May 1, 1909 
THE AUSTRALIAN GARDENER. 
Amongst the Grapes. 
BY E. MASON 
To the immediate south of Adelaide, 
between the hills and the sea, lies a 
splendidly fertite stretch of country. It 
is called the Sturt district, the Marion 
district the Brighton district- any one 
‘or all three. 
prolifie land inentioned in Numbers, but 
Lt could not have been the 
it might well have been. ‘Spies’ were 
‘sent into the land of Canaan, and ‘now 
the time was the time of the firstripe 
grapes. 
the brook of Esheol, and cut down from 
And they came unto 
thence a branch with one cluster of 
grapes, and they bare it between two upon 
a staff.’ 
Recently a small party of Adelaide 
residents visited the Sturt district at ‘the 
‘time of the firstripe grape,’ and coming to 
the brook of Sturt, they not only cut 
down one cluster of grapes but several, 
‘and saw so many others that their quantity 
Was estimated not in units but in tons. 
The ‘spies’ on this occasion consisted of 
Mr. W. Matson, Mr. A. D. Bruce 
{manager for B Seppelt & Sons, Ltd, 
‘owners of the show winery of Australia), 
Mr, George Auld (of W. P. Auld & Sons) 
Mr. A. Mackie (Secretary of the South 
Australian Commercial Travellers’ Asso- 
ciation), Mr, Ernest Whitington (of The 
Register), and the writer, 
Mr. Matson was our host. We were 
undertaking the journey at his invitation, 
and it was his vineyard we were to 
Visit. 
A little way out of the city—some two 
miles say—we entered the fertile country 
of which L am speaking, and thence on- 
ward we passed _ prosperous-looking 
xosidences and gardens and horse paddocks 
and cow pastures galore. But one thing 
struck me, which was this: that fully two- ~ 
thirds of the land, was not doing what it 
Ought to do, was not carrying the people 
which it ought to carry, and that if the 
Magnificent area was fully occupied it 
would be yielding a fine living to 
thousands of people instead of a few 
Score. , 
Of course it is not cheap land now, as 
our party talked of values of £100an acre 
4 
27 
without river frontages. But even at 
that-figure the acres would pay to till, be- 
cause the advantage of the nearness of the 
market afforded by the city must not be 
overlooked. 
As we drove along we saw signs that 
Time plays the part of local optionist: 
We passed the remnants of several famous 
old hotels, the names of which must be as 
familiar almost to old colonists as their 
own. We saw the Beehive on the Bay 
Road, now closed up and given over to 
the rats. We passed the remains of the 
Kanyuroo, of which nothing remains but 
the cellar. And we -went by the old 
Tanners’ Arms, which is turned into a 
private dwelling with a nice garden 
around it. Next we pulled up at the 
Lady MacDonald Hotel, for uo other 
purpose than to rest the horses. This 
well-known wayside house is also doomed 
as it is one of the sufferers of the Sturt 
local-option poll, a renawal of its licence 
having been refused. 
No far from the Lady McDonald we 
came to Mr, Matson’s vineyard, on a 
corner of the road. Only part of the 
property is given over to vines, the other 
portion being devoted to market garden- 
ing purposes by Mr. Nicholls, 
works the estate in conjunction with Mr. 
Matson. 
The soil is tip-top being a rich alluvial. 
Right at the bottom of the garden is the 
Sturt River, from which water is drawn 
by an oil engine for irrigation pur- 
poses. ; e 
We came to the grapes. The amateurs 
stood amazed at the prodigality of the 
who 
crop, while our two professional members 
—Messrs. Auld and Bruce—after a 
critical survey turned roand and con- 
gratulated the owner on his prospects, 
_ Five acres are under Don Pedro grapes 
and three acres under other sorts, such as 
sweetwaters and muscatels, 
years old, and when we looked at the 
trunks of some of them—as thick as a 
man’s thigh—we could well believe it, 
One vine, which is affectionately known 
as ‘ Daddy’ is about a foot through, and 
as much as 120 lb. of grapes haye been 
cut from it. 
At the time of our trip Mr, Matson 
_ urged upon us. 
We were > 
told that some of the vines are over sixty. 10 2ecounting for taste, 
anticipated that he would get thirty tons 
of grapes from his five acres: of Don 
Pedros, and I have learnt since that his 
expectations been more than 
realised. ‘The vines get the benefit of 
bonedust manure every second year, but 
they are not irrigated, although one dry 
year the owner gave them water from the 
Sturt with good results. 
We wandered through the vines, and 
although we ate as many grapes as we 
could and took more away with us, the 
prospective thirty tons did not seem to be 
seriously reduced thereby. We also 
sampled Mr. Nicholls’ tomatoes and 
almonds, and had only one fault to find 
with them, which was that we really could 
not eat as many as the owner earnestly 
We noticed amongst the 
vineyard too evident signs of the presence 
of the starling, which someone so kindly 
introduced to Australia as a blessing we 
should appreciate. Weasked Mr. Nicholls 
if he combated the starling by the use of 
poison. 
‘ Poison a starling!’ he exclaimed’ ‘ The 
only way to kill a starling is to shoot it 
down, pull its head off, and stamp on the 
remains. Only then can you be sure that 
it is dead.’ 
We left Mr. Matson’s vineyard with 
reyret, On the way home we called in at 
Mr. Frank Hamilton’s place, Ewell Farm 
in the Marion district. We saw his vines 
and his currants—which were ready for 
market—and we saw his cellars. He has 
have 
_ some 50,000 gallons in the vats, which 
vats, by the way, he makes himself. We 
tried at his positive ‘requests, his Pedro 
vintage and his special port. Our two 
experts, with that peculiar twist of the 
eyelid which amateurs envy butcan never 
acquire, held up their glasses towards the 
light. . 
‘Good’ said Mr. Bruce: ‘ but? (with de- 
liberation) ‘do you know, I like Seppelts- ~ 
field wines best.’ 4 ‘ 
‘Well, well,’ said Mr. Auld. *‘ There’s 
As for me give 
me a Yalumba vintage, What do you 
say, Mackie?’ 
Mr. Mackie (with emphasis, and 
sipping some Hwell claret), ‘ Let ’em all 
come.’ 
After the laugh which greeted ‘that 
reply was over, we drove away, and soon 
hearty thanks to our host ended a pleasant 
afternoon. 
[This article was unavoidably crowded. 
“out of our last issue.—Ep.] 
