F E li R I' A R V . 1 !) 1 



T H E GARDEN MAGAZINE 



23 



Upper scene, June 25th in the garden. From left to right, the rows are 

 beans, beets. Golden Bantam corn. Stowell's Evergreen corn. Alaska peas, 

 and Swiss chard. The lower view shows the same spot three weeks later 



planted that you become sure they are 

 never going to grow. 



Half of our ground was now planted! 

 The rest was reserved for later seeding 

 and a succession of crops according to the 

 time stated in the books that it takes each 

 kind to mature. 



All the first plantings came up beauti- 

 fully except the right hand end of row 6, 

 Gradus peas. There was a streak of hard 

 clay soil along there, and only half the 

 seeds sprouted. On June 14th we trans- 

 planted the stragglers, thickening up the 

 other end of the row. Then we thor- 

 oughly spaded the poor end and planted 

 it with Telephone peas, which grew well 

 enough and had big pods, but seemed 

 to us decidedly inferior in quality to both 

 Gradus and Alaska. We fooled the crows 

 and pigeons which ate up our neighbors' 

 corn seeds by hanging over, our rows some 

 strings on which ribbons of cotton cloth 

 were tied at intervals. They swung in 

 the wind enough to keep the birds away. 



By the middle of June we planted the 

 rest of the garden, and the boys spent an 

 hour each day weeding and plowing be- 

 tween the rows with the cultivator. The 

 peas were brushed on June 21st, four weeks 

 after they were planted. The corn was 

 about a foot high, and the beans were so 

 lusty that the beets seemed backward. 



The Swiss chard was the most profitable 

 crop in every way, for its rows were only 

 two feet apart while the marrows were twice 

 as far apart. The first crop of turnips was 

 a failure because they were not thinned out 

 in time to save them from becoming woody. 



The bush limas did 

 not do well for some 

 unknown cause which 

 affected this plant 

 throughout the town. 

 We were ready for 

 cutworms and various 

 insects, but none 

 came. Even the wood- 

 chucks which spoiled a 

 hundred lettuce heads 

 next door, never nib- 

 bled ours as we helped 

 smoke them out before 

 they had leisure to 

 call on us. In mid- 

 summer we moved 

 our chickens to new 

 ground, hen-house, 

 yard, and all. Then 

 we planted the rich 

 soil of the old yard 

 with summer turnips, 

 gave the tops to the 

 chickens and ate the 

 turnips ourselves — 

 but this produce was 

 not counted as part 

 of the garden. 



I said there were 

 three objects in hav- 

 ing this garden. Each 

 succeeded. We raised 

 all the fresh vege- 

 tables for a family of eleven for three 



months. There were thirty varieties. The 



same quantity would have cost $70.24 at 



the local market. They did cost us $53.12 



after paying the boys 



$35.12 for their work. 



The horse manure 



from our stable cost 



us nothing. We were 



given the tiny lettuce 



plants, and some of 



the herbs, but we gave 



away surplus seeds 



and thinnings to an 



equal value. Even if 



we had paid for the 



horse manure and the 



little plants, we should 



have had a money 



profit from the garden 



of at least ten dollars. 



Any man who has 



around his house as 



much spare ground as 



we planted, whether 



he lives there the year 



around or only for four 



summer months, can 



have as good a garden 



as ours, and if he will 



work in it himself an 



hour each day it need 



not cost him over $30 



including the cost of 



plowing, spading and 



fertilizing. 



The second object, 



just as desirable, was 



to make an interest for a school boy on vaca- 

 tion, something with enough regular work 

 to be discipline, easy enough to be taken as 

 fun, and showing quickly the result of care 

 or neglect. Here again our garden made 

 good. Tt was a common interest for father 

 and son, another bond of sympathy with ten- 

 nis, golf and the ball game. Besides, the 

 boy earned his vacation pocket money. 



The third, and the main object was to 

 get out of that garden health and strength 

 for ourselves, in body, mind, and soul. 

 Every Saturday of the summer is a day 

 off with me. I began by giving the garden 

 one hour in the morning, each Saturday. 

 The boys spent an hour there every morn- 

 ing. As the plants grew, including the 

 weeds, I found myself spending more and 

 more time there, sometimes the whole 

 morning, digging, trimming, hoeing, and 

 weeding, and an hour in the evening play- 

 ing the hose. What a change from the 

 city's dusty, noisy, smelly streets! What 

 a rest from the frets of business and the 

 telephone bell! What a tonic of air and 

 sunshine after a week in a stifling office! 

 Try it, and you too will know the appetite 

 and the dreamless sleep that come to the 

 happy farmer from the city. Then you 

 will know that the sure and the greatest 

 profit from a garden is the new health 

 which your body and mind will get m its 

 growth. It will lay up for you a treasure 

 quite beyond price, from which dividends 

 will be paid for many a month after the 

 frost has come, and whose interest will 

 make you plan during the winter nights to 

 have a still better garden next summer. 



Onions, carrots and summer turnips with Swiss chard and beans in the 

 distance; on June 25th in the upper panel. On September 4th looking in the 

 same general direction the lower panel shows second crop beans and corn 



