The vegetable garden

Front matter

VEGETABLE GARDEN

DA. D.BENNETT

Class S t^^7-\

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. The Sanitary and Economic Value of the

Kitchen Garden 3

Chapter One

THE SANITARY AND ECONOMIC VALUE OF THE KITCHEN GARDEN rvECENT legislation has focused public attention in no small degree upon the subject of pure food. Just what goes into the composition of the food we eat is becoming more and more a matter of inquiry by the consumer. It is doubtful, however, if the law requiring the constituents of tinned goods and sealed packages to be printed on the outside of the packages meets the full requirements of the case. It is probable that quite as much adulterated food is sold as at any time previous to the passage of the law. JMany manufacturers rely upon the proneness of people to accept a thing as a fact without the trouble of personal investigation. Few people, it may be supposed, take the trouble to read the labels on the goods they buy, at least not until they are delivered at the house, and it is doubtful if the few who do take the precaution are much wiser for their pains. The botanical and scientific names of the various adulterants convey little or no meaning to the average consumer. Still, anything in tin that has come through the government inspections and the wide publicity given the unsavoury details by the press of the country, is looked upon with a certain amount of suspicion by the general public.

The result of this suspicion has been to increase, in no small degree, the consumption of fresh fruits and vegetables by all classes. One naturally has confidence in anything which comes to her in its original form. It does not seem possible for anything to be other than it seems, and of this class of products the most inexperienced housewife feels confident to judge. If a cabbage is clean and bright — the outer leaves green and fresh, the inside fresh and crisp — what more could one ask? Well, to the initiated there does sometimes arise a question as to how all this immaculate crispness and freedom from the trail of the worm was attained. After even a few years' experience in the growing of cabbages and allied plants, one comes to know that their growing on any large scale, especially on old land, is not the simple or always

the cleanly thing it seems.

VALUE OF THE KITCHEN GARDEN

It is safe to assume that the average farmer and market gardener who raises cabbages for market is fairly conscientious in his methods. But this is not true of all, and it is not an unknown thing to hear of isolated cases where Paris green has been used freely after the heads are set on both cabbage and cauliflowers.

The use of Paris green on potatoes is an established practice, unavoidably so on plantings of any extent. All the products of the vine — cucumbers, squash, and melons — are subject to more or less ** doping " at the hands of the professional, and currants, gooseberries, and grapes do not always escape their share of the death-dealing chemicals. Now there is little doubt that much of the applications used are, when applied early in the growth of the plant, ere yet it has set its fruit or formed a head, is harmless, but after a plant has made advanced growth, it is certainly the part of wisdom to keep it as near harmless to the human digestive tract as possible.

Anyone who has watched the action of the various insecticides, which may be plant poisons that kill the plants on which they are sprayed by entering into the circulation and destroying root and all, cannot but wonder how far the usual insecticides, especially the arsenates, may go in the circulation of the plants to which they are applied. There are certain plant-poisons — herbicides — on the market which it is claimed will kill out scrub oak, burdock, Canada thistle, and like persistent perennial growths; whether it does it or not, the fact remains that plants have the power of absorbing and carrying through the sap circulation to a limited degree foreign matter applied upon the surface.

It is considerations like this which make the growing of one's own kitchen vegetables so desirable, for though it may be practically necessary for the large grower to employ the aid of various poisons in order to produce a crop of any or many specific vegetables, on the restricted area of the home garden in many cases it is neither necessary nor desirable.

There is another point that has weight with the careful housewife — that of perfect cleanliness. If vegetables look clean and fresh one is apt to infer that they are fresh from the garden. This may be anything but the case. Market gardeners are not independent of time and seasons any mor^

VALUE OF THE KITCHEN GARDEN than the rest of mankind, and often find their crop ripening in advance of the market; especially is this the case in small cities or country towns, and the vegetables bought as fresh may have lain in the cellar of the gardener or green grocer for a week or more, and finally been sorted out from a heap of decaying matter and given a bath to make them presentable for offering for sale.

Much of the garden stuff offered in the open market or peddled from door to door was gathered the day before or even earlier and hauled long distances in an uncovered waggon over a dusty road, and we all know of what the dust of the road is composed, afterwards to lie exhibited on open stalls in markets or in front of stores, exposed to the flies or the attentions of every passing dog — and the benches are seldom above highwater mark — and the unspeakable dust and filth of the streets.

All this bids one pause when tempted to order one's daily supply of fresh vegetables from one's local grocer. Certainly it should, if one has a bit of land at command and the strength and ambition to work it or even the will to hire it worked, for there is profit, real and realisable profit, in the growing of one's own vegetables. Profit of health and of pocket for the expense of a small kitchen garden, properly managed, is light, the returns certain and enjoyable.

There are no vegetables like those which come wet with the morning dew from one's own garden to grace the breakfast table with the toothsome crispness of the scarlet radish or the fresh coolness of lettuce. Sweet corn, when detached from the parent stalk and has felt the heat of the day, loses half its sweetness; and peas have a delicate flavour easily impaired by lying in heaps, even though in a cool place.

To my mind there is nothing more disheartening on a marketing expedition than the sight of the limp vegetables exposed for sale, and it must indeed be a dearth in the family larder which induces me to purchase.

As to the expense incurred in growing one's own vegetables, it will be found comprised for the main part in the fitting of the land for planting and the trifling outlay for seeds. All varieties of seed, with the exception of peas, are of small cost. The usual five- or ten-cent packets of most kinds will be found ample. Where more than this amount

VALUE OF THE KITCHEN GARDEN is required, it will be well to buy it by the ounce. By first measuring the ground and then studying those catalogues which give the quantity of seed required to plant a given area — as an hundred feet of drill — one can estimate very closely the exact amount required of any variety. Of course where this is done one must calculate on purchasing good seed of reliable dealers, planting it properly and giving the plants suitable culture after they are up. One must not sow it in any haphazard way and expect good results.

It is very rarely that one family will find use for all the products of a garden, be it ever so small, and, if one is so inclined, the surplus will find ready sale among one's neighbours. Especially is this the case with the early plants from the hotbeds. A very good plan, when one wishes a great variety of vegetables and has but a limited amount of room in which to grow them, is to arrange with a neighbour to co-operate in the garden work and each take certain things. His land, perhaps, may seem more suited for, or he have more knowledge of the culture of certain plants; then let him grow of these enough for both gardens, while you undertake those which he does not grow. This insures a great variety of vegetables at the minimum amount of work and outlay. Possibly your neighbour's land is a little wet and low and well adapted to the growing of cabbage and cauliflowers, while yours may be a warm, sandy loam, especially suited to grow melons, or you may have turned under a piece of sod land which is not sufficiently tractable for growing root crops or those needing close cultivation, but will do admirably for corn or potatoes, while his ground may have been in cultivation for years and in so fine a state of tilth as to answer admirably for onions, radishes, lettuce, and the like.

Again, your neighbour may have a horse and be able to do the greater part of his work with it, while your ground must be cultivated by hand; it will then pay best if he shall undertake the growing of larger crops, which may best be handled with a horse cultivator. Corn, cabbage, cauliflowers, potatoes, and such vegetables, which are usually planted three feet apart, may be worked to advantage this way, while the smaller vegetables — carrots, onions, peas, parsnips, and tomatoes, which sprawl so that it is difficult to work among

them with a horse after they have made much

VALUE OF THE KITCHEN GARDEN growth — are better handled with the hand cultivator or even with a hoe. ^

Again, it pays from a physical standpoint of view. Did we cultivate more assiduously our back-yard gardens, those of us whose daily grind chains us fast to a bell or whistle or even an office clock, there would be fewer nervous breakdowns. It is curious how our cares drop away from our poor fagged minds when we get out in touch with the good brown earth. It must be a deep-seated trouble, indeed, which will not lift ever so little when the robin's song is in the air and the sweet, moist smell of the soil comes up after a rain. To possess the land and till it is the primal heritage of man. To delight in the work of his hands, the reward which beckons him.

Chapter Two The Location Of The Garden

1 HIS is a point which admits of httle discussion or advice, as, in the majority of cases, circmnstances decide this arbitrarily. Especially is this the case where the only land at command is comprised in the narrow confines of a city back yard or the somewhat more generous area of a suburban lot.

But in the country, where land is abundant, the only restrictive condition is that it should be near the house, so that it may be easily worked and cared for, especially if much of this care must devolve upon the women of the family, as is often the case on the farm. Given here a measure of choice of location, it will be well to select a bit of land well drained and exposed to the sunshine the greater part of the day. The near presence of trees is to be avoided, as these not only furnish more shade than is desirable, but the roots — which extend in all directions over an area equal to the spread of tops — drain all the moisture and much of the nourishment from the soil, much to the detriment of any crop which may be planted in their immediate vicinity.

Low, wet land should be avoided unless it can be thoroughly drained, in which case it often makes excellent garden land. I have such a spot on my own land which for a number of years was too wet to work to advantage in any but very dry seasons, and in the spring thaws and after every hard summer rain was under water for a foot or more. Finally after losing a dozen fine Brahma fowls (which had been shut up in a temporary coop to break them of setting) by a sudden summer rain, which flooded all of that part of the premises, it was drained by the very simple and inexpensive expedient of digging a deep hole, six feet deep and five feet in diameter, and filling this up with all sorts of rubbish from about the place — old tins, broken crockery, and the like. This proved perfectly successful and no trouble has been experienced since, the ground being in shape to work but a few days later than the rest of the garden and not delaying cultivation to any extent at any time during the remainder of the summer. It has been found an excellent place for the growing of cabbage and cauliflowers, which have now been grown there several years in succession without any sign of club-foot or much of any damage from the cabbage worm.

Of course this bit of land is underlaid with gravel. With a clay subsoil it might be necessary to employ more scientific drainage, and the laying of porous tile be found necessary.

Clay land does not make an ideal garden soil. A good warm loam, well overlaid with humus — decayed vegetable matter — is the best soil in which to grow garden stuff, but a stiff clay soil may be made to produce good results by heavy manuring and underdraining, but will not warrant the expense if other and better soil is available. The point to be considered in selecting garden soil is to choose that which will grow the greatest variety of vegetables with the least expenditure of labor and fertilisers. There are very few vegetables but what may be grown to a point of perfection satisfactory for the home garden, though they might not produce in quantities to make them remunerative for a market garden where much more is expected of the soil than in private places. Certain soils, like well-drained marsh lands, are ideal for certain vegetables, such as celery, cabbage, and the like, but less valuable for general use.

On the small village lot one must, perforce, take what one has, and it is doubtful if there is any bit of land but what may be made, under careful management, to produce a fair amount of vegetation. The fertility of a small area of land is so easily increased that no plot of land need be considered hopeless on that score. The mechanical condition is more apt to cause trouble. When a piece of land has been used for a dumping heap for years, probably beginning with the erection of the house, when all the excavated subsoil was dumped upon the ground and levelled off instead of being carted away, as it should have been, and succeeding years have left their accumulation of ashes, rubbish, and old cans to further injure the soil, there does not seem to be much to do, especially if the first deposit consists, as it probably does, of gravel and hardpan, but to first remove all rubbish and then to dig up the surface dirt down to the original soil and have the refuse carted away. As there is always a demand for dirt for grading in

a place of any size, the expense of digging up the dirt will usually be all that is entailed, as some one can always be found to haul it away for it.

There is one condition to be considered, however, in this method of restoring the soil, and that is the grade. If this is high enough to allow of the removal of any considerable amount of earth, well and good, but if not, fresh earth must be brought in to take its place. However, the ploughing and fertilising of the soil will raise the grade considerably, and land that at first may appear too low will, in the course of two or three years' cultivation, have quite recovered its usual grade.

The proneness of land to rise has been well demonstrated on my own place, where the house stands on a knoll, the ground sloping away in all directions, and should, for this reason, afford a perfectly dry house and cellar. The contrary, however, is true, owing to the fact that several years ago the sod was broken around the foundations of the house for the planting of vines and shrubbery. As the soil about foundations is never very suitable for the growing of plants, fresh earth was added from the compost heap and garden, much of the poor soil being first removed. Subsequent top dressings of soil and fertilisers has resulted in

SO marked a rise in the grade of the ground as to permit the water to run in at the cellar windows during spring thaws and summer storms; as a result, we find it will be necessary to cut the sod in narrow strips and roll it back for a distance of twenty feet or more; lay aside the surface soil, and remove about six inches of the subsoil and replace the surface soil and the sod and roll it thoroughly with the lawn roller. This is the one serious objection to " base plantings " about the house or outbuildings — its tendency to raise the grade of the land.

It has been said that the near presence of trees is to be avoided in the garden, but the comfort and convenience of working it will be greatly enhanced by the presence of a shed or other building on the north side, where one can store the necessary tools, do much of the indoor work connected with gardening, cleaning vegetables, and the like, or take shelter in a sudden shower. Such a building will afford a suitable location for the construction of hotbeds and coldframes, as well as affording temporary quarters for vegetables, which may need to be gathered in advance of a sudden cold snap. It will also be found invaluable for drying and ripening off such vegetables as are to be stored in the cellar for winter use. A scaffolding of lath, erected just out of the way of one's head, will be found invaluable for drying onions, and will double the capacity of the shed.

Another feature of moment in the selection of a garden site is the nearness and availability of the water supply. Where one has city water the problem is simple — the water maj'^ be carried to the garden; but where this does not exist the garden must be carried to the well or a home system of water established. This may be accomplished satisfactorily by the erection of a wind-mill operated through a three-way pump, which will convey water to any point in the ground. Even the mill may be dispensed with and water carried to a stand pipe supplied with a hose and nozzle, whence it may be distributed about the garden as needed. It is necessarj^ however, in installing a force pump of any make to know just what you are getting, and not find one's self encumbered with a pump which it is a punishment to work or one with insufficient force to throw a reasonable stream of water.

The presence of a shed and a water supjDly ad- [18]

jacent will be found of the greatest convenience to the housewife, who can there prepare the vegetables for the table, doing away with much dirt about the kitchen and the subsequent disposal of the tops, husks, and other refuse.

There is one more point to notice in connection with the kitchen garden, and that is that it should be as widely separated from the hennery as possible. The presence of a high fence of chicken netting as a dividing line is not sufficient, though it is a distinct gain on chickens running at large. But for perfect immunity from the encroachments of Mistress Biddy it is best to begin with the youngsters and, by keeping temptation out of their way, nip in the bud any embryo inclination to revel in one's softest garden beds. Where the hen park adjoins the garden the little chicks, which can easily pass through the meshes of the netting, form the habit of working there, and the first move they make in the morning will be through the fence into the garden. I do not think that at this stage they do any harm; sometimes I have thought their presence a benefit, so many are the bugs and worms they destroy, and they aid materially

in the cultivation of the larger vegetables — cauliflowers, cabbage, tomatoes, and the like — but are destructive, indeed, to the tender leaves of the lettuce, and as the garden advances and tomatoes and melons ripen, they can be trusted to peck everything as it ripens. Moreover, having formed the garden habit it is nearly impossible to break them of it, and fences that were considered chickentight apparently form no barrier to them. I have repeatedly seen Plymouth Rocks and American Reds climb up a wire netting by hooking their claws into the meshes, balance a moment on the top wire, and fly triumphantly down into the forbidden land. Chickens which have never been allowed in the garden seldom make serious trouble in confinement.

The past summer I have been greatly puzzled to learn how certain half -grown American Reds gained access to the garden, past a six-foot board fence and a five-foot wire netting, but the mystery was solved when I found that they were climbing from branch to branch of a mulberry tree on the park side of the fence, until they had reached a sufficiently high altitude, when they flew down on, or over, the fence.

A flock of BuflP Rocks, which came of stock [20]

which had always been confined, have evinced not the shghtest inchnation to stray, but stay contentedly in their park, coming up en masse each night to be fed. Yet I feel not a shadow of a doubt that had their parents been brought up on my own premises their offspring would have proven as predatory as the descendants of my own hens.

This may seem a far call from the subject, but it is a point which is likely to be called to the attention of the gardener in a very forcible manner any fine summer day, when he finds, as I did the past summer, his bed of prize lettuce, or other product of his tender care, practically exterminated by a few moments' visit of a flock of chickens. However, I can assure him he will not feel half as bad about it as he would had they been his neighbours' chickens.

Chapter Three Planning The Garden

1 HE work of planning the garden — inasmuch as it consists in deciding what and how much we shall plant and where we shall plant it — may very well be done long in advance of the season of active operations. Indeed, it is a distinct and pleasurable advantage to make the long winter evenings supplement the long summer days by devoting a portion of them to the seed catalogues and other garden literature.

The selection of varieties of vegetables to grow should be largely influenced by those which form one's daily fare throughout the season. Vegetables which are seldom purchased — unless it be because of their high price or scarcity — may not profitably be cultivated in the home garden. But in the case of high-priced products, then the home garden demonstrates its economic value as enabling one to indulge in otherwise unattainable luxuries. Plainly,

PLANNING THE GARDEN then, one should grow in abundance those things of which most consumption is made. There will be a demand for those vegetables which come earliest in spring — rhubarb, asparagus, radishes, lettuce, and such quick-growing things; and for vegetables which may be stored in the cellar to increase the none-too-generous variety of the winter larder — potatoes, parsnips, carrots, squash, and the like. Sweet corn, beans, peas, and beets, especially those for early greens, cabbage, cauliflower, and tomatoes, will be indispensable summer products which must be provided for.

A little study of the catalogues or of the instructions under the heading of various vegetables will show the height of these, the period at which they are in season, and the distance apart they should be planted, and this data will furnish the necessary information as to quantity of seed or number of plants required for a given area.

If the land devoted to the kitchen garden is comprised in the boundaries of a city lot the arrangement will, necessarily, be somewhat different than that which would prevail in the country, where the garden occupies more ground and is more or less retired from observation. On the city lot it is always, to the family, at least, in evidence, and should be made as attractive as possible. This may best be achieved by planting the more ornamental vegetables in front and relegating the tallest and the least ornamental to the rear.

On the limited area of a village lot it will not be expedient to grow vegetables which require so large an amount of room as pumpkins, squash, and melons, but room should be found for a hill or two of cucumbers in order that one may possess these appetising fruits at their best. I have grown very good cucumbers — and melons, too, by the way — on the hen-park fence, thus not only producing a crop from a strip of land not readily available for other purposes but affording some useful shade for the poultry yard. A post or two set anywhere convenient, with a length of netting stretched from post to post, may take the place of the fence, or they may be grown against the side of a building.

The growing of this class of vegetables on netting is perfectly rational; Nature has provided the vines with clinging tendrils and evidently intended them to be used. The stems of all of this class of

plants are quite strong enough to support the fruit

PLANNING THE GARDEN until it is perfectly ripe, when it drops of its own accord, and thus furnishes a sure guide for its harvest. Moreover, melons and cucumbers grown on netting are far more attractive in appearance than when grown on the ground, as they are not soiled, stained, discoloured, or rotted by contact with the earth. The difference in appearance between pickles grown on netting and those grown on the ground is marked indeed, the former being beautifully green and bright, and if they were grown in sufficient quantities to be marketed, there would nothing sell against them. I do not think they bear quite as freely as when grown on the ground, but then I have never given them the extra culture that would produce the highest results. If well cultivated throughout the season, and watered and supplied with weekly doses of liquid manure, the returns would doubtless be highly satisfactory, and this extra labour would be far less than that involved in gathering the fruit from the ground.

The back-yard fence of an ordinary lot will furnish sufficient room for the growing of all the vegetables of this sort needed by a small family,

and a strip about three feet wide should be spaded along the fence and thoroughly manured; afterwards it will be well to mix a large spadeful of manure and a spoonful of phosphate in each hill prepared for cucumbers, melons, or squash. Between these hills, which will be from four to six feet apart, beets for early greens, radishes, lettuce, string beans, early peas, onions for use green, corn salad, mustard, endive, spinach, parsley, and any herbs may be planted, as most of these things are of quick growth and are usually planted for a succession throughout the summer at intervals of a few weeks, and where the space does not admit of but two or three varieties, those which mature early should be planted first, and when they have been used the ground may be cleared and a fall crop started.

By planning to use such available space for these early things, they are gotten out of the way of the main crop and the garden proper left for things which require the entire season to mature.

A good broad path will be advisable down through the centre of the garden for convenience in working, and a narrower one along the sides, if this part is to be planted as suggested. It \^^ll be more convenient in cultivating if the lines of vege-

PLANNING THE GARDEN tables run straight across the garden. This is especially to be advised if an attempt to use a horse in caring for it is to be made, and even where the work is to be done with a hand cultivator this will be the most economical arrangement of space and labour.

If the land runs east and west the taller plantings should be on the north, so that the light will not be shut off from the lower growing vegetables. Corn grows so much taller than anything else cultivated that it should, if possible, be placed in the rear. In front of it the few hills of early potatoes which it is possible to grow on a city lot may be planted, as they are the least ornamental of vegetables.