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