GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE 



May, 1920 



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THIS winter 

 when w c 

 were making 

 f a s c in a tin g 

 plans for ovir 

 western trip I 

 said to the man 

 to whom I con- 

 fide most of my 

 ambitions, "I 

 am going to write to father (A. I. Root) 

 and see if he can get us permission to visit 

 Luther Burbank 's place." I did not expect 

 to meet Mr. Burbank himself, but thought 

 lie might permit a man to show us around. 

 Nothing more was said at the time, but in 

 the course of a couple of weeks the afore- 

 mentioned man brought me a most cordial 

 invitation from Luther Burbank himself 

 who wrote, "Altho my time is priceless be- 

 yond any possible expression and we turn 

 off some thousands of people each year who 

 desire to see me, yet if you come I shall 

 make every possible effort to see you. ' ' Mr. 

 Puerden had written direct to Mr. Burbank 

 with the above result. It is convenient for 

 a nobody to have a father who numbers 

 great men among his friends and a husband 

 who knows how to obtain what his wife 

 wants. 



Mr. Burbank further said in his letter 

 that every growing thing would have to be 

 taken on 'faith, as^they had had the coldest 

 winter he had ever seen in that region since 

 he went to California 4.3 years _ ago— -that 

 everything was about as dead as in Ohio. 



1EAVING San Francisco early in the morn- 

 . ing, we reached Santa Rosa, which lies 

 about 60 miles to the north, a little be- 

 fore noon, and after lunching in a little res- 

 taurant the head of the family telephoned 

 to the Burbank place. A courteous voice 

 informed him we could see Mr. Burbank a 

 very few minutes, this being his busiest sea- 

 son, and instructed him to call at the resi- 

 dence. We had no difficulty in finding the 

 place, which lies at the edge of the town 

 with a distant background of hills. 



We came first to the residence, but not 

 being sure it was the Burbank home went 

 on to an office building on the opposite 

 corner to make inquiries. I remained out- 

 side to enjoy the fragrance of a great mag- 

 nolia tree in full bloom. A little beyond 

 and back of the tree was a greenhouse, and 

 while I stood there a man came around the 

 corner of the greenhouse, carrying a large 

 basket. He was dressed neatly, but no bet- 

 ter than any workman would dress for gar- 

 den work. When the others rejoined me I 

 remarked, "I just saw a man who lookeil 

 like Luther Burbank 's pictures, but I don't 

 suj)pose it could have been Mr. Burbank." 



We then went back to the house where 

 we were received by Mr. Burbank 's secre- 

 tary, the lady of the pleasant telephone 

 \oice, and asked to wait in tlie livingrooni 

 wliere we were jiresently joined by Mrs. 

 Burbank. Both the secretary and Mrs. 



AN HOUR WITH LUTHER BURBANK 



Stancy Puerden 



1 



Burbank told us 

 that Mr. Bur- 

 bank was unusu- 

 ally busy and 

 that our time 

 with him would 

 have to be very 

 limited indeed. 

 In a very few 

 m i n u t e s Mr. 

 Burbank came in with the kindest and 

 pleasantest smile and a cordial handshake 

 for each one. And he was the man I had 

 seen coming around the corner of the green- 

 house, carrying the large basket and dressed 

 as an ordinary workman. 



I am going to confide to you that every 

 one of A. I. Root 's children has remonstrat- 

 ed with him separately and collectively and 

 vigorously over his unconventional way of 

 dressing. We have pointed out to him that 

 his neighbors would not respect him if he 

 went about in such shabby clothing. Now 

 why do you suppose my heart instantly 

 warmed to Mr. Burbank for wearing just 

 the sort of clothes I have so disliked to see 

 my father wear? And some way I am quite 

 sure it would not disturb Mr. Burbank 's 

 serenity in the least to have King Albert 

 of Belgium call and find him in just such 

 clothing. Maybe he did. 



MR. BURBANK at once led us out of 

 doors and across the street to his ex- 

 perimental grounds. He said, ' ' How 

 I regret that you could not make your visit 

 in June when everything around here is a 

 dream of beauty." He had no monopoly 

 on the regretting. If I am ever in that 

 vicinity in June, I shall slip away to Santa 

 Rosa and prowl around the experimental 

 grounds and peep over the fence and doubt- 

 less be tempted to climb it, for I shall never 

 have the nerve to take up any of Mr. Bur- 

 bank 's time again. 



He led us past "no admission" signs, by 

 a "bed of luxuriant foxgloves which were 

 still dormant for the winter, and stopped 

 by a hybrid black walnut tree growing close 

 to the wall of a storage house. He asked 

 us to guess how old it was. Our sixteen- 

 year old son, 5 ft., 6 in. tall, by putting his 

 arms around the trunk could just touch the 

 tips of his fingers together, at shoulder 

 height, and it was tall in proportion. I, be- 

 lieve Mr. Puerden guessed 50 to 100 years. 

 Mr. Burbank said it was just four years old. 



Since then I have wondered at my 

 stupidity that I did not ask if it could be 

 grown in a cold climate and whether it will 

 be i)racticable for ordinary people to try to 

 raise them. I find no mention of walnut 

 trees in Mr. Burbank 's 1920 catalogs. 

 Wouldn't it be heavenly if one could plant 

 a few walnuts in his back yard and have a 

 walnut grove in four years' time? It takes 

 such an age for a beautiful tree to grow 

 to maturity, and it is so fatally easy for 

 brainless people to cut it down. 



The soil in which the wonderful walnut 



