LUTHER BURBANK 



Or what triviality, out of the ordinary, will lead 



to the discovery of a new truth? 



***** 



The potato seed ball was a little thing, an 

 accident almost, a triviality, at least, so any prac- 

 tical farmer would have said. 



Away back in the history of the potato, when 

 it had to depend upon its seed for reproduction, 

 every healthy potato plant bore one or more. 



But years of cultivation have removed from 

 the potato the necessity of bearing seeds for 

 the preservation of its race. The potato plant, so 

 certain, now% to reproduce itself through subdi- 

 vision of its bulb or tuber — so reliant on man for 

 its propagation — has little use for the seed upon 

 which its ancestors depended for perpetuation 

 before men relieved it of this burden. 



So the average potato grower, knowing that 

 next year's crop depends only on this year's 

 tubers — and being more anxious, alas, to keep his 

 crop at a fixed standard than to improve it — might 

 see the occasional seed ball without knowing its 

 meaning — or realizing its possibilities. 



Luther Burbank saw the seed ball in his 

 mother's potato patch. If he did not realize its 

 possibilities, at least he scented an adventure. 



And who can say in advance where adventure 

 — any adventure — will lead? 



[58] 



