interest in the plants themselves. I hope to obtain much of my
recreation in testing the new varieties offered from year to year. In
engaging in such pursuits even the most cynical cannot suspect any
other purpose than that of observing impartially the behavior of the
varieties on trial.

I will maintain my grasp on the button-hole of the reader only long
enough to state once more a pet theory--one which I hope for leisure
to test at some future time. Far be it from me to decry the
disposition to raise new seedling varieties; by this course
substantial progress has been and will be made. But there is another
method of advance which may promise even better results.

In many of the catalogues of to-day we find many of the fine old
varieties spoken of as enfeebled and fallen from their first estate.
This is why they decline in popular favor and pass into oblivion.
Little wonder that these varieties have become enfeebled, when we
remember how ninety-nine hundredths of the plants are propagated. I
will briefly apply my theory to one of the oldest kinds still in
existence--Wilson's Albany. If I should set out a bed of Wilson's
this spring, I would eventually discover a plant that surpassed the
others in vigor and productiveness--one that to a greater degree than
the others exhibited the true characteristics of the variety. I should
then clear away all the other plants near it and let this one plant
propagate itself, until there were enough runners for another bed.
From this a second selection of the best and most characteristic
plants would be made and treated in like manner. It appears to me
reasonable and in accordance with nature that, by this careful and
continued selection, an old variety could be brought to a point of
excellence far surpassing its pristine condition, and that the higher