Notwithstanding the rigorous pruning recommended, the trees will often
overload themselves; and thinning out the young peaches when as large
as hickory nuts is almost imperative if we would secure good fruit. Men
of experience say that when a tree has set too much fruit, if
two-thirds of it are taken off while little, the remaining third will
measure and weigh more than would the entire crop, and bring three
times as much money. In flavor and beauty the gain will certainly be
more than double.

Throughout its entire growth and fruiting life the peach-tree needs
good cultivation, and also a good but not overstimulated soil.
Well-decayed compost from the cow-stable is probably the best barnyard
fertilizer. Wood-ashes are peculiarly agreeable to the constitution of
this tree, and tend to maintain it in health and bearing long after
others not so treated are dead. I should advise that half a peck be
worked in lightly every spring around each tree as far as the branches
extend. When enriching the ground about a tree, never heap the
fertilizer round the trunk, but spread it evenly from the stem outward
as far as the branches reach, remembering that the head above is the
measure of the root extension below. Air-slacked lime is also useful to
the peach in small quantities; and so, no doubt, would be a little salt
from time to time. Bone-meal is highly recommended.

Like other fruit-trees, the peach does not thrive on low, wet ground,
and the fruit-buds are much more apt to be winter-killed in such
localities. A light, warm soil is regarded as the most favorable.

Of course we can grow this fruit on espaliers, as they do abroad; but
there are few localities where any advantage is to be derived from this
course. In our latitude I much prefer cool northern exposures, for the
reason that the fruitbuds are kept dormant during warm spells in
winter, and so late in spring that they escape injury from frost.
Alternate freezing and thawing is more harmful than steady cold. The
buds are seldom safe, however, at any time when the mercury sinks ten
or fifteen degrees below zero.

As we have intimated, abuse of the peach-tree has developed a fatal
disease, known as the "yellows." It manifests itself in yellow, sickly
foliage, numerous and feeble sprouts along the larger limbs and trunk,
and small miserable fruit, ripening prematurely. I can almost taste the
yellows in much of the fruit bought in market. Some regard the disease
as very contagious; others do not. It is best to be on the safe side.
If a tree is affected generally, dig it out by the roots and burn it at
once; if only a branch shows evidence of the malady, cut it off well
back, and commit it to the flames. The only remedy is to propagate from
trees in sound health and vigor.

Like the apple, the peach-tree is everywhere subject to injury from a
borer, named "exitiosa, or the destructive." The eggs from which these
little pests are hatched are laid by the moth during the summer upon
the stem of the tree very near the root; the grubs bore through the
outer bark, and devour the inner bark and sap-wood. Fortunately they
soon reveal their evil work by the castings, and by the gum which
exudes from the hole by which they entered. They can not do much harm,
unless a tree is neglected; in this case, however, they will soon
enfeeble, and probably destroy it. When once within a tree, borers must
be cut out with a sharp-pointed knife, carefully yet thoroughly. The
wounds from the knife may be severe, but the ceaseless gnawing of the
grub is fatal. If the tree has been lacerated to some extent, a plaster
of moistened clay or cow-manure makes a good salve. Keeping the borers
out of the tree is far better than taking them out; and this can be
effected by wrapping the stem at the ground--two inches below the
surface, and five above--with strong hardware or sheathing paper. If
this is tied tightly about the tree, the moth cannot lay its eggs upon
the stem. A neighbor of mine has used this protection not only on the
peach, but also on the apple, with almost complete success. Of course
the pests will try to find their way under it, and it would be well to
take off the wrapper occasionally and examine the trees. The paper must
also be renewed before it is so far decayed as to be valueless. It
should be remembered also that the borer will attack the trees from the
first year of life to the end.

In order to insure an unfailing supply of this delicious fruit, I
should advise that a few trees be set out every spring. The labor and
expense are scarcely greater than that bestowed upon a cabbage patch,
and the reward is more satisfactory.

For this latitude the following choice of varieties will prove, I
think, a good one: Early Alexander, Early Elvers, Princess of Wales,
Brandywine, Old Mixon Free, Stump the World, Picquet's Late, Crawford's
Late, Mary's Choice, White Free Heath, Salway, and Lord Palmerston.

If the soil of one's garden is stiff, cold, adhesive clay, the peach
would succeed much better budded or grafted on plum-stocks. Some of the
finest fruit I have ever seen was from seedlings, the trees having been
grown from pits of unusually good peaches. While the autumn planting of
pits lightly in the soil and permitting them to develop into bearing
trees is a pleasing and often profitable amusement, there is no great
probability that the result will be desirable. We hear of the
occasional prizes won in this way, but not of the many failures.

By easy transition we pass to the kindred fruit the plum, which does
not generally receive the attention it deserves. If one has a soil
suited to it--a heavy clay or loam--it can usually be grown very
easily. The fruit is so grateful to the taste and useful to the
housekeeper that it should be given a fair trial, either in the garden
borders or wherever a tree can be planted so as to secure plenty of
light and air. The young trees may be one or two years old from the
bud; I should prefer the former, if vigorous. Never be induced to
purchase old trees by promises of speedy fruit. It is quite possible
you may never get any fruit at all from them worth mentioning. I should
allow a space of from ten to fifteen feet between the trees when they
are planted together, and I should cut them back so that they would
begin to branch at two feet from the ground. Long, naked stems are
subject to the gum-disease.

In the place of general advice in regard to this fruit I shall give the
experience of Mr. T. S. Force, of Newburgh, who exhibited seventy
varieties at the last annual Orange County fair.

His plum-orchard is a large poultry-yard, containing half an acre, of
which the ground is a good loam, resting on a heavy clay subsoil. He
bought trees but one year from the bud, set them out in autumn, and cut
them back so that they began to form their heads at two feet from the
ground. He prefers starting with strong young plants of this age, and
he did not permit them to bear for the first three years, his primal
aim being to develop a healthy, vigorous tree with a round, symmetrical
head. During this period the ground about them was kept mellow by good
cultivation, and, being rich enough to start with, received no
fertilizers. It is his belief that over-fertilization tends to cause
the disease so well known as the "black knot," which has destroyed many
orchards in this vicinity. If the garden has been enriched as I have
directed, the soil will probably need little, if anything, from the
stables, and certainly will not if the trees are grown in a
poultry-yard. During this growing and forming period Mr. Force gave
careful attention to pruning. Budded trees are not even symmetrical
growers, but tend to send up a few very strong shoots that rob the rest
of the tree of sustenance. Of course these must be cut well back in
early spring, or we have long, naked reaches of wood and a deformed
tree. It is far better, however, not to let these rampant shoots grow
to maturity, but to pinch them back in early summer, thus causing them
to throw out side-branches. By summer pinching and rubbing off of
tender shoots a tree can be made to grow in any shape we desire. When
the trees receive no summer pruning, Mr. Force advises that the
branches be shortened in at least one half in the spring, while some
shoots are cut back even more rigorously. At the age of four or five
years, according to the vigor of the trees, he permits them to bear.
Now cultivation ceases, and the ground is left to grow hard, but not
weedy or grassy, beneath the boughs. Every spring, just as the blossoms
are falling, he spreads evenly under the branches four quarts of salt.
While the trees thrive and grow fruitful with this fertilizer, the
curculio, or plum-weevil, does not appear to find it at all to its
taste. As a result of his methods, Mr. Force has grown large and
profitable crops, and his trees in the main are kept healthy and
vigorous. His remedy for the black knot is to cut off and burn the
small boughs and twigs affected. If the disease appears in the side of
a limb or in the stem, he cuts out all trace of it, and paints the
wound with a wash of gum shellac and alcohol.

Trees load so heavily that the plums rest against one another. You will
often find in moist warm weather decaying specimens. These should be
removed at once, that the infection may not spread.

In cutting out the interfering boughs, do not take off the
sharp-pointed spurs which are forming along the branches, for on these
are slowly maturing the fruit-buds. In this case, as in others, the
careful observer, after he has acquired a few sound principles of
action to start with, is taught more by the tree itself than from any
other source.

Mr. Force recommends the following ten varieties, named in the order of
ripening: Canada; Orleans, a red-cheeked plum; McLaughlin, greenish,
with pink cheek; Bradshaw, large red, with lilac bloom; Smith's
Orleans, purple; Green Gage; Bleeker's Gage, golden yellow; Prune
d'Agen, purple; Coe's Golden Drop; and Shropshire Damson for preserves.

If we are restricted to very light soils, we shall probably have to
grow some of the native varieties, of the Canada and Wild-Goose type.
In regard to both this fruit and peaches we should be guided in our
selection by information respecting varieties peculiarly suited to the
region.

The next chapter will treat of small fruits, beginning with the
raspberry.

CHAPTER V

THE RASPBERRY

The wide and favorable consideration given to small fruits clearly
marks one of the changes in the world's history. This change may seem
trifling indeed to the dignified chroniclers of kings and queens and
others of high descent--great descent, it may be added, remembering the
moral depths attained; but to those who care for the welfare of the
people, it is a mutation of no slight interest. I am glad to think, as
has been shown in a recent novel, that Lucrezia Borgia was not so black
as she has been painted; yet in the early days of June and July, when
strawberries and raspberries are ripening, I fancy that most of us can
dismiss her and her kin from mind as we observe Nature's alchemy in our
gardens. When we think of the luscious, health-imparting fruits which
will grace millions of tables, and remember that until recent years
they were conspicuous only by their absence, we may not slightingly
estimate a great change for the better. Once these fruits were wildings
which the vast majority of our forefathers shared sparingly with the
birds. Often still, unless we are careful, our share will be small
indeed; for the unperverted taste of the birds discovered from the
first what men have been so slow to learn--that the ruby-like berries
are the gems best worth seeking. The world is certainly progressing
toward physical redemption when even the Irish laborer abridges his
cabbage-patch for the sake of small fruits--food which a dainty Ariel
could not despise.

We have said that raspberries thrive in partial shade; and therefore
some advice in regard to them naturally follows our consideration of
trees. Because the raspberry is not so exacting as are many other
products of the garden, it does not follow that it should be marked out
for neglect. As it is treated on many places, the only wonder is that
even the bushes survive. Like many who try to do their best in
adversity, it makes the most of what people term "a chance to get
ahead."

Moreover, the raspberry is perhaps as often injured by mistaken
kindness as by neglect. If we can imagine it speaking for itself, it
would say: "It is not much that I want, but in the name of common-sense
and nature give me just what I do want; then you may pick at me to your
heart's content."

The first need of the raspberry is a well-drained but not a very dry,
light soil. Yet such is its adaptability that certain varieties can be
grown on any land which will produce a burdock or a mullien-stalk. In
fact, this question of variety chiefly determines our chances of
success and the nature of our treatment of the fruit. The reader, at
the start, should be enabled to distinguish the three classes of
raspberries grown in this country.

As was true of grapes, our fathers first endeavored to supply their
gardens from foreign nurseries, neglecting the wild species with which
our woods and roadsides abounded. The raspberry of Europe (Rubus
idaeus) has been developed, and in many instances enfeebled, by ages of
cultivation. Nevertheless, few other fruits have shown equal power to
adapt themselves to our soil and climate, and we have obtained from
foreign sources many valuable kinds--as, for instance, the Antwerp,
which for weeks together annually taxed the carrying power of Hudson
River steamers. In quality these foreign kinds have never been
surpassed; but almost invariably they have proved tender and
fastidious, thriving well in some localities, and failing utterly
(except under the most skilful care) in others. The frosts of the North
killed them in winter, and Southern suns shrivelled their foliage in
summer. Therefore they were not raspberries for the million, but for
those who resided in favored regions, and were willing to bestow upon
them much care and high culture.

Eventually another process began, taking place either by chance or
under the skilful manipulation of the gardener--that of hybridizing, or
crossing these foreign varieties with our hardier native species. The
best results have been attained more frequently, I think, by chance;
that is, the bees, which get more honey from the raspberry than from
most other plants, carried the pollen from a native flower to the
blossom of the garden exotic. The seeds of the fruit eventually
produced were endowed with characteristics of both the foreign and
native strains. Occasionally these seeds fell where they had a chance
to grow, and so produced a fortuitous seedling plant which soon matured
into a bearing bush, differing from, both of its parents, and not
infrequently surpassing both in good qualities. Some one
horticulturally inclined having observed the unusually fine fruit on
the chance plant, and believing that it is a good plan to help the
fittest to survive, marked the bush, and in the autumn transferred it
to his garden. It speedily propagated itself by suckers, or young
sprouts from the roots, and he had plants to sell or give away. Such, I
believe, was the history of the Cuthbert--named after the gentleman who
found it, and now probably the favorite raspberry of America.

Thus fortuitously, or by the skill of the gardener, the foreign and our
native species were crossed, and a new and hardier class of varieties
obtained. The large size and richness in flavor of the European berry
has been bred into and combined with our smaller and more insipid
indigenous fruit. By this process the area of successful raspberry
culture has been extended almost indefinitely.

Within recent years a third step forward has been taken. Some
localities and soils were so unsuited to the raspberry that no variety
containing even a small percentage of the foreign element could thrive.
This fact led fruit-growers to give still closer attention to our
native species. Wild bushes were found here and there which gave fruit
of such good quality and in such large quantities that they were deemed
well worthy of cultivation. Many of these wild specimens accepted
cultivation gratefully, and showed such marked improvement that they
were heralded over the land as of wonderful and surpassing value. Some
of these pure, unmixed varieties of our native species (Rubus
strigosus) have obtained a wide celebrity; as, for instance, the
Brandywine, Highland Hardy, and, best of all, the Turner. It should be
distinctly understood, however, that, with the exception of the
last-named kind, these native varieties are decidedly inferior to most
of the foreign berries and their hybrids or crosses, like the Cuthbert
and Marlboro. Thousands have been misled by their praise, and have
planted them when they might just as easily have grown far better
kinds. I suppose that many wealthy persons in the latitudes of New York
and Boston have told their gardeners (or more probably were told by
them): "We do not wish any of those wild kinds. Brinckle's Orange,
Franconia, and the Antwerp are good enough for us." So they should be,
for they are the best; but they are all foreign varieties, and scarcely
will live at all, much less be productive, in wide areas of the country.

I trust that this preliminary discussion in regard to red raspberries
will prepare the way for the advice to follow, and enable the
proprietor of the Home Acre to act intelligently. Sensible men do not
like to be told, "You cannot do this, and must not do that"--in other
words, to be met the moment they step into their gardens by the
arbitrary dictum of A, B, or C. They wish to unite with Nature in
producing certain results. Understanding her simple laws, they work
hopefully, confidently; and they cannot be imposed upon by those who
either wittingly or unwittingly give bad advice. Having explained the
natural principles on which I base my directions, I can expect the
reader to follow each step with the prospect of success and enjoyment
much enhanced.

The question first arising is, What shall we plant? As before, I shall
give the selection of eminent authorities, then suggest to the reader
the restrictions under which he should make a choice for his own
peculiar soil and climate.

Dr. F. M. Hexamer, the well-known editor of a leading horticultural
journal, is recognized throughout the land as having few, if any,
superiors in recent and practical acquaintance with small fruits. The
following is his selection: "Cuthbert, Turner, and Marlboro." The Hon.
Marshall P. Wilder's choice: "Brinckle's Orange, Franconia, Cuthbert,
Herstine, Shaffer." The Hon. Norman J. Colman, Commissioner of
Agriculture: "Turner, Marlboro, Cuthbert." P. J. Berckmans, of Georgia:
"Cuthbert, Hansel, Lost Rubies, Imperial Red." A. S. Fuller: "Turner,
Cuthbert, Hansel."

In analyzing this list we find three distinctly foreign kinds named:
the Orange, Franconia, and Herstine. If the last is not wholly of
foreign origin, the element of our native species enters into it so
slightly that it will not endure winters in our latitude, or the summer
sun of the South. For excellence, however, it is unsurpassed.

In the Cuthbert, Marlboro, and Lost Rubies we have hybrids of the
foreign and our native species, forming the second class referred to;
in the Turner and Hansel, examples of our native species unmixed. To
each of these classes might be added a score of other varieties which
have been more or less popular, but they would serve only to distract
the reader's attention. I have tested forty or fifty kinds side by side
at one time, only to be shown that four or five varieties would answer
all practical purposes. I can assure the reader, however, that it will
be scarcely possible to find a soil or climate where some of these
approved sorts will not thrive abundantly and at slight outlay.

Throughout southern New England, along the bank of the Hudson, and
westward, almost any raspberry can be grown with proper treatment.
There are exceptions, which are somewhat curious. For instance, the
famous Hudson River Antwerp, which until within a very few years has
been one of the great crops of the State, has never been grown
successfully to any extent except on the west bank of the river, and
within the limited area of Kingston on the north and Cornwall on the
south. The Franconia, another foreign sort, has proved itself adapted
to more extended conditions of soil and climate.

I have grown successfully nearly every well-known raspberry, and
perhaps I can best give the instruction I desire to convey by
describing the methods finally adopted after many years of observation,
reading, and experience. I will speak of the class first named,
belonging to the foreign species, of which I have tested many
varieties. I expect to set out this year rows of Brinckle's Orange,
Franconia, Hudson River Antwerp, and others. For this class I should
make the ground very rich, deep, and mellow. I should prefer to set out
the plants in the autumn--from the middle of October to the tenth of
November; if not then, in early spring--the earlier the better--while
the buds are dormant. I should have the rows four feet apart; and if
the plants were to be grown among the smaller fruit-trees, I should
maintain a distance from them of at least seven feet. I should use only
young plants, those of the previous summer's growth, and set them in
the ground about as deeply as they stood when taken up--say three or
four inches of earth above the point from which the roots branched. I
should put two well-rooted plants in each hill, and this would make the
hills four feet apart each way. By "hills" I do not mean elevations of
ground. This should be kept level throughout all future cultivation. I
should cut back the canes or stems of the plants to six inches.
Thousands of plants are lost or put back in their growth by leaving two
or three feet of the canes to grow the first year. Never do this. The
little fruit gained thus prematurely always entails a hundred-fold of
loss. Having set out the plants, I should next scatter over and about
them one or two shovelfuls of old compost or decayed manure of some
kind. If the plants had been set out in the fall, I should mound the
earth over them before freezing weather, so that there should be at
least four inches of soil over the tops of the stems. This little mound
of earth over the plants or hill would protect against all injury from
frost. In the spring I should remove these mounds of earth so as to
leave the ground perfectly level on all sides, and the shortened canes
projecting, as at first, six inches above the surface. During the
remainder of the spring and summer the soil between the plants chiefly
requires to be kept open, mellow, and free from weeds. In using the
hoe, be careful not to cut off the young raspberry sprouts, on which
the future crop depends. Do not be disappointed if the growth seems
feeble the first year, for these foreign kinds are often slow in
starting. In November, before there is any danger of the ground
freezing, I should cut back the young canes at least one-third of their
length, bend them gently down, and cover them with earth to the depth
of four or five inches. It must be distinctly remembered that very few
of the foreign kinds would endure our winter unprotected. Every autumn
they must be covered as I have directed. Is any one aghast at this
labor? Nonsense! Antwerps are covered by the acre along the Hudson. A
man and a boy would cover in an hour all that are needed for a garden.

After the first year the foreign varieties, like all others, will send
up too many sprouts, or suckers. Unless new plants are wanted, these
should be treated as weeds, and only from three to five young canes be
left to grow in each hill. This is a very important point, for too
often the raspberry-patch is neglected until it is a mass of tangled
bushes. Keep this simple principle in mind: there is a given amount of
root-power; if this cannot be expended in making young sprouts all over
the ground, it goes to produce a few strong fruit-bearing canes in the
hill. In other words, you restrict the whole force of the plant to the
precise work required--the giving of berries. As the original plants
grow older, they will show a constantly decreasing tendency to throw up
new shoots, but as long as they continue to grow, let only those
survive which are designed to bear the following season.

The canes of cultivated raspberries are biennial. A young and in most
varieties a fruitless cane is produced in one season; it bears in July
the second year, and then its usefulness is over. It will continue to
live in a half-dying way until fall, but it is a useless and unsightly
life. I know that it is contended by some that the foliage on the old
canes aids in nourishing the plants; but I think that, under all
ordinary circumstances, the leaves on the young growth are abundantly
sufficient. By removing the old canes after they have borne their
fruit, an aspect of neatness is imparted, which would be conspicuously
absent were they left. Every autumn, before laying the canes down, I
should shorten them in one-third. The remaining two-thirds will give
more fruit by actual measurement, and the berries will be finer and
larger, than if the canes were left intact. From first to last the soil
about the foreign varieties should be maintained in a high degree of
fertility and mellowness. Of manures from the barnyard, that from the
cow-stable is the best; wood-ashes, bone-dust, and decayed leaves also
are excellent fertilizers. During all this period the partial shade of
small trees will be beneficial rather than otherwise, for it should be
remembered that sheltered localities are the natural habitat of the
raspberry.

By a little inquiry the reader can learn whether varieties of the
foreign class are grown successfully in his vicinity. If they are, he
can raise them also by following the directions which have been given.
Brinckle's Orange--a buff-colored berry--is certainly one of the most
beautiful, delicate, and delicious fruits in existence, and is well
worth all the care it requires in the regions where it will grow; while
the Franconia and others should never be permitted to die out by fruit
connoisseurs. If the soil of your garden is light and sandy, or if you
live much south of New York, I should not advise their trial. They may
be grown far to the north, however. I am told that tender varieties of
fruits that can be covered thrive even better in Canada than with us.
There deep snow protects the land, and in spring and autumn they do not
have long periods when the bare earth is alternately freezing and
thawing.

In the second class of raspberries, the crosses between the foreign and
native species, we now have such fine varieties that no one has much
cause for regret if he can raise them; and I scarcely see how he can
help raising them if he has sufficient energy to set out a few plants
and keep them free from weeds and superabundant suckers. Take the
Cuthbert, for instance; you may set it out almost anywhere, and in
almost any latitude except that of the extreme Southern States. But you
must reverse the conditions required for the foreign kinds. If the
ground is very rich, the canes will threaten to grow out of sight. I
advise that this strong-growing sort be planted in rows five feet
apart. Any ordinary soil is good enough for the Cuthbert to start in,
and the plants will need only a moderate degree of fertilizing as they
begin to lose a little of their first vigor. Of course, if the ground
is unusually light and poor, it should be enriched and maintained in a
fair degree of fertility. The point I wish to make is that this variety
will thrive where most others would starve; but there is plenty of land
on which anything will starve. The Cuthbert is a large, late berry,
which continues long in bearing, and is deserving of a place in every
garden. I have grown it for many years, and have never given it any
protection whatever. Occasionally there comes a winter which kills the
canes to the ground. I should perhaps explain to the reader here that
even in the case of the tender foreign kinds it is only the canes that
are killed by the frost; the roots below the surface are uninjured, and
throw up vigorous sprouts the following spring. The Cuthbert is so
nearly hardy that we let it take its chances, and probably in eight
winters out of ten it would stand unharmed. Its hardiness is greatly
enhanced when grown on well-drained soils.

It now has a companion berry in the Marlboro--a variety but recently
introduced, and therefore not thoroughly tested as yet. Its promise,
however, is very fine, and it has secured the strong yet qualified
approval of the best fruit critics. It requires richer soil and better
treatment than the Cuthbert, and it remains to be seen whether it is
equally hardy. It is well worth winter protection if it is not. It is
not a suitable berry for the home garden if no other is grown, for the
reason that it matures its entire crop within a brief time, and thus
would give a family but a short season of raspberries. Cultivated in
connection with the Cuthbert, it would be admirable, for it is very
early, and would produce its fruit before the Cuthberts were ripe.
Unitedly the two varieties would give a family six weeks of
raspberries. There are scores of other kinds in this class, and some
are very good indeed, well worth a place in an amateur's collection;
but the two already named are sufficient to supply a family with
excellent fruit.

Of the third class of red raspberries, representing our pure native
species, I should recommend only one variety--the Turner; and that is
so good that it deserves a place in every collection. It certainly is a
remarkable raspberry, and has an unusual history, which I have given in
my work "Success with Small Fruits." I doubt whether there is a hardier
raspberry in America--one that can be grown so far to the north, and,
what is still more in its favor, so far to the south. In the latter
region it is known as the Southern Thornless. The fact that it is
almost wholly without spines is a good quality; but it is only one
among many others. The Turner requires no winter protection whatever,
will grow on almost any soil in existence, and in almost any climate.
It yields abundantly medium-sized berries of good flavor. The fruit
begins to ripen early, and lasts throughout a somewhat extended season.
It will probably give more berries, with more certainty and less
trouble, than any other variety. Even its fault leans to virtue's side.
Set out a single plant, leave it to Nature, and in time it will cover
the place with Turner raspberries; and yet it will do this in a quiet,
unobtrusive way, for it is not a rampant, ugly grower. While it will
persist in living under almost any circumstances, I have found no
variety that responded more gratefully to good treatment. This consists
simply in three things: (1) rigorous restriction of the suckers to four
or five canes in the hill; (2) keeping the soil clean and mellow about
the bearing plants; (3) making this soil rich. Its dwarf habit of
growth, unlike that of the Cuthbert, enables one to stimulate it with
any kind of manure. By this course the size of the bushes is greatly
increased, and enormous crops can be obtained.

I prefer to set out all raspberries in the fall, although as a matter
of convenience I often perform the task in the early spring. I do not
believe in late spring planting, except as one takes up a young sprout,
two or three inches high, and sets it out as one would a tomato-plant.
By this course time is often saved. When it is our wish to increase the
quality and quantity of the fruit, I should advise that the canes of
all varieties be cut back one-third of their length. A little
observation will teach us the reason for this. Permit a long cane to
bear throughout its natural length, and you will note that many buds
near the ground remain dormant or make a feeble growth. The sap,
following a general law of nature, pushes to the extremities, and is,
moreover, too much diffused. Cut away one-third, and all the buds start
with redoubled vigor, while more and larger fruit is the result. If,
however, earliness in ripening is the chief consideration, as it often
is, especially with the market-gardener, leave the canes unpruned, and
the fruit ripens a few days sooner.

In purveying for the home table, white raspberries offer the
attractions of variety and beauty. In the case of Brinckle's Orange,
its exquisite flavor is the chief consideration; but this fastidious
foreign berry is practically beyond the reach, of the majority. There
is, however, an excellent variety, the Caroline, which is almost as
hardy as the Turner, and more easily grown. It would seem that Nature
designed every one to have it (if we may say IT of Caroline), for not
only does it sucker freely like the red raspberries, but the tips of
the canes also bend over, take root, and form new plants. The one thing
that Caroline needs is repression, the curb; she is too intense.

I am inclined to think, however, that she has had her day, even as an
attendant on royalty, for a new variety, claiming the high-sounding
title of Golden Queen, has mysteriously appeared. I say mysteriously,
for it is difficult to account for her origin. Mr. Ezra Stokes, a
fruit-grower of New Jersey, had a field of twelve acres planted with
Cuthbert raspberries. In this field he found a bush producing white
berries. In brief, he found an Albino of the Cuthbert. Of the causes of
her existence he knows nothing. All we can say, I suppose, is that the
variation was produced by some unknown impulse of Nature. Deriving her
claims from such a source, she certainly has a better title to royalty
than most of her sister queens, who, according to history, have been
commonplace women, suggesting anything but nature. With the exception
of the Philadelphians, perhaps, we as a people will not stand on the
question of ancestry, and shall be more inclined to see how she "queens
it."

Of course the enthusiastic discoverer and disseminators of this variety
claim that it is not only like the Cuthbert, but far better. Let us try
it and see; if it is as good, we may well be content, and can grace our
tables with beautiful fruit.

There is another American species of raspberry (Rubus occidentalis)
that is almost as dear to memory as the wild strawberry--the
thimble-berry, or black-cap. I confess that the wild flavor of this
fruit is more to my taste than that of any other raspberry. Apparently
its seeds have been sown broadcast over the continent, for it is found
almost everywhere, and there have been few children in America whose
lips have not been stained by the dark purple juice of its fruit. Seeds
dropped in neglected pastures, by fence and roadsides, and along the
edges of the forest, produce new varieties which do not propagate
themselves by suckers like red raspberries, but in a manner quite
distinct. The young purple canes bend over and take root in the soil
during August, September, and October. At the extreme end of the tip
from which the roots descend a bud is formed, which remains dormant
until the following spring. Therefore the young plant we set out is a
more or less thick mass of roots, a green bud, and usually a bit of the
old parent cane, which is of no further service except as a handle and
a mark indicating the location of the plant. After the ground has been
prepared as one would for corn or potatoes, it should be levelled, a
line stretched for the row, and the plants set four feet apart in the
row. Sink the roots as straight down as possible, and let the bud point
upward, covering it lightly with merely one or two inches of soil.
Press the ground firmly against the roots, but not on the bud. The soil
just over this should be fine and mellow, so that the young shoot can
push through easily, which it will soon do if the plants are in good
condition. Except in the extreme South, spring is by far the best time
for planting, and it should be done early, while the buds are dormant.
After these begin to grow, keep the ground mellow and free from weeds.
The first effort of the young plant will be to propagate itself. It
will sprawl over the ground if left to its wild impulses, and will not
make an upright bearing bush. On this account put a stake down by the
young sprout, and as it grows keep it tied up and away from the ground.
When the side-branches are eight or ten inches long, pinch them back,
thus throwing the chief strength into the central cane. By keeping all
the branches pinched back you form the plant into an erect, sturdy bush
that will load itself with berries the following year. No fruit will be
borne the first season. The young canes of the second year will incline
to be more sturdy and erect in their growth; but this tendency can be
greatly enhanced by clipping the long slender branches which are thrown
out on every side. As soon as the old canes are through bearing, they
should be cut out and burned or composted with other refuse from the
garden. Black-caps may be planted on any soil that is not too dry. When
the plant suffers from drought, the fruit consists of little else than
seeds. To escape this defect I prefer to put the black-caps in a moist
location; and it is one of the few fruits that will thrive in a cold,
wet soil. One can set out plants here and there in out-of-the-way
corners, and they often do better than those in the garden. Indeed,
unless a place is kept up very neatly, many such bushes will be found
growing wild, and producing excellent fruit.

The question may arise in some minds, Why buy plants? Why not get them
from the woods and fields, or let Nature provide bushes for us where
she will? When Nature produces a bush on my place where it is not in
the way, I let it grow, and pick the fruit in my rambles; but the
supply would be precarious indeed for a family. By all means get plants
from the woods if you have marked a bush that produces unusually fine
fruit. It is by just this course that the finest varieties have been
obtained. If you go a-berrying, you may light on something finer than
has yet been discovered; but it is not very probable. Meanwhile, for a
dollar you can get all the plants you want of the two or three best
varieties that have yet been discovered, from Maine to California.
After testing a great many kinds, I should recommend the Souhegan for
early, and the Mammoth Cluster and Gregg for late. A clean, mellow soil
in good condition, frequent pinchings back of the canes in summer, or a
rigorous use of the pruning-shears in spring, are all that is required
to secure an abundant crop from year to year. This species may also be
grown among trees. I advise that every kind and description of
raspberries be kept tied to stakes or a wire trellis. The wood ripens
better, the fruit is cleaner and richer from exposure to air and
sunshine, and the garden is far neater than if the canes are sprawling
at will. I know that all horticulturists advise that the plants be
pinched back so thoroughly as to form self-supporting bushes; but I
have yet to see the careful fruit-grower who did this, or the bushes
that some thunder-gusts would not prostrate into the mud with all their
precious burden, were they not well supported. Why take the risk to
save a two-penny stake?

If, just before the fruit begins to ripen, a mulch of leaves, cut
grass, or any litter that will cover the ground slightly, is placed
under and around the bushes, it may save a great deal of fruit from
being spoiled. The raspberry season is also the hour and opportunity
for thunder-showers, whose great slanting drops often splash the soil
to surprising distances. Sugar-and-cream-coated, not mud-coated,
berries, if you please.

In my remarks on raspberries I have not named many varieties, and have
rather laid stress on the principles which may guide the reader in his
present and future selections of kinds. Sufficient in number and
variety to meet the NEEDS of every family have been mentioned. The
amateur may gratify his taste by testing other sorts described in
nurserymen's catalogues. Moreover, every year or two some new variety
will be heralded throughout the land. The reader has merely to keep in
mind the three classes of raspberries described and their
characteristics, in order to make an intelligent choice from old and
new candidates for favor.

It should also be remembered that the raspberry is a Northern fruit. I
am often asked in effect, What raspberries do you recommend for the
Gulf States? I suppose my best reply would be, What oranges do you
think best adapted to New York? Most of the foreign kinds falter and
fail in New Jersey and Southern Pennsylvania; the Cuthbert and its
class can be grown much further south, while the Turner and the
black-caps thrive almost to Florida.

Raspberries, especially those of our native species, are comparatively
free from disease. Foreign varieties and their hybrids are sometimes
afflicted with the curl-leaf. The foliage crimps up, the canes are
dwarfed, and the whole plant has a sickly and often yellow appearance.
The only remedy is to dig up the plant, root and branch, and burn it.

A disease termed the "rust" not infrequently attacks old and poorly
nourished black-cap bushes. The leaves take on an ochreous color, and
the plant is seen to be failing. Extirpate it as directed above. If
many bushes are affected, I advise that the whole patch be rooted up,
and healthy plants set out elsewhere.

It is a well-known law of Nature that plants of nearly all kinds appear
to exhaust from the soil in time the ingredients peculiarly acceptable
to them. Skill can do much toward maintaining the needful supply; but
the best and easiest plan is not to grow any of the small fruits too
long in any one locality. By setting out new plants on different
ground, far better results are attained with much less trouble.

CHAPTER VI

THE CURRANT

Who that has ever lived in the country does not remember the old
straggling currant-bushes that disputed their existence with grass,
docks, and other coarse-growing weeds along some ancient fence? Many
also can recall the weary task of gathering a quart or two of the
diminutive fruit for pies, and the endless picking required to obtain
enough for the annual jelly-making. Nor is this condition of affairs a
thing of the past. Drive through the land where you will in early July,
and you will see farmers mowing round the venerable Red Dutch currants
"to give the women-folks a chance at 'em." The average farmer still
bestows upon this fruit about as much attention as the aborigines gave
to their patches of maize. This seems very absurd when we remember the
important place held in the domestic economy by the currant, and how
greatly it improves under decent treatment. If it demanded the
attention which a cabbage-plant requires, it would be given; but the
currant belongs to that small class of creatures which permit
themselves to be used when wanted, and snubbed, neglected, and imposed
upon at other times. It is known that the bushes will manage to exist,
and do the Very best they can, no matter how badly treated; and average
human nature has ever taken advantage of such traits, to its continuous
loss.

The patience of the currant is due perhaps to its origin, for it grows
wild round the northern hemisphere, its chief haunts being the dim,
cold, damp woods of the high latitudes. You may tame, modify, and
vastly change anything possessing life; but original traits are
scarcely ever wholly eradicated. Therefore the natural habitat and
primal qualities of the currant indicate the true lines of development,
its capabilities and limitations. It is essentially a northern fruit,
requiring coolness, moisture, and alluvial soils. It begins to falter
and look homesick even in New Jersey; and one has not to go far down
the Atlantic coast to pass beyond the range of its successful culture.
I do not see why it should not thrive much further south on the
northern slopes of the mountains. From Philadelphia northward, however,
except on light dry soils and in sunny exposures, there is no reason
why it should not give ample returns for the attention it requires.

I shall not lay stress on the old, well-known uses to which this fruit
is put, but I do think its value is but half appreciated. People rush
round in July in search of health: let me recommend the currant cure.
If any one is languid, depressed in spirits, inclined to headaches, and
generally "out of sorts," let him finish his breakfast daily for a
month with a dish of freshly picked currants. He will soon, almost
doubt his own identity, and may even begin to think that he is becoming
a good man. He will be more gallant to his wife, kinder to his
children, friendlier to his neighbors, and more open-handed to every
good cause. Work will soon seem play, and play fun. In brief, the truth
of the ancient pun will be verified, that "the power to live a good
life depends largely upon the LIVER." Out upon the nonsense of taking
medicine and nostrums during the currant-season! Let it be taught at
theological seminaries that the currant is a "means of grace." It is a
corrective; and that is what average humanity most needs.

The currant, like the raspberry, is willing to keep shady; but only
because it is modest. It is one of the fruits that thrive better among
trees than in too dry and sunny exposures. Therefore, in economizing
space on the Home Acre it may be grown among smaller trees, or, better
still, on the northern or eastern side of a wall or hedge. But shade is
not essential, except as we go south; then the requisites of moisture
and shelter from the burning rays of the sun should be complied with as
far as possible. In giving this and kindred fruits partial shade, they
should not be compelled to contend to any extent with the roots of
trees. This will ever prove an unequal contest. No fruit can thrive in
dense shade, or find sustenance among the voracious roots of a tree.

Select, therefore, if possible, heavy, deep, moist, yet well-drained
soil, and do not fear to make and keep it very rich. If you are
restricted to sandy or gravelly soils, correct their defects with
compost, decayed leaves and sods, muck, manure from the cow-stable, and
other fertilizers with staying rather than stimulating qualities.
Either by plowing or forking, deepen as well as enrich the soil. It is
then ready for the plants, which may be set out either in the fall or
in early spring. I prefer the autumn--any time after the leaves have
fallen; but spring answers almost as well, while buds are dormant, or
partially so. It should be remembered that the currant starts very
early, and is in full foliage before some persons are fairly wakened to
garden interests. It would, in this case, be better to wait until
October, unless the plants can be obtained from a neighbor on a cloudy
day; then they should be cut back two-thirds of their length before
being removed, and the transfer made as quickly as possible. Under any
circumstances, take off half of the wood from the plants bought. This
need not be thrown away. Every cutting of young wood six inches long
will make a new plant in a single season. All that is needful is to
keep the wood moist until ready to put it in the ground, or, better
still, a cool, damp place in the garden can be selected at once, and
the cuttings sunk two-thirds of their length into the ground, and the
soil pressed firm around them. By fall they will have a good supply of
roots, and by the following autumn be ready to be set out wherever you
wish them to fruit.

Currant-bushes may be planted five feet apart each way, and at the same
distance, if they are to line a fence. They should be sunk a few inches
deeper in the soil than they stood before, and the locality be such as
to admit of good culture. The soil should never be permitted to become
hard, weedy, or grass-grown. As a rule, I prefer two-year-old plants,
while those of one year's growth answer nearly as well, if vigorous. If
in haste for fruit, it may be well to get three-year-old plants, unless
they have been dwarfed and enfeebled by neglect. Subsequent culture
consists chiefly in keeping the soil clean, mellow, rich, and therefore
moist. I have named the best fertilizers for the currant; but if the
product of the horse-stable is employed, use it first as a mulch. It
will thus gradually reach the roots. Otherwise it is too stimulating,
and produces a rampant growth of wood rather than fruit.

Under any circumstances this tendency to produce an undue amount of
wood must be repressed almost as rigorously as in the grape-vine. The
secret of successful currant-culture is richness beneath, and
restriction above. English gardeners are said to have as complete and
minute systems of pruning and training currants as the grape; but we do
not seem to have patience for such detail. Nor do I regard it as
necessary. Our object is an abundant supply of excellent fruit; and
this result can be obtained at a surprisingly small outlay of time and
money, if they are expended judiciously.

The art of trimming a currant-bush, like that of pruning a grape-vine,
is best learned by observation and experience. One can give principles
rather than lay down rules. Like the vine, the currant tends to choke
itself with a superabundance of wood, which soon becomes more or less
barren. This is truer of some varieties than of others; but in all
instances the judicious use of the pruning-knife doubles the yield. In
view of the supposition that the leading shoot and all the branches
were shortened in one-half when the plant was set out, I will suggest
that early in June it will be observed that much more wood is forming
than can be permitted to remain. There are weak, crowding shoots which
never can be of any use. If these are cut out at this time, the sap
which would go to mature them will be directed into the valuable parts
of the forming bush. Summer pruning prevents misspent force, and it may
be kept up with great advantage from year to year. This is rarely done,
however; therefore early in spring the bushes must receive a good
annual pruning, and the long shoots and branches be cut well back, so
as to prevent naked reaches of wood. Observe a very productive bush,
and you will see that there are many points abounding in little
side-branches. It is upon these that the fruit is chiefly borne. A bush
left to itself is soon a mass of long, slender, almost naked stalks,
with a little fruit at the ends. The ideal bush is stocky, open, well
branched, admitting light, air, and sun in every part. There is no
crowding and smothering of the fruit by the foliage. But few clusters
are borne on very young wood, and when this grows old and black, the
clusters are small. Therefore new wood should always be coming on and
kept well cut back, so as to form joints and side-branches; and as
other parts grow old and feeble they should be cut out. Observation and
experience will teach the gardener more than all the rules that could
be written, for he will perceive that he must prune each bush according
to its own individuality.

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