to run wild. Thickets of brushwood extended from the fences well into
the fields, and in a notable instance across the entire place. One
portion was so stony that it could not be plowed; another so wet and
sour that even grass would not grow upon it; a third portion was not
only swampy, but liable to be overwhelmed with stones and gravel twice
a year by the sudden rising of a mountain stream. There was no fruit
on the place except apples and a very few pears and grapes. Nearly all
of the land, as I found it, was too impoverished to produce a decent
crop of strawberries. The location of the place, moreover, made it
very expensive--it cost $19,000; and yet during the third year of
occupancy the income from this place approached very nearly to the
outlay, and in 1878, during which my most expensive improvements were
made, in the way of draining, taking out stones, etc., the income paid
for these improvements, for current expenses, and gave a surplus of
over $1,800. In 1879, the net income was considerably larger. In order
that these statements may not mislead any one, I will add that in my
judgment only the combined business of plants and fruit would warrant
such expenses as I have incurred. My farm is almost in the midst of a
village, and the buildings upon it greatly increased its cost. Those
who propose to raise and sell fruit only should not burden themselves
with high-priced land. Farms, even on the Hudson, can be bought at
quite moderate prices at a mile or more away from centres, and yet
within easy reach of landings and railroad depots.

Mr. Charles Downing, whose opinions on all horticultural questions are
so justly valued, remarked to me that no other fruit was so affected
by varying soils and climates as the strawberry. I have come to the
conclusion that soil, locality, and climate make such vast differences
that unless these variations are carefully studied and indicated,
books will mislead more people than they help. A man may write a