14 THE NEW HORTICULTURE 



by me drawing out some fine specimens, while I had no suc- 

 cess at all, with legs dangling over the wharf's edge I inched 

 along towards him to try and share his luck. The old man 

 took it very kindly, and gave me a pleasant "good morning," 

 from which we soon got well acquainted, and it needed but 

 little questioning to draw him out. While proud of his skill as 

 a fisherman, by which he then made his living, he soon let me 

 know that he was originally cut out for better things than 

 that. He told how, many years before, on the classic banks 

 of the Rhine, in a snug little vine-clad home, his eyes first 

 saw the light of day, and how as a boy, and then man, he 

 had helped to terrace the rocky hills, and carry the earth from 

 below in baskets on his back, to make the beds where grew 

 the grapes that made the sparkling wines of the Rhine. At 

 first I was much more interested in fish than grapes, for 

 while I did know they grew on vines, I certainly knew no 

 more, but as the old fellow rambled on, he finally jumped in 

 his narrative clear over the ocean and landed at Bolivar 

 Point, across Galveston Bay, where he went on to tell how 

 he just missed a fortune in grape-growing by a mere scratch. 

 It seemed that after a life-time of wandering he had saved up a 

 little money, and bargained for a few acres of land, but need- 

 ing his cash to buy his vines, had paid nothing on it. The 

 vines were planted and growing finely in the spring of '61, 

 when, alas for the old man's fortune, the war came on. The 

 big Yankee ships steamed up and down the coast, and finally 

 into the harbor, and anchored quite near the Point. Now, 

 while the old fellow was greatly interested in the grape, it was 

 not the kind they cultivate aboard a man-of-war, so he aban- 

 doned the place and moved to Houston. When the war ended, 

 however, he returned to look at his vineyard, but the fence 

 was all down and the cattle had trampled his poor vines to 

 death. Disheartened, and having no money to buy more, he 

 had moved over to Galveston Island shortly before, and so it 

 happened we met on that bright April morning. While this 

 is the outline, he filled in with many interesting incidents, 

 and none more so than the fabulous profits that could be 

 made on grapes. I do not remember now the vines he put to 



