Chapter C: S. Harrison, Nurseryman, York, Neb (1)

Some of the promises regarding our future stagger us with their vastness. "To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me on my throne." But how is it down here? Thou "crownest him with riches and honor." Thou hast "put all things under his feet." Unto fields where feet of angels come not we are chosen as partners of the Heavenly Father to make this a more fruitful and beautiful world.

In our life work much depends on our attitude regarding our calling. We can plod like an ox, or like Markham's semi-brute man with the hoe, and make that the badge of servitude to toil, or we can make it a wand in a magician's hand to call forth radiant forms of beauty from the somber earth to smile upon us and load the air with fragrance. We can live down in the basement of horticulture or in the upper story.

Man is coming to his own. The savage trembled at the lightning stroke which shivered the mighty oak. Little knew he that here was a giant at play waiting to be tamed and harnessed so he could be the most obedient servant--ready at the master's beck to leap a continent, dive under the ocean, draw heavy trains, and run acres of machinery. Man reaches out his wand, and steam, gas, and oil rise up to do his will.

If, with the advance of civilization, he wants beautiful things to adorn person or home, he finds subterranean gardens of precious gems almost priceless in value--gems that are immortals, flowers that never fade, prophets all of the "glory to be revealed."

You have heard of the marvelous Persian garden of gems--four hundred feet in length and ninety feet wide--made to imitate the most beautiful blooms of earth. It cost millions upon millions. Do you know that it is in your power, with the advance of floriculture, to create gardens far more resplendent in beauty--great gardens of delight fit for the touch of angel's feet, while the whole is flooded with billows of sweetest perfume? Three years ago that was a patch of barren earth; now you have pulled down a section of paradise upon it and condensed there the tints of the morning, the splendors of the evening, the beauty of the rainbow, and the effulgence which flames in the mantles of the suns.

I love to think of Nature as a person--first born daughter of God--her head white with the snows of the centuries, her cheeks radiant with the flush of recurrent springtime, emblems of eternal youth. She takes you by the hand, leads you into the forests, talks to you of the soul of the tree, tells you how intelligent it is. There is one standing in the open. It has performed a feat no civil engineer can emulate. Think of those roots so busily scurrying around in the earth, gathering food to send up the cambium highway to nourish the trees. See the taut cords thrown out to anchor it against the storms. Look at those trees on the outskirts. Among wild animals the strongest are on guard on the outside to protect the herd. So these sentinel trees guard their wards against the storms. Fool man cuts down the guards and the wards fall before the sweep of the storm. Mother Nature--dear, friendly soul--takes you into her holy of holies and reveals her mysteries. She makes a confident of you. She throws open her doors and shows you the wide vistas of a new land you may enter and glorify. Follow her direction, and what a friend you have! Cross her, thinking you know more than she does, and she laughs at you. She takes you into the garden and the nursery and discloses her wonders and helps you to work miracles. You plant seeds and bulbs, and beauty rises to greet you. Did you ever think of the royal position of the florist and horticulturist?

The sacred poet speaks of the "labor of the olive." What a flood of light that opens upon us. "All things are yours." Let us go out into the grove you have planted. I once took off my hat to myself. While living in the Republican Valley, near the 100th meridian, I planted some bull pine seed. When the little trees were large enough, I transplanted them in rows six feet apart and started a miniature forest. Twenty-five years after I went to see them. The rows were straight. The trees had fine bodies six inches through. They were miniature columns in a temple, holding up a canopy of green. The ground was covered with a thick carpet of needles. It was one of the most pleasing sights I ever saw. Then I thought, "What if I had planted forty acres?" I would have had a Mecca to which horticultural pilgrims would have flocked from hundreds of miles. I planted the trees, and the faithful servants kept on working day and night, and that beautiful grove was the result. Every tree you plant is your servant, and how faithful it is--no shirking, always at it whether you are looking or not. Look at that cherry tree. How the tiny rootlets scurry through the soil--faithful children gathering food to send up to their mother. Look at that flood of bloom. Then the fruit grows till a mass of red gleams from the leafy coverts. There is a great difference between a patch of brown earth and your faithful Jonathan. What a marvel that little patch of soil, absolutely milked by those busy foragers, and the extracts of it glowing in red beauty on the tree. Talk of chemists! Those quiet rootlets surpass them all.

If you want to be in the realm of miracles, lay down your hoe awhile and sit among your flowers. Your brain devised the plan, your hand planted the seeds and bulbs. "Behold the lilies, how they grow." Now sit there and think it out. At your feet are artists no human skill may imitate. Two peonies grow side by side. Golden Harvest opens with yellow petals fading to purest white. In the center is a miniature Festiva Maxima--blood drops and all. How can those roots send up the golden tints, the snowy white and the red, and never have the colors mixed? Close by is a Plutarch, deep brilliant red. The roots intermingle. How is it possible to pick out of the dull soil, Nature's eternal drab, that brilliant color for your peony? There are your iris, the new sorts absolutely undescribable. There are a dozen different shades in a single bloom. But those blind artists at work in their subterranean studios never make a mistake. The standards must have just such colors, the falls just such tints, and where did they get that dazzling radiant reflex such as you see on Perfection, Monsignor and Black Knight? But it is always there shimmering in the sunlight. There is a fairy--a pure snowy queen. How was that sweetness and purity ever extracted from the scentless soil? Every bloom uncorks a vial of perfume which has the odor of the peach blossom.

Did you ever sit down in your kingdom and see what a royal throne you occupied? What a reception your flowers give you! The ambrosia and nectar of the feasts of the deities of fable are overshadowed by the fragrance and sweetness of your worshippers. It would seem that every flower, like a royal subject, was bent on rendering the most exalted honor to her king. No company of maidens preparing for nuptials were ever arrayed like these. Each one is striving to do her best. The highest art ever displayed in the palaces of kings is no comparison to the beauty and splendor of your reception. By divine right you are supreme. The fertile soil puts her tributes at your feet; for you all the viewless influences of nature are at work; for you the sun shines and the showers fall. So brothers, don't creep but mount up as on eagle's wings. Invoice yourself and see how great you are! Don't live all the while in the basement--spend some time in the upper story of your calling!

You are not making the earth weep blood. You are not spreading on the fields a carpet of mangled forms. You are not dropping ruin and death from the skies or polluting God's pure waters with submarines. You are not turning all your energies into the work of destruction, despoiling the treasures of art and the pride of the ages and turning the fairest portions of the earth into desolations. You are not changing yourselves into demons to gloat over starvation and ruin. You are soldiers of peace. Behind you was the somber earth. You touched it with the wand of your power, and beauty, health and pleasure sprang up to bless you.

See what you have done! You have clothed the barrenness of the dreary plain with gardens, orchards and forests. You have been at work with God and glorified a vast empire, and now he has blessed the work of your hands. Instead of the air sodden with tears and tremulous with the wail of widows and orphans, you are welcomed with the joy of children and the delight of mothers. All along the lines of progress you receive the most cordial ovations, and when you pass on to the land where "everlasting spring abides", may you receive the royal welcome, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

The Newer Fruits in 1915 and How Secured.

PROF. N. E. HANSEN, STATE COLLEGE, BROOKINGS, SOUTH DAKOTA.

Mr. Hansen: Mr. President and Fellow Members: This subject is not an entirely satisfactory one this year owing to the fact that we lost about three sets of tomato plants from frost, the last frost coming the ninth of June. These conditions, of course, are unusual, but it prevented the fruiting of a lot of new fruit seedlings which appeared promising. However, I decided to propagate two new plums because they had borne several excellent crops. One of these is a very late plum of good quality, with flesh of peculiar crisp texture, which ripens after all the other plums, about a week before frost. It is a combination of the Wolf plum with the Kansas sand plum (_Prunus Watsoni_). The tree is of late dwarf habit but very productive, and its late season may give it a place.

Another plum which I decided to place in propagation is a hybrid of the wild plum of Manitoba with the Japanese plum. The mother tree was raised from wild plum pits received from Manitoba a few years ago. These bear very freely and are the earliest of the native plums. The tree is of low, dwarf habit. The fruit is not as large as my Waneta, which is a hybrid of the largest native plum, the Terry, (_Prunus Americana_), with the Apple, one of the best of Burbank's Japanese plums. But since the range of the plum Manitoba is so far north, it may give greater hardiness where that is needed. At any rate, it is of interest to know that the Manitoba native plum can be mated with the Japanese plum.

Pears constitute my favorite line at present. "What can I do for hardy pears?" is a question I have been asked many times. The prairie northwest cannot raise pears owing to the cold or the blight. In my travels in Asia, including four tours of exploration in Siberia, I made a business of buying up basketfuls of pears in Manchuria, Mongolia, Western China and Eastern Siberia and saving the seed, giving the flesh away to the coolies, who were glad always to get the fruit. These have raised me many seedlings. In addition I have imported a lot of pears from Russia.

The hardy, blight-proof sand pear used by Prof. N.E. Hansen in breeding pears for the Northwest. A careful study of our eastern Arctic pears has been made recently by Mr. Alfred Rehder, botanist at Arnold Arboretum, and this form of sand pear is now called Pyrus Ovoidea instead of Pyrus Sinensis, or Pyrus Simoni.]

The pears of northern China and eastern Siberia are usually called the Chinese sand pear and have been given various names, _Pyrus Sinensis_, _Pyrus Ussuriensis_, _Pyrus Simoni_. The form I am working with mainly was received in the spring of 1899 at the South Dakota Station under the name of _Pyrus Simoni_, from Dr. C.S. Sargent, Director of the Arnold Arboretum, Boston, Massachusetts. Since the publication of Bulletin 159, of the South Dakota Experiment Station, April, 1915, in which I give a brief outline of this work, the pears of this region have been studied by Dr. Alfred Rehder of the Arnold Arboretum, and it now appears that the true name of _Pyrus Simonii_ should be _Pyrus Ovoidea_. These trees have proved perfectly hardy at Brookings and have never suffered from blight. Varieties of other pears have been top-grafted on this tree, and they have blighted, but the blight did not affect the rest of the tree. Mr. Charles G. Patten, Charles City, Iowa, also has a form of the Chinese sand pear which has proven immune to blight. In other places sand pears have been under trial which have suffered from winter-killing. However, I understand that the pear Mr. Patten has tapers toward the stem, while the pear received by me as _Pyrus Simonii_ tapers toward the blossom end. The actual source of seed is really of greater importance than the botanical name, as it is possible to get the seed from too far south, whereas we should plant only the northern form of the species.

The fruits of _Pyrus Ovoidea_ correspond in size to the ordinary pear much like the Whitney crab-apple does to the apple. It is a real pear, juicy and sweet, but not high flavored. Other varieties of pears have been top-grafted on this tree and have blighted, but the blight did not affect the rest of the tree. During the many seasons I have had this pear the tip of one twig only showed a very slight trace the past season, but I did not determine it was really blight. It is practically immune.

I have also worked the Birch-Leaved pear, _Pyrus betulifolia_, Bunge, a native of northern China, and a choice ornamental tree. Trees of this species were received from a nursery in Germany in the fall of 1896 and have proven perfectly hardy and quite resistant to blight. The fruit is quite small, usually less than one-half inch in diameter, covered with thick russet. _Betulifolia_ means birch-leaved, alluding to the shape of the leaf.

Now, the pear is a difficult thing to work with on account of blight. What is blight? It is an American bacterial disease, not found in the home of the pear, Asia or Europe, so that during the 6,000 years of its cultivation of recorded history the pear has never had to meet the bacterial enemy known as blight. That is one of the reasons, I presume, why they have such strict quarantine in Europe against American trees. The question with pears is, will they stand blight or not? They are spending hundreds of thousands of dollars in California to keep out blight. Blight is a native of the northeast United States, and they are keeping it down on the Pacific slope, but they are always on the edge of the precipice. The whole pear culture of America is in an unsatisfactory state, owing to this danger.

With these two northern pears as a foundation, I have endeavored to secure seedlings with fruit of large size and choice quality by hybridizing them with many of the best cultivated pears from Germany, France, England, Central Russia and Finland, as well as with some of the best varieties from the eastern pear-growing regions of the United States. The work has been done mostly under glass in our fruit-breeding greenhouse. Some of these fruits weighed one and one-fourth pounds. Some of the resulting seedlings are subject to blight, while many have thus far shown immunity. Since it is impossible to determine their relative immunity to blight except by distributing them for trial elsewhere, I sent out scions in the spring of 1915 of thirty-nine of these new seedlings to twenty-four men in several states. These varieties are under restrictions until fruited and deemed worthy of further propagation.

I did not know whether immunity to blight is a possibility or only an iridescent dream, so I made no charge for these scions. The only test of a pear seedling, the same as with the apple, is that of propagation. Furthermore, if you have but the one seedling tree you may lose it by accident; whereas, if you send it out to a number of good men, you cannot lose it.

It should be distinctly understood that none of these new seedlings have borne fruit, but by what may be termed the projective efficiency of the pedigree I am satisfied that some of them will be valuable. In like manner, a horse-breeder depends so much on the pedigree in his colts that he is willing to enter them in a race. I believe something of value will come from this line of work. I do know that my _Pyrus Ovoidea_ is a pretty good, juicy little pear, a whole lot better than no pear at all. I hope these seedlings will keep up their immunity to blight. The original seedling trees certainly have had every chance to become affected by blight, as they were surrounded by blighting apple trees, crab-apple trees and pear trees, and no blight was cut out. I thought this was the best way, since that is the test they will have in the farmers' orchards when they go out from the nursery.

_Hardy Pear Stocks._--Now we are up against the problem of stocks for these hardy pears. The quince is a standard dwarf stock, but it is not hardy enough for us. Last spring I planted 12,000 seedlings of the various commercial pear stocks, including imported French pear seedlings, American grown French pear seedlings, Kieffer pear seedlings and Japan pear seedlings. From one season's experience I like the Japan pear the best. The French pear seedlings, especially, did not do well. The Japan pear stock is coming into high favor in recent years on our Pacific slope, where it is sometimes called the Chinese blight-proof stock. The French pear stock is not in favor on our Pacific slope owing to their liability to blight. We may also expect from the French pear stock a decided lack of hardiness. The Japan pear stock is probably some form of the Chinese sand pear. The seed may come from too far south, whereas we should plant only the northern form of the species. This varying degree of hardiness in the Japan pear seedling of commerce I find discussed in a German horticultural paper. I have tried to establish a regular source of supply by importing the seed, but it is difficult indeed to do this. To avoid root-killing at the north we should mulch these Japan pear seedlings heavily until we get enough orchards of this truly hardy form, _Pyrus Ovoidea_, planted so we can raise our own stocks. I firmly believe we will extend pear culture on the North American continent clear to the Arctic Circle if we wish.

For pear stocks I am going to try everything I can think of. Some years ago I worked pears on Juneberry stock from a hint given me many years ago by Professor J.L. Budd. These grew well and were in full bloom when five feet high, but were lost in clearing off a block of trees. I hope to try this again on a larger scale. The mountain ash and hawthorn are sometimes used, but both will be expensive and perhaps short-lived. The quince is the dwarf stock of commerce but would need to be very heavily mulched to prevent root-killing. Such dwarf pears are splendid in the back yard, or for training up against the side of the house; the fruit is fine and large, and the trees fruit the second year. The pear will root in nursery by grafting with a long scion on apple seedlings. I hope there will be much work done along this line.

To sum up the question, I think there is a hardy pear in sight. We have the requisite pedigree back of it, and it seems that the quality we call immunity to blight is in some of these Chinese or Siberian pears. If we can combine the hardiness and blight-resistance of this Siberian pear with the large size and high quality of fruit of the European pear, with thousands of years of cultivation back of it, then we have the solution of the pear question in sight. Millions and millions of people are watching for a good hardy pear. (Applause.)

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WARNING TO MUSHROOM GROWERS.--As the result of a serious case of mushroom poisoning in a mushroom grower's family recently, the mushroom specialists of the U.S. Department of Agriculture have issued a warning to commercial and other growers of mushrooms to regard with suspicion any abnormal mushrooms which appear in their beds. It seems that occasionally sporadic forms appear in mushroom beds, persist for a day or two, and then disappear. These are generally manure-inhabiting species and may be observed shortly after the beds have been cased. In the instance cited, however, these fungi appeared in considerable numbers at the time the edible _Agaricus campestris_ should have been ready for the market, and the dealer supposed it was probably a new brown variety and tried it in his own family. As a result, five persons were rendered absolutely helpless and were saved after several hours only through the assistance of a second physician who had had experience with this type of poisoning.

In the opinion of the Department, this case is peculiarly significant and demonstrates that the grower must be able to distinguish _Agaricus campestris_ from any of the wild forms of mushrooms that may appear in the beds. Under the circumstances, the Department strongly urges every grower to make himself thoroughly familiar with the cultivated species. Complete descriptions, with pictures of poisonous and cultivated species, are contained in Department Bulletin 175, "Mushrooms and Other Common Fungi," which can be purchased for 30 cents from the Superintendent of Documents, Government Printing Office, Washington, D.C.

Manufacture of Cider Vinegar from Minnesota Apples.

PROF. W. G. BRIERLY, HORT. DEPT., UNIVERSITY FARM, ST. PAUL.

Cider making is an old process, carried on in a small way on the farm or more extensively in the commercial "quick process." From apple cider many different products are obtained, chief of these being vinegar and others being bottled cider, boiled cider, apple butter and, more recently, concentrated cider and cider syrup. This discussion will consider only the manufacture of vinegar.

As a farm process, the making of cider vinegar utilizes an otherwise waste product, the culls or unmarketable varieties. It can be done on rainy days or when other work is slack. For the best results, however, as in any form of marketing, some vinegar should be made each year so that the market may be supplied regularly, and, further, to give the necessary experience which will mean a better quality of vinegar.

As a commercial process we find the making of cider is a regularly conducted manufacturing enterprise in which a considerable amount of capital is needed. Expert knowledge of vinegar making, especially of the "quick process," is essential. On this basis it is not open to the apple grower and is a doubtful venture on a co-operative plan without the help of experts. Where a vinegar factory is established, however, it gives to the orchardist a means to dispose of his cull apples.

Considering the process as it can be carried on on the farm, there are a number of distinct steps, all of which are important. The first step is to prepare for the work. Get a good machine, as it will pay for itself in the added extract of juice. A good machine need not cost more than $25 and may be had for less. Casks must be obtained and sterilized with live steam or sulphur fumes, washed thoroughly, and kept in a convenient place where they will not dry. It is best as well to have the convenience of running water to wash the apples if dirty and to clean up the machine occasionally. Cleanliness should be provided for and insisted upon, as dirty and decaying apples not only give undesirable flavors, but the bacteria and molds feed upon the sugar in the cider and greatly reduce the strength of the vinegar. This is one reason why a rainy day is a good time for cider making, as dust and flies are less and molds are not so abundantly "planted" in the cider.

The next step is the grinding and pressing and is very simple. With an efficient machine the cider is quickly ready for the casks.

Then follows the first fermentation, which very frequently is not properly managed, and poor vinegar results. The casks should be filled only two-thirds full, the bung left open but screened with cheesecloth or lightly fitted with a plug of cotton to admit air. Compressed yeast generally should be added, at the rate of one cake to each five gallons, first mixing the yeast in lukewarm water. If the cask is then placed in a warm place, at least sixty degrees--seventy degrees or more being better--we have the three requirements of proper fermentation, namely, air, warmth and yeast. This will give rapid fermentation, which will reduce the loss of sugars to a minimum. This fermentation should be allowed to go on until completed. If vinegar starts to form it will usually leave a residue of sugar and give a weaker vinegar. It will require from two weeks to a year to change all the sugars into alcohol, depending upon the management of the work. When finished the clear juice is "racked" or siphoned into a clean cask, through a straining cloth to insure the removal of all pomace or sediment.

Then follows the fermentation to produce the acetic acid and finish the vinegar. A "starter" of "mother" can be used, but it is best to take out a gallon or more of the cider when "racking" and add a pint to a quart of a good grade cider vinegar. Let it stand in a warm place, well covered with cheesecloth, and in from four to ten days a granular, brownish cake should begin to form. This starter can then be put directly into the casks, a pint or more to each cask. If the starter develops a white, slimy coat, throw it out and start again. For all of this second stage of fermentation follow the same plan as at first. Fill the barrels not over two-thirds full, use a cotton plug or cheesecloth screen at the bung and keep at a warm temperature. The essentials again are air and warmth, with a good vinegar starter. Under these conditions the vinegar may be ready in from two to ten months. If the usual plan of "natural" fermentation is followed, and the cask is kept at a low temperature, it may be three years before the vinegar is ready.

When the vinegar seems to be completed, send a sample to the State Dairy and Food Commission at the Capitol for analysis. If they say it is completed, "rack" off and strain again into clean barrels, this time filling full and driving in the bung. This will prevent loss from evaporation, and the vinegar can be sold at any time. The state law requires that cider vinegars sold in the state measure up to a certain standard--namely, four per cent. of acetic acid, 1.6 grams per 100 cc. of solids, and .25 grams per 100 cc. of ash.

So much for vinegar making in general. For Minnesota conditions little is known about the definite behavior of any apple varieties. This has led to the study of vinegar making as a problem for the Experiment Station. The Division of Horticulture is carrying on variety tests to determine the yields of juice at different stages of maturity, the efficiency of types of presses, labor costs per gallon, and the production of vinegar from each variety to determine its value. The Division of Agricultural Chemistry makes analyses of the sweet cider to determine the composition and vinegar prospects, and also analyzes the vinegars at various stages. The work has been carried on for two seasons and is showing some interesting facts. These must, however, be checked with further work before definite statements can be published.

As to machines, our results show that the press with press cloths will outyield nearly two to one the press with the barrel or drum. However, a strong grain sack used to catch the pomace and used to confine it in the drum will give a very satisfactory yield, but it requires a considerable amount of labor to do this.

As to labor costs per gallon, we have as yet no definite figures except that one man can grind and press a minimum of eight to nine gallons an hour. Two men can raise the output to at least thirteen gallons. At 25 cents per hour the cost per gallon on this basis varies between two and four cents. As the apples are of little value, and the labor generally "rainy day" labor, this seems to give an inexpensive product.

Our vinegars are as yet incomplete. The run of 1914 was very limited and of necessity stored in a cold cellar. It now tests two per cent. acetic acid, so is only half finished.

As to variety yields, the results of the work of two seasons compare very closely and show generally that there is a variation from a minimum of a scant two gallons up to more than a pint over three gallons from forty pounds of each variety. The forty-pound quantity is taken as representative of the bushel by measure. The varieties leading cider production are--the Hibernal and Wealthy, which generally have given us about three gallons per forty pounds, the Duchess and Patten running slightly lower in cider yield. The Longfield, Lowland Raspberry, Charlamoff and Whitney rank in a third group, according to our trials. This does not mean, however, that those in the latter group are not usable, as the Charlamoff and Whitney are among the highest in sugar content. These figures are greatly modified if the apples have been in storage or are over-ripe.

The chemical analyses of the ciders show that, in general, Minnesota apples do not contain relatively high percentages of sugars. This varies with the season and increases with maturity. The highest total sugar content in ripe apples has been found in the Charlamoff at 9.25 per cent., followed in order by Whitney, 9.08 per cent., Wealthy 8.81 per cent., Duchess 8.60 per cent., Patten 8.21 per cent., Hibernal 7.85 per cent., and Longfield at 7.17 per cent. The significance of these figures is seen when the statement is made that it usually takes two per cent. sugars to make one per cent. of acetic acid. With the majority of our apples we must work carefully, or the vinegar will not meet the state standard of four per cent. acetic acid. This is further substantiated by the report of the State Dairy and Food Commission that the vinegar samples sent to them rarely come up to the standard.

From the data as we now have it we cannot draw definite conclusions, but in general it is safe to say that the making of vinegar from Minnesota apples is done on a close margin. This will mean careful work to get the most out of the fermentation, the use of yeast, warm cellars or store rooms and proper management of the casks as to filling and the entrance of air. The work is not expensive. There is a good demand for really good vinegar, and a market is provided for fruit which could not readily be sold in any other form.

A Summer in Our Garden.

MRS. GERTRUDE ELLIS SKINNER, AUSTIN.

Summer in our garden begins with the arrival of the first seed catalogue in January, and closes the day before its arrival the next January. We may be short on flowers in our garden, but we are long on seed catalogues in our library. We do not believe in catalogue houses excepting seed catalogues. We find them more marvelous than the Arabian Nights, more imaginative than Baron Manchausen, and more alluring than a circus poster. We care not who steals the Mona Lisa so long as Salzer sends us pictures of his cabbages. The art gallery of the Louvre may be robbed of its masterpiece without awakening a pang in our breasts, if Dreer will only send us the pictures of those roses that bloom in the paint-shops of Philadelphia. Morgan may purchase the choicest collections of paintings in Europe and hide them from the public in his New York mansion, if May will send us pictures of watermelons, such as were never imagined by Raphael, Michael Angelo or Correggio.

While the world watches the struggle for the ownership of some great railway system, the control of some big trust, the development of some enormous enterprise, we watch for the arrival of the seed catalogue to see which artist can get the most cabbages in a field, the most melons on a cart, or make the corn look most like the big trees of Yosemite. Don't talk to us of the pleasures of bridge whist, it is not to be compared with the seed catalogue habit.

In the seed catalogue we mark all the things we are going to buy, we mark all the new things. There is the wonderberry, sweeter than the blueberry, with the fragrance of the pineapple and the lusciousness of the strawberry! We mark the Himalaya-berry--which grows thirty feet, sometimes sixty feet in a single season. Why, one catalogue told of a man who picked 3,833-1/2 pounds of berries from a single vine, beside what his children ate. Our Himalaya vine grew four inches the first season and died the first winter. We were glad it did. We did not want such a monster running over our garden. We wanted to raise other things.

But we did not lose faith in our catalogues. We believe what they say just as the small boy believes he will see a lion eat a man at the circus, because the billboard pictures him doing it.

If we ordered all the seeds we mark in the catalogue in January, we would require a township for a garden, a Rockefeller to finance it and an army to hoe it. We did not understand the purpose of a catalogue for a long time. A catalogue is a stimulus. It's like an oyster cocktail before a dinner, a Scotch high-ball before the banquet and the singing before the sermon. Salzer knows no one ever raised such a crop of cabbages as he pictures or the world would be drowned in sauer kraut. If the Himalaya-berry bore as the catalogues say it does we should all be buried in jam. You horticulturists never expect to raise such an apple as Lindsay describes; if you did, they would be more valuable than the golden apples of Hesperides.

But when we get a catalogue we just naturally dream that what we shall raise will not only be as good but will excel the pictures. Alas, of such stuff are dreams made! We could not do our gardening without catalogues, but they are not true to life as we find it in our garden. We never got a catalogue that showed the striped bug on the cucumber, the slug on the rose bush, the louse on the aster, the cut worm on the phlox, the black bug on the syringa, the thousand and one pests, including the great American hen, the queen of the barnyard, but the Goth and vandal of the garden.

But the best part of summer in our garden is the work we do in winter. Then it is that our garden is most beautiful, for we work in the garden of imagination, where drouth does not blight, nor storms devastate, where the worm never cuts nor the bugs destroy. No dog ever uproots in the garden of imagination, nor doth the hen scratch. This is the perfect garden. Our golden glow blossoms in all of its auriferous splendor, the Oriental poppy is a barbaric blaze of glory, our roses are as fair as the tints of Aurora, the larkspur vies with the azure of heaven, the gladioli are like a galaxy of butterflies and our lilies like those which put Solomon in the shade. Every flower is in its proper place to make harmony complete. There is not a jarring note of color in our garden in the winter time.

Then comes the spring in our garden, a time of faith, vigilance and hard work. Faith that the seed will grow, vigilance that it is planted deep enough and has the right conditions in which to grow. Vigilance against frost, weeds and insects. Planting, sowing, hoeing, transplanting, coaxing, hoping, expecting, working--we never do half that we planned to do in the springtime--there are not enough days, and the days we have are too short.

Then comes summer, real summer in our garden. Then flowers begin to bloom, and our friends tell us they are lovely. But we see the flaws and errors. We feel almost guilty to have our garden praised, so many glaring faults and shortcomings has it. The color scheme is wrong, there are false notes here and there. There are tall plants where short plants should be. There are spaces and breaks and again spots over-crowded. We water and hoe, train vines, prop plants, and kill the bugs, but we know the weak spots in our garden and vow that next summer we shall remedy every mistake.

Then "summer in our garden" has an autumn. The garden is never so beautiful as when the first frost strikes it. Pillow-cases, sheets, shawls, aprons, coats and newspapers may for a brief time hold at bay the frost king, but he soon laughs at our efforts, crawls under the edges of the unsightly garments with which we protect our flowers, nips their petals, wilts their stems and blackens their leaves. We find them some morning hopelessly frozen. But the earth has ceased to give forth its aroma, the birds are winging southward, the waters of the brook run clear and cold, and the voice of the last cricket sounds lonesome in the land. We say to nature, "Work your will with our garden; the summer is over, and we are ready to plan for another season."

And what have we learned from the "summer in our garden?" That no one can be happy in his garden unless he works for the joy of the working. He who loves his work loves nature. To him his garden is a great cathedral, boundless as his wonder, a place of worship. Above him the dome ever changing in color and design, beautiful in sunshine or storm and thrice beautiful when studded with the eternal lamps of night. The walls are the trees, the vines and the shrubs, waving in the distant horizon and flinging their branches on the sky line, or close at hand where we hear the voice of the wind among the leaves.

A wondrous floor is the garden's cathedral of emerald green in the summer, sprinkled with flowers, of ermine whiteness in the winter, sparkling with the diamonds of frost. Its choir is the winds, the singing birds and the hum of insects. Its builder and maker is God. Man goeth to his garden in the springtime, and, behold, all is mystery. There is the mystery of life about him, in the flowing sap in the trees, the springing of the green grass, the awakening of the insect world, the hatching of the worm from the egg, the changing of the worm into the butterfly.

The seed the gardener holds in his hand is a mystery. He knows what it will produce, but why one phlox seed will produce a red blossom and another a white is to him a miracle. He wonders at the prodigality of nature. In her economy, what is one or ten thousand seeds! She scatters them with lavish hand from ragweed, thistle or oak. If man could make but the single seed of the ragweed, he could make a world. The distance between a pansy and a planet is no greater than between man and a pansy. The gardener sees the same infinite care bestowed upon the lowest as upon the highest form of life, and he wonders at it. He looks into the face of a flower, scans the butterfly and notes the toadstool and sees that each is wonderful.

From the time he enters his garden in the springtime until he leaves it in the autumn, he will find a place and a time to worship in his cathedral. He enters it with the seed in his hand in the spring, and as he rakes away the ripened plants in the autumn he finds something still of the mystery of life. A puff-ball is before him, and he muses on its forming. The little puff-ball stands at one end of the scale of life and he, man, at the other, "close to the realm where angels have their birth, just on the boundary of the spirit land." From the things visible in our garden we learn of the things invisible, and strong the faith of him who kneeling in adoration of the growing plant looks from nature to nature's God and finds the peace which passeth understanding.

Bringing the Producer and Consumer Together.

R. S. MACKINTOSH, HORTICULTURAL SPECIALIST, AGRICULTURAL EXTENSION DIVISION, UNIVERSITY FARM, ST. PAUL.

The introduction of Mr. Producer to Mr. Consumer directly, and not by proxy, is the chief desire of the present time. The fact remains, however, that in the vast majority of cases Messrs. Proxy & Co. is brought in and breaks up the direct personal contact. The development of complex marketing means specialization and in a large degree sets it apart from production. When specialization becomes dominant, then standardization becomes necessary. Each producer is unable to keep in touch with all such movements and consequently finds it hard to keep abreast of the times. In this age of rapid transit, specialization, scientific discoveries, and the improvements resulting therefrom, seem somewhat out of place when compared with our present marketing systems. This does not mean that our marketing is entirely out of joint, but it does mean that there is something the matter or so many would not be discussing it. The consumer hears what the producer received, the producer hears what the consumer paid, and then somebody gets to thinking and talking. Discussions lead to investigations, and investigations lead to conferences. Just lately a large conference was held in Chicago, and certain plans were formulated to attempt to unravel some of the evils that exist in marketing. So much has been said that the U.S. Department of Agriculture has begun certain investigations, and we hope that the workers will find ways to solve some of the troubles in a logical and, we hope, sane way.

A year ago your committee on marketing reported that there were certain things needed, and an ideal system was suggested to correct these faults. One of the basic factors emphasized was standardization. Another committee reported on changes needed in the statutes regarding the weight of a bushel of apples. Congress has enacted a law which specifies the size of a barrel for apples. New York, Massachusetts and other states have enacted grading laws. Some states require that the fruit be free of certain insect and disease injuries. Several states have laws regulating commission men. Most states have laws which do not allow the sale of food products that are decayed. These are all steps toward the standardization that is so necessary. In other words, the several laws have been passed to correct some of the troubles which have come up when so many hands handle the products. These laws were not needed in olden times when the consumer went directly to the producer's door and there bargained for his wares.

Minnesota is a state noted for co-operative enterprises. There are over two thousand such organizations doing more than $60,000,000.00 worth of business yearly. We know full well the value of the co-operative creameries and how butter has been brought up to a high standard. As citizens, we rejoice; as horticulturists, and citizens as well, we want our products to stand high in the estimation of others. I was much pained this summer while discussing the marketing of apples with several commission men to hear them say that they did not like to take local shipments. The reason was that the goods were usually below grade, and the returns did not always please the growers. It is evident that we must improve our methods in ways which will remove this stigma. Many of the commission men try to induce good grading and packing. They like to handle "top notch" goods, for it is cheaper to handle goods that move quickly than those that are a drag and require too much handling. The Agricultural Extension Division of the College of Agriculture is organized to give help, where help is needed, along a large number of agricultural lines.

Realizing these facts, we have been trying to get the ear of the producer and consumer in an effort to get them to do certain things. On the one hand, we want to have good varieties, and to help this lectures and demonstrations are given in the care of the orchard, pruning, spraying, thinning, picking, grading, packing and marketing. On the other hand we want more people to eat Minnesota apples. It is a campaign of education and publicity.

If one wishes to sell anything, he finds that he must advertise. He must advertise so much and in so many ways that people cannot help buying his wares. There are certain widely advertised articles that you must know, whether you are interested or not. One of these runs along the highways so often that you are shaken, even against your will, into consciousness of its existence, so that you cannot get along without having one, or at least seeing one. The latest edition seems to have put on feathers in the form of a white dove of peace. May it succeed. Advertising Minnesota apples has been attempted this past year.

It was found necessary to provide a standard by which the buyer and seller could agree on apple grades. After consulting several persons, it was decided to adopt the following grades:

"A" Grade.--Hand picked, normal shape, good color (at least one-third colored), free from dirt, disease and insect injuries, and well packed. Limit of defects allowed: Not more than 10% of all kinds nor 5% of any one kind.

"B" Grade.--Hand picked, practically normal shape, practically free from dirt, disease and insect injuries, and properly packed. Limit of defects allowed: Not more than 15% of all nor 5% of any one kind.

Only one variety and grade should be put in a package. In the grade specifications given, normal shape refers to the general form of well-grown specimens of the variety in question. For instance: The Wealthy is regular in outline and nearly round, while the Hibernal is somewhat flat and often irregular. In like manner the color must be typical of the variety, whether green, yellow or red. Red apples usually sell better than green or yellow varieties, although the quality may be even poorer. Fruit showing insect or disease injuries cannot be classed as well grown. Grading to size is very important. This is not specified because it depends upon the variety and season. Only apples above a selected minimum size, as 2-1/2 inches, the diameter at right angles to stem, should be placed in the same package. Defects refer to apples not up to grade in size, color or shape and having bruises, punctures, disease or insect injuries.

_Fancy._--For persons having extra choice fruit, a fancy grade can be used. Well-grown specimens, hand picked, of normal shape, at least two-thirds colored, free from dirt, diseases and insect injuries and properly packed. Not more than 5% of combined defects allowed, of which only 2% can be of the same kind.

Hundreds of letters were sent to persons in the state, telling them that we would maintain an information bureau or clearing house to help them in finding markets for their apples. Several growers replied, and the names of persons who were anxious to buy apples were given them. Nine farmers' clubs asked for information as to where Minnesota apples could be bought. This is a beginning, and it shows that there is need for some sort of an organization that can find out where apples are and who wants them. The intention has not been to interfere with the regular trade routes, but to give the growers information as to who wants apples. As you will notice, this does not bring the producer directly to the door of the consumer. There must be some one to act as a go-between in most cases.

It was just stated that Minnesota is a state having a very large number of co-operative business organizations. Among these are about two hundred live stock shipping associations having a very simple form of organization. A number of persons in a community, having considerable stock to ship, come together, adopt a simple set of by-laws which provide for the selection of a manager, his compensation--usually a certain percentage on the gross receipts--and a small amount for losses which may occur. No capital stock is required--only the actual living stock. The manager ships the stock at certain times, and when the returns come in deducts the amounts provided for expenses and then returns to each shipper his proportionate amount. In this way the stock is sold at the terminal yards the same day and with other stock from many sections. It is a very simple, satisfactory way of marketing.

The more I study and think of our apple situation, the more I am of the opinion that a very large part of our fruit could be marketed in a similar way. Some of our La Crescent friends ship together in carlots successfully. Why not others? This is the very best way to begin co-operation in a successful way. As Mr. Collingwood says: "Co-operation, like charity, should begin at home and be well nurtured." In other words, begin to co-operate at home in a small way and let the future large organizations take care of themselves.

To be specific, let the growers in a community meet and form a fruit-shipping association with by-laws patterned after the successful stock-shipping associations. Then the fruit should be well grown, picked in time, graded thoroughly and honestly packed and marked. Haul at once to car. The manager will take charge and ship as he thinks best. Each package must have the customary identification marks, so the manager can keep an accurate record of all transactions. If, by chance, trouble comes up, the shippers can pool their interests, and send a representative to find out the trouble. Thus they can do together what each cannot do alone. Even this does not bring the consumers directly in contact with the producers. It is, however, a step nearer.

The public auctions started in New York this season seem to have been successful, and it may mean an innovation which will improve marketing conditions in general. These auctions are held under the recently formed Department of Foods and Markets. The Department has contracted with a large auction company which advances the freight, conducts the sales, guarantees the accounts, and advances the net returns for the goods daily. The producer is able to get returns within two days. The total cost is 5% on the gross sales; 3% for the auction company and 2% for the Department of Markets for the advertising and for other overhead expenses. Posters have been issued to advertise New York State apples. As this Department has been working only for a short time, it is too early to tell whether it is a success in every way.

We earnestly ask your co-operation in trying to solve the question of marketing Minnesota apples. All interested must assist in this important subject.

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WORLD'S TALLEST TREES.--The tallest trees are the Australian eucalyptus, which attain a height of 480 feet.

GARDEN HELPS

Conducted by Minnesota Garden Flower Society

Edited by MRS. E. W. GOULD, 2644 Humboldt Avenue So.

Minneapolis.

HARDY CHRYSANTHEMUMS.