114 City Home* on Country Lanes 



Burbank's garden. I do not know how his latest straw- 

 berry will taste when you get it through the channels 

 of commerce, but if you should taste it as it comes from 

 the vine, sweet with California sunshine, you would think 

 a poem on the spot. 



I did not seek to draw out my distinguished host on 

 the subject of intensive poultry culture and other 

 economic hopes of little landing not strictly limited to 

 the use of the soil. I was content to know that he be- 

 lieves the garden will do its generous share for the fam- 

 ily table, and, from the surplus of berries, vegetables 

 and flowers, contribute to the necessary cash income. 

 But I was delighted to discover that his home dairy 

 consists of two beautiful Saanen goats. When I told 

 him I was an enthusiast on the future of the milch goat, 

 he said: "So am I," and proceeded to describe the su- 

 periority of goat's milk over that of cows. 



Mr. Burbank believes in the new life of the land as 

 the solution of our national social problem — the prob- 

 lem of accommodating a vast increase in our citizenship 

 in a higher degree of average comfort than that which 

 now prevails. He says: "It is the way to double our 

 population." 



No phase of Mr. Burbank's philosophy has chal- 

 lenged public opinion more sharply than that part 

 which is embodied in his book, "The Training of the 

 Human Plant." He is a lover of children, as of flowers 

 and plants and birds, and he is very deeply concerned 

 for the future of the American child. In the abnormal 

 growth of cities lie reads a deep menace to the welfare 

 of coining generations. He says: 



"Every child should have mudpies, grasshoppers, 



