In the garden, light soils can be given a much more stable and productive character by covering them with clay to the depth of one or two inches every fall, and then plowing it in. The winter's frost and rains mix the two diverse soils, to their mutual benefit. Carting sand on clay is rarely remunerative; the reverse is decidedly so, and top-dressings of clay on light land are often more beneficial than equal amounts of manure.
As practically employed, I regard quick, stimulating manures, like aguno, very injurious to light soils. I believe them to be the curse of the South. They are used "to make a crop," as it is termed; and they do make it for a few years, but to the utter impoverishment of the land. The soil becomes as exhausted as a man would be should he seek to labor under the support of stimulants only. In both instances, an abundance of food is needed. A quinine pill is not a dinner, and a dusting of guano or phosphate cannot enrich the land.
And yet, by the aid of these stimulating commercial fertilizers, the poorest and thinnest soil can be made to produce fine strawberries, if sufficient moisture can be maintained. Just as a physician can rally an exhausted man to a condition in which he can take and be strengthened by food, so land, too poor and light to sprout a pea, can be stimulated into producing a meagre green crop of some kind, which, plowed under, will enable the land to produce a second and heavier burden. This, in turn, placed in the soil, will begin to give a suggestion of fertility. Thus, poor or exhausted soils can be made, by several years of skilful management, to convalesce slowly into strength.
Whether such patient outlay of time and labor will pay on a continent abounding in land naturally productive is a very dubious question.
Coarse, gravelly soils are usually even worse. If we must grow our strawberries on them, give the same general treatment that I have just suggested.
On some peat soils the strawberry thrives abundantly; on others it burns and dwindles. Under such conditions I should experiment with bone-dust, ashes, etc., until I found just what was lacking.
No written directions can take the place of common-sense, judgment, and, above all, experience. Soils vary like individual character. I have yet to learn of a system of rules that will teach us how to deal with every man we meet. It is ever wise, however, to deal justly and liberally. He that expects much from his land must give it much.
I have dwelt at length on the preparation and enrichment of the land, since it is the cornerstone of all subsequent success. Let me close by emphasizing again the principle which was made prominent at first. Though we give our strawberry plants everything else they need, our crop of fruit will yet be good or bad in the proportion that we are able to maintain abundant moisture during the blossoming and fruiting season. If provision can be made for irrigation, it may increase the yield tenfold.
In preparing and enriching the soil, and especially in subsequent cultivation, concentrated fertilizers are very useful and often essential. In dealing with this subject, however, I think we tread upon uncertain ground. There is a great deal of apparent accuracy of figures and analyses, carried carefully into decimals, but a wonderful deal of vagueness, uncertainty, and contradiction in the experiences and minds of cultivators.
It is well known that many commercial fertilizers are scandalously adulterated, and those who have suffered from frauds are hostile to the entire class. In their strong prejudice, they will neither discriminate nor investigate. There are others who associate everything having a chemical sound with "book farming," and therefore dismiss the whole subject with a sniff of contempt. This clique of horticulturists is rapidly diminishing, however, for the fruit grower who does not read is like the lawyer who tries to practice with barely a knowledge of the few laws revealed by a limited experience. In contrast, there are others who read and theorize too exclusively, and are inclined to assert that concentrated fertilizers supersede all others. They scout the muck swamp, the compost heap, and even the barnyard, as old-fashioned, cumbrous methods of bringing to the soil, in tons of useless matter, the essentials which they can deliver in a few sacks or barrels. On paper, they are scientific and accurate. The crop you wish to raise has constituents in certain proportions. Supply these, they say, and you have the chemical compound, or crop. A field or garden, however, is not a sheet of blank paper, but a combination at which nature has been at work, and left full of obscurities. The results which the agricultural chemist predicted so confidently do not always follow, as they ought. Nature is often very indifferent to learned authorities.
There is yet another class—a large one, too—who regard these fertilizers as they do the drugs of an apothecary. They occasionally give their land a dose of them as they take medicine themselves, when indisposed or imagining themselves so. In either case there is almost entire ignorance of the nature of the compound or of definite reasons for its usefulness. Both the man and the field were "run down," and some one said that this, that, or the other thing was good. Therefore it was tried. Such haphazard action is certainly not the surest method of securing health or fertility.
In no other department of horticulture is there more room for common-sense, accurate knowledge, skill, and good management, than in the use of all kinds of fertilizers, and, in my judgment, close and continued observation is worth volumes of theory. The proper enrichment of the soil is the very cornerstone of success, and more fail at this point than at any other. While I do not believe that accurate and complete directions for the treatment of every soil can be written, it is undoubtedly true that certain correct principles can be laid down, and information, suggestion, and records of experience given which will be very useful. With such data to start with, the intelligent cultivator can work out the problem of success in the peculiar conditions of his own farm or garden.
It must be true that land designed for strawberries requires those constituents which are shown to compose the plant and fruit, and that the presence of each one in the soil should be in proportion to the demand for it. It is also equally plain that the supply of these essential elements should be kept up in continued cultivation. Therefore, the question naturally arises, what are strawberry plants and fruit made of? Modern wine, we know, can be made without any grape juice whatever, but as Nature compounds strawberries in the open sunlight, instead of in back rooms and cellars, she insists on all the proper ingredients before she will form the required combination.
"The Country Gentleman" gives a very interesting letter from Prof. S. W. Johnson, of the Connecticut Experiment Station, containing the following careful analysis made by J. Isidore Pierre, a French writer. "Pierre," says the professor, "gives a statement of the composition, exclusive of water, of the total yield per hectare of fruit, taken up to June 30, and of leaves, stems and runners, taken up to the middle of August. These results, calculated in pounds per acre, are the following (the plants contained 62.3 per cent of water and fruit 90 per cent):
Composition of the water-free strawberry crop (except roots), at the middle of August, in pounds per acre, according to Pierre:
Plants Fruits TotalsOrganic matter, exclusive of nitrogen 4268.4 1053.5 5321.9Nitrogen 88.5 16.0 104.5Silica, iron and manganese oxides 43.3 1.5/3.8 48.6Phosphoric acid 35.3 5.4 40.7Lime 102.7 7.9 110.6Magnesia 16.1 .7 16.8Potash 89.1 19.7 108.8Soda 6.4 .9 7.3Other matters 120.9 8.8 129.7
Dry substance 4770.7 1118.2 5888.9"
These are the constituents that, to start with, must be in the soil, and which must be kept there. This array of what to many are but obscure chemicals need not cause misgivings, since in most instances nature has stored them in the virgin soil in abundant proportions. Even in well-worn, long cultivated fields, some of them may exist in sufficient quantity. Therefore, buying a special fertilizer is often like carrying coals to Newcastle. Useless expenditure may be incurred, also, by supplying some, but not all, of the essential ingredients. A farmer applied six hundred pounds of superphosphate to a plat of corn-land, and three hundred pounds to an adjacent plat wherein the conditions were the same. The yield of the first plat was scarcely in excess of that of the second, and in neither case was there a sufficient increase to repay for the fertilizer. It does not follow that the man used an adulterated and worthless article. Analysis shows that corn needs nitrogen and potash in large proportions; and if these had been employed with the superphosphate, the result probably would have been very different. Superphosphate contains nitrogen, but not in sufficient degree. These considerations bring us to the sound conclusion that in enriching our land it would be wise to use complete fertilizers as far as possible; that is, manures containing all, or nearly all, the essential ingredients of the strawberry plant and fruit. If we could always know just what elements are lacking in our soils, we could merely supply these; but frequent analyses are expensive, and often misleading, at best. The safest plan is always to keep within reach of the plants the food we know they require, and the roots, with unerring instinct, will attend to the proportions. Hence the value of barnyard manure in the estimation of plain common-sense. A sensible writer has clearly shown that from twenty-three cows and five horses, if proper absorbents are used, $5.87 worth of nitrogen, potash, and phosphoric acid can be obtained every twenty-four hours, estimating these vitally important elements of plant-food at their wholesale valuation. In addition, there are the other constituents of the yard manure which, if not so valuable, are still very useful. To permit the waste of any fertilizer that can be saved or made upon our places, and then buy the same thing with the chance of being cheated, is thus shown to be wretched economy. Commercial fertilizers can never supersede the compost heap, into which should go everything which will enable us to place in the soil organic matter and the other elements that were given in the analysis; and if all the sewage and waste of the dwelling and the products of the stable, stys and poultry-house were well composted with muck, sod, leaves, or even common earth, and used liberally, magnificent and continued crops of strawberries could be raised from nearly all soils.
In many instances, however, home-made composts are wholly inadequate to supply the need, and stable manures are too costly or not to be obtained. The fruit grower should then go to those manufacturers of fertilizers who have the best reputation, and who give the best guarantees against deception. There are perfectly honest dealers, and it is by far the cheapest in the end to pay them their price for a genuine article. If such concentrated agents are used in connection with a green crop like clover, land can be made, and kept productive continuously. In the use of commercial fertilizers, there should be a constant and intelligent effort to keep up a supply ofallthe essential ingredients. Wood-ashes is a specific for strawberries. I have never found any one thing so good, and yet it is substantially but one thing, potash, and I should remember that the plant also requires nitrogen, which guano, or some form of animal manure, would furnish; lime, which is best applied to the strawberry in the form of bone meal, etc. The essential phosphoric acid is furnished in bone meal, the superphosphates, and also in wood-ashes. By referring to an analysis of the ash of red clover, it will be found to contain nearly everything that the strawberry requires.
The man who reads, observes, and experiments carefully, will find that he can accomplish much with lime and salt. If one has land full of vegetable or organic matter, an application of lime will render this matter fit for plant food, and the lime itself, in the course of a year or less, will be rendered harmless in the process. It also sweetens and lightens heavy, sour land, and thus,in timerenders it better adapted to the strawberry; but lime should not be applied directly, in any considerable quantity, to strawberry plants, nor should it be used on very light soils deficient in vegetable matter. The judicious use of salt insmallquantities will, I think, prove very beneficial, especially on light upland. It tends to prevent injury from drought, and to clear the land of the larvae of insects. I am inclined to think that much can be accomplished with this agent, and hope to make some careful experiments with it. But it should be used very cautiously, or it will check or destroy growth.
I have received a letter from Mr. J. H. Hale, of South Glastonbury, Conn., that is such a clear and interesting record of experience on this subject that I am led to give it almost entire:
"We have always used Peruvian guano, fish scrap, and ground bone to some extent, but until the past five years have depended mainly upon stable manure brought from New York city on boats, using about fifteen cords per acre yearly, and always with satisfactory results, the only objection being the expense. The price ranged from $8 to $12 per cord, or on an average of $150 per acre; and in trying to reduce this expense we commenced testing different fertilizers, planting, in 1874, one acre of strawberries manured with two tons of fish scrap, at $20 per ton, and one hundred bushels of unleached wood-ashes, at 30 cents per bushel; making a total cost of $70. The result was a strong, rapid growth of plants early in the summer, but in September and October they began to show signs of not having plant food enough, and then we saw our mistake in using fish in place of bone, or some other slow-acting fertilizer that the plants could not have taken up so greedily early in the summer, but would have had to feed on slowly all through the season. The fruit crop the following year, as might have been expected, was not a success, being only about half a crop. In 1875, we planted another acre, using one ton of ground bone and one hundred bushels of wood-ashes, at a total cost of $73; the result was a fine, even growth of plants all through the season, and a perfect crop of fruit the following year, fully equal to that on adjoining acres that had been manured with stable manure at a cost of $150 per acre, to say nothing of the carting of such a great bulk of manure. In the spring of 1876, being so well pleased with the appearance of our one acre manured with bone and ashes, we planned to fertilize all of our fruits in the same way. Then the question arose, where were we to get the ashes? We could buy enough for an acre or two, but not enough for our whole farm. What were we to do? Potash we must have, as that is the leading element of plant food required by small fruits of all kinds. We found we must look to the German potash salts for what we wanted, and we therefore bought several tons of High Grade (80 per cent) muriate of potash at $40 per ton, using 1,000 pounds per acre, and one ton of bone at $35, making a total cost of only $55 per acre. The plants did not grow quite as well early in the season as those on the fields where ashes were used, but later in the season they made a very fine growth, and at fruiting time, in 1877, we harvested a full and abundant crop of strawberries and raspberries. Since that time we have used nothing but ground bone and muriate of potash to manure all of our berry fields with, and continue to get fully as satisfactory results as in former years, when we depended upon stable manure at more than double the cost per acre. Some parties who have been looking into the matter suggest that possibly our satisfactory results are owing not so much to the fertilizers as to the liberal supply of stable manure used in former years. Yet the past season we picked 143 bushels of Charles Downings per acre, from a field manured with bone and potash, so poor and worn-out that two years before it would only produce six bushels of rye per acre. That land had no stable manure on it, and if it was not the bone and potash that furnished food for the berries, we would like to know what it was. The one mistake we have made is, I think, in not using six or eight hundred pounds of fish scrap or guano, and only 1,500 pounds of bone. The fish or guano, being such quick-acting fertilizers, would give the plants a much better start early in the season than would be the case if only the bone and potash were used. We shall try it the coming spring. In applying the potash great care should be taken to have it thoroughly incorporated with the soil, it being only about 55 per cent actual potash; the balance, being largely composed of salt, would, of course, kill the roots of young plants if brought directly in contact with them. In fields where we have used the potash, we have been troubled with white grubs only to a very limited extent, while portions of the same field where stable manure had been used were badly infested with them, and while I do not think salt will drive them ail out of the soil, I do believe it will do so to some extent. Besides the fertilizers I have named, we have in the past six years experimented in a small way with many others. Among them Stockbridge's strawberry manure and Mapes' fruit and vine manures, but have never had as good returns for the money invested as from the bone and potash; and yet, while they have proved of such great value to us, I would not advise you or any one to give up stable manure for them if you can get it at the same cost per acre, but if you cannot, then I say try bone dust and potash in a small way, until you learn just whatyour soilwants, and then supply it, whether it be 500, 1,000, or 2,000 pounds per acre."
Mr. Hale adds:
"The most of our soil is a sandy loam. We have some heavy loam and a few acres of clay gravel, and we have always had good results from the use of bone and potash on all of these soils.
"We have never used lime on our berry fields at the time of planting, and yet, as you know, all of our New England soils are deficient in lime. We use some indirectly, as we grow clover to plow under, and usually give at that time a good dressing of lime. As we try to have a new clover field every year, we get all around the farm in six or eight years, and we therefore get a dressing of lime all around once in that time, and have never been able to see any ill effects from it. In fact, we believe it a positive benefit in helping to keep down sorrel, if nothing more."
There would be very few worn-out farms, or poverty-stricken farmers, if all followed the example of the Hale brothers.
The value of potash and bone meal is thus clearly shown, but the latter does not contain nitrogen in sufficient quantity. I think Mr. Hale is correct in the opinion that he can secure better results by using at the same time some nitrogenous manure, like fish scrap, guano, etc. If he had heavy, cold, clay land to deal with, it is possible that he might find the stable manure the cheapest and best in the long run, even at its increased cost.
Mr. W. L. Ferris, of Poughkeepsie, writes to me that he has found great advantage in the use of the Mapes & Stockbridge special fertilizers. "My experience," he says, "is only as to strawberries, and on them I would say that the result of applying equal values of manure—stable and commercial—as to cost, would be from ten to twenty-five per cent in favor of the commercial, as a stimulant to apply in the spring, or, in small quantities, to plants first starting. This does not apply to the first preparation of the ground. In this direction I propose to experiment. I have heretofore applied fertilizers early in spring by hand, distributing it along the rows."
Records of varying experiences, and the discussion of commercial fertilizers, might be continued indefinitely, but enough has been said, I think, to suggest to each cultivator unacquainted with the subject in what directions he should seek success. If I were asked what is the one special manure in which the strawberry especially delights, I should answer unhesitatingly, the well decayed and composted production of the cow-stable, and if the reader had seen Mr. Durand's beds of the Great American variety in bearing, after being enriched with this material, he would be well satisfied to use it when it could be obtained. The vines of even this fastidious berry, that falters and fails in most soils, averaged one foot in height, and were loaded with enormous fruit. The subject may be summed up by an extract from a letter of Mr. Alexander Hyde to the "New York Times":
"Nitrates, phosphates, and ammonia are good fertilizers, and just the chemicals which most lands need, but plants require a good bed as well as good food. The physical condition of the soil, as well as the chemical, must receive attention; and we know of nothing superior to a well-made compost for furnishing both the chemical and physical conditions necessary for the development of our crops."
Having prepared and enriched our ground, we are ready for the plants. They can often be obtained from a good neighbor whose beds we have watched across the fence, and whose varieties we have sampled to our satisfaction. But the most liberal neighbors may not be able to furnish all we need, or the kinds we wish. Moreover, in private gardens, names and varieties are usually in a sad tangle. We must go to the nurseryman. At this point, perhaps, a brief appeal to the reader's common-sense may save much subsequent loss and disappointment.
In most of our purchases, we see the article before we take it, and can estimate its value. Just the reverse is usually true of plants. We know—or believe—that certain varieties are valuable, and we order them from a distance, paying in advance. When received, the most experienced cannot be sure that the plants are true to the names they bear. We must plant them in our carefully prepared land, expend upon them money, labor, and, above all, months and years of our brief lives, only to learn, perhaps, that the varieties are not what we ordered, and that we have wasted everything on a worthless kind. The importance of starting right, therefore, can scarcely be overestimated. It is always best to buy of men who, in the main, grow their own stock, and therefore know about it, and who have established a reputation for integrity and accuracy. The itinerant agent flits from Maine to California, and too often the marvellous portraits of fruits that he exhibits do not even resemble the varieties whose names they bear. It is best to buy of those who have a "local habitation and a name," and then, if anything is wrong, one knows where to look for redress.
Even if one wishes to be accurate, it is difficult to know that one's stock is absolutely pure and true to name. The evil of mixed plants is more often perpetuated in the following innocent manner than by any intentional deception: For instance, one buys from a trustworthy source, as he supposes, a thousand "Monarch" strawberry plants, and sets them out in the spring. All blossoms should be picked off the first year, and, therefore, there can be no fruit as a test of purity that season. But by fall there are many thousands of young plants. The grower naturally says: "I bought these for the Monarch, therefore they are Monarchs," and he sells many plants as such. When coming into fruit the second summer, he finds, however, that not one in twenty is a Monarch plant. As an honest man, he now digs them under in disgust; but the mischief has already been done, and scattered throughout the country are thousands of mixed plants which multiply with the vigor of evil. Nurserymen should never take varieties for granted, no matter where obtained. I endeavor so to train my eye that I can detect the distinguishing marks even in the foliage and blossoms, and if anything looks suspicious I root it out. The foliage of the Monarch of the West is so distinct that if one learns to know it he can tell whether his plants are mixed at a glance.
If possible, the nurseryman should start with plants that he knows to be genuine, and propagate from them. Then, by constant and personal vigilance, he can maintain a stock that will not be productive chiefly of profanity when coming into fruit. This scrutiny of propagating beds is a department that I shall never delegate to any one else.
It is not thrift to save in the first cost of plants, if thereby the risk of obtaining poor, mixed varieties is increased. I do not care to save five dollars to-day and lose fifty by the operation within a year. A gentleman wrote to me, "I have been outrageously cheated in buying plants." On the same page he asked me to furnish stock at rates as absurdly low as those of the man who cheated him. If one insists on having an article at far less than the cost of production, it is not strange that he finds some who will "cheat him outrageously." I find it by far the cheapest in the long run to go to the most trustworthy sources, and pay the grower a price which enables him to give me just what I want.
When plants are both fine and genuine they can still be spoiled, or, at least, injured in transit from the ground where they grew. Dig so as to save all the roots, shake these clean of earth, straighten them out, and tie the plants into bundles of fifty. Pack in boxes, with the roots down in moss and the tops exposed to the air. Do not press them in too tightly or make them too wet, or else the plants become heated —a process which speedily robs them of all vitality. In cool seasons, and when the distance is not too great, plants can be shipped in barrels thickly perforated with holes. The tops should be toward the sides and the roots in the centre, down through which there should be a circulation of air. In every case, envelop the roots in damp moss or leaves—damp, but not wet. Plants can be sent by mail at the rate of one cent per ounce, and those obtained in this way rarely fail in doing well.
This fact should be carefully kept in mind by those residing long distances from express offices, or the points from which they wish to order their plants. Packages weighing four pounds and less can be sent by mail and received with our letters, and by a little inquiry and calculation it may be found the cheapest and most convenient way of obtaining them. I find no difficulty in mailing all the small fruit plants to every part of the continent.
The greater part of the counting and packing of plants should be done in a cellar, or some place of low, even temperature, in order to prevent the little fibrous roots, on which the future growth so greatly depends, from becoming shrivelled. The best part of the roots are extremely sensitive to sunlight or frost, and, worse than all, to a cold, dry wind. Therefore, have the plants gathered up as fast as they are dug and carried to a damp, cool room, where the temperature varies but little. From such a place they can be packed and shipped with the leisure that insures careful work.
After having obtained good, genuine plants to start with, we can greatly improve our stock by a system of careful selection. This is a truth of great importance, but so obvious that we need not dwell long upon it. Let me illustrate what I mean by the course I propose to enter upon during the coming season. In our beds of each variety there will be a few plants that, for some reason, will surpass all the others in vigor, productiveness, and especially in the manifestation of the peculiar and distinguishing traits of the variety. I shall carefully mark such plants, remove all others from their vicinity, and propagate from them. Thus, in the course of two or three years, I shall renew my entire stock of standard varieties from the very best and most characteristic specimens of each kind. From this improved stock the best types should be chosen again and again; and by this course I am satisfied that a surprising degree of excellence can be attained. It is on the same principle of careful breeding from blooded and perfect animals. From very many localities come the complaint that Wilsons and other fine old varieties are "running out." How can it be otherwise, in view of the treatment they receive and the careless way in which they are propagated? Even when unmixed, they are usually the enfeebled children of degenerate parents. There is no variety in the country more badly mixed than the Wilson; and the trouble often arises from wild strawberries creeping in among them from the edges of the field. The spurious plants are taken up with the others, and the mixture is scattered up and down the land. The same is true with other varieties that have long been in cultivation. Indeed, I have found mixtures in new varieties obtained directly from the originators. Therefore the need that the plant grower should give personal and unceasing vigilance to the stock from which he propagates, and that those who take a pride in improving their stock should often scan their beds narrowly. Moreover, if a bed stands several years in the same place, new seedlings may spring up, and thus create a mixture.
Nature has endowed the strawberry-plant with the power of taking root and growing readily at almost any season when young plants can be obtained. My best success, however, has been in November and early spring. The latter part of May and the month of June is the only time at which I have not planted with satisfactory results. In Northern latitudes, early spring is preferable, for at this season the ground is moist, showers are abundant, and the impulse of growth is strong. The weather is cool, also, and therefore the plants rarely heat or dry out during transportation.
In the South, autumn is by far the best time to plant. When the young plants are grown on the same place, they may be transferred to the fruiting beds and fields any time between July and the middle of November. The earlier they are set out, if they can be kept growing during the remainder of the hot season, the larger will be the yield the following spring. As a rule, plants, unless grown in pots, can not be shipped from the North or South until cold weather. The forwarding to the latitude of Richmond begins in September, and to points further south in October and November; from Florida to Louisiana I hear of almost unvarying success.
Of late years the practice of growing plants in pots and sending them out as the florists do flowers has become very prevalent. These potted plants can be set out in July, August and September, and the ball of earth clinging to their roots prevents wilting, and, unless they are neglected, insures their living. Pot-grown plants are readily obtained by sinking two and a half or three inch pots up to their rims in the propagating-beds, and filling them with rich earth mingled with old, thoroughly rotted compost, leaf mould, decayed sods, etc., but never with fresh, unfermented manure. I have found the admixture of a little fine bone meal with the soil to be strong aid to vigorous growth. The young runners are then so guided and held down by a small stone or lump of earth that they will take root in the pots, indeed, quite large plants, if still attached to thrifty runners, may be taken up, their roots shortened to one-quarter of an inch, and these inserted in the little pots, which will be speedily filled with a new growth of roots. It is very important that abundant and continuous moisture should be maintained. A hot wind or a scorching sun will dry out within a few hours the small amount of earth the pots contain, and the plants thus receive a check from which they may never recover. The amateur should watch them closely, and the plant grower should employ a man with the clear understanding that he would lose his position if he permitted moisture to fail even for half a day.
In about two weeks, with good management, the plants will fill the pots with roots, which so interlace as to hold the ball of earth compactly together during transportation. This ball of earth with the roots, separates readily from the pot, and the plant, thus sustained, could be shipped around the world if kept from drying out and the foliage protected from the effects of alternate heat and cold. The agricultural editor of the "New York Weekly Times" writes me that the potted plants are worth their increased cost, if for no other reason, because they are so easily planted in hot weather.
The chief advantage of summer planting lies in the fact that we obtain a good crop the following season, while plants set out in spring should not be permitted to bear at all the same year. If we discover in May or June that our supply is insufficient, or that some new varieties offer us paradisiacal flavors, we can set out the plants in the summer or autumn of the same year, and within eight or ten months gather the fruits of our labors. If the season is somewhat showery, or if one is willing to take the trouble to water and shade the young plants, ordinary layers—that is, plants that have grown naturally in the open ground—will answer almost as well as those that have been rooted in pots. The fact that they do not cost half as much is also in their favor.
The disposition to plant in summer or autumn is steadily increasing, and the following reasons are good and substantial ones for the practice. In our gardens and fields there are many crops that mature in July, August, and September. The cultivation of these crops has probably left the ground mellow, and in good condition for strawberries. Instead of leaving this land idle, or a place for weeds to grow and seed, it can be deeply forked or plowed, and enriched, as has been explained. Even in July, potted plants may be bought, and unless the ground is full of the larvae of the June beetle, or the plants are treated with utter neglect, not one in a hundred will fail. Say the plants cost us two and a half cents each by the time they are planted, instead of one half to one cent as in the spring, is there not a prospect of an equal or larger profit? A potted plant set out in summer or early autumn, and allowed to make no runners, will yield at least a pint of fruit; and usually these first berries are very large and fine, bringing the best prices. Suppose, however, we are able to obtain but ten cents a quart, you still have a margin of two and one-half cents on each plant. Adding two cents to the cost of each plant to cover the expense of cultivation, winter protection, spring mulching, picking, etc., there still remains a profit of half a cent on each plant. Supposing we have an acre containing 14,520 plants, our estimate gives a profit of $72.60 for the first year. If we clear but a quarter of a cent on each plant, we have a profit of $36.30. The prospects are, however, that if we plant early in the summer, on rich ground, and give good cultivation, our plants will yield more than a pint each, and the fruit sell for more than ten cents a quart.
This estimate applies to the common market varieties raised with only ordinary skill and success. Suppose, in contrast, one plants the large, showy, high-flavored varieties, and is able to obtain from fifteen to thirty cents per quart. The expenses in this case are no greater, while the profits are very largely increased.
[Illustration: A Potted Plant]
Good potted plants can be bought for about $2.50 per 100, or $20 per 2,000. I do not think that they can be properly grown and sold at much lower rates and afford a living profit. Freight and express charges are a heavy item of expense, since the earth encasing the roots renders the packages very heavy, and but comparatively few plants can be shipped in one box. But, allowing for all expenses, I think it is evident that people can obtain a fair profit from potted plants within eight or ten months from the time of planting. Moreover, autumn-set plants start with double vigor in early spring, and make a fine growth before the hot, dry weather checks them; and the crop from them the second year will be the very best that they are capable of producing. Two paying crops are thus obtained within two years, and the cost of cultivation the first year is slight, for the plants are set after the great impulse of annual weed growth is past. With spring-set plants you get but one crop in two years. The first year yields nothing unless plants are sold, and yet the cultivation must be unceasing through May, June and July, when Nature seems to give no little thought to the problem of how many weeds can be grown to the square inch. If one wishes early plants, he certainly should practice autumn planting, for a plant set even in November will begin to make runners nearly a month earlier than one set in spring.
Thus far we have looked at the subject from a business standpoint.
Those who wish plants for the home supply certainly should not hesitate to furnish their gardens as early in the summer as possible. To wait two years of our short lives forstrawberriesbecause the plants are a little cheaper in the spring is a phase of economy that suggests the moon. Such self-denial in a good cause would be heroic.
If people will use a little forethought, they can practice summer and autumn planting with double success, independently of the plant grower. We have shown that there is no mystery in raising potted plants. Moreover, in the hottest summers there are showery, cloudy days when ordinary layer plants can be set with perfect safety. If the field or garden bed is near where the layer plants are growing, the latter can be taken up with earth clinging to their roots, and thus have all the advantages of potted plants. Even under the Southern sun, hundreds of acres are, in this manner, set annually in the vicinity of Charleston.
As the autumn grows cool and moist, layer plants can be obtained from a distance and set out profitably in large quantities. The chief danger in late planting results from the tendency of the plants to be thrown out of the ground by the action of the frost, and a few varieties do not seem sufficiently hardy to endure severe cold. I obviate this difficulty by simply hoeing upon the plants two inches of earth, just before the ground freezes in November or December. This winter covering of soil enables me to plant with entire success at any time in the fall—even late in November—instead of spring, when there is a rush of work.
The earth is raked off the plants in March or April, as soon as severe freezing weather is over; otherwise they would decay. Do not first put manure on the plants and then cover with earth—cover with earth only.
Thus it will be seen that each period has its advantages, which will vary with different seasons. If drought and heat come in early May, spring-set plants may suffer badly. Again, periods in summer and autumn may be so hot and dry that even potted plants can only be kept alive by repeated waterings. My practice is to divide my plantings about equally between summer, fall, and spring. I thus take no chances of failure.
I have in my library an admirable little treatise written by the late R. G. Pardee, and printed twenty-five years ago. While the greater part of what he says, relating to the requirements of the plant and its culture, is substantially correct, his somewhat extended list of varieties is almost wholly obsolete. With the exception of Hovey's Seedling, scarcely one can be found in a modern catalogue. Even carefully prepared lists, made at a much later date, contain the names of but few kinds now seen in the garden or market. I have before me the catalogue of Prince & Co., published in 1865, and out of their list of 169 varieties but three are now in general cultivation, and the great majority are utterly unknown. Thus it would seem that a catalogue soon becomes historical, and that the kinds most heralded to-day may exist only in name but a few hence. The reasons can readily be given. The convex heart of every strawberry blossom will be found to consist of pistils, and usually of stamens ranged around them. When both stamens and pistils are found in the same blossom, as is the case with most varieties, it is called a perfect flower, or staminate. In rare instances, strawberry flowers are found which possess stamens without pistils, and these are called male blossoms; far more often varieties exist producing pistils only, and they are named pistillate kinds. Either of the last two if left alone would be barren; the male flowers are always so, but the pistillate or female flowers, if fertilized with pollen from perfect-flowered plants, produce fruit. This fertilizing is effected by the agency of the wind, or by insects seeking honey.
The ovule in the ovarium to which the stigma leads represents, at maturity, a seed—the actual fruit of the strawberry—and within each seed Nature, by a subtile process of her own, wraps up some of the qualities of the plant that produced the seed, and some of the qualities also of the plant from which came the pollen that impregnated the ovule. This seed, planted, produces an entirely new variety, which, as a rule, exhibits characteristics of both its parents, and traits, also, of its grandparents and remote ancestors. The law of heredity is the same as in cattle or the human race. Thus it may be seen that millions of new varieties can be very easily obtained. A single plant-grower often raises many thousands to which he never gives a name, by reason of the fact—noted elsewhere than in the fruit garden—that most of these new strawberries in no respect surpass or even equal their parents. The great majority, after fruiting—which they do when two years old—are thrown away. A new variety which is not so good as the old ones from which it came should not be imposed upon the public. But they often are, sometimes deliberately, but far more often for other reasons; as, for instance, through the enthusiasm of the possessor. It ishisseedling; therefore it is wonderful. He pets it and gives it extra care, to which even very interior varieties generously respond.
In the same old catalogue to which I have referred Prince & Co. announce: "We now offer a few of our superior new seedlings, with descriptions, and there is not an acid or inferior one among them. There is not one of them that is not superior to all the seedlings recently introduced." Not one of these thirty-five "superior seedlings," to my knowledge, is now in cultivation. They have disappeared in less than fifteen years; and yet I have no doubt that on the grounds of Prince & Co. they gave remarkable promise.
Again, a fruit grower sends out second and third-rate kinds from defective knowledge. He has not judiciously compared his petted seedlings with the superb varieties already in existence. It is soon discovered by general trial that the vaunted new-comers are not so good as the old; and so they also cease to be cultivated, leaving only a name.
The editor of the "Rural New Yorker" has adopted a course which would be very useful indeed to the public, if it could be carried out in the various fruit-growing centres of the country. He obtains a few plants of every new variety offered for sale, and tests them side by side, under precisely the same conditions, reporting the results in his paper. Such records of experience are worth any amount of theory, or the half-truths of those who are acquainted with but few vanities. I tested fifty kinds last year in one specimen-bed. The plants were treated precisely alike, and permitted to mature all their fruit, I being well content to let eight or ten bushels go to waste in order to see just what each variety could do. From such trial-beds the comparative merits of each kind can be seen at a glance. Highly praised new-comers, which are said to supersede everything, must show what they are and can do beside the old standard varieties that won their laurels years ago. I thus learn that but few can endure the test, and occasionally I find an old kind sent out with a new name. When visiting fruit farms in New Jersey last summer, I was urged to visit a small place on which was growing a wonderful new berry. The moment I saw the fruit and foliage, I recognized the Col. Cheney, forced into unusual luxuriance by very favorable conditions. Other experienced growers, whose attention I called to the distinguishing marks of this variety, agreed with me at once; but the proprietor, who probably had never seen the Cheney before and did not know where the plants came from, thought it was a remarkable new variety, and as such it might have been honestly sent out. Trial-beds at once detect the old kinds with new names, and thus may save the public from a vast deal of imposition.
Such beds would also be of very great service in suggesting the varieties that can be grown with profit in certain localities. While the behavior of different kinds differs greatly in varying soils and latitudes, there is no such arbitrary mystery in the matter as many imagine. I am satisfied that the sorts which did best in my trial-bed give the best promise of success wherever the soil and climate are similar. In contrast, let a trial-bed be made on a light soil in Delaware or Virginia, and 100 varieties be planted. Many that are justly favorites in our locality would there shrivel and burn, proving valueless; but those that did thrive and produce well, exhibiting a power to endure a Southern sun, and to flourish in sand, should be the choice for all that region. To the far South and North, and in the extremes of the East and West, trial-beds would give still varying results; but such results would apply to the soils and climate of the region if proper culture were given. A horse can be mismanaged on a Kentucky stock-farm, and there are those who would have ill luck with strawberries in the Garden of Eden—they are so skilful and persist in doing the wrong thing. It would well remunerate large planters to maintain trial-beds of all the small fruits, and their neighbors could afford to pay well for the privilege of visiting them and learning the kinds adapted to their locality.
I think it may be laid down as a general truth, that those kinds which do well on a light soil in one locality tend to do well on such soils in all localities. The same principle applies to those requiring heavy land. There will be exceptions, and but few of those containing foreign blood will thrive in the far South.
In the brief limits of this chapter I shall merely offer suggestions and the results of some experience, premising that I give but one man's opinion, and that all have a right to differ from me. At the close of this volume may be found more accurate descriptions of the varieties that I have thought worth naming.
Among the innumerable candidates for favor, here and there one will establish itself by persistent well-doing as a standard sort. We then learn that some of these strawberry princes, like the Jucunda, Triomphe de Gand, and President Wilder, flourish only in certain soils and latitudes, while others, like the Charles Downing, Monarch of the West, and Wilson, adapt themselves to almost every condition and locality. Varieties of this class are superseded very slowly; but it would seem, with the exception of Wilson's Albany, that the standards of one generation have not been the favorites of the next. The demand of our age is for large fruit The demand has created a supply, and the old standard varieties have given way to a new class, of which the Monarch and Seth Boyden are types. The latest of these new mammoth berries is the Sharpless, originated by Mr. J. K. Sharpless, of Catawissa, Pa.; which shows the progress made since horticulturists began to develop the wildF. Virginianaby crossing varieties and by cultivation.
The most accurate and extended list of varieties with which I am acquainted is to be found in Downing's "Encyclopedia of Fruits and Fruit Trees of America." It contains the names, with their synonymes, and the descriptions of over 250 kinds, and to this I refer the reader.
The important question to most minds is not how many varieties exist, but what kinds will give the best returns. If one possesses the deep, rich, moist loam that has been described, almost any good variety will yield a fair return, and the best can be made to give surprising results. For table use and general cultivation, North and South, East and West, I would recommend the Charles Downing, Monarch of the West, Seth Boyden, Kentucky Seedling, Duchess, and Golden Defiance. These varieties are all first-rate in quality, and they have shown a wonderful adaptation to varied soils and climates. They have been before the public a number of years, and have persistently proved their excellence. Therefore, they are worthy of a place in every garden. With these valuable varieties for our chief supply, we can try a score of other desirable kinds, retaining such as prove to be adapted to our taste and soil.
If our land is heavy, we can add to the above, in Northern latitudes,Triomphe de Gand, Jucunda, President Wilder, Forest Rose, PresidentLincoln, Sharpless, Pioneer, and Springdale.
If the soil is light, containing a large proportion of sand and gravel, the Charles Downing, Kentucky Seedling, Monarch of the West, Duchess, Cumberland Triumph, Miner's Prolific, Golden Defiance, and Sharpless will be almost certain to yield a fine supply of large and delicious berries, both North and South.
Let me here observe that varieties that do well on light soils also thrive equally well and often better on heavy land. But the converse is not true. The Jucunda, for instance, can scarcely be made to exist on light land. In the South, it should be the constant aim to find varieties whose foliage can endure the hot sun. I think that the Sharpless, which is now producing a great sensation as well as mammoth berries, will do well in most Southern localities. It maintained throughout the entire summer the greenest and most vigorous foliage I ever saw. Miner's Prolific, Golden Defiance, Early Hudson, and Cumberland Triumph also appear to me peculiarly adapted to Southern cultivation.
As we go north, the difficulties of choice are not so great. Coolness and moisture agree with the strawberry plant. There the question of hardiness is to be first considered. In regions, however, where the snow falls early and covers the ground all winter, the strawberry is not so exposed as with us, for our gardens are often bare in zero weather. Usually, it is not the temperature of the air that injures a dormant strawberry plant, but alternations of freezing and thawing. The deep and unmelting snows often enable the horticulturist to raise successfully in Canada tender fruits that would "winter-kill" much further south. If abundant protection is therefore provided, either by nature or by art, the people of the North can take their choice from among the best. In the high latitudes, early kinds will be in request, since the season of growth is brief. The best early berries are Duchess, Bidwell, Pioneer, Early Hudson, Black Defiance, Duncan, Durand's Beauty, and, earliest of all, Crystal City. The last-named ripened first on my place in the summer of 1879, and although the fruit is of medium size, and rather soft, I fear, the plant is so vigorous and easily grown that I think it is worth general trial North and South. I am informed that it promises to take the lead in Missouri.
Thus far I have named those kinds whose fine flavor and beauty entitle them to a place in the home garden. But with a large class, market qualities are more worthy of consideration; and this phase of the question introduces us to some exceedingly popular varieties not yet mentioned. The four great requirements of a market strawberry are productiveness, size, a good, bright color, and—that it may endure long carriage and rough handling—firmness. Because of the indifference of the consumer, as explained in an earlier chapter, that which should be the chief consideration—flavor—is scarcely taken into account. In the present unenlightened condition of the public, one of the oldest strawberries on the list—Wilson's Seedling—is more largely planted than all other kinds together. It is so enormously productive, it succeeds so well throughout the entire country, and is such an early berry, that, with the addition of its fine carrying qualities, it promises to be the great market berry for the next generation also. But this variety is not at all adapted to thin, poor land, and is very impatient of drought. In such conditions, the berries dwindle rapidly in size, and even dry up on the vines. Where abundant fertility and moisture can be maintained, the yield of a field of Wilsons is simply marvellous. On a dry hillside close by, the crop from the same variety may not pay for picking. Plantations of Wilsons should be renewed every two years, since the plant speedily exhausts itself, producing smaller berries with each successive season. The Wilson is perhaps the best berry for preserving, since it is hard and its acid is rich and not watery.
A rival of the Wilson has appeared within the last few years—the Crescent Seedling, also an early berry, originated by Mr. Parmelee, of New Haven, Conn. At first, it received unbounded praise; now, it gets too much censure. It is a very distinct and remarkable variety, and, like the Wilson, I think, will fill an important place in strawberry culture. Its average size does not much exceed that of the Wilson; its flavor, when fully ripe, is about equal in the estimation of those who do not like acid fruit. In productiveness, on many soils, it will far exceed any variety with which I am acquainted. It is just this capacity for growing on thin, poor soils—anywhere and under any circumstances—that gives to it its chief value. In hardiness and vitality it is almost equal to the Canada thistle. The young plants are small, and the foliage is slender and delicate; but they have the power to live and multiply beyond that of any other variety I have seen. It thrives under the suns of Georgia and Florida, and cares naught for the cold of Canada; it practically extends the domain of the strawberry over the continent, and renders the laziest man in the land, who has no strawberries, without excuse. One of my beds yielded at the rate of 346 bushels to the acre, and the bright, handsome scarlet of the berries caused them to sell for as much in the open market as varieties of far better flavor. It is too soft for long carriage by rail. Those to whom flavor and large size are the chief considerations will not plant it, but those who have a near and not very fastidious market, that simply demands quantity and fine appearance, will grow it both largely and profitably. The stamens of the Crescent are so imperfectly developed that every tenth row in the field should be Wilsons, or some other early and perfect-flowered variety.
In the Champion, we have a late market berry that is steadily growing in favor. On rich, moist land it is almost as productive as the Crescent. The fruit averages much larger than the Wilson, while its rich crimson color makes it very attractive in the baskets. The berries, like the two kinds already named, turn red before they are ripe, and in this immature condition their flavor is very poor, but when fully ripe they are excellent. The transformation is almost as great as in a persimmon. Under generous culture, the Champion yields superb berries, that bring the best prices. It also does better than most kinds under neglect and drought. It is too soft for long carriage, and its blossoms are pistillate.
Within a few years, a new variety named Windsor Chief has been disseminated, and the enormous yield of 17,000 quarts per acre has been claimed for it. It is said to be a seedling of the Champion fertilized with the Charles Downing variety. If there has been no mistake in this history of its origin, it is a remarkable instance of the reproduction of the traits of one parent only, for in no respect have I been able thus far to see wherein it differs from the Champion.
The Captain Jack is another late variety, which is enormously productive of medium-sized berries. It is a great favorite in Missouri and some other regions. The berries carry well to market, but their flavor is second-rate.
The good size, firmness, and lateness of the Glendale—a variety recently introduced—will probably secure for it a future as a market berry.
In the South, Neunan's Prolific, or the "Charleston Berry," as it is usually called, is already the chief variety for shipping. It is an aromatic berry, and very attractive as it appears in our markets in March and April, but it is even harder and sourer than an unripe Wilson. When fully matured on the vine it is grateful to those who like an acid berry. Scarcely any other kind is planted around Charleston and Savannah.
These six varieties, or others like them, will supply the first great need of all large markets—quantity. With the exception of the last, which is not productive in the North, and requires good treatment even in the South, they yield largely under rough field culture. The fruit can be sold very cheaply and yet give a fair profit. Only a limited number of fancy berries can be sold at fancy prices, but thousands of bushels can be disposed of at eight and ten cents per quart.
Still, I would advise any one who is supplying the market, thoroughly to prepare and enrich an acre or more of moist but well drained land, and plant some of the large, showy berries, like the Sharpless, Monarch, and Seth Boyden. If he has heavy, rich soil, let him also try the Jucunda, President Lincoln, and, especially, the Triomphe de Gand. These varieties always have a ready sale, even when the market is glutted with common fruit, and they often command very high prices. When the soil suits them, they frequently yield crops that are not so far below the Wilson in quantity. Fifty bushels of large, handsome berries may bring as much, or more, than one hundred bushels of small fruit, while the labor and expense of shipping and picking are reduced one-half.
I suppose that Mr. E. W. Durand, of Irvington, N. J., obtains more money from one acre of his highly cultivated strawberries than do many growers from ten acres. Mr. H. Jerolaman, of Hilton, N. J., has given me some accurate statistics that well illustrate my meaning. "My yield," he writes, in 1877, "from one acre, planted chiefly with the Seth Boyden, was 327 bushels 15 1/2 quarts, which were sold for $1,386.21. A strict account was kept. Since that time I have been experimenting with Mr. Durand's large berries, and have not done so well. In 1878, I obtained $1,181 from one acre, one-half planted with the Seth Boyden and the other with the Great American. The year of 1879 was my poorest. Nearly all my plants were Great American and Beauty, and the yield was 121 bushels, selling for $728. The average cost per acre, for growing, picking, marketing, and manure, is $350. I am not satisfied but that I shall have to return to the old Seth Boyden in order to keep taking the first State premiums, as I have done for the past three years."
This record of experience shows what can be done with the choice varieties if an appreciative market is within reach, and one will give the high culture they demand. Last summer a neighbor of mine obtained eighteen cents per quart for his Monarch strawberries, when Wilsons brought but ten cents. At the same time, these superb rarities often do not pay at all under poor field culture and in matted rows. We may also note, in passing, how slowly fine old standard kinds, like the Boyden, are superseded by new varieties.
I should not be at all surprised if the Charles Downing became one of the most popular market strawberries of the future. It is already taking the lead in many localities It is moderately firm—sufficiently so, with a little extra care, to reach most markets in good condition. It is more easily raised than the Wilson, and on thin, dry land is more productive. A bed will last, if kept clean, four or five years instead of two, and yield better the fifth year than the first. Although the fruit is but of medium size, it is so fine in flavor that it has only to be known to create a steady demand. The Kentucky Seedling is another berry of the same class, and has the same general characteristics—with this exception, that it is a very late berry, In flavor, it is melting and delicious. It does well on almost any soil, even a light and sandy one, and is usually very productive.
The best white strawberry I have ever seen is Lennig's White. When exposed to the sun, it has a decided pink flush on one side. It is beautiful and delicious, and so aromatic that a single berry will perfume a large apartment. The fruit is exceedingly delicate, but the plant is a shy bearer.
In the White and Bed Alpines, especially the ever-bearing varieties, and in the Hautbois class, we have very distinct strawberries that are well worthy of a place in the garden. From a commercial point of view, they have no value. This may settle the question with some, but not a few of us like to plant many things that are never to go to market.
In conclusion, if I were asked what is the most beautiful and delicious strawberry in existence, I should name the President Wilder. Perfect in flavor, form and beauty, it seems to unite in one exquisite compound the best qualities of the two great strawberry species of the world, theF. Virginianaand theF. Chilensis. The only fault that I have ever discovered is that, in many localities, it is not productive. No more do diamonds lie around like cobblestones. It is, however, fairly productive under good culture and on most soils, and yet it is possible that not one in a hundred of the habitues of Delmonico's has ever tasted it.
We may secure good plants of the best varieties, but if we do not set them out properly the chances are against our success, unless the weather is very favorable. So much depends on a right start in life, even in a strawberry bed. There are no abstruse difficulties in properly imbedding a plant. One would think that if a workman gave five minutes' thought and observation to the subject, he would know exactly how to do it. If one used his head as well as his hands, it would be perfectly obvious that a plant held (as in Figuree) with its roots spread out so that the fresh, moist earth could come in contact with each fibre, would stand a far better chance than one set out by any of the other methods illustrated. And yet, in spite of all I can do or say, I have never been able to prevent very many of my plants from being set (as in Figurea) too deeply, so that the crown and tender leaves were covered and smothered with earth; or (as in Figureb) not deeply enough, thus leaving the roots exposed. Many others bury the roots in a long, tangled bunch, as in Figurec. If one would observe how a plant starts on its new career, he would see that the roots we put in the ground are little more than a base of operations. All along their length, and at their ends, little white rootlets start, if the conditions are favorable, almost immediately. If the roots are huddled together, so that only a few outside ones are in contact with the life-giving soil, the conditions are of course most unfavorable. Again, many planters are guilty of the folly illustrated in Figured. They hastily scoop out a shallow hole, in which the roots, which should be down in the cool depths of the soil, curve like a half-circle toward or to the very surface.
In the most favorable weather of early spring a plant is almost certain to grow, no matter how greatly abused; but even then it does far better if treated properly, while at other seasons nature cannot be stupidly ignored. It is almost as easy to set out a plant correctly as otherwise.
[Illustration: WRONG METHODS OP PLANTING]
Let the excavation be made deep enough to put the roots, spread out like a fan, down their whole length into the soil. Hold the plant with the left hand, as in Figuree. First, half fill the hole with fine rich earth with the right hand, and press it firmly against the roots; next, fill it evenly, and then, with the thumb and finger of both hands, put your whole weight on the soil on each side of the plant—as close to it as possible—and press until the crown or point from which the leaves start is just even with the surface.
If you can pull the plant up again by its leaves, it is not firm enough in the ground. If a man uses brain and eye, he can learn to work very rapidly. By one dexterous movement he scoops the excavation with a trowel. By a second movement, he makes the earth firm against the lower half of the roots. By a third movement, he fills the excavation and settles the plant into its final position. One workman will often plant twice as many as another, and not work any harder. Negro women at Norfolk, Virginia, paid at fifty cents per day, will often set two or three thousand. Many Northern laborers, who ask more than twice that sum, will not set half as many plants. I have been told of one man, however, who could set 1,000 per hour. I should examine his work carefully, however, in the fear that it was not well done.
[Illustration: THE PROPER METHOD]
If the ground is so flat that water lies upon it in wet seasons, then throw it up into beds with a plow, thus giving the plants a broad, level surface on which to grow; for I think the best success will generally be obtained with level culture, or as near an approach to it as possible.
Always make it a point to plant in moist, freshly stirred earth. Never let the roots come in contact with dry, lumpy soil. Never plant when the ground is wet and sticky, unless it be at the beginning of a rainstorm which bids fair to continue for some time. If sun or wind strikes land which has been recently stirred while it is too wet, the hardness of mortar results.
In spring it is best to shorten in the roots one-third. This promotes a rapid growth of new rootlets, and therefore of the plants. In the summer and fall the young plants are not so well furnished with roots, and usually it is best to leave them uncut.
[Illustration: ROOT PRUNING]
It often happens that during long transportation the roots become sour, black, and even a little mouldy. In this case, wash them in clean water from which the chill has been taken. Trim carefully, taking off the blackened, shrivelled ends. Sprinkle a couple of tablespoonfuls of fine bone meal immediately about the plant after setting, and then water it. If the weather is warm, soak the ground and keep it moist until there is rain. Never let a plant falter or go back from lack of moisture.
How often should one water? Often enough to keep the groundmoist all the time, night and day. There is nothing mechanical in taking care of a young plant any more than in the care of a baby. Simply give it what it needs until it is able to take care of itself. The plant may require a little watching and attention for a few days in warm weather. If an opportune storm comes, the question of growth is settled favorably at once; but if a "dry spell" ensues, be vigilant. At nine o'clock A.M., even well-watered plants may begin to wilt, showing that they require shade, which may be supplied by inverted flower-pots, old berry-baskets, shingles or boards. A handful of weeds, grass, or even of dry earth, thrown on the crown of the plant in the morning, and removed by five P.M., is preferable to nothing. Anything is better than stolidly sticking a plant in the ground and leaving it alone just long enough to die. Many, on the other hand, kill their plants with kindness. They dose the young things with guano, unfermented manure, and burn them up. Coolness, moisture, and shade are the conditions for a new start in life.
As has been explained already, pot-grown plants, with a ball of earth clinging to their roots, can be set out during the hot months with great ease, and with little danger of loss. At the same time, let me distinctly say that such plants require fair treatment. The ground should be "firmed" around them just as strongly, and they should be so well watched as to guard against the slightest wilting from heat and drought.
In ordinary field culture, let the rows be three feet apart, and let the plants stand one foot from each other in a row. At this distance, 14,520 are required for an acre. When land is scarce, the rows can be two and a half feet from each other. In garden culture, where the plow and cultivator will not be used, there should be two feet between the rows, and the plants should be one foot apart as before. With this rule in mind, any one can readily tell how many plants he will need for a given area.