California Agriculturist and Live Stock Journal. 



to be not more than half grown, the 

 branches broken by the weight, and the 

 crop almost a total loss for want of a 

 market. A little time spent in jiruning 

 the trees and thinning the young fruit 

 would have saved the trees and caused 

 the fruit to grow to perfection. Such is 

 economy as practiced by some of Cali- 

 ifornia's farmers. This is probably one 

 of the main reasons why there is so 

 much inferior fruit in the State, and it 

 is this class of orchardmen who talk 

 about digging up the trees and sowing 

 the gi'ound to wheat. If the trees are 

 not of the right kind, it is an easy mat- 

 ter to graft them. If they are too full 

 of blossoms in the spring, the fruit buds 

 should be thinned out. Formerly the 

 culled or inferior fruit could be dried or 

 canned. Not so now. The State is sup- 

 plied with good fruit, and the man who 

 spends his time paring small apples or 

 scrawny peaches, and th-ies them in the 

 siin, will find his time wasted. There is 

 a market for fancy fruit for shipment, 

 for local consumption and for various 

 purposes, but there is no' provision for 

 an inferior qualitj'. 



Fig and Almond Culture. 



The following from the Bural Xew 

 Yorker we give place to as encouraging 

 the culture of almonds: 



The cultivation of the various fruits 

 adapted to the climate of the Northern 

 States have been extended until our mar- 

 kets are fully supplied with all. very few, 

 if any, being imported. But the same 

 cannot be said of the Southern States, 

 for although the climate seems to be es- 

 pecially adajjted to the culture of the fig, 

 almond, orange, lemon and other trop- 

 ical fruits, still we look in the main to 

 foreign countries for a supply. 



Why should we import millions of dol- 

 lars worth of figs and almonds while the 

 Southern States could readily supply our 

 markets? Is it for the want of a j^roper 

 knowledge of their culture and lack of 

 energy, or scarcity of labor? Of course, 

 it is not for us up here in the North to 

 answer these questions, as apples, peach- 

 es, pears and similar fruits mainly occu- 

 py our attention. But it does seem to 

 us that the people of the Southern States 

 ought to be able to supply us siich easily 

 raised fruits as figs and almonds as 

 cheaply as they can be bought abroad, 

 counting in the cost of exchange, freight, 

 insurance and other unavoidable ex- 

 penses. 



Some of the varieties of the almond 

 succeed as far north as the most hardy 

 sorts of peach, but these are rather in- 

 ferior; besides, there is really no cer- 

 tainty of obtaining a crop. The finest 

 sorts, like the long hard-shelled and la- 

 dies' thin-shelled, are rather tender, and 

 can only be depended on in a warmer 

 climate, say North Carolina and south- 

 ward. 



These varieties are as readily propa- 

 gated as the peach, and the trees are not 

 only quite similar, but are liable to the 

 same diseases and insect enemies. A 

 warm, dry soil is best, and if quite rich, 

 so much the better, not only securing a 

 good crop of fruit, but long life to the 

 trees. 



The finer varieties, such as we have 

 n»med above, may be propagated by 

 budding, upon seedling almond stocks, 

 or upon peach and plum, the latter be- 

 ing preferable in localities where the 

 peach tree borer abounds. The plum 

 stock, however, has a tendency to make 

 the trees somewhat dwarfish in habit, but 

 this is not objectionable so long as the 

 vigor and productiveness of the tree is 

 not impaired by its use. 



When the almond is ripe the flesh or 



pulpy covering of the nut dries and 

 cracks open, permitting the former to 

 drop out. A man who raises aimouds is 

 not obliged to send them forward to mar- 

 ket on a certain day, as with peaches, or 

 lose his crop, but the)' can bo gathered 

 and held for weeks or months if neces- 

 sary, to secure a good price, and this is 

 an advantage which should tend to in- 

 crease their culture, especially in locaU- 

 ties not contiguous to good facilities for 

 reaching the markets in our large cities. 



Semi-Tbopical Fkuits in the Foot- 

 hills. — One can hardly name anything 

 that would not grow to perfection in 

 these foot-hills. We have on our table 

 an olive twig, with several tine olives, 

 fully aipened, a beautiful cluster of or- 

 anges, as large and tine as any we ever 

 saw, and a sprig from a tig-tree, also 

 covered with ripe and luscious fruit. 

 These twigs were all cut from an orchard 

 at Ophir, the 17th day of December, and 

 the fruit on them is as well developed, 

 fully ripened, and highly flavored as any 

 that grows in the tropics. In the same 

 locality is a great variety of fruits and 

 nuts. Among the latter are the English 

 walnut and the pecan, both of which 

 do well. Along with the fruit we have 

 a splendid bouquet of roses, gathered 

 from a garden in Auburn. Oranges, figs, 

 olives and roses, within a week of Christ- 

 mas, are not at all remarkable here, we 

 know ; but we think our Eastern friends 

 could appreciate the climate that pro- 

 duces them, especially when they re- 

 member tnat by climing the Sien'as a 

 short distance, and without going out of 

 Placer county, we can find ice six inches 

 thick and snow four feet deep. — Ftacer 

 Argus. 



The People at Eiveeside evidently 

 mean to take advantage of all their 

 tropical resources. There are no less 

 than GO,OUO orange trees from three to 

 eight j'ears old, growing within the lim- 

 its of that colony. There are also sev- 

 eral thousand lemon and lime trees, 

 some of which have already come into 

 bearing. In all portions of Southern 

 California the orange is cultivated as a 

 standard market fruit. It should not be 

 longer neglected in any portion of the 

 state below the snow belt. 



Packing Okanges. — S. F. Gard, in 

 the Florida Af/riculturisl, says : 



A word as to packing. The keeping 

 qualities of the orange are much affected 

 by the manner of handling in packing 

 the fruit, and of the handling of the 

 package after being packed, as well as 

 by the condition of the barrel or box, in 

 respect to fitness for use. 



The fewer times the orange is picked 

 up and laid down the better it will keep. 

 The aim, therefore, of the orange-grower, 

 should be to handle his fruit as little as 

 possible, and as carefully as possible. 

 After the oranges are taken from the tree 

 they should be laid under cover, on a 

 floor high enough above the ground, with 

 the planks far enough apart to admit a 

 free circulation of air, and should remain 

 there at least twenty-four hours to sweat 

 and shrink, as they always do, before 

 they are packed. This gives time also 

 for any bruise or damage caused by pick- 

 ing to show itself. All damaged ones, 

 no matter how slight the damage, should 

 be laid aside. Only sound ones should 

 be packed. The packing should be done 

 in the orchard, to prevent bruising the 

 fruit by handling it in a loose condition 

 too often. After the fruit is packed the 

 packages should be handled \rith care. 

 It will pay in the end. Taking all the 

 circumstances together that bear upon 

 the keeping qualities of the orange, as 



well as the price of the box or barrel, 

 preference must be given to the box in 

 packing. The most convenient size and 

 shape is that of the common lemon box, 

 holding about one-half barrel. 



A THANKSaiVING 



STORY. 



As Told by "Old Dave." 



DY NELL VAN. 



It was in a miner's cabin on the North 

 Fork one bleak November night, that old 

 Dave gave the Are a punch, and sung 

 out: "By hokey, boys, if this ain't the 

 last Thursday in November and Thanks- 

 giving in old New England, as sure as 

 I'm alive." 



"That's so," said one. "Come on," 

 said another, "let's celebrate." 



"Well," said old Dave, "I'm willin'. 

 Just name your play and I'm in for it, 

 you bet." 



A tall, freckled-faced youth, who went 

 by the name of Ned, drew near and sug- 

 gested "riddles." Another called for a 

 "yarn, " and it was finally agreed to draw 

 lots for the one to relate a Thanksgiving 

 story, with riddles and something to eat 

 afterwards. Slips of paper were folded 

 and well mixed in a hat, and the longest 

 strip was found m old Dave's hands. A 

 shout went around, for he was called a 

 cute one at spinning yarns. "A thanks- 

 giving story, and a true one, too, do ye 

 say? Well", it's not a few Thanksgiving 

 days that's passed over my head, to be 

 sure; but — yes, there was one I shall 

 never forget. You may like to hear 

 about it. You see, lads, when I was a 

 boy I chanced to be thrown on the world 

 to look after myself: and farmer White, 

 needing a chore-boy, took me in and 

 gave me board and clothes for what I 

 could do, intending to make a farm hand 

 of me, which he did in the course of 

 time. Now it's pretty rough on a young- 

 ster, naturally fond of play as I was, to 

 be set down to hard work ; but it's been 

 the makin of me, that I Jo say. In 

 looking about the world, you'll find that 

 those who raise in life most giuerally 

 have had to tough it in their young days, 

 so it pays in the long run to be stood 

 alone airly in life. 



"Well, farmer White was just setting 

 out in life; had a good farm earned and 

 paid for; a smart young wife, and old 

 aunt Khoda to help see to things in- 

 doors. There was milking, butter and 

 cheese making, pigs and chickens to 

 feed, besides wood and water to fetch, all 

 of which I had a hand in. 'Twas a 

 mighty good home there at the farm for 

 a boy like me— everything regular as 

 clock-work, no youngsters to bother nor 

 hinder, though just aforo I came they 

 had buried a tine boy eight or ten months 

 old, which well-nigh broke their hearts. 

 Thanksgivin' time came around with its 

 usual preparations. No end to the chop- 

 pin' of mince-meat and apples, and pies 

 enough baked to provision an army. 

 Such stacks of good things as filled the 

 buttery shelves it fairly makes my mouth 

 water to think on. 



"Of course there was to be a family 

 "atherin", for uncles, aunts and eonsins 

 can always be found ready to go to a 

 Thanksgivin' feast. Tnrkeys and chick- 

 ens were killed and stufted, and all the 

 good things ready the day afore hand, 

 so that all hands could go to meetin' in 

 the forenoon. For what was Thanks- 

 givin' without the sermon to start in up- 

 on? Then everybody, decked out in 

 their Sunday go-to-meetin' rig, went 

 home for a grand feast and a good time 

 generally. Some of yon fellows here 



know all about that part of it, I'll war- 

 rant. How many of you here are Yan- 

 kee born? Only three besides Ned? 

 Well, I vow, I thought more on you 

 knew what Thanksgivin' meant. How- 

 somever, the day wore on and evenin' 

 twilight found us young folks all sittin' 

 round the fire listeuin' to aunt Ehoda's 

 droll riddles and enigmas. Two on 'em 

 I remember now just as she said 'em, 

 stamping her foot to keep time — a way 

 she had: 'My mammy sent we over to 

 borrow your wimblebow, ironbow, sacri- 

 tybow, wobody, lyricky, and the whirli- 

 gig!" 



"Well, now; that's a good one," shout- 

 ed Ned, rolling backward over the floor. 

 "Say it over again." Dave repeated it 

 gravely, and after some guessing told 

 them it was a spinning wheel and reel. 

 Ned said he knew it all the time. 



"Then," said Dave, "here's another: 

 ' Up and down tnrnigig, such as folks 

 pump with.' Then the laugh went 

 round, and ued suggested a chum. 

 "Y'es, by thunder, " said Dave; "born 

 yankee, every inch on you — six foot at 

 that." 



"But the story, Dave," sung out Ned; 

 "let's have the rest." "By all means, 

 yes," said another. 



"Well," continued Dave, "where was 

 I. Oh, listeuin' to aunt Rhody's rid- 

 dles, when rap, rap, rap, at the door, 

 and before we could open it a little 

 moan. There bad been a fresh fall of 

 snow, and sleighiu' was only tolerable, 

 but the air was crisp and prospects of a 

 freeze. Aunt Rhody up and starts for 

 the door, but I got ahead of her and 

 opened it first, and what do yon think, 

 boys, sat there on the door stone? Why, 

 a big old-fashioned band-box, such as 

 our grand-mothers used to carry their 

 best bonnets in when they went jour- 

 neyin'. 



"What's this?" said aunt Rhody, and 

 j with that the whole crowd came to the 

 I door and we fetched it in front of the 

 tire, whilst some one lit the amdlc. 



"What's the rumpus?" said farmer 

 White, coming in and seeing the big box 

 tied about with a silken string, he 

 whipped out his jackknife and clipped it, 

 when the lid was raised, and there lay a 

 little two-months old baby, on a pile of 

 \ new flannel and soft blankets! Such a 

 time as there was among the women 

 folks. One said one thing and another 

 talked baby talk. Never a word or line 

 came with it, though we searched the box 

 in and out, save the word Frank written 

 and pinned to the dress front. 



"He's come to take the place of the 

 one we lost, mamma," said the farmer, 

 gently patting his wife's cheek, as she 

 sat iu the low rocking chair looking 

 down upon the sleeping babe that lay in 

 her lap. She smiled sadly, as if think- 

 ing of her own white baby gone to its 

 long home, and of the mother who was, 

 perhaps, lost to this little one. "We 

 , \-ill be everything to each other, dar- 

 ling," I heard her say as she raised the 

 tiny face to her Ups. Where can it have 

 \ come from? and Why brought to the 

 farm? were questions quite as puzzling 

 to the grown folks as aunt Rhody's rid- 

 I dies had been to the children. 

 ! When the excitement had died away, 

 and baby was laid sleeping upon the bed, 

 j the young folks had some romping 

 ] games, and then cracked nuts to eat with 

 1 apples and cider, before tackling up 

 , teams to go home. I mind now I tracked 

 I the footprints in the snow to the road- 

 I side where traces of wagon wheels were 

 found, and next da)' the town folks had 

 seen a covered carriage driven through 

 in the direction of the farm, but nothing 

 more could be found out; leastways the 

 boy Uved and was fetched up on the farm 



