My Experiences in the Improvement of Plants: Beyond the Dahlia

Published in the Eagle Rock Advertiser as “My Experiences in the Improvement of Plants” (1933–1934)

By J. J. Broomall

Part Two of Two · February 1–May 3, 1934

Original text by J. J. Broomall is in the public domain. Compilation, editorial notes, introduction, biography, and revised text copyright © 2026 by Steve K. Lloyd. All rights reserved.

With Part 9, My Experiences in the Improvement of Plants changes scale. The dahlia no longer supplies the principal subject. Broomall turns first to trees and shrubs that compete with a small garden, then to alfalfa and memories of his railroad years, unsuccessful attempts to grow tropical fruits, cherimoyas and sapotes, soil and water conservation, figs, loquats, avocado seedlings, seed behavior, and finally his own experiments with fig seed.

The change is substantial, but it is not a departure from the purpose Broomall announced when the series began. In Part 1 he had described the dahlia as the plant that awakened him to the possibilities of improving other plants, especially those of economic value. The later installments make that wider interest visible. They also bring the autobiographical element of the series increasingly to the surface: a discussion of alfalfa becomes a recollection of building the Santa Fe through New Mexico; accounts of fruit trees become records of Broomall’s successes, failures, experiments, and changing judgments in his own Eagle Rock garden.

This is therefore Part Two only in the present reader-facing arrangement. Historically it remains the continuation of the same incomplete series, so the surviving original numbering begins here with Part 9 and continues through Part 15. The six surviving installments from March 29 through May 3 are unnumbered in the sources and remain unnumbered here. No “Parts 16–21” have been invented.

There is no surviving installment dated March 1, 1934; as with the December 28 gap in Part One, this does not by itself establish that a numbered installment is missing. More importantly, the final surviving installment, May 3, ends “(Continued Next Thursday).” The right edge of the series is therefore open. What followed, if anything survives elsewhere, has not been recovered for this edition, and no editorial conclusion has been supplied.

Part 9 — February 1, 1934

There are some trees and shrubs that should never be planted on a 50-foot lot. I will mention a few of these and endeavor to explain why they are undesirable where your ground space is limited. One of the most unsuitable trees I know of in this country is the Lombardy poplar botanically known as “Populus fastigiata”. While this tree grows tall and does not take up so much room above ground the roots run out for a long distance, and throw up innumerable suckers in cultivated ground and the young trees so produced would soon turn a garden into a popular [sic] forest if one did not keep continually digging them up. There is a short row of these trees growing near my fence, and young trees are coming up in the garden more than forty feet from the fence. I have an idea that the planter of those poplars is entirely ignorant of the fact that they are drawing valuable plant food and moisture from my land, to say nothing of work that is necessary to keep them in subjection.

Another objection to the Lombardy poplar here is that they shed their foliage early in the fall and the denuded branches sticking high up in the air during the winter certainly do not add anything to the attractiveness of a country where we boast of a mild climate and never ending verdure. Alas the poplar.

Another well known and quite popular tree that I would place on the “black list” is the Pepper tree. I will admit that the female trees are very handsome when covered with festoons of bright red berries, but Pepper trees either male or female are entirely out of place on a small lot, that is if you desire to succeed in growing anything else on the lot.

The proper name of the California Pepper tree is Schinus Molle. It is a native of Peru. It is not a true pepper at all and far removed from the pepper of commerce, although the leaves of Schinus Molle when bruised give forth an odor somewhat similar to the smell of black pepper. There are several reasons why the pepper tree (Schinus Molle) should not be planted here. In the first place they are such rampant growers that they will soon take possession of a lot to the exclusion of about everything else. Worse still they become a harbor for injurious insects, among others the black scale, and the pepper trees soon get to be so large that it becomes entirely impractical to destroy the insects either by spraying or fumigation.

It is true that they are very drought resistant, as they make such a huge root system that they absorb about all the moisture for quite a distance around them. There are plenty of fine ornamental trees that do not have so many objectionable features so why plant the Pepper tree?

It may be of interest to the reader to learn that the pepper of commerce (Piper nigrum) is a climbing vine, a native of tropical countries. It has been grown at Santa Barbara, but the berries from which our black pepper is made will not mature in Southern California.

Another plant to be avoided is the wild tobacco shrub (Nicotiana glauca). It is a native of South America but has escaped from cultivation in Texas and California, and has become a regular nuisance in this part of the country. The cyclopedia says it is easily grown from seed. I should say so: if you once allow it to produce seed, you will never get rid of it. Having been introduced as an ornamental shrub it has long since outgrown its welcome. If you have one on your place do not allow it to go to seed, but more important still don't plant it.

Last but not least in my list of undesirables I will mention the Wigandia. This is a strong growing shrub reaching almost tree-like proportions in good soil. When in bloom in the spring the large panicles of purple flowers attract much attention, and are greatly admired, sometimes used for decorating, but the prickly nature of the stems and leaves make it disagreeable to handle. It is one of the worst plants to produce suckers I know of, and requires a lot of labor to keep it in subjection, for if allowed to spread undisturbed it would soon take the place. This rather unusual shrub was growing on my two acre lot when I came here, and it will be growing here when I leave, but don't plant it unless you are fond of work, for the Wigandia will give you plenty.

Part 10 — February 8, 1934

A student of plant life desiring to find out more about some particular plant is quite often liable to be surprised to find out that the proper name of the plant (that is the Botanical name) will in many cases be vastly different from the name it is commonly known by.

Some time ago I was asked to spell “Alfalfa.” After I had spelled it I looked in the Dictionary to make sure I had spelled it correctly. I found that I had done so, and I also found out that Alfalfa is “Lucerne.” Being anxious to know more about Lucerne I looked it up in the Encyclopedia of Horticulture (Bailey's) where I find the Botanical name of Lucerne is “Medicago sativa” so named because it was a native of Media in western Asia. Which reminds me that once upon a time, 1875-76, I lived in Media. The Media of my acquaintance was not in Asia but in Pennsylvania.

The International Encyclopedia gives many interesting facts concerning Alfalfa, a few of which I will quote: “It is a native of the valleys of western central Asia; it has been cultivated in Europe for more than 2000 years. [quotation appears to be complete as shown, except for the missing trailing quotation mark]

(Continued Next Thursday)

Part 11 — February 15, 1934

(Continued from Thursday)

Alfalfa was introduced to Mexico, and South America at the time of the Spanish Conquests. In 1854 it was brought from Chile to California. On loose permeable soils the tap root descends ten to twelve feet and has been said to reach even fifty feet.

No wonder that Alfalfa, alias Lucerne, alias Medicago sativa, is drought resistant to a remarkable degree, for if there is any moisture within reach the roots of this valuable forage plant will surely get it. In the East where the writer learned about farming, Alfalfa was not grown, as Red Clover is the leading forage plant near the Atlantic Coast.

It was not until 1880 when I was doing “my bit” towards helping to build the Santa Fe R.R. through New Mexico that I first became intimately acquainted with Alfalfa, and then I had a sort of an impromptu wrestling match with it, and part of the time Alfalfa got the best of me.

Near Las Cruces the line of the right-of-way ran through an Alfalfa meadow, and we had to scrape the earth necessary for the “fill” from a “borrow-pit” that was full of growing Alfalfa.

The roots of that Alfalfa were so numerous, and so large and tough that it required all my skill and strength to get my scraper full of dirt without having it tip over prematurely. This was extremely bad for my temper and was also hard on the mules. When a scraper strikes something immovable one had either to let go of the scraper handles or risk being hurled against the mule’s hind legs, which I did not consider a very healthy proceeding.

I don't know how far down those roots went in the borrow-pit. Most of them were there when we finished the fill, and they can stay there as far as I am concerned. Since that experience I am willing to believe anything I read or hear about Alfalfa et al.

However this useful forage plant is very valuable, especially in semiarid countries, not only as feed for cattle and farm animals in general but also as a fertilizer, and few plants equal it as a soil enrichener as the following extracts from an authority will show: “Alfalfa like other leguminous plants takes up nitrogen from the air. It also brings up from the subsoil considerable amounts of potash, phosphoric acid, lime and other mineral matter and is valuable for green manuring”; (this I have learned from experience.)

“The roots and stubble from an acre of Alfalfa contain about twenty pounds of phosphoric acid, thirty-eight pounds of potash and ninety pounds of nitrogen.” Hence I can forgive it for making me work so hard when I was driving a scraper team on the Santa Fe.

Part 12 — February 22, 1934

Seed and plant catalogues for 1934 now being sent out contain glowing descriptions of many new varieties of plants, as well as greatly improved forms of plants that have long been in cultivation.

It is quite probable that greater progress is being made in the improvement of plants now than ever before, and many of the new introductions being offered justify all that is being claimed for them, yet it would be as well for Amateur Gardeners to be rather cautious about investing too heavily in new or untried novelties, for there are some that are liable to prove disappointing and discouraging, resulting in a waste of time and money.

This applies in particular to some of the tropical and sub-tropical plants, some of which are most desirable and deserve all the praise bestowed upon them, but cannot be successfully grown in Eagle Rock because our climate is not warm enough for them to grow, and mature their fruit, and in some cases the plants in spite of all the care bestowed upon them will eventually die a lingering death because of an unfavorable environment.

I am going to tell of a few of my failures with tropical plants, so that others may escape some of the disappointments and expense that I have experienced.

Some years ago I read a glowing description of the delectable fruit borne by the Sapodilla (Achras sapota) and paid a good price for a very small tree of it. After carefully watering and cultivating this Sapodilla for several years it is now a little more than two feet high, and if it continues to grow as fast in the future as it has in the past, (which I doubt) it should be large enough to produce some of its fruit some time in the next century. I have not heard of it being grown successfully anywhere in Southern California.

The Mango is another of my disappointments. The Mango is a very desirable fruit, and deserves all that has been said in its favor, but the best varieties are natives of India, and must have tropical heat to grow them to perfection. I obtained two grafted plants of the Mango from Florida for a good price, also a fine plant from a local nursery for which I paid $5.00. This specimen managed to live a few years and even tried to blossom, but it tried in vain, and after a hopeless struggle it finally gave up the ghost, and I became convinced that while Eagle Rock has a climate that suits me to perfection it does not suit the Mango and it is wasted effort trying to grow it here.

My crowning disappointment was the Papaya, (Carica papaya). A friend of mine who had lived in Sinaloa, Mexico, told me that it was the one tropical fruit that he could eat with a relish for breakfast 365 days of the year. The fact that it is not only a delicious food but also an aid to digestion on account of pepain [sic] in it made [me] exceedingly anxious to try growing it.

I sent to Sinaloa for seeds, and obtained seeds from Hawaii. I also bought some plants from a local nursery, but all my efforts to grow the Papaya only resulted in failure. I succeeded in getting one plant three or four feet high, and it was in bud for bloom when an unusually heavy frost struck it and injured it beyond recovery, although I had it well protected by cloth above and around it.

Some of my friends in Eagle Rock had no better success than I had in trying to grow this wonderful fruit, so I was not alone in my failure. The Papaya is being grown in some of the most favored locations in this country, but it is doubtful if it will ever be much of a success here unless a more hardy variety can be developed which may not be impossible. I am however fully convinced that it is useless to try the varieties now in cultivation in Eagle Rock.

I will mention the names of a few other plants that for various reasons it does not pay to bother with here, as I have tried them. My list of undesirables includes the Kai Apple, Natal Plum, Passion Fruit, Jujube. The Jujube will grow and produce fruits all right, but they are the driest things I ever tried to chew, with the possible exception of St. John's Bread, and I feel sorry for St. John.

(Continued Next Thursday.)

Part 13 — March 8, 1934

It is about 25 years ago that Wilson Popenoe, Horticultural Explorer for the U. S. Government gave me at the Pasadena Flower Show the fruit known as Cherimoya to taste. I thought then that it was the very best fruit I ever ate, and I have never changed my opinion of it.

The Cherimoya (Annona Cherimola) is a native of the mountainous regions of Ecuador and Peru. While found growing near the Equator it is classed as a sub-tropical fruit, as it grows only at high elevations in its native habitat. The fact that well established trees will endure a temperature of 27 degrees without serious injury makes it possible to grow it successfully in Southern California.

According to well known authorities quoted by Mr. Popenoe the Cherimoya has been acclaimed as “Deliciousness itself”, “The Masterpiece of Nature.” A well known California Nurseryman says of the Cherimoya: “It is not a fruit that one has to learn to like; you will fall in love with it at first taste.”

I know that the Cherimoya can be successfully grown in Southern California, and that it deserves all the praise bestowed upon it. Why then is it not more generally grown? I think the principal reasons are that a great many people know nothing about it, and many of the trees that have been planted are such shy bearers that some become disgusted with it.

I cannot brag about my own success with this the most desirable of all fruits. I had one seedling that produced blossoms in abundance, but never a fruit, and I have a budded variety that has not borne on the average more than two Cherimoyas a year, yet I feel just as enthusiastic about the best fruit that grows as I ever did, and am determined to succeed with it if I live long enough, for I have friends in Eagle Rock that have been quite successful with it as they have trees that have been producing satisfactory crops of fine fruits for years.

There are seedling Cherimoyas that do not bear, and also some named kinds that are disappointing probably because of imperfect flowers or lack of pollenization, and sometimes wrong treatment, due to the ignorance of the grower.

The most satisfactory Cherimoya in Eagle Rock appears to belong to the class known as “Tuberculate Cherimoya”. The fruit is heartshaped and bears wart-like tubercles on the surface of the fruits. “It is the form most frequently found in the Peruvian markets, and is represented in pre-historic pottery from the graves of that country.”

From this it would appear that the Incas knew a good thing when they ate it.

I might add that the stem end of this variety (or possible hybrids of it) remind one very strikingly of a horned toad in appearance, but this does not prevent the flesh of this strange looking fruit from being the very best in quality.

Another characteristic of the Cherimoya is that the peculiar blossoms which are not very showy (the most conspicuous part of them being three thick fleshy petals) have a remarkably sweet odor, and to smell them is as pleasing to the sense of smell as the fruit is pleasing to the palate. In fact the fragrance is indescribably sweet and alluring. There are a few small groves of the Cherimoya in Los Angeles County. At least one of which has come into bearing, producing fruits weighing from one to three pounds or more. These fruits are now being sold at fifty cents per pound, which should be quite satisfactory to the owner of the trees.

I am confident that when this unrivalled fruit becomes better known and better understood it will be planted in great quantities, as the market for it will be unlimited. Eventually it will be produced by the trainload.

Every home owner between here and San Diego should plant at least one or two Cherimoyas, and plant the best budded kinds you can buy.

Part 14 — March 15, 1934

It is more than twenty years since I planted a small tree of the Sapote (Casimiroa edulis). The winter of the hard freeze 1913-14 when only a slender sapling it was killed to the ground. I thought I had lost my tree, but the following spring a sprout came up from it and grew rapidly, and now it is a widespreading tree nearly twenty feet high, and yielding nearly every year an abundance of good sized fruit nearly as large as the average apple. When ripe the fruit are as soft as custard and almost as sweet as sugar.

The flavor is very difficult to describe. Some people are exceedingly fond of it. Personally I never care to eat more than one at a time, and I prefer it to be only moderately soft, as when they become overripe and mushy they are slightly nauseous to me. It is a fruit that contains absolutely no acid, and it is claimed by Mexicans that it induces sleep when eaten. As to its desirability those who like it are greatly in the majority.

The Casimiroa is a native of Mexico growing on the higher lands up to an altitude of about 7000 feet. Well established trees in Southern California will withstand as much frost as the lemon.

At the time I planted my Sapote none but seedling trees were to be had, and as in many other fruits the seedlings vary greatly. I was fortunate in planting a tree that bears fine fruit, while there were other trees planted in Eagle Rock that proved to be worthless.

While the tree is deciduous it is really an evergreen as its leaves do not fall until spring, and the new foliage develops in a surprisingly short time. It appears to be quite erratic in regard to its time of bearing. One year I could gather ripe fruits from Thanksgiving until March. Last year the fruits began ripening in the summer and continued until December. At the present time (Feb. 12) the tree is laden with hundreds of small fruits the largest of them being as large as walnuts, and innumerable blossoms. The blossoms are very small, light green in color, and are almost invisible among the dense foliage unless one is directly under the tree.

While the Sapote is not everbearing it has a long season of continuous ripening covering a period of four months or more. The largest fruits now on the tree will probably begin to ripen about next September when they will average from five to ten ounces or over in weight. Remember the fruits you see in the shows are always the largest to be found on the tree.

The worst fault I can find with the Sapote is that usually it changes color but very little when ripe enough to pick, being green with a very slight yellowish or brownish tint when mature, and if allowed to remain on the tree until they fall of their own accord they are apt to be so soft that they will bruise badly, and be unfit for the market.

However, with all its faults I would not think of parting with my Sapote tree.

As in the case of many other fruit trees it pays to get the best budded kind to be obtained and get a good sized tree as a seedling does not bear until it is seven years old. A good budded variety might possibly bear somewhat earlier.

(Continued Next Thursday.)

Part 15 — March 22, 1934

In times of unusual warm weather such as we have been having early in March of this year it is very important not to allow plants, trees, or shrubs to suffer from lack of sufficient moisture. Especially does this apply to all plants, and trees that have just been set out. Practically all plants require two or three times as much water in times of extreme heat as is necessary when the temperature is more moderate. And do not neglect to cultivate the soil around your plants as soon after watering as it is in proper condition to work, which is generally when it has dried sufficiently so that it will not stick to the hoe when you are cultivating.

As I have tried to make clear in some of my previous writings, this cultivation after irrigation is of the utmost importance. Remember good cultivation has been the greatest factor in producing the improved varieties of the finest fruits, flowers and vegetables we now enjoy, and no matter how fine a variety you may plant you cannot expect the best results unless you give your plants similar good culture. By keeping the surface of the soil in a loose permeable condition you are encouraging root development, and at the same time conserving the moisture so that much less of your irrigating water is lost by evaporation.

The conservation of moisture is the greatest secret in connection with successful “Dry Farming” so-called. In the early days of Eagle Rock, long before much of the valley had been laid out in town lots, a great deal of the higher part of the Valley, (particularly the north slope) was used for growing “Winter Tomatoes” that were shipped to Chicago, and possibly other Eastern markets.

Preparations for growing these tomatoes was begun as soon as the ground had become wet from the rains of the previous winter, when the ground was plowed deeply, and left in a loose, workable condition. If the soil was again made wet by later rains it was cultivated, and kept in the best possible condition until planting time in Mid-summer, when the tomato plants were set out.

The only water used at planting time was about a pint, poured into the hole after the plant had been inserted, and this was covered up immediately, so that none of it was lost by evaporation.

(Continued Next Thursday)

March 29, 1934

The tomato plants after having been planted as described last week, were never irrigated, but were kept in a perfect state of cultivation, and the way those tomatoes grew and produced fine fruits was simply amazing. In fact they were generally superior in quality to tomatoes that had been irrigated.

The secret of such satisfactory growth was that the greater part of the water that had fallen on the land from the skies the previous winter was kept in the land until it was needed by the growing tomatoes and the soil was in such perfect condition that the plants could reach out and obtain all the moisture and plant food needed as fast as they could develop. The point I wish to emphasize is this, that no matter whether you are depending on natural rainfall or on irrigation, it pays to keep the soil in perfect condition by intelligent cultivation, and at the same time you are enabling your plants to do their best, and most plants will reward your efforts by doing their best.

In addition to the conservation of moisture in the soil, I am also a firm believer in the conservation of the fertility of the soil.

Never burn any leaves, weeds, or any kind of “trash” so-called that can be worked into the soil, and converted into plant food, for when you are burning any kind of material that can be used for enriching and improving the soil you are “robbing” the soil, but when you add Humus producing material to the soil you are cultivating you are “building” the soil, and you are not only adding to your chance for success this year, but you are making your soil better and easier to work in the future. As it is not always possible to apply this humus producing material at the time of planting and digging, every well kept garden should have a compost heap where lawn clippings, weeds and other waste material can be kept until it has decayed so that it can be used conveniently.

As fast as this waste material is put in the compost heap always add a liberal amount of pulverized earth to the pile. The earth if used in sufficient quantity will act as an absorbent and prevent fermentation, and disagreeable odors so that the compost heap will not be unsanitary. This saving of valuable material may mean a little more work, but I am sure that it pays in the long run. Visitors in my garden, have sometimes remarked: “What lovely soil you have.” Well the first time I planted some of that “lovely soil” it was so hard that I was obliged to use a pick in preparing it for planting my dahlias.

If you would have fine soil, and success with your plants practice conservation of the soil, and of the moisture.

The reason there are so many “worn-out” farms in the East is because the farmers did not understand and practice conservation of the soil.

(Continued Next Thursday)

April 5, 1934

I cannot understand why Plantsmen and Hybridists have not paid more attention to the improvement of the fig as it seems to me the opportunity for the development of new and better varieties is boundless. According to the Encyclopedia of Horticulture there are 600 species of Ficus (the botanical name of the fig). Thirty-two species are described in the Encyclopedia. Ficus carica from which most of the cultivated figs have originated is supposed to have been a native of Caria in Asia, but as it was grown in prehistoric times this cannot be verified. When we consider that the fig has been in cultivation for no one knows how many centuries, and to find now less than a dozen kinds offered in some of the leading catalogues it certainly looks as if Hybridists had been neglecting a golden opportunity, especially when some of the kinds now being cultivated are far from being perfectly satisfactory.

The Smyrna (known in California as the Calimyrna) is universally conceded to be the finest of all figs, but the fact that the fruits will not mature without being pollenized by the Caprifig (male fig) makes it impractical for many home-owners with limited garden room to grow it. The finest fig I have eaten is the Brown Turkey. This variety if allowed to stay on the tree until it is fully ripe is (with the single exception of the Cherimoya) just about the most delicious fruit I ever ate.

Unfortunately the Brown Turkey Fig as grown in Eagle Rock has one very serious fault. In torrid weather the fruits will ferment and sour on the tree before they are ripe enough to eat instead of ripening sweet and delicious as any well-behaved Fig should do.

I believe this undesirable result (souring on the tree) can be prevented by covering the tree with WHITE cloth in extreme hot weather. This would also prevent the birds (the pretty birds) from picking a hole in every fruit, and spoiling it before it is ripe enough to be good.

The Black Mission Fig (frequently called by other names) is more generally grown in this locality than any other fig. It never fails to bear an abundant crop, for this reason it is prized by many, and it is much better than having no figs, but to tell the truth it is far inferior in quality to the Smyrna or the Brown Turkey.

I have tried several different white figs the names of which I cannot recall, but I do not care to give any of them garden room.

As for the much advertised Kadota Fig it may have superior merit but I have not found it out yet. From my experience I am inclined to think that it is not well adapted to Eagle Rock climate.

Some time in the future I hope to be able to say something more about Figs, for I am confident the time will come when we will have some very desirable new varieties. I believe the great number of species that can be hybridized makes possible great improvement in this wholesome and much to be desired fruit.

(Continued Next Thursday)

April 12, 1934

The Loquat (Eriobotrya japonica) does well in Southern California, and should be more generally cultivated. The trees are as hardy as the orange, but an extra heavy frost may sometimes injure the fruit, this I think has not occurred more than twice in 25 years in Eagle Rock, even then the damage was very slight in protected parts of the valley. The fruits of the Loquat vary in shape from nearly round, ball-like varieties to oval, and pyriform (pear shaped) kinds. The average size is about that of good sized plums, or prunes, up to some as large as pullet eggs, although some of the best budded varieties can be grown much larger by good cultivation and by thinning the fruits in the early stage of their growth.

The Loquat has been much exploited as being desirable for making jelly and preserves, but in my opinion it is one of the best and most palatable fruits to eat out of hand I have tasted, when it is allowed to remain on the tree until it is fully ripe, at which time the flesh is soft and melting, the flavor reminding one of the apple, the grape or the cherry, depending on the degree of ripeness and the variety. In fact I prefer it to either of the above fruits, when it is fully ripened on the tree.

According to the best authorities the Loquat is a native of China, although Japan appears to have received credit for it in many places. In England it is known as Japanese Medlar, and it is similarly known in some parts of Europe.

Loquats begin blooming here in October, and the fruits are ripe quite early in the spring, at a time when fresh fruits are scarce. I do not hesitate to say that I derive a greater amount of real enjoyment from my Loquat trees than from any other fruit grown here, and it is a busy day indeed when I do not find time to visit the trees, and eat unsparingly of the luscious, health-giving fruits of the Loquat.

The worst fault of the Loquat is that so much valuable space in the center of the fruit is taken up by from three to five extra large seeds. Trees sometimes bear fruits containing only one seed, but it is rather doubtful if a variety can be developed that will produce one-seeded fruits only.

As in many other fruits that have been improved by man in co-operation with Nature Loquats grown from seeds vary greatly, and where one's ground room is limited it is better to plant one or two of the best budded varieties that can be obtained, rather than to grow seedlings especially as it will save a great deal of time. Yet few trees grown from seed have proved to be more satisfactory than have my seedling Loquats. I have only one budded variety (The Advance) and nearly a dozen seedling trees. Fully half of my seedlings are equal to the Advance in quality, one or two excel it, and every one of the remainder are good enough to keep.

The Loquat is sometimes attacked by what is known as the “pear blight” and I will give my experience in dealing with this disease (or infestation) in order that others may know how to combat it. Three or four years ago some of my trees were badly infested, one of them so badly that I destroyed the whole tree. I cut all the infested branches from the other trees and burned them. The result has been that none of my trees have shown any signs of the blight until this year when one tree has had a partial attack of it.

The blight is easily recognized by the leaves turning brown on the branches that are infested, and the bark on these branches will be more or less incrusted with a blackish or rusty looking material on the bark. The branches should be cut back far enough to remove all the bark having this appearance. This may necessitate sacrificing some fruit, but better that than risk the ruin of the whole tree. In favorable seasons there are too many fruits on the trees anyhow to make them as large as they might be.

THIS IS IMPORTANT. Burn all the infested branches as soon as possible after they are cut off.

April 19, 1934

Friends of mine have been informed that Avocado Seedling Trees are of no value unless they are budded, or grafted. While this may sometimes be true, it is not always the case by any means, as I have found out by experience.

The value of your seedling tree depends upon the parentage of your tree, if the seed has been saved from the fruit of a first-class variety then your chances are very good for getting [text missing or OCR-order defective].

[Text missing or OCR-order defective at the transition into the next sentence.]

If [unclear: wording before “on the market is planted”] on the market is planted the chances are about 50-50 that your seedling will be as good as the parent, but if it be from a hybrid variety such as the Fuerte, even if you get a good seedling it is very apt to be quite unlike the parent variety, because the plant variation is always much greater where two or more kinds have been responsible for the geniture of your seedling.

The idea however which appears to be quite common in regard to the Avocado that NO seedling avocado will bear and prove to be satisfactory unless it has been budded [text missing or OCR-order defective] erroneous, for one [text missing or OCR-order defective].

[Several words or lines are missing here.]

[One of my seed]lings produced more fruits last year than any of my budded trees, the tree I am referring to is a seedling of the Ganter and the fruits are so near like those from the parent tree that I cannot see any difference in them.

On account of the fruits of the Ganter burning on the outer end before ripe enough to use it is NOT a good kind for the market, but for home use it is most desirable, as there are very few avocados that excel it for quality in its season of ripening which is in the late summer, or autumn.

The fact is I think so much of this seedling that I have no intention of either budding or discarding it.

On the other hand I have some seedlings that have not borne any fruit and other trees that produced such poor fruit that they were discarded.

If you are in a hurry to have a tree that will bear and produce the kind of fruit you want it is better to pay a fair price for the best budded varieties on the market, especially if you are in a hurry to get results, and your ground room is limited.

Seedling trees require considerable room in which to grow, and it requires time to test them out and to bud them, while a good budded variety from a reliable Nursery will often bear the second year after it is planted.

Notwithstanding this I shall continue to grow Seedling Avocados for I like to experiment with Nature, and there is always a chance of getting something better, for the best kinds that are now grown were originally seedlings in the beginning.

And the foregoing sentence applies to nearly every kind of fruits and flowers we now enjoy.

April 26, 1934

Millions of acres of seeds are planted in the United States every year that never come up. You don’t believe it? Well it's the truth.

Broadly speaking seeds can be divided into two classes as follows: Seeds that come up literally and seeds that never come up, among the last mentioned class corn is a fair sample, for corn never comes up (unless it is pulled up by birds or other pests that have a liking for grain.) A grain of corn stays right where it is planted, and throws a shoot up through the surface of the Earth. After the young plant is well started the grain of corn gradually decays and helps to nourish the plant to which it has given birth.

Sometime in the future I may have something more to say about corn as we know it, for I regard corn as one of the most wonderful plants in cultivation.

Beans on the other hand really do come up, and if you watch closely a few days after planting the seeds you will see what appears to be the whole bean coming up out of the ground. If you plant very large beans such as the well known Lima, it is a good plan to stick the bean in the soil with the eye down, for it makes it easier for the sprout that emerges from the eye to push the bean out of the ground if it is pointed in the right direction, and never cover the beans with anything but loose, well pulverized soil if you want your beans to come up in perfect condition.

The Avocado is another sample of a seed that never comes up, and in planting them always plant the large end up, for the eye from which the embryo tree must emerge is always located in the broad or outer end of the fruit, and of the seed.

As the future Avocado tree grows the huge seed will gradually split apart allowing the rootlets to penetrate the soil beneath, and your plant is started on its way to become a tree.

In great contrast to the Avocado seed are the seeds of the fig. Fig seeds act very much like beans, apparently the whole seed comes up. Now fig seeds are quite small, in fact so small that when they first come up it is rather difficult to see them with the unaided eye, but with a magnifying glass they can be seen quite easily, and quite often the tiny brown shell of the seed can be seen still attached to one of the minute “seedleaves” reminding one of a newly hatched chicken with part of the shell on its back.

Planting fig seeds is not so easy as might be imagined, for I have found out by experience that large seeds are sometimes much easier to plant right than small seeds, especially when the seeds happen to be so small that you can scarcely see them or feel them. Next week I will try to tell you something about sowing fig seeds.

(Continued Next Thursday)

May 3, 1934

Experimenting with plants one knows nothing about is rather an uncertain proposition, but it sometimes happens to be the only way to find out what we want to know, and quite often there is a lot of satisfaction in gratifying one’s curiosity even if it does not prove to be profitable as far as dollars and cents are concerned.

To begin with I knew absolutely nothing about figs, for there were no figs where I learned gardening, except those in small oval boxes that were sold in the grocery store. The first thing that struck me as being unusual after living awhile where figs grow was that I never saw a Fig tree in blossom, the little figs came out on the branches and just grew and swelled until they became real figs, quite unlike those in the small oval boxes, but still very good eating when well ripened.

I had eaten a great many figs before I learned that the fig blossoms were on the inside of the figs. Of course the fig blossoms are quite invisible unless the fig is cut open. Even then most people cannot tell much about them without the aid of a magnifying glass.

Quite a number of years since I planted a Smyrna Fig. It is beyond question the best fig in cultivation, but cannot be successfully grown unless it is pollenized by a small insect known as the “Fig Wasp,” “Blastophage grossorum” which makes its home in the Caprifig (Male fig).

Three or four years ago I succeeded in getting a few fruits to mature on my Smyrna tree, and then the thought occurred to me to plant the seeds of those in the hope of getting something better, or at any rate something different. My first planting of fig seeds could hardly be considered a howling success. They were so sticky I could not let go of them, and so small that I could not tell when I did let go of them, but I finally managed to get the most of them in dirt in some fashion. I wet them down with the watering can and waited results. In about four weeks the first tiny seedlings began to show up. They were so small that it was necessary to use a magnifying glass to make sure they were figs.

The way those little figs came up was astonishing in more ways than one. In some parts of the seed box they were rather scattering but in other places they were as thick as hairs on a dog's back, in fact more than one hundred plants growing in a square inch of space. In spite of my poor work in broadcasting the seeds, the germination must have been very close to 100 per cent, for I obtained from 300 to 400 little fig trees from each fig that produced the seeds.

When many of these tiny seedlings were so close together in the box that they were touching each other it was necessary to transplant them into small pots as soon as possible. The vitality of those minute atoms of plant life was most remarkable. They kept right on growing regardless of being moved at such a tender age, and less than one per cent of them were lost by being transplanted.

The way they grew after being potted was amazing. I have no idea how many thousand fig seeds would be required to weigh as much as one avocado seed of average size, but I do know that a fig tree one year old from seed will be as large as an Avocado tree of the same age, and the Avocado seedling is not slow growing by any means. That seeds as small as those of the fig are capable of producing large trees in a comparatively short time may well be considered one of the wonders of nature.

(Continued Next Thursday)

1. April 19 text. The surviving text of the April 19 installment is severely damaged in several places, and the newspaper page image has not been recovered. Bracketed lacunae mark passages that cannot be responsibly reconstructed from the available source. 

   
   

2. Open ending. The May 3 installment ends with Broomall’s notice “(Continued Next Thursday).” No later installment has been recovered for this edition, so the surviving series remains open-ended.

   
   

3. Conservation of the soil. The March 29 installment carries forward material Broomall had published earlier as Conservation of the Soil, including his language about “robbing” and “building” the soil and his recommendation of a compost heap. The earlier Conservation of the Soil remains a distinct historical work.