inseparable from the soil, and which cannot be wholly eradicated. The
best we can hope in such a case is to make up by art what is lacking
in nature.

This divergence from the deep, moist sandy loam, the ideal strawberry
land, is usually toward a stiff, cold, stubborn clay, or toward a
droughty, leachy sand that retains neither fertility nor moisture. Of
course, these opposite soils require in most respects different
treatment.

We will consider first the less objectionable, that is, the heavy
clay. To call clay more favorable for strawberries than sandy land may
seem like heresy to many, for it is a popular impression that light
soils are the best. Experience and observation have, however,
convinced me of the contrary. With the clay you have a stable
foundation. Your progress may be slow, but it can be made sure. The
character of a sandy foundation was taught centuries ago. Moreover,
all the fine foreign-blooded varieties, as well as our best native
ones, grow far better on heavy land, and a soil largely mixed with
clay gives a wider range in the choice of varieties.

If I had my choice between a farm of cold, stiff clay or light, leachy
land, I would unhesitatingly take the former, and I would overcome its
native unfitness by the following methods: If at all inclined to be
wet, as would be natural from its tenacious texture, I should first
underdrain it thoroughly with tile. Then, if I found a fair amount of
vegetable matter, I would give it a dressing of air-slaked lime, and
plow it deeply late in the fall, leaving it unharrowed so as to expose
as much of the soil as possible to the action of frost. Early in the
spring, as soon as the ground was dry enough to work and all danger of