"Yep, and we'll raise anything that grows on the temperate zone," was the confident rejoinder. 



"Bet you don't," he replied. "Bet you can't raise an eggplant." 



"Taken," cried the enthusiastic one. "I'll send you the finest eggplant you ever ate before sum- 

 mer's over." 



And so flea beetle on those precious plants would never do. 



Of course, the mounds about the orchard trees had been leveled in the early spring, now was the 

 time to give them a mulch of old straw from the stable, this one not to keep them warm, but to conserve 

 the moislure about the roots. 



Radish seed was planted in every melon hill, scraping the earth slightly with the foot, dropping 

 a few seed, pushing the soil back and treading upon it. That sounds like a shifiless way to plant, 

 does it not? but this was only a guardian crop; they break the ground, germinating in a few days, also 

 the flea beetle bvis radish leaves much better than melon leaves, and feasts upon the latter only when 

 the former are not to be found. 



The spinach patches being virtually a failure, Walter was sent over them to pick some for home 

 use, then Ted sowed Canada wood ashes preparatory to cultivating for a new crop of a difTerenl type. 



The ashes remind me of an incident of the early summer. The high-chief-boss farmer had just 

 gone over to Thanksgiving Cottage to dinner, when Mike appeared saying: 



"They a man over there want see you, Mr. Fuller'." 



"Well, tell him to make himself at home and I'll be there in a minute." 



Mike returned very promptly, saying: "He say he can't wait, very important." 



"Tfcll him to come over here then, I'm going to finish this meal as quick as I can and get back 

 to work." 



The gentleman appeared making profuse apologies and saying he was from the State Department 

 sent to analyze our fertilizers. 



"You've an easy job neighbor," said the Senior Partner, "better sit down and join me in my frugal 

 meal. We haven't any fertilizer but good old stable manure." 



"That's a pretty story all right, Mr. FuUerton, but everyone knows you couldn't make a place 

 look like this without chemical fertilizer," he replied. 



"It's a fact nevertheless. Why, man alive, this virgin soil, what does it want with chemical ferti- 

 lizers? I wouldn't have used manure if it had not been burned over so many years. AH this land 

 needs is humus." 



By this time they had gone out upon the farm and were joined by another gentlemen, a companion 

 to the first. 



The spokesman said: 



"Mr. FuUerton claims he has used no commercial fertiUzer, Jim." 



Whereupon "Jim" asked: 



"What are all those bags in the barn then, Mr. FuUerton?" And it was said with a tone of voice 

 that implied that the Railroad Farmer was caught "dead to rights" this time. 



"Canada wood ashes, help yourselves. Take a whole bag with you and analyze it if you desire." 



They went to the barn and were soon thoroughly convinced it was wood ashes pure and simple. 



"Mike bring me that bag of nitrate of soda." 



"This, gentlemen, is the only thing in the nature of a chemical fertilizer that I shall use this year 

 and I got this only as a hastener for lettuce, celery, and endive. This is one of the farm's best assets." 

 And he showed them out behind the barn a tarred kerosene barrel sunk beside the stalls; raising the 

 lid disclosed all the liquid stable waste. 



"Ihis is as good as nitrate and costs nothing," he further explained. 



The (.\perls went away after more carefully inspecting the crops, fully convinced that our point 

 was well taken and saying: 



"Well, these fellow s down in the village will be mightily disappointed when they see us, for they 

 were sure you had some special brand of fertilizer and we told them we could find out all about it. But 

 we've nothing to say. Arn't you ever going to use fertilizer, Mr. FuUerton?" 



"Bless your souls, yes. Didn't I use fertilizer when I plowed that rye under? Next fall I am 

 going to put on about ten tons to the acre of manure again, and I am going to turn under crimson clover, 

 vetch, and rye on every square foot I can get planted. Then I shall use lime for a sweetener, for we 

 now can afford the hme a little time to work. Next summer when 1 am putting in a second and third 

 crop on the same* ground I shall probably use blood and bone or bone meal. Don't mi.'^understand 

 me, I think chemical fertihzers are bully for old worn out land, but it would be like 'carrying coals to 

 Newcastle' to put it on this virgin soil. The craze for chemical fertilizers has gone too far. 1 here are 

 places where they have put it on so heavy (with the theory that if one ton is good two tons will be better) 

 that they have chemical laboratories, not farms. All chemical fertilizers is 'lazy man's way,' he claims 

 he will not have weeds, so will save cultivation. Weeds are the farmer's best friends, they force him 

 to cultivate, and lack of cultivation is the crime of modern farming. If they'll pile some old manure 

 on that ground now and so liberate through decomposition the various component parts of the chemical 

 fertilizers, thcv will have farms again." 



"We're glad to hear you speak that way, Mr. FuUerton, for the fertilizer men all thought you 

 were down on them and felt pretty sore about it." 



"Give them my love and tell them the^v are the best thing that ever happened, only they are work- 

 ing the game the wTong way. They think by selling a man two tons where he needs one they are doing 

 great work. Let them study the subject and give the farmer real help, even if they only sell him half 

 a ton, they'll be much better off in the end and the farmers will swear by them, instead of at them as 

 their crops run lower and lower." 



"You're right, Mr. FuUerton, we're glad we came," as they swung on the train. 



By the eleventh of June the radishes were so well gathered, sweet corn was planted in every third 

 row (radishes had been planted 18 inches apart), while Ted with the Planet Jr. cultivated all of acre 



3S 



