下载掌阅APP，畅读海量书库
立即打开
The choice that Tobias Hobson imposed on his patrons when he compelled them to take "the horse nearest to the stable-door" or none at all, is one that, in principle, we often have to make in selecting our strawberry-ground. We must use such as we have, or raise no berries. And yet it has been said that "with no other fruit do soil and locality make so great differences." While I am inclined to think that this is truer of the raspberry, it is also thoroughly established that location and the native qualities of the soil are among the first and chief considerations in working out the problem of success with strawberries.
Especially should such forethought be given in selecting a soil suited to the varieties we wish to raise. D. Thurber, editor "American Agriculturist," states this truth emphatically. In August, 1875, he wrote: "All talk about strawberries must be with reference to particular soils. As an illustration of this, there were exhibited in our office windows several successive lots of the Monarch of the West, which were immense as to size and wonderful as to productiveness. This same Monarch behaved in so unkingly a manner on our grounds (very light and sandy in their nature) that he would have been deposed had we not seen these berries, for it was quite inferior to either Charles Downing, Seth Boyden, or Kentucky."
It is a generally admitted fact that the very best soil, and the one adapted to the largest number of varieties, is a deep sandy loam, moist, but not wet in its natural state. All the kinds with which I am acquainted will do well on such land if it is properly deepened and enriched. Therefore, we should select such ground if we have it on our places, and those proposing to buy land with a view to this industry would do well to secure from the start one of the best conditions of success.
It is of vital importance that our strawberry fields be near good shipping facilities, and that there be sufficient population in the immediate vicinity to furnish pickers in abundance. It will be far better to pay a much higher price for land—even inferior land—near a village and a railroad depot, than to attempt to grow these perishable fruits in regions too remote. A water communication with market is, of course, preferable to any other. Having considered the question of harvesting and shipping to market, then obtain the moist, loamy land described above, if possible.
Such ground will make just as generous and satisfactory returns in the home garden, and by developing its best capabilities the amateur can attain results that will delight his heart and amaze his neighbors.
Shall the fact that we have no such soil, and cannot obtain it, discourage us? Not at all! There are choice varieties that will grow in the extremes of sand or clay. More effort will be required, but skill and information can still secure success; and advantages of location, climate, and nearness to good markets may more than counterbalance natural deficiencies in the land. Besides, there is almost as solid a satisfaction in transforming a bit of the wilderness into a garden as in reforming and educating a crude or evil specimen of humanity. Therefore if one finds himself in an unfavorable climate, and shut up to the choice of land the reverse of a deep, moist, sandy loam, let him pit his brain and muscle against all obstacles.
If the question were asked, "Is there anything that comes from the garden better liked than a dish of strawberries?" in nine instances out of ten the answer would be, "Nothing," even though sour Wilsons were grown; and yet, too often the bed is in a neglected corner and half shaded by trees, while strong-growing vegetables occupy the moist, open spaces. It is hardly rational to put the favorite of the garden where, at best, a partial failure is certain. Let it be well understood that strawberries cannot be made to do well on ground exhausted by the roots and covered by the shade of trees.
On many farms and even in some gardens there are several varieties of soil. Within the area of an acre I have a sandy loam, a gravelly hillside, low, black, alluvial land, and a very stiff, cold, wet clay. Such diversity does not often occur within so limited a space, but on multitudes of places corresponding differences exist. In such instances, conditions suited to every variety can be found, and reading and experience will teach the cultivator to locate his several kinds just where they will give the best results. Moreover, by placing early kinds on warm, sunny slopes, and giving late varieties moist, heavy land, and cool, northern exposures, the season of this delicious fruit can be prolonged greatly. The advantage of a long-continued supply for the family is obvious, but it is often even more important to those whose income is dependent on this industry. It frequently occurs that the market is "glutted" with berries for a brief time in the height of the season. If the crop matures in the main at such a time, the one chance of the year passes, leaving but a small margin of profit; whereas, if the grower had prolonged his season, by a careful selection of soils as well as of varieties, he might sell a large portion of his fruit when it was scarce and high.
Climate is also a very important consideration, and enters largely into the problem of success from Maine to Southern California. Each region has its advantages and disadvantages, and these should be estimated before the purchaser takes the final steps which commit him to a locality and methods of culture which may not prove to his taste. In the far North, sheltered situations and light, warm land should be chosen for the main crop; but in our latitude, and southward, it should always be our aim to avoid that hardness and dryness of soil that cut short the crops and hopes of so many cultivators.