THE GARDEN IN TOWN 



But before the city gardener has gone very far in his gar- 

 den enterprise he is confronted by another of the high hurdles 

 that Madam Nature sets for his confusion — the soil. No 

 honest country soil is his, redolent of clover, with a breath 

 that is "blent with sweet odors." It may be as hard as the 

 heart of a wicked corporation, as poisoned as the mind of a 

 bribed juror, and the city gardener, book in hand, looks at 

 the unlikely and unlovely, perchance ill-smelling, material, 

 then at his book, and wonders if it be "loam," or a "light 

 sandy loam," or any of the other Christian soils he has read 

 about. 



If one wants a real garden, and has only hard and doubtful 

 soil, it is better to dig out the entire bed to the depth of at 

 least two feet, put in stones or cinders for drainage, then fill in 

 with good, new, thoroughly respectable soil. But this is an 

 expensive process, though it might be pleasantly accomplished 

 on the instalment plan. 



Then there is a homoeopathic treatment, which is often 

 helpful. It is the "texture" of the soil, as the scientific farm- 

 ers call it, that is probably at fault. In which case, coal-ashes, 

 unlikely as they seem, well dug in, will serve as an inexpensive 

 and effective remedy. Wood-ashes will positively sweeten 

 soil that has grown sour and unpalatable to plants. There are 

 certainly other fertilizers, but this is to the city man the cheap- 

 est and readiest soil amelioration. Yet he, as well as his 

 brother farmer, is privileged to send a sample of soil to the 

 nearest State experiment station and get definite relief in a 

 complete diagnosis and prescription. 



And then comes the planting. Very much as a theatrical 

 manager is besieged and beset by loveliness demanding a part 

 in his productions, the city gardener finds it diflficult to turn a 

 deaf ear to the importunities of the much-belauded garden 



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