204 traj^sactio:n's of the Illinois 



You must have the soil of such a character that it will hold abundant moisture , 

 without holding water, and be rich in manures. 



You must have the roots on the surface where they can have the full benefit of the 

 gases of the atmosphere. 



You must keep the surface absolutelj^ dark, and as cool as possible. 



Now, my friends, I should like to stop here; for in these four gi-and divisions He 

 all the law and all the prophets of success. There are, to be sure, hundreds of other 

 things principles, but they rather belong to that other matter to which, as you know, 

 in fruit-growing I claim the immortal honor of the fii'St discovery, namely, common 

 sense. If, however, you will print these four leading maxims on a card and nail them 

 up in your orchard, where even through your sleep you will scarcely lose sight of 

 them, I will go a little further into these common sense aifairs. 



It must be manifest to you that very rarely do the common modes of fioiit-culture 

 accord with the main principles which I have given. The trees grow any way they 

 choose, or ai-e ''trimmed" after somebody's system without any regard to the 

 advantage of light to the leaves. The earth is as hard as a brick, and soon dries out. 

 The trees are set A\ide apart, so that the sun dries and heats the ground, and the 

 surface is kept so bare of shade that the little rootlets have to go down away from the 

 light to where there are few gases to act on the manure, and the funiace heat will 

 almost allow you to fry a beefsteak, and of course evaporates an enormous amount of 

 moisture which would be of immense benefit to the crop. 



Now I see what you are thinking about. You imagine I say rather than all this, 

 put the orchard in grass. But I do not say that, mind you, unless it will accord A\ith 

 va^ iovis ^x^^i first principles . Sometimes — very often — it will do this; sometimes not. 

 That is for common sense to decide. 



If the ground is heavy, and water does not pass away freely, grass would be bad. 

 I could scarcely forgive anj' one who would put an orchard in such a place at all, but 

 if in addition he put grass on its surface, I am sure that would be the unpardonable 

 sin. If you want to see yellow trees in grass, that will be the place to find them. 

 Then, again, there are some grasses, like blue grass, which in some lands otherwise 

 favorable, will make a hard impervious crust, which it takes days for water to get 

 through. In short, anything that will keep water from running away rapidly is a 

 sin against the first great principle, and must be avoided. In such soils you must 

 have orchard gi'ass, sweet vernal grass, or any tussocky thing that Avill not defeat your 

 one great object. In all these matters you musi use common sense. Grass, remember, 

 is of no use only as it serves to darken and cool the surface, and encourage the roots 

 to keep near the air. If it brings on some other evil — if it soddens your soil, or 

 impoverishes the trees, as in some half starved lands it may — or if you can cool and 

 darken the surface in some better way, avoid grass by all means. 



Sometimes you can do much better than grass in various ways. Some soils are so 

 rich that you can plant them, without danger of starvation, so close that their own 

 branches will make a grateful shade for the roots, which will then hover very near the 

 surface. At other times you can cut weeds, briars, or trash from the hedges, fence 

 rows and swamps, and strew on the ground between the trees. It matters not, gen- 

 tlemen, what you do, only give plenty of shade to the roots, plenty of food, plenty 

 of vapor, plenty of oxydizing gases, and you have mastered the alphabet of fruit- 

 growing, and your success will be chiefly in the common sense you apply to it. 



