LUTHER BURBANK 



the antelope would sometimes try to find a way of 

 getting at its juicy substance. I have heard plains- 

 men tell of seeing the antelope holding in its mouth 

 a slab that had been dislodged, and twisting its 

 neck this way and that in an effort to find an 

 unprotected spot at which it could nibble. 



Obviously the cactus had need of its spines if 

 it was to escape the unwelcome attentions of the 

 browsing animals that found such difficulty in 

 securing sustenance among the dwarfed herbage 

 of the plains and deserts. 



But by the same token it appears that if a way 

 could be found to take from the cactus its bristling 

 array of spines, the plant might be made to supply 

 forage in regions where other succulents cannot 

 secure a foothold. So the problem of producing a 

 spineless cactus was one that had but to be sug- 

 gested to any one who knew the life of the arid 

 regions to make instant appeal. 



MATERIALS AND RESULTS 



It was obvious, however, to anyone having any 

 clear knowledge of plant development, that the 

 task of removing the spines from the cactus would 

 be a very arduous one. 



It is true that there are small species of cactus 

 that are spineless, or nearly so, that have been 

 familiar for generations. One of the first pets of 

 my childhood days was a thornless cactus, a beau- 



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