The next chapter will treat of small fruits, beginning with the raspberry.

CHAPTER V

THE RASPBERRY

The wide and favorable consideration given to small fruits clearly marks one of the changes in the world’s history.  This change may seem trifling indeed to the dignified chroniclers of kings and queens and others of high descent—­great descent, it may be added, remembering the moral depths attained; but to those who care for the welfare of the people, it is a mutation of no slight interest.  I am glad to think, as has been shown in a recent novel, that Lucrezia Borgia was not so black as she has been painted; yet in the early days of June and July, when strawberries and raspberries are ripening, I fancy that most of us can dismiss her and her kin from mind as we observe Nature’s alchemy in our gardens.  When we think of the luscious, health-imparting fruits which will grace millions of tables, and remember that until recent years they were conspicuous only by their absence, we may not slightingly estimate a great change for the better.  Once these fruits were wildings which the vast majority of our forefathers shared sparingly with the birds.  Often still, unless we are careful, our share will be small indeed; for the unperverted taste of the birds discovered from the first what men have been so slow to learn—­that the ruby-like berries are the gems best worth seeking.  The world is certainly progressing toward physical redemption when even the Irish laborer abridges his cabbage-patch for the sake of small fruits—­food which a dainty Ariel could not despise.

We have said that raspberries thrive in partial shade; and therefore some advice in regard to them naturally follows our consideration of trees.  Because the raspberry is not so exacting as are many other products of the garden, it does not follow that it should be marked out for neglect.  As it is treated on many places, the only wonder is that even the bushes survive.  Like many who try to do their best in adversity, it makes the most of what people term “a chance to get ahead.”

Moreover, the raspberry is perhaps as often injured by mistaken kindness as by neglect.  If we can imagine it speaking for itself, it would say:  “It is not much that I want, but in the name of common-sense and nature give me just what I do want; then you may pick at me to your heart’s content.”

The first need of the raspberry is a well-drained but not a very dry, light soil.  Yet such is its adaptability that certain varieties can be grown on any land which will produce a burdock or a mullien-stalk.  In fact, this question of variety chiefly determines our chances of success and the nature of our treatment of the fruit.  The reader, at the start, should be enabled to distinguish the three classes of raspberries grown in this country.