Success with Small Fruits

by Edward Payson Roe

But many can not resist the rollicking music back of the paying booth. Three sable musicians form the orchestra, and from a bass viol, fiddle and fife they extract melody that, with all its short-coming, would make a deacon wish to dance. Any one, white or black, can purchase the privilege of keeping step to the music for two cents, or one strawberry ticket. Business was superb, and every shade of color and character was represented. In the vernacular of the farm, the mulatto girls are called "strawberry blondes," and one that would have attracted attention anywhere was led out by a droll, full-blooded negro, who would have made the fortune of a minstrel troupe. She was tall and willowy. A profusion of dark hair curled about an oval face, not too dark to prevent a faint color of the strawberry from glowing in her cheeks. She wore neither hat nor shoes, but was as unembarrassed, apparently, in her one close-fitting garment, as could be any ballroom belle dressed in the latest mode. Another blonde, who sported torn slippers and white stockings, was in danger of being spoiled by much attention. As a rule, however, bare feet were nothing against a "lady" in the estimation of the young men. At any rate, all who could spare a berry ticket speedily found a partner, and, as we rode away from the farm, the last sounds were those of music and merriment, and our last glimpse was of the throng of dancers on the green.

The confused uproar and rush of business around the Old Dominion steamship made a marked contrast. To the ample wharves every species of vehicle had been coming all day, while all kinds of craft, from a skiff to a large two-masted schooner, waiting their turn to discharge their freight of berry crates and garden produce, reached half across the Elizabeth river. The rumble of the trucks was almost like the roar of thunder, as scores of negroes hustled crates, barrels and boxes aboard. Most of the time they were on a good round trot, and one had to pick his way with care; for, apparently, the truck was as thoughtful as the trundler.

As the long twilight fades utterly into night, the last crate is aboard. The dusky forms of the stevedores are seen in an old pontoon-shaped boat on their way to Portsmouth, but their outlines, and the melody of their rude song, are soon lost in the distance. The ship, that has become like a huge section of Washington Market, casts off her lines, and away we steam, diffusing on the night air the fragrance of a thousand acres, more or less, of strawberries.

It was late in the night that followed the next day before we reached New York, but on the great covered wharf, to which was given a noonday glare by electric light, there was no suggestion of the darkness and rain without. Various numbers, prominent on the sides of the building, indicated the lines of transit and the commission houses to which the immense, indiscriminate cargo was assigned. With a heavy jar and rumble that would not cease till the ship was empty, a throng of white laborers wheel each package to its proper place. Mr. Young's crates soon grew into what seemed, in the distance, a good-sized mound. The number above them stood for Eldridge & Carpenter, West Washington Market. Thither we followed them the next morning, but found that the most of them had already been scattered throughout the city, and realized that the berries we had seen a few hours before on the strawberry farm were even then on uptown breakfast-tables.

CHAPTER XVII

FORCING STRAWBERRIES UNDER GLASS

Trained gardeners need no instruction from me on this topic. There may be those, however, who have never given the subject attention, and who would be glad to learn some of the first principles of success in forcing this fruit for market; while a still larger number, having small conservatories and warm south windows, would be pleased to see a few strawberries blossoming and ripening, as an earnest of the coming June. There are no greater difficulties in the way than in having flowers, for it is merely a question of doing the right thing at the right time. I do not believe in a system of minute, arbitrary directions, so much as in the clear statement of a few general principles that will suggest what ought to be done. The strawberry plant has the same character indoors as out, and this fact alone, in view of what has been written, should suggest moisture, coolness, light, and air. I shall endeavor to present, however, each successive step.

First, prepare a compost of thoroughly rotted sods and the cleanings of the cow-stable, in the proportion of three parts sod-mould to one of manure. In the place of sods, decayed leaves, muck, sweetened by a year's exposure to air and frost, or any good, rich loam will answer. With this compost, made fine and clean by passing it through a coarse sieve, fill in June, and not later than July, as many three-inch pots as you desire; then sink them to their rims along the sides of the rows from which you propose to obtain winter-bearing plants. Varieties best adapted for forcing are those of a low, stocky growth, bearing perfect flowers and sweet or high-flavored berries. I should say the Triomphe de Gand was the best, and I observe that it and the La Constante, which it closely resembles, are highly recommended abroad. The bush Alpines are said to do finely, and I should think the Black Defiance would answer well. Mr. Henderson speaks highly of the Champion, which, however, must be grown with a perfect-flowered kind, since it is a pistillate. From the parent row, guide the first runners so that they will take root in the pots. Let each runner form but a single, strong plant, which it will do in about two weeks, filling the pot with roots. Then these plants, with their accompanying balls of earth interlaced with roots, are ready to be shifted into pots of from six to eight inches in diameter, which also should be filled with the compost already described.

These larger pots should have three or four pieces of broken pottery in the bottom for drainage. One plant to each pot is sufficient, and the soil should be pressed firmly about the roots. The methods of growers now differ somewhat, but all agree in seeking to promote a continuous and healthy growth. It may be necessary to place the pots in a half-shady position for a few days, till the effects of shifting are over, and the roots have taken hold of the new soil. Then they should stand in an open, airy position, close together, where they can receive daily attention. Some recommend that they stand on boards, flagging, or bricks, or a layer of coal ashes, since earth-worms are thus kept out; others sink them in cold frames, where they can be protected somewhat from excessive heat and drenching storms; while others, still, sink the pots in the open ground, where it is convenient to care for and water them. It is obvious that moisture must be steadily and continuously maintained, and the plants be made to do their best until about the first of October. After this, they should be watered very sparingly—barely kept moist—since it is now our aim to ripen the foliage and roots and induce a season of rest. At the same time, they should not be permitted to dry out. About the first of November, an old hot-bed pit can be filled with dry leaves and the pots plunged in them, close together, up to their rims, and, as the season grows colder, the tops can be covered, so as to prevent the earth in the pots from freezing. The top of the pit can be covered with boards to keep out the wet, but not so tightly as to exclude the air. Our aim is to keep the plants dormant, and yet a little above freezing, and barely moist enough to prevent the slightest shrivelling. Since it requires from ten to fourteen weeks to mature the fruit under glass, it would be well to subject some of the plants to heat early in October, so as to have ripe berries at the holidays. They can thereafter be taken from the storage place every two or three weeks, so as to secure a succession. By this course, also, if a mishap befalls one lot of plants, there still remain several chances for winter fruit.

In the forcing process, follow nature. The plants do not start suddenly in spring, but gradually awaken into life. The weather, also, is comparatively cool when they are blossoming. If these hints are not taken in the green-house, there may be much promise but little fruit. If the heat is turned on too rapidly when the plants begin to bloom, the calyx and corolla will probably develop properly, but the stamens will be destitute of pollen, while the pistils, the most complicated part of the flower, and that which requires the longest time for perfect formation, become "a mere tuft of abortions, incapable of quickening, and shrivelling into pitch-black threads as soon as fully in contact with the air." Let the conditions within-doors accord as far as possible with those under the open sky. The roots require coolness, continuous and evenly maintained moisture. One check from over-dryness may cause serious and lasting injury. The foliage needs air and light in abundance. Therefore the pots should be on shelves close to the glass; otherwise the leaf and fruit stalks will be drawn and spindling. If the pot can be shaded while the plant is in full light, all the better. When first introduced, the temperature should not exceed 45 degrees or 50 degrees. Air must be freely admitted at all times, though much less will suffice, of course, in cold than in warm weather. Watch the foliage, and if it begins to grow long and without substance, give more air and less heat. An average of 55 degrees to 70 degrees by day may be allowed, and from 45 degrees to 50 degrees by night.