1877 .] 
AMERICAN" AGRICULTURIST. 
343 
Ramanas has been accepted in various works and 
catalogues, at home and abroad, as the common 
name, it is not worth while to attempt to change it, 
especially as it has the advantage of being one 
word instead of two. It may commend this rose to 
those who are fond of the antique, to know that 
as early as the year 1100, the court ladies made a 
perfume of its leaves, though I am sorry to add 
that they had the bad taste to add camphor and, 
worse yet, musk !... .Among the noticeable plants 
now in bloom, is what is known in the West as 
Tli«‘ Kansas Gay Feather, 
though it is not especially Kansan, nor is it feathery, 
but as the name is more likely to be popular than 
Liatris pychnostachya, I will not find fault with it. 
Our clump is well established, and I doubt if Kan¬ 
sas or elsewhere can show it in finer condition ; the 
flower-stalks stand nearly, if not. quite, 5 ft. high, 
and for half their length are a dense cylindrical 
spike of the liveliest rose purple ; the effect in 
the mass is superb.I am every year more im¬ 
pressed with the mistake we—that includes all 
Americans—make, in neglecting our native lilies, 
but more especially our 
Superb or TurU’s-Cap I/ily, 
(Lilium superbum) which is found in rich meadows 
from Canada to Georgia, and which almost any one 
can, with a little trouble, find in flower, and mark 
so that the bulbs may be taken up in the fall, and 
removed to the garden. It will do fairly in or¬ 
dinary garden soil, but if one would see what it is 
capable of, give it a light soil with plenty of muck 
or peat, and then—let it alone. Tear by year the 
bulbs will gain in strength, and throw up more vig¬ 
orous stems, and when one has an established 
clump, he will admit that Linnaeus hit it exactly, 
when he wrote its name superbum. In favorable 
situations it may be met with in the wild state, 
growing 6 feet high, with £0 or more flowers, but 
in cultivation it has reached 8 and 9 feet, with 40 or 
more. The divisions of the flower are hand¬ 
somely recurved; they are orange-colored at the 
base, and thickly spotted with violet purple, while 
the upper and larger portion is of a peculiar red, 
which has been by some termed “ mahogany color,” 
the general effect being exceedingly rich. Here is a 
plant within the reach of almost all, who travel about 
the country with open eyes, and will take a little 
trouble to secure it—and if those who would glad¬ 
ly have fine things, if they could only afford them, 
will get a good clump of this lily, they will have 
little reason to regret that their means will not al¬ 
low them to indulge in costly exotics. 
How Plums are Made into Prunes. 
Oregon and California being fortunately as yet 
free from that destructive pest to all stone fruits, 
the curculio, the plum flourishes there, and pro¬ 
duces most generous crops. We have had several 
inquiries from these States, asking how plums are 
converted into prunes. As this is outside of the 
line of our experience, the best we can do is to give 
the methods described by French authors, and fol¬ 
lowed in the country from whence we derive nearly 
all of this kind of fruit. It is generally supposed 
that any plums may be dried into prunes ; this is a 
mistake; in France the varieties fit for the purpose 
form a distinct group, and in districts celebrated for 
the quality of their prunes, such as Tours, Angem, 
Provence, etc., they cultivate some special variety. 
The leading varieties are the Brignolles, D’Angen, 
Quetsche, and Perdrigon Violet, which are but lit- 
tl» known in this country; the St. Catharine and 
Pond’s Seedling, well known European varieties, 
and the Washington, of course American, are some¬ 
times cultivated, but to a limited, extent, in some 
localities. The plums are allowed to get so ripe 
that they fall from the trees, and to prevent injury 
by the fall, the ground beneath the trees is either 
made soft by working with the plow and harrow, 
or is covered with straw. The fruit, which is picked 
up every day, or every other day, is washed if soiled, 
and then spread upon wicker trays made for the 
purpose ; these are either circular, or egg-shaped, 
or rather the shape of a battle-door, the narrow 
end coming to a point to serve as a handle ; they 
are about 20 inches across. The drying is done by 
exposure to both the sun and to fire heat, ordinary 
baker’s ovens being used, or ovens are especially 
built for the purpose. The object is, to dry the 
fruit as rapidly as possible, without breaking the 
skin. The fruit, in a single layer in the trays, is 
exposed for several days to the sun, where it is 
carefully turned from time to time, in ofder that all 
parts may be equally exposed. Neither of several 
French writers mention just how long this con¬ 
tinues, but as all agree in saying it is for the pur¬ 
pose of toughening the skin, we infer that it differs 
with circumstances, and that the proper condition 
is only learned by practice. The trays of fruit are 
placed in an oven heated from 165° to 175°, (Fah.), 
and the mouth of the oven securely closed. At the 
end of 24 hours the fruit is taken out, and when 
completely cold, It is turned upon the tray. In the 
mean time the oven is re-heated, this time from 
212° to 230°, and the fruit placed in again, where it 
remains as before ; after another cooling and turn¬ 
ing, the oven being heated to 255°, a third drying is 
given, and this generally completes the process, 
though it is sometimes necessary to return the fruit 
to the oven once more. The prunes are known to 
be properly done if they have a certain degree 
of elasticity when pressed by the fingers. They 
should have perfect skins, which shine as if var¬ 
nished, and be free from all scorching. In France 
it is customary for the growers and dryers of the 
fruit to sell it to the packers in Bordeauxand other 
markets, where three grades are recognized, found¬ 
ed on the number of prunes required to weigh 500 
grammes, or a trifle over a pound and a quarter. 
If 70, or less, weigh this, they are “fine,” if it re¬ 
quires 80, they are “ medium,” and “ small ” if 90 
or more are required. In packing, the fruit is assort¬ 
ed in the same manner, the “superfine” being, se¬ 
lected prunes, 30 to 35 of which weigh 500 grammes, 
and down through several grades. In particular 
localities the process of drying is varied ; in Prov¬ 
ence, the fruit is scalded before drying. In some 
of the finer kinds the prune, before entering the 
oven for the last time, is rounded, by turning the 
stone within, and flattening down the ends, without 
breaking the skin. The Brignolles prunes have the 
fruit peeled, strung upon sticks, and dried in the 
sun; when nearly dry the stone is removed, and 
the drying finished. For the common prunes, such 
as are imported in casks, the fruit is shaken from 
the trees, and does not receive such special care in 
drying. It is important that those on the Pacific 
coast and elsewhere, who wish to undertake the 
manufacture of prunes, should experiment with 
varieties known to be suited to the purpose. "We 
have no doubt that, at least for a common article, 
some of our different fruit dryers will answer their 
purpose as well as the ovens used in France. 
For other Household Items see “ Basket ” pages. 
Home Topics. 
BT FAITH KOCHESTEB. 
Telling Stovics to Children. 
Most persons who read “Helen’s Babies,” felt 
some sympathy for “Uncle Harry,” whose insatiate 
nephews made such frequent demands for stories. 
A “Budge,” or a “Toddie,” by any other name, is 
quite as unreasonable and unseasonable in its re¬ 
quests. “ Uncle Harry ” resolved never to teach 
any children of his own such a means of imposing 
upon the good nature, and destroying the leisure of 
grown up people. I came to that decision myself 
when I had the care of a dear little niece for a few 
months many years ago. At least I resolved never 
to begin making up stories for another child. If 
you once let a child know that you can manufacture 
stories to order, where can you find a stopping 
place? If your child has a nurse, and you are not 
with it much of the time, you ought to be able to 
make up or repeat stories for it frequently. But if 
you have the little one’s constant presence, you 
must at least confine the story telling to particular 
times and seasons—bed-time or twilight stories. 
Some of us who have already too great a demand 
upon our feeble brains in the way of household 
plans, money-getting and money-stretching perplex¬ 
ities, baby-tending and child-training, and family 
management generally—we can hardly afford to tell 
stories at all, but find it far easier to read them from 
good books and papers. You cannot get the atten¬ 
tion of the little ones so well when reading as when 
talking to them. You have to manage to keep the 
youngest one quiet while reading to a group. So 
long as there is a picture to look at, all goes well, 
but when you must turn over the leaf, the story is 
spoiled for the wee one. But if he will not keep 
still, he must be banished to another room. A few 
seasons of exile will secure tolerable quiet on his 
part, even when he cannot understand the story. 
But he wishes to understand, and it is well to throw 
in some lively running comments adapted to his 
comprehension. 
In making up stories for a child, one must be 
careful to avoid too sensational a style. I well re¬ 
member into what a fever of excitement I worked 
my little niece, by one of my stories about a care¬ 
less little boy whose thoughtlessness was the cause 
of his father’s death. She lay and cried about it 
after she should have been asleep, and begged to 
know “ Why did Johnny do so ? ” In vain did I 
continue the story, and try to carry it on to a more 
cheerful ending—I could not bring the dead father 
back to life, and my very sincere little auditor could 
get no comfort from anything I could tell her. I 
concluded then only to repeat ready-made stories to 
children, Bible stories, historical tales, mythologi¬ 
cal fables; for I supposed that no generous person 
would refuse to tell stories when asked. 
I have more than once referred to a woman I once 
met who more than any other filled my ideal of 
what a mother should be, in her conduct with her 
only child, a boy of 31- years. I asked her if she 
told him stories much. She surprised me by saying 
that she never told him regular stories, though she 
talked with him as a companion about all sorts of 
things. She said she didn’t want him to know that 
she could “tell stories,” as he now thought story¬ 
telling a special talent of his auntie, and was in¬ 
clined to give her little rest from that business 
whenever he found her disengaged. 
The beauty of it is, that if you only give children 
the raw material for stories, facts of one kind or 
another, when various subjects interest them, they 
very naturally fall to work and make their own sto¬ 
ries, more or less like those you read to them per¬ 
haps. I like their fairy stories better than those 
which grown up people tell. Every day this sum¬ 
mer I get a deal of quiet entertainment out of the 
stories made over picture books by a little girl of 
five. These little stories show no precocity of tal¬ 
ent or remarkable genius, but I never happened to 
see another child with such a necessity laid upon 
her for spinning little yarns to herself. 
Some parents condemn the classic Mother Goose 
stories as utterly bad. I think they have their 
place, for the rollicking, frolicksome hours, told in 
sing-song funny style, as recognized nonsense. I 
don’t like the books with their wretched illustra¬ 
tions, and some of the “melodies” themselves are 
too tragic in their nature, but it is a part of a “ lib-. 
eral education ” to know Mother Goose and all her 
class of foolish-funny literature; and to hear and 
learn much better things at the same time. 
A Mop Wi'ingtr. 
My remarks on Floor Cleaning, in the May num¬ 
ber of the American Agricrdturist, called forth a let¬ 
ter from the Oneida Community, accompanied by a 
photograph of the wringer used in that institution. 
It is unpatented, and is not offered for sale, but the 
writer says: “ Our own folks, and our hired help, 
think ever so much of them, and have never ceased 
to express their appreciation of them. You see it 
is a bench on wheels and castors. It carries one or 
more pails, (if you please,) one for wringing, the 
other for rinsing. 
“ You will observe it has a knuckle-joint press 
arrangement that parts and closes the rollers. 
There is a spring that allows all thicknesses of cloth 
to be accommodated. On turning the crank the 
