STATK IIoRTrCULTlFIAL SOCrRTY. 203 



need do no more than just pi'esent it as a I'aet to j'ou. But though the roots hate light, 

 they have a strong aflection for tlie gases of the atmosphere, and invariably keep as 

 near the surface as it is possible to get, without coming into contact -with light. To 

 prove tnis you have only to lay a flat stone on the surface of the ground under a 

 vigorous growing tree, and lift it a year afterwards. You will tind the surface 

 covereil with a dense net-work of roots, the hke of which you will not find anywhere 

 else about the surface under that tree. We who live near old towns, and who walk 

 about witli our eyes open, see tliis continually when pavements under old trees are 

 taken up . 



Besides this air and darkness, there is one more thing necessary as a preliminary to 

 plant nutrition. This has been called water, but this is a mistake. Water, roots do 

 not like; in water they soon die. It is rather what an intelligent friend of mine 

 delights to term atmospheric humidity, \>ut which we will simply call damp air; the 

 roots permeate the air spaces through tlie little masses of earth, and draw all their 

 food into their system in the shape of gaseous vapor. Thus we have a principle 

 without which success in fruit growing will only be comi)arative, namely, that we 

 must Jceej) the roots alwai/s in darl-ness, hut i/et ac near to the atmosphere and to vapor as 

 possible. 



I know some will say that this position is not altogether sound, lor they have found 

 roots ever so many feet below the surface of the ground, which is quite true; but the 

 roots they mean are not the roots I mean. What tliey mean are the woody structures 

 of the trees — the analogues under ground, of the woody branches above ground — 

 what I mean are the fibres which are borne from these woody roots every year, and 

 die every year, just as t?ie leaves do above them, though not at the same time. 



One of the most prevalent errors in fruit growing is the belief that a warm soil is 

 as necessary as a warm atmosphere to the growth of the tree. If it were possible for 

 the soil in your orchards to be frozen thi'ee feet thick, and to stay frozen in that way 

 throughout the summer: yet if the atmosphei'e were to range from .o.j" to 90o as it 

 does now, I think the trees would grow, and bloom, and bear fruit nearly as well — not 

 perhaps quite as well, because there is some loss of heat when the little fibres, by the 

 aid of their own internal \^ armth, have to thaw the solid ice into vapor before they 

 can make use of the moisture, and it is no doubt some saving to have all this ready 

 done for them; but I said nearly as well, because I have seen grapes forced in vineries 

 where the roots were all outside and frozen solid, and the tops in a summer tempera- 

 ture inside growing and blooming as if everything accorded with the best popular 

 notions of right or wrong. Now what we call a cold soil is usually a wet soil, and that 

 is injurious; not because it is cold, but because it has ivater and not vapor, as it should 

 have; and we make the very grave mistake of attributing to a want of heat what is 

 really the fault of a superabundance of water. Our own common sense may tell us 

 that this is wrong; for we know that heat evaporates moisture, and we never have 

 any to spare in our hot summers to lose in this way. All the evaporation we want is 

 the evaporation from the healthy leaf surfaces. 



Now I am come to a point when 1 may try to impress you with my idea of the main 

 principles of fruit cvlture. 



You must have the trees so trained that every leaf shall have the best possible chance 

 to get the full benefit of the light. 



