply of young plants it is only necessary to let one end of a row or a small portion of a bed run at will. Then new plants can be set out as desired.

While more strawberries are planted in spring than at any other time, certain advantages are secured by summer and fall setting. This is especially true of gardens wherein early crops are maturing, leaving the ground vacant. For instance, there are areas from which early peas, beans, or potatoes have been gathered. Suppose such a plot is ready for something else in July or August, the earlier the better. Unless the ground is very dry, a bed can be prepared as has been described. If the soil is in good condition, rich and deep, it can be dug thoroughly, and the plants set out at once in the cool of the evening, or just before a shower. During the hot season a great advantage is secured if the plants are set immediately after the ground is prepared, and while the surface is still moist. It is unfortunate if ground is made ready and then permitted to dry out before planting takes place, for watering, no matter how thorough, has not so good an influence in starting new growth as the natural moisture of the soil. It would be better, therefore, to dig the ground late in the afternoon, and set out the plants the same evening. Watering, however, should never be dispensed with during warm weather, unless there is a certainty of rain; and even then it does no harm.

Suppose one wishes to set a new bed in July. If he has strawberries growing on his place, his course would be to let some of his favorite varieties make new runners as early as possible. These should be well-rooted young plants by the middle of the month. After the new ground is prepared, these can be taken up, with a ball of earth attached to their roots, and carried carefully to their new starting-place. If they are removed so gently as not to shake off the earth from the roots, they will not know that they have been moved, but continue to thrive without wilting a leaf. If such transplanting is done immediately after a soaking rain, the soil will cling to the roots so tenaciously as to ensure a transfer that will not cause any check of growth. But it is not necessary to wait for rain. At five in the afternoon soak with water the ground in which the young plants are standing, and by six o'clock you can take up the plants with their roots incased in clinging earth, just as successfully as after a rain. Plants thus transferred, and watered after being set out, will not wilt, although the thermometer is in the nineties the following day. If young plants are scarce, take up the strongest and best- rooted ones, and leave the runner attached; set out such plants with their balls of earth four feet apart in the row, and with a lump of earth fasten down the runners along the line. Within a month these runners will fill up the new rows as closely as desirable. Then all propagation in the new bed should be checked, and the plants compelled to develop for fruiting in the coming season. In this latitude a plant thus transferred in July or August will bear a very good crop the following June, and the berries will probably be larger than in the following years. This tendency to produce very large fruit is characteristic of young plants set out in summer. It thus may be seen that plants set in spring can not produce a good crop of fruit under about fourteen months, while others, set in summer, will yield in nine or ten months. I have set out many acres in summer and early autumn with the most satisfactory results. Thereafter the plants were treated in precisely the same manner as those set in spring.

If the plants must be bought and transported from a distance during hot weather, I should not advise the purchase of any except those grown in pots. Nurserymen have made us familiar with pot- grown plants, for we fill our flowerbeds with them. In like manner strawberry plants are grown and sold. Little pots, three inches across at the top, are sunk in the earth along a strawberry row, and the runners so fastened down that they take root in these pots. In about two weeks the young plant will fill a pot with roots. It may then be severed from the parent, and transported almost any distance, like a verbena. Usually the ball of earth and roots is separated from the pot, and is then wrapped in paper before being packed in the shallow box employed for shipping purposes. A nurseryman once distributed in a summer throughout the country a hundred thousand plants of one variety grown in this manner. The earth encasing the roots sustained the plants during transportation and after setting sufficiently to prevent any loss worth mentioning. This method of the plant-grower can easily be employed on the Home Acre. Pots filled with earth may be sunk along the strawberry rows in the garden, the runners made to root in them, and from them transferred to any part of the garden wherein we propose to make a new bed. It is only a neater and more certain way of removing young plants with a ball of earth from the open bed.

Some have adopted this system in raising strawberries for market. They prepare very rich beds, fill them with pot-grown plants in June or July, take from these plants one crop the following June, then plow them under. As a rule, however, such plants cannot be bought in quantities before August or September.

As we go south, September, October, or November, according to lowness of latitude, are the favorite months for planting. I have had excellent success on the Hudson in late autumn planting. My method has been to cover the young plants, just before the ground froze, with two or three inches of clean earth, and then to rake it off again early in April. The roots of such plants become thoroughly established during the winter, and start with double vigor. Plants set out in LATE autumn do best on light, dry soils. On heavy soils they will be frozen out unless well covered. They should not be allowed to bear the following season. A late-set plant cannot before winter in our climate become strong and sturdy enough to produce much fruit the following season. I make it a rule not to permit plants set out after the first of October to bear fruit until a year from the following June.

In setting out plants, the principle of sex should be remembered. The majority of our favorite varieties are bisexual; that is, the blossoms are furnished with both stamens and pistils. A variety with this organization, as the Sharpless, for instance, will bear alone with no other kind near it. But if one set out a bed of Champions—another fine variety—well apart from any staminate kind, it would blossom profusely, but produce no fruit. When I was a boy, Hovey's Seedling was the great strawberry of the day, and marvellous stories were told of the productiveness of the plants and the size of the berries. How well I remember the disappointment and wrath of people who bought the plants at a high price, and set them out with no staminate varieties near to fertilize the pistillate blossoms. Expectations were raised to the highest pitch by profuse blossoming in May, but not a berry could be found the ensuing June. The vigorous plants were only a mockery, and the people who sold them were berated as humbugs. To- day the most highly praised strawberry is the Jewell. The originator, Mr. P. M. Augur, writes me that "plants set two feet by eighteen inches apart, August 1, 1884, in June, 1885, completely covered the ground, touching both ways, and averaged little over a quart to the plant for the centre patch." All runners were kept off, in accordance with the system advocated in this paper. "At Boston a silver medal was awarded to this variety as the best new strawberry introduced within five years." People reading such laudation—well deserved, I believe—might conclude the best is good enough for us, and send for enough Jewell plants to set out a bed. If they set no others near it, their experience would be similar to that which I witnessed in the case of Hovey's Seedling thirty odd years ago. The blossom of the Jewell contains pistils only, and will produce no fruit unless a staminate variety is planted near. I have never considered this an objection against a variety; for why should any one wish to raise only one variety of strawberry? All danger of barrenness in pistillate kinds is removed absolutely by planting staminate sorts in the same bed. In nurserymen's catalogues pistillate varieties are marked "P.," and the purchaser has merely to set out the plants within a few feet of some perfect flowering kind to secure abundant fruit.

As a result of much experience, I will now make some suggestions as to varieties. In a former paper I have given, the opinions of others upon this important subject, and one can follow the advice of such eminent authorities without misgiving. The earliest strawberry that I have ever raised, and one of the best flavored, is the Crystal City. It is evidently a wild variety domesticated, and it has the exquisite flavor and perfume of the field-berry. It rarely fails to give us fruit in May, and my children, with the unerring taste of connoisseurs, follow it up until the last berry is picked. It would run all over the garden unchecked; and this propensity must be severely curbed to render a bed productive. Keeping earliness and high flavor in view, I would next recommend the Black Defiance. It is not remarkably productive on many soils, but the fruit is so delicious that it well deserves a place. The Duchess and Bidwell follow in the order of ripening. On my grounds they have always made enormous plants, and yielded an abundance of good-flavored berries. The Downing is early to medium in the season of ripening, and should be in every collection. The Indiana is said to resemble this kind, and to be an improvement upon it. Miner's Prolific is another kindred berry, and a most excellent one. Among the latest berries I recommend the Sharpless Champion, or Windsor Chief, and Parry. If one wishes to raise a very large, late, showy berry, let him try the Longfellow. The Cornelia is said to grow very large and ripen late, but I have not yet fruited it. As I said fifteen or twenty years ago, if I were restricted to but one variety, I should choose the Triomphe de Gand, a foreign kind, but well adapted to rich, heavy soils. The berries begin to ripen early, and last very late. The Memphis Late has always been the last to mature on my grounds, and, like the Crystal City, is either a wild variety, or else but slightly removed. The Wilson is the great berry of commerce. It is not ripe when it is red, and therefore is rarely eaten in perfection. Let it get almost black in its ripeness, and it is one of the richest berries in existence. With a liberal allowance of sugar and cream, it makes a dish much too good for an average king. It is also the best variety for preserving.

It should be remembered that all strawberries, unlike pears, should be allowed to mature fully before being picked. Many a variety is condemned because the fruit is eaten prematurely. There is no richer berry in existence than the Windsor Chief, yet the fruit, when merely red, is decidedly disagreeable.

The reader can now make a selection of kinds which should give him six weeks of strawberries. At the same time he must be warned that plants growing in a hard, dry, poor soil, and in matted beds, yield their fruit almost together, no matter how many varieties may have been set out. Under such conditions the strawberry season is brief indeed.

While I was writing this paper the chief enemy of the strawberry came blundering and bumping about my lamp—the May beetle. The larva of this insect, the well-known white grub, has an insatiable appetite for strawberry roots, and in some localities and seasons is very destructive. One year I lost at least one hundred thousand plants by this pest. This beetle does not often lay its egg in well-cultivated ground, and we may reasonably hope to escape its ravages in a garden. If, when preparing for a bed, many white grubs are found in the soil, I should certainly advise that another locality be chosen. The only remedy is to dig out the larvae and kill them. If you find a plant wilting without apparent cause, you may be sure that a grub is feeding on the roots. The strawberry plant is comparatively free from insect enemies and disease, and rarely disappoints any one who gives it a tithe of the attention it deserves.

There are many points in connection with this fruit which, in a small treatise like this, must be merely touched upon or omitted altogether. I may refer those who wish to study the subject more thoroughly to my work, "Success with Small Fruits."



CHAPTER VIII

THE KITCHEN-GARDEN

The garden should be open to the sky, and as far as possible unshaded by adjacent trees from the morning and afternoon sun. It is even more essential that the trees be not so near that their voracious roots can make their way to the rich loam of the garden.

Now for the soil. We should naturally suppose that that of Eden was a deep sandy loam, with not too porous a subsoil. As we have already seen again and again, such a soil appears to be the laboratory in which we can assist Nature to develop her best products. But Nature has a profound respect for skill, and when she recognizes it, "lends a hand" in securing excellent crops from almost drifting sand or stubborn clay. She has even assisted the Hollander in wresting from the ocean one of the gardens of the world.

We must again dwell on the principles already emphasized, that soils must be treated according to their nature. If too damp, they must be drained; if of the fortunate quality of a sandy loam resting on a clay subsoil, they can be abundantly deepened and enriched from the start, if of a heavy clay, inclined to be cold and wet in spring, and to bake and crack in summer, skill should aim to lighten it and remove its inertia; finally, as we have shown, a light, porous soil should be treated like a spendthrift. All soils, except the last-named, are much the better for being enriched and deeply plowed or forked in October or November. This exposes the mould to the sweetening and mechanical action of frost, and the fertilizers incorporated with it are gradually transformed into just that condition of plant food which the rootlets take up with the greatest ease and rapidity. A light soil, on the contrary, should not be worked in autumn, but be left intact after the crops are taken from it.

In one respect a light soil and a stiff, heavy one should be treated in the same way, but for different reasons. In the first instance, fertilizers should be applied in moderation to the surface, and rains and the cultivation of the growing crops depended upon to carry the richness downward to the roots. The porous nature of the earth must ever be borne in mind; fertilizers pass through it and disappear, and therefore are applied to the surface, to delay this process and enable the roots to obtain as much nutriment as possible during the passage. Equal and even greater advantages are secured by a top-dressing of barnyard manures and composts to the heaviest of clay. The surface of such soils, left to Nature, becomes in hot, dry weather like pottery, baking and cracking, shielding from dew and shower, and preventing all circulation of air about the roots. A top-dressing prevents all this, keeps the surface open and mellow, and supplies not only fertility, but the mechanical conditions that are essential.

If we are now ready to begin, let us begin right. I have not much sympathy with finical, fussy gardening. One of the chief fascinations of gardening is the endless field it affords for skilful sleight of hand, short-cuts, unconventional methods, and experiments. The true gardener soon ceases to be a man of rules, and becomes one of strategy, of expedients. He is prompt to act at the right moment. Like the artist, he is ever seeking and acting upon hints from Nature. The man of rules says the first of July is the time to set out winter cabbage; and out the plants go, though the sky be brazen, and the mercury in the nineties. The gardener has his plants ready, and for a few days watches the sky. At last he perceives that rain is coming; then he sets out his plants, and Nature's watering starts them, unwilted, on their new growth.

At the same time I protest against careless, slovenly gardening— ground imperfectly prepared, crooked rows, seed half covered, or covered so deeply that the germs are discouraged long before they reach light. One of the best aids to success is a small compost- heap composed equally of manure from the horse-stable, the cow- stable, and of leaves. This should be allowed to stand so long, and be cut down and turned so often, that it becomes like a fine black powder, and is much the better for being kept under shelter from sun and rain.

All who hope to have a permanent garden will naturally think first of asparagus—one of the vegetables that have bee a longest in cultivation, and one which is justly among the most valued. It was cultivated hundreds of years before the Christian era, and is to- day growing in popular esteem among civilized peoples.

In the matter of preparation I shall take issue with many of the authorities. I have read and known of instances wherein extraordinary expense and pains have been bestowed upon the asparagus-bed. The soil has been dug out to the depth of two or more feet, the bottom paved, and the homely, hardy roots, accustomed to roughing it the world over, set out and tended with a care which, if given to a potato, would make it open its eyes. There are few more hardy or widely distributed species of vegetables than asparagus. It is "a native of the sea-coasts of various countries of Europe and Asia." According to Loudon, it is abundant on the sandy steppes in the interior of Russia. In Southern Russia and Poland the horses and cows feed upon it. It grows freely in the fens of Lincolnshire, and is indigenous to Cornwall. On the borders of the Euphrates the shoots are so extraordinarily large and vigorous that Thompson thinks it would be to the advantage of gardeners to import roots from that region. These facts may indicate that too much stress may have been laid on its character as a marine plant. Yet it is true that it grows naturally on the coast of Holland, in the sandy valleys and on the downs, while off Lizard Point it flourishes naturally on an island where, in gales, the sea breaks over the roots. In this country also it has escaped cultivation, and is establishing itself along our coasts, The truth is that it is a plant endowed with a remarkable power of adaptation to all soils and climates, and does not need the extravagant petting often given it. On different portions of my place chance seeds have fallen, and annually produce almost as fine heads as are cut from the garden. Nature therefore teaches what experience verifies—that asparagus is one of the most easily grown and inexpensive vegetables of the garden. From two small beds we have raised during the past eight years twice as much as we could use, and at the cost of very little trouble either in planting or cultivation.

In my effort to show, from the hardy nature of the asparagus plant, that extravagant preparation is unnecessary, let no one conclude that I am opposed to a good, thorough preparation that accords with common-sense. It is not for one year's crop that you are preparing, but for a vegetable that should be productive on the same ground thirty or forty years. What I said of strawberries applies here. A fair yield of fruit may be expected from plants set out on ordinary corn-ground, but more than double the crop would be secured from ground generously prepared.

When I first came to Cornwall, about twelve years ago, I determined to have an asparagus bed as soon as possible. I selected a plot eighty feet long by thirty wide, of sandy loam, sloping to the southwest. It had been used as a garden before, but was greatly impoverished. I gave it a good top-dressing of barnyard manure in the autumn, and plowed it deeply; another top- dressing of fine yard manure and a deep forking in the early spring. Then, raking the surface smooth, I set a line along its length on one side. A man took a spade, sunk its length in the soil, and pushed it forward strongly. This action made an almost perpendicular wedge-shaped aperture just back of the spade. The asparagus plant, with its roots spread out fan-shape, was sunk in this opening to a depth that left the crown of the plant between three and four inches below the surface. Then the spade was drawn out, and the soil left to fall over the crown of the plant. Rapidly repeating this simple process, the whole plot was soon set out. The entire bed was then raked smooth. The rows were three feet apart, and plants one foot apart in the row. A similar plot could scarcely have been planted with potatoes more quickly or at less expense, and a good crop of potatoes could not have been raised on that poor land with less preparation. A few years later I made another and smaller bed in the same way. The results have been entirely satisfactory. I secured my object, and had plenty of asparagus at slight cost, and have also sold and given away large quantities. A bit of experience is often worth much more than theory.

At the same time it is proper that some suggestions should follow this brief record. The asparagus bed should be in well-drained soil; for while the plant will grow on wet land, it will start late, and our aim is to have it early.

Again, with asparagus as with nearly everything else, the deeper and richer the soil, the larger and more luxuriant the crop. Listen to Thompson, the great English gardener: "If the ground has been drained, trenched, or made good to the depth of THREE feet, as directed for the kitchen-garden generally [!], that depth will suffice for the growth of asparagus." We should think so; yet I am fast reaching the conclusion that under most circumstances it would in the end repay us to secure that depth of rich soil throughout our gardens, not only for asparagus, but for everything else. Few of the hasty, slipshod gardeners of America have any idea of the results secured by extending root pasturage to the depth of three feet instead of six or seven inches; soil thus prepared would defy flood and drought, and everything planted therein would attain almost perfection, asparagus included. But who has not seen little gardens by the roadside in which all the esculents seemed growing together much as they would be blended in the pot thereafter? Yet from such patches, half snatched from barrenness, many a hearty, wholesome dinner results. Let us have a garden at once, then improve it indefinitely.

I will give in brief just what is essential to secure a good and lasting asparagus bed. We can if we choose grow our own plants, and thus be sure of good ones. The seed can be sown in late October or EARLY spring on light, rich soil in rows eighteen inches apart. An ounce of seed will sow fifty feet of drill. If the soil is light, cover the seed one inch deep; if heavy, half an inch; pack the ground lightly, and cover the drill with a good dusting of that fine compost we spoke of, or any fine manure. This gives the young plants a good send-off. By the use of the hoe and hand-weeding keep them scrupulously clean during the growing season, and when the tops are killed by frost mow them off. I should advise sowing two or three seeds to the inch, and then when the plants are three inches high, thinning them out so that they stand four inches apart. You thus insure almost the certainty of good strong plants by autumn; for plants raised as directed are ready to be set out after one season's growth, and by most gardeners are preferred.

In most instances good plants can be bought for a small sum from nurserymen, who usually offer for sale those that are two years old. Strong one-year-olds are just as good, but under ordinary culture are rarely large enough until two years of age. I would not set out three-year-old plants, for they are apt to be stunted and enfeebled. You can easily calculate how many plants you require by remembering that the rows are to be three feet apart, and the plants one foot apart in the row.

Now, whether you have raised the plants yourself, or have bought them, you are ready to put them where they will grow, and yield to the end of your life probably. Again I substantiate my position by quoting from the well-known gardener and writer, Mr. Joseph Harris: "The old directions for planting an asparagus bed were well calculated to deter any one from making the attempt. I can recollect the first I made. The labor and manure must have cost at the rate of a thousand dollars an acre, and, after all was done, no better results were obtained than we now secure at one-tenth of the expense."

If the ground selected for the bed is a well-drained sandy loam, is clean, free from sod, roots, stones, etc., I would give it a top-dressing of six inches of good barnyard manure, which by trenching or plowing I would thoroughly mix with the soil to the depth of at least two feet. If the ground is not free from stones, roots, and sod, I should put on the manure, as directed, in the autumn, and begin on one side of the prospective bed and trench it all over, mingling the fertilizer through the soil. The trencher can throw out on the surface back of him every stone, root, and weed, so that by the time he is through there is a sufficient space of ground amply prepared.

On all soils except a wet, heavy clay I prefer autumn planting. During the latter part of October or early November put in the plants as explained above, or else make a straight trench that will give room for the spreading of the roots, and leave the crowns between three and four inches below the surface. Then level the ground, and cover the row with a light mulch of stable-manure as you would strawberries. If more convenient to set out the plants in spring, do so as soon as the ground is dry enough to crumble freely when worked. In the spring rake off the mulch, and as early as possible fork the ground over lightly, taking pains not to touch or wound the crowns of the plants. The young, slender shoots will soon appear, and slender enough they will be at first. Keep them free of weeds and let them grow uncut all through the first year; mow off the tops in late October, and cover the entire bed with three or four inches of coarse barnyard manure. In spring rake off the coarsest of this mulch, from which the rains and melting snows have been carrying down richness, dig the bed over lightly once (never wounding the roots or crowns of the plants), and then sow salt over the bed till it is barely white. Let the tops grow naturally and uncut the second year, and merely keep clean. Take precisely the same action again in the autumn and the following spring. During the latter part of April and May a few of the strongest shoots may be cut for the table. This should be done with a sharp knife a little below the surface, so that the soil may heal the wound, and carefully, lest other heads just beneath the surface be clipped prematurely. Cut from the bed very sparingly, however, the third year, and let vigorous foliage form corresponding root-power. In the autumn of the third and the spring of the fourth year the treatment is precisely the same. In the fourth season, however, the shoots may be used freely to, say, about June 20, after which the plants should be permitted to grow unchecked till fall, in order to maintain and increase the root- power. Every year thereafter there should be an abundant top- dressing of manure in the fall, and a careful digging of the ground in the early spring. Light, sandy soil, clear of stones, is well adapted to asparagus, but should be treated on the principles already indicated in this work. There should be no attempt, by trenching, to render a porous subsoil more leaky. It is useless to give the bed a thorough initial enriching. Put on a generous top- dressing every autumn and leave the rains to do their work, and good crops will result.

If, on the contrary, a cold, heavy clay must be dealt with, every effort should be made to ameliorate it. Work in a large quantity of sand at first, if possible; employ manures from the horse- stable, or other light and exciting fertilizers, and there will be no failure.

In regard to the use of salt, Mr. Harris writes: "It is a popular notion that common salt is exceedingly beneficial to asparagus. I do not know that there is any positive proof of this, but, at any rate, salt will do no harm, even if applied thick enough to kill many of our common weeds. Salt is usually sown broadcast, at the rate of ten bushels to the acre."

Until recently I have grown asparagus without salt. Hereafter I shall employ it in sufficient degree to kill all weeds except the strongest. I shall sow it every spring after the bed is dug until the ground is as white as if a flurry of snow had passed over it. I think salt is a good manure for asparagus, and many other things. At any rate, we secure a great advantage in keeping our beds free of weeds.

I have written thus fully of asparagus because when a man makes a bed as directed he makes it for a lifetime. He can scarcely find another investment that will yield a larger return. We have asparagus on our table every day, from the middle of April to July 1; and the annual care of the crop is far less than that of a cabbage-patch. I do not advise severe cutting, however, after the middle of June, for this reason: it is well known that the most pestiferous perennial weed can be killed utterly if never allowed to make foliage. As foliage depends upon the root, so the root depends on foliage. The roots of asparagus may therefore be greatly enfeebled by too severe and long-continued cutting. Avarice always overreaches itself.

In some localities the asparagus beetle destroys whole plantations. Thompson, the English authority, says: "The larvae, beetles, and eggs are found from June to the end of September. Picking off the larvae and beetles, or shaking them into receptacles, appears to be the only remedy."

Peter Henderson, in his valuable book, "Gardening for Profit," figures this insect and its larvae accurately, and says: "Whenever the eggs or larvae appear, cut and burn the plants as long as any traces of the insect are seen. This must be done if it destroys every vestige of vegetation." He and other authorities speak of the advantage of cooping a hen and chickens in the bed. Most emphatically would I recommend this latter course, for I have tried it with various vegetables. Active broods of little chickens here and there in the garden are the best of insecticides, and pay for themselves twice over in this service alone.

We will next speak of the ONION, because it is so hardy that the earlier it is planted in spring the better. Indeed, I have often, with great advantage, sown the seed on light soils the first of September, and wintered over the young plants in the open ground. Nature evidently intended the onion for humanity in general, for she has endowed the plant with the power to flourish from the tropics to the coldest limit of the temperate zone.

While onions are grown in all sorts of careless ways, like other vegetables, it is by far the best plan to select a space for an annual and permanent bed, just as we do for asparagus. Unlike most other crops, the onion does not require change of ground, but usually does better on the same soil for an indefinite number of years. Therefore I would advise that upon the Home Acre the onion, like the asparagus bed, should be made with a view to permanence.

Not much success can be hoped for on rough, poor land. The onion, like the asparagus bed, should be made and maintained with some care. If possible, select a light, well-drained, but not dry plot. Make the soil rich, deep, mellow, to the depth of twenty inches, taking out all stones, roots, etc.; cover the land with at least six inches of good strong barnyard manure. This should be done in the autumn. Sow the ground white with salt, as in the case of asparagus, and then mingle these fertilizers thoroughly with the soil, by forking or plowing it at once, leaving the surface as rough as possible, so that the frost can penetrate deeply. Just as soon as the ground is dry enough to work in the spring, fork or plow again, breaking every lump and raking all smooth, so that the surface is as fine as the soil in a hot-bed. You cannot hope for much in heavy, lumpy ground. Sow at least three seeds to the inch in a shallow drill one inch deep, and spat the earth firmly over the seed with the back of a spade or with your hand. In subsequent culture little more is required than keeping the MERE SURFACE stirred with a hoe, and the rows clean of weeds. Onions are not benefited by deep stirring of the soil, but the surface, from the start, should be kept clean and scarified an inch or two deep between the rows during the growing season. I prefer to have my onions growing at the rate of one or two to every inch of row, for I do not like large bulbs. I think that moderate-sized onions are better for the table. Those who value largeness should thin out the plants to three or four inches apart; but even in the market there is less demand for large, coarse onions. When the tops begin to fall over from their own weight, in August or September, leave them to mature and ripen naturally. When the tops begin to dry up, pull them from the soil, let them dry thoroughly in the sun, and then spread them thinly in a dry loft till there is danger of their freezing. Even there they will keep better, if covered deeply with straw, hay, etc., than in a damp cellar. Wherever the air is damp and a little too warm, onions will speedily start to grow again, and soon become worthless. After the crop has been taken, the ground should be treated as at first—thoroughly enriched and pulverized late in autumn, and left to lie in a rough state during the winter, then prepared for planting as early as possible. I prefer March sowing of the seed to April, and April, by far, to May. In England they try to plant in February. Indeed, as I have said, I have had excellent success by sowing the seed early in September on light soils, and letting the plants grow during all the mild days of fall, winter, and early spring. By this course we have onions fit for the table and market the following May. In this latitude they need the protection of a little coarse litter from December 1 to about the middle of March. Only the very severest frost injures them. Most of us have seen onions, overlooked in the fall gathering, growing vigorously as soon as the thaws began in spring. This fact contains all the hint we need in wintering over the vegetable in the open ground. If the seed is sown late in September, the plants do not usually acquire sufficient strength in this latitude to resist the frost. It is necessary, therefore, to secure our main crop by very early spring sowings, and it may be said here that after the second thorough pulverization of the soil in spring, the ground will be in such good condition that, if well enriched and stirred late in autumn, it will only need levelling down and smoothing off before the spring sowing. Onions appear to do best on a compact soil, if rich, deep, and clean. It is the SURFACE merely that needs to be stirred lightly and frequently.

If young green onions with thin, succulent tops are desired very early in spring, it will be an interesting experiment to sow the seed the latter part of August or early in September. Another method is to leave a row of onions in the garden where they ripened. When the autumn rains begin, they will start to grow again. The winter will not harm them, and even in April there will be a strong growth of green tops. The seed stalk should be picked off as soon as it appears in spring, or else the whole strength will speedily go to the formation of seed.

It should be remembered that good onions can not be produced very far to the south by sowing the small gunpowder-like seed. In our own and especially in warmer climates a great advantage is secured by employing what are known as "onion sets." These are produced by sowing the ordinary black seed very thickly on light poor land. Being much crowded, and not having much nutriment, the seed develop into little onions from the size of a pea to that of a walnut, the smaller the better, if they are solid and plump. These, pressed or sunk, about three inches apart, into rich garden soil about an inch deep, just as soon as the frost is out, make fine bulbs by the middle of June. For instance, we had in our garden plenty of onions three inches in diameter from these little sets, while the seed, sown at the same time, will not yield good bulbs before August. There is but little need of raising these sets, for it is rather difficult to keep them in good condition over the winter. Any seedsman will furnish them, and they are usually on sale at country stores. Three or four quarts, if in good condition, will supply a family abundantly, and leave many to be used dry during the autumn. Insist on plump little bulbs. If you plant them early, as you should, you will be more apt to get good sets. Many neglect the planting till the sets are half dried up, or so badly sprouted as to be wellnigh worthless. They usually come in the form of white and yellow sets, and I plant an equal number of each.

The chief insect enemies are onion maggots, the larvae of the onion fly. These bore through the outer leaf and down into the bulb, which they soon destroy. I know of no remedy but to pull up the yellow and sickly plants, and burn them and the pests together. The free use of salt in the fall, and a light top- dressing of wood-ashes at the time of planting, tend to subdue these insects; but the best course is prevention by deeply cultivating and thoroughly enriching in the fall, leaving the ground rough and uneven for the deep action of frost, and by sowing the seed VERY early in spring. I have found that the insect usually attacks late-sown and feeble plants. If the maggot were in my garden, I should use the little sets only.

Some special manures have been employed in attaining the greatest success with this vegetable. In England, pigeon-dung and the cleanings of the pigsty are extensively employed. In this country the sweepings of the hen-roost are generally recommended. It should be remembered that all these are strong agents, and if brought in contact with the roots of any vegetable while in a crude, undiluted state, burn like fire, especially in our climate. What can be done in safety in England will not answer under our vivid sun and in our frequent droughts. These strong fertilizers could be doubled in value as well as bulk by being composted with sods, leaves, etc., and then, after having been mixed, allowed to decay thoroughly. Then the compost can be used with great advantage as a top-dressing directly over the drills when either sets or seeds are planted. The spring rains will carry the richness from the surface to the roots, and insure a very vigorous growth. When the compost named in the early part of this paper is used, I sow it thickly IN the drill, draw a pointed hoe through once more, to mingle the fertilizer with the soil, and then forthwith sow the seeds or put in the sets one inch deep; and the result is immediate and vigorous growth. Wood-ashes and bone-dust are excellent fertilizers, and should be sown on the surface on the row as soon as planted, and gradually worked in by weeding and cultivation during the growing season. Manure from the pigsty, wherein weeds, litter, sods, muck, etc., have been thrown freely during the summer, may be spread broadcast over the onion bed in the autumn, and worked in deeply, like the product of the barnyard. The onion bed can scarcely be made too rich as long as the manure is not applied in its crude, unfermented state at the time of planting. Then, if the seed is put in very early, it grows too strongly and quickly for insects to do much damage.

Varieties.—Thompson in his English work names nineteen varieties with many synonyms; Henderson offers the seed of thirteen varieties; Gregory, of seventeen kinds. There is no need of our being confused by this latitude of choice. We find it in the great majority of fruits and vegetables offered by nurserymen and seedsmen. Each of the old varieties that have survived the test of years has certain good qualities which make it valuable, especially in certain localities. Many of the novelties in vegetables, as among fruits, will soon disappear; a few will take their place among the standard sorts. In the case of the kitchen, as well as in the fruit, garden, I shall give the opinion of men who have a celebrity as wide as the continent for actual experience, and modestly add occasionally some views of my own which are the result of observation.

As a choice for the home-garden, Mr. Henderson recommends the following varieties of onions: Extra Early Red, Yellow Globe Danvers, White Portugal or Silver Skin, and Southport Yellow Globe. Mr. Joseph Harris, the well-known and practical author: Yellow Danvers, Extra Early Large Bed, and White Globe. Mr. J. J. H. Gregory: New Queen, Early Yellow Acker, Yellow Danvers, Early Red Globe Danvers, Large Red Wethersfield. They all recommend onion sets. The Queen onion is quite distinct. For the home table, where earliness, as well as quality, size and quantity is desired, I think the Queen deserves a place. It is admirably fitted for pickling. I have tried all the varieties named, with good success, and grown some of the largest kinds to six inches in diameter.



CHAPTER IX

THE KITCHEN-GARDEN (concluded)

In the last chapter I dwelt somewhat at length on two vegetables for which thorough and enduring preparation is profitable. There is one other very early garden product which requires our attention during the first warm days of spring—rhubarb; sold in some instances under the name of "wine-plant." Wine is made from the juicy stalks, but it is an unwholesome beverage. The people call rhubarb "pie-plant;" and this term suggests its best and most common use, although when cooked as if it were a fruit, it is very grateful at a season when we begin to crave the subacid in our food.

Its cultivation is very simple. Those who propose to produce it largely for market will find it to their advantage to raise this plant from the seed; but for the Home Acre enough plants can be procured, at a moderate cost, from almost any nurseryman. In this instance, also, thorough preparation of the soil is essential, for the rhubarb bed, under good care, will last eight or ten years. A rich, deep, clean, warm soil is the chief essential. It belongs to that class of vegetables known as "gross feeders." During the first year, however, I would apply the fertiliser directly to the hills or plants. These are obtained by dividing the old roots, which may be cut to pieces downward so as to leave a single bud or "eye" surmounting a long tapering portion of root. Each division will make a new, vigorous plant, which should be set out so that the bud or crown is three inches below the surface in light soils, and two inches in heavy soils. The plants should be four feet apart each way, and two or three shovelfuls of rich compost worked into the soil where the plant is to stand. You cannot make the ground too rich; only remember that in this, as in all other instances, light, fermenting manures should not be brought into immediate contact with the roots. Plant in either autumn or spring. In this latitude and southward I should prefer autumn; northward, perhaps spring is the best season. Keep the intervening ground clean and mellow, and pull no stalks the first year, unless it be in the autumn if the plants have become very strong. In the fall, when the foliage has died down, cover the crowns with two or three shovelfuls of rich manure—any kind will do in this instance—and work in a heavy top-dressing all over the ground early in spring. Unless seed is required, always cut down the seed-stalks as soon as they appear. The best early variety is the Linnaeus. The Victoria is a little later, but much larger, and is the kind that I have usually grown.

Radish-seed may be sown one inch deep as soon as the ground is dry enough in spring, and if the vegetable is a favorite, the sowing may be repeated every two weeks. A common error is to sow the seed too thickly. A warm, RICH soil is all that is necessary to secure a crop.

What has been said about radishes applies equally to early turnips, with the exception that the plants when three inches high should be thinned so as to stand four inches apart. The ground for these vegetables should be very rich, so as to secure a very rapid growth; for otherwise they are attacked by a little white worm which soon renders them unfit for use. Mr. Harris recommends the following varieties of early radishes, and his selection coincides with my own experience: Bound Scarlet Turnip, French Breakfast, Rose (olive-shaped), Long Scarlet Short-top. Winter radishes: California Mammoth White, and Chinese Rose. For spring sowing of turnips, Mr. Henderson recommends Red-top Strap-leaf, and Early Flat Dutch. The earlier they are sown the better.

Beets—a much more valuable vegetable—require similar treatment. The ground should be clean, well pulverized, and very rich. I prefer to sow the seed the first week in April, unless the soil is frozen, or very cold and wet. The seed may be sown, however, at any time to the first of July; but earliness is usually our chief aim. I sow two inches deep and thickly, pressing the soil firmly over the seed. Let the rows be about fifteen inches apart. Referring to the manure which had been left to decay in a sheltered place until it became like fine dry powder, let me say here that I have always found it of greater advantage to sow it with the beet-seed and kindred vegetables. My method is to open the drill along the garden-line with a sharp-pointed hoe, and scatter the fertilizer in the drill until the soil is quite blackened by it; then draw the pointed hoe through once more, to mingle the powdery manure with the soil and to make the drill of an even depth; then sow the seed at once. This thoroughly decayed stable-manure has become the best of plant-food; it warms the ground, and carries the germinating seed and young plants with vigor through the first cold, wet weeks.

In the home garden there are several reasons for sowing beet-seed thickly. Unfavorable weather and insects will be less apt to cause a thin, broken stand of plants. In order to produce good roots, however, the plants should be thinned out so as to stand eventually three or four inches apart I do not advise very large, coarse roots for the table. For home use I think only three varieties are essential. The Egyptian Turnip Beet is the best very early variety, and can be planted closely, as it has a small top; the Bassano is next in earliness, and requires more room; the Early Blood Turnip is the best for a general crop and winter use. The beet is a root which deteriorates rapidly from age; I therefore advise that the seed of the winter supply be sown the last of June or first of July in our latitude.