104 MANUAL OF GARDENING 
give more than an inkling of the unspeakable merits of these 
weapons of society and civilization. When Mrs. Tarryer was 
showing twelve or fifteen acres of garden with never a weed to 
be seen, she valued her dozen or more of these light implements 
at five or ten dollars daily; whether they were in actual use or 
adorning the front hall, like a hunter’s or angler’s furniture, 
made no difference. But where are these millennial tools 
made and sold? Nowhere. They are as unknown as the 
Bible was in the dark ages, and we must give a few hints to- 
wards manufacturing them. 
“First, about the handles. The ordinary dealer or workman 
may say these knobs can be formed on any handles by winding 
them with leather; but just fancy a young maiden setting up 
her hoe meditatively and resting her hands and chin upon an 
old leather knob to reflect upon something that has been said 
to her in the garden, and we shall perceive that a knob by some 
other name would smell far sweeter. Moreover, trees grow 
large enough at the butt to furnish all the knobs we want — 
even for broom-sticks — though sawyers, turners, dealers, 
and the public seem not to be aware of it; yet it must be con- 
fessed we are so far gone in depravity that there will be trouble 
in getting those handles. 
“Tn a broadcast prayer of this public nature, absolute speci- 
fications would not be polite. Black walnut and butternut 
are fragrant as well as beautiful timber. Cherry is stiff, heavy, 
durable, and, like maple, takes a slippery polish. For fine, 
light handles, that the palm will stick to, butt cuts of poplar 
or cottonwood cannot be excelled, yet straight-grained ash will 
bear more careless usage. 
“The handles of Mrs. Tarryer’s hoes are never perfectly 
straight. All the bayonet class bend downward in use half 
an inch or more; all the thrust-hoe handles bend up in a 
regular curve (like a fiddle-bow turned over) two or three 
inches. Unless they are hung right, these hoes are very awk- 
