No. 7. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE. 657 



worth of potash, and says three times ten is forty. I do not be- 

 lieve in feeding his pocketbook quite so liberally as that, at the 

 same time I feed my trees all they will take up; 1,200 to 1,500 pounds 

 ground bone, 400 to 500 pounds of muriate of potash, and 200 pounds 

 of nitrate of soda per acre annually, it pays me to use. You want 

 that tree to make a good return to you, so feed it well; don't be 

 stingy with it; and, after all, it is "the other fellow" who pays the 

 bills in the long run. You simply advance it; and the more you in- 

 telligently spend on it, the more you will get back later on. 



Another thing we are up against is the San Jos6 Scale. I got 

 nearly mobbed in Western New York a few years ago for saying 

 that I believed it was a blessing. But I think it has caused many 

 of us to wake up. ^Ve were too much in the habit of letting our 

 orchards alone, and it came along, and made us look after our or- 

 chards, or lose them. Thousands of orchards got no attention what- 

 ever until the time of fruiting came, when they went in to pick the 

 fruit, but the scale made it necessary to give them at least some 

 attention. The little boy upon being asked whether he knew the 

 difference between the (|uick and the dead, said ''Yes; those who got 

 out of tlie way of the automobiles were the quick; those who didn't 

 were the dead." So it is with the San Jos^ Scale; if we are not 

 quick to look after it, our trees will be dead; while fighting the scale, 

 which we must or lose our orchards, we have also learned to feed 

 and prune and cultivate our orchards a little better, and they are 

 showing their gratitude for the attention. Thousands of trees died 

 during the earlier years of the scale, but we have become better ac- 

 quainted with it, and have learned how to control it, so that instead 

 of a curse, it has proven to be a blessing in disguise. It has made 

 us acquainted with our trees, and when you become acquainted with 

 a good thing, you usually learn to love it. When you become bet- 

 ter acquainted with people, you love them better. The meanest 

 "critter" you have in your neighborhood — I hope you haven't many 

 of these, but you will find some in almost every other community — 

 has some good traits, if you come to study them, and you must love 

 them for these traits while forgetting all others as much as you 

 can. I had occasion, not so long ago, to drive up the mountain, to 

 see an orchard, so I hitched up old Blossom and started out. Half 

 way up the mountain, we came across the biggest and the meanest 

 looking dog I ever saw; Blossom hesitated, and I didn't like his 

 looks, but there was nothing to do, but to face him; so I urged 

 Blossom on, and said to the dog, "Why, good morning, doggy; this 

 is a pleasant morning for you and me to be taking a trip up the 

 mountain," and that dog looked brighter and better for the kind 

 word. I don't know how much better he really was, but he looked 

 better just for those few kind words. I like good and sweet things 

 — most men do — men, women, dogs, flowers, anything that is good 

 and true, and its all about if we but open our eyes. So in this 

 matter of the San Jos(^ Scale; it forces us to inspect every indi- 

 vidual tree, and become acquainted with it, and as we become ac- 

 quainted with it, we become attached to it and want to care for 

 and improve it in every way possible. Any spray that we use to 

 kill scale, either lime and sulphur, or anything else, but especially 

 with the lime and sulphur, we also get rid of the fungous growths, 



