276 QUEENSLAND AGRICULTURAL JOURNAL. [1 Apri, 1898. 
rejoices his heart, for the hole wiil hold water and keep the trees nice and 
green in dry weather. If he had it, he would put a couple of feet of rich 
manure into the hole for the roots to feed on. 
All the holes being now ready, he casts about to get trees, and he is 
fortunately able to pick up afew odd lots—nicely labelled—a great bargain 
in an auctior-room, where they have been put up for sale in bundles for the 
last two or three days, and have failed to find a purchaser. Meanwhile he has 
been advised to send to Sydney fora large supply, and these arrive perhaps 
ten days after they have been lifted from the orchard in Parramatta or 
elsewhere. The roots are nicely bound round with a strip of canvas, and the 
trees have enjoyed a breezy passage on the deck of one of the old-fashioned 
steamers of that day. They have also further been refreshed by copious 
“‘ douches” of salt water from the deck hose, after a day spent in the broiling 
sun. They are all named and carefully labelled. That is never forgotten, 
and thus our friend finds himself the happy possessor of so many Emperor 
mandarins, so many Navel oranges, so many Acme-Blood-Maltese oranges, 
with lemons to match. Now he goes in for hard work at planting. For the 
present the roots of the trees are placed in trenches and covered up till he is 
ready for them. He has never heard how an orange-tree should be planted, so 
he seizes a tree with a lot of straggling roots, and places it carefully in the 
middle of the hole on top of the manure and shovels in a foot of earth. Then 
he jumps into the hole and stamps the clay firmly round the roots with his 
boots, probably regretting that he has no rammer at hand. When the hole is 
full he throws up a nice mound about a foot up the stem, slopes it off well, 
flattening the soil hard down with his spade, then steps back with conscious 
pride at his achievement, congratulating himself that the winds may blow, but 
a hurricane force will not root that tree up, for is it not planted 2 feet below 
the surface! As fora drought he can defy it, for are not the holes water 
tight ? Ergo, they will always retain sufficient moisture for the roots. His 
next proceeding is to collect all the citrus seeds he can lay his hands on. He 
buys oranges and lemons, and sows his seeds. He buys damaged oranges and 
lemons from the fruitsellers. Little he recks of fruit-fly larve in the rotten 
fruit, for he knows nothing about fruit pests yet. He is getting experience. 
Now three months pass away. He cannot understand why a number of 
his young trees are dying off, leaving a dry brown stem in place of the green 
one he planted. But he is greatly cheered by observing a healthy green shoot 
springing from the root. Of course he has lost « great number of his Sydney 
and auction bought trees, but he has filled up their places, and is serenely 
<onscious by the second season that very few of his trees are dead. So year 
after year for four or five years he extends his orchard till he has 10 or 15 
acres planted, all living. Now his first trees begin to flower, and he then sits 
down and makes a calculation. He has been told that some trees will bring 
him in £5 per tree; indeed, he has heard of lemon-trees producing £10 worth 
of fruit ina season. Others, however, may produce very little, so he reckons 
that on an average his trees may return him £1 per tree. Now he has 
planted some 400 trees per acre; that will yield £400 per acre. Hence his 
first 5 acres—all grafted trees of the best kinds, as per label—will return him 
at least £2,000, and a few years later, when his whole 20 acres are in full 
bearing, he will be able to sit down, a made man, with a very large and certain 
income. 
But he has forgotten one little cireumstance. Every week he finds some 
trees turning yellow; then the leaves drop off, and eventually, after a sickly 
struggle, these young trees bid farewell to the world, and have to be replaced. 
He cannot tell why they die, so that when the fulness of time arrives, when he 
expects to reap a golden harvest, he finds he has but a fraction of the crop he 
had reckoned on, and, worse than all, the major portion consists of that 
delectable fruit known as the rough sweet lemon. He has planted well-labelled 
