we came, he got another small piece of marsh land which joins it on the
west, and started vines on it.
You know that willows, rosebushes, grapevines, and many other plants
will grow from _cuttings_. It is the same with cranberry vines. The
lower end of each cutting is pressed into the soil, and it soon begins
to grow. They are set in rows about fourteen inches apart. One of our
neighbors, who was starting a bog at the same time, cut the vines into
pieces an inch or two long, and scattered them over the ground. He then
harrowed them in. The vines multiply just as strawberry plants do, by
putting out _runners_.
They tell us that our new bog will produce a crop in three years. Do you
have to wait that long for a crop of oranges?
By the middle of June our bog was in full blossom. The flowers are quite
small and their color is a little like that of the flesh. I read an
interesting thing about them the other day. It seems that the berries
used to be called "craneberries," because people thought that the
blossoms, just before they opened fully, "resembled the neck, head, and
bill of a crane." By dropping the _e_, we got the present name.
[Illustration: FIG. 45.--A Cranberry Bog. Showing the Young Vines.]
During our harvest time, which lasted from the middle of September to
the last of October, we were very busy. We did not commence to go to
school until the berries were picked. You see, frost may occur and spoil
the crop, so that everybody works as fast as possible until the harvest
is over. Father had about twenty pickers some of the time, besides our
own family.
[Illustration: FIG. 46.--Cranberry Pickers at Work. Notice how the Bog
is divided into Rows by Means of Cords.]
When we were ready to begin picking, father took some twine and
stretched it back and forth across the bog, fastening it to small
stakes. This divided the field into rows. Each picker was given a row,
and he was not allowed to change until it was finished.
At first it seemed great fun to get down on the ground and strip off the
bright berries, but when one does this day after day it gets pretty
tiresome. It must be easy to pick oranges, because you can stand up
while you work.
Father paid the pickers twelve cents a pail. It takes about three
pailfuls to make a bushel. I averaged about one dollar and a half each
day. I bought a suit of clothes and all of my books for the year, and
have considerable money left. Some of the pickers who were quite small
did not earn very much. Do you recognize Jennie? She worked a part of
every day.
Twice during the picking season there was a sharp frost, but we saved
the crop.
The government sends out a Weather Map every day. Our teacher gets one,
and there is one tacked up in the post office every morning. These maps
tell what kind of weather to expect, and father watches them closely.
When he saw that frost was likely to occur, he and the men opened the
gates which hold back the water, in order to flood the part of the bog
where we had not picked. The vines were buried nearly two feet beneath
the surface of the water. Father says the water cools so slowly that its
temperature is much above that of the surface of the ground or the air
near it, so the berries do not get frost-bitten. Soon after sunrise the
water was drawn off, and the next day the bog was dry enough for the
pickers to work.
[Illustration: Fig. 47.--A Young Worker. Notice how the Berries are
picked.]
I wonder if the Weather Bureau is of any use to farmers in California. I
know that the sailors watch for the flags which tell when storms are
coming, that they may not go to sea if a violent storm is expected.
Father says very many lives and much property are saved every year in
this way.
[Illustration: FIG. 48.--Winnowing and Barreling Cranberries.]
I have not told you what we do with the cranberries after they are
picked. Of course we cannot help gathering some leaves and twigs with
the berries, and these must be taken out. For this purpose the berries
are put into a winnowing machine. I will send you a picture of one. As
the man turns the crank, wooden fans within turn rapidly, blowing out
the leaves, twigs, and dirt. The berries drop through a screen and run
out of a spout into a barrel, as you see. We then put them into crates
or barrels for sale. Father tells me that cranberries are shipped from
our country to Europe, because those raised here are much better than
the European berries.
There are great quantities of cranberries raised in this part of
Massachusetts. I have been reading lately that they are produced in New
Jersey, on Long Island, in Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Canada, and
some other sections. From what I have read, I guess they are not raised
in Southern California. Wouldn't it seem strange if you were to eat
berries raised on our bog, three thousand miles away?
Now I want you to tell me about the orange groves of Southern
California, for none of us have ever seen an orange growing.
I wish you all a very "Merry Christmas" and a "Happy New Year."
Your loving friend,
WILL.
THE COCOANUT ISLANDS OF THE PACIFIC
Imagine yourself on a great ocean steamship, gliding over the blue water
of the Pacific Ocean toward the Samoan Islands. Among the first things
that you will see as you near the shores of these islands will be tall,
slender, graceful trees, rising without a branch to a height of thirty
to eighty feet. At the top is a sort of crown, composed of long,
drooping leaves. These beautiful trees lean out over the water and toss
their leaves in the strong and steady breeze from the ocean. They seem
to nod a friendly greeting to you as you approach, and to wave a loving
farewell to you as you sail away. These trees are the cocoanut palms.
They grow on all of the tropical islands of the Pacific Ocean, in the
West Indies, and along the shores of most warm countries, but never far
from the sea.
When the cocoanut falls into the water, it is rocked and tossed by the
waves and drifted about by the currents, but it is safe within its
shell, for the salt water cannot penetrate this. When it finally comes
to rest upon some strange shore, it is ready to give to the world
another cocoanut palm, if the climate is like that from which it sailed.
In this way nature has helped the trees to become widely distributed.
There are cocoanut plantations as well as wild groves of the trees. When
a plantation is to be established, the planter selects the ripest nuts
and dries them for several weeks. They are then planted, and by and by a
little palm springs from the small end of the nut and the roots from the
large end. When the young trees are from six months to two years old,
they are transplanted in rows thirty or forty feet apart. They begin to
bear nuts in about five years, but they do not yield a full crop for
fifteen or twenty years. Do you think that a poor man could afford to go
into the business of cocoanut raising?
[Illustration: FIG. 49.--A Cocoanut Grove.]
As you see in the picture, cocoanuts grow in clusters. You notice
also that they grow close to the stem instead of at the ends of the
branches. They do not all ripen at once, but nuts may be picked at
almost any time. A tree will produce from fifty to one hundred nuts each
year. If you were to go into an apple, a peach, or a cherry orchard, you
could easily pick the ripe fruit. Gathering cocoanuts is quite a
different matter, however. Let us observe this shiny-skinned Samoan boy
and see how he picks them. He fastens a short piece of rope in the form
of a loop to each foot. Letting one of the loops catch on a rough place
on the bark of the tree he places the hollow of his foot against it,
clasps the trunk with his hands, and raises himself a little. Then the
other loop is fastened a little higher up, and he raises himself again.
In this way he finally reaches the nuts. With a knife he cuts off the
ripe ones, which fall to the ground and are then piled up. They are then
placed in baskets which are hung from a pole and carried on the
shoulders of two men or are loaded on to donkeys and taken to the shed.
The ripe cocoanut is a valuable article of food just as it is picked
from the tree. It contains also a milk which is a nourishing drink. Most
of the cocoanut sent to other countries, however, is in a form known as
_copra_.
At the shed the hard shell, which covers the meat, is split open by
means of an ax. The meat is removed with a knife and is then spread out
on mats to dry. This dried cocoanut is copra.
The inhabitants of these cocoanut islands live in a much more simple
style than we do, and the cocoanut tree supplies many of the things that
they use daily.
Let us examine the home of a native Samoan. The frame and posts of the
house are made of the slender trunks of the cocoanut palm, while the
roof is covered with its leaves instead of with shingles. The cups,
bowls, dippers, and many other household utensils are made of the
shells. If a whole shell is wanted, the "eyes" are pushed in, the milk
is used, and ants are allowed to eat the meat. These make excellent
water bottles. Baskets, curtains, and twine, are made from the fiber of
the leaves, and the bark is used for fuel.
From the copra an oil is pressed which is used in the manufacture of
soap. It makes a perfectly white soap that will float on the water. It
is also used to furnish light, and the people rub it on their bodies to
prevent sunburn. The sap of the tree is made into sugar, vinegar, and a
liquor.
While in our country the cocoanut is important chiefly to bakers and
confectioners, in these far-away islands it is the most useful of
plants, and one of the chief articles of food. Would you not like to
visit the cocoanut islands and learn more of their interesting people?
A BUNCH OF BANANAS
Every day, as you walk along the streets you see great bunches of
bananas hanging in front of fruit and grocery stores. You find them at
the corner fruit stand, and peddlers carry them from house to house.
Although bananas are so common now and so cheap that all can afford to
eat them, this was not so when your grandparents were children. In those
days the fruit was regarded as quite a luxury, for there were few people
engaged in carrying it from its tropical home to the cities of our
country. Now many small but swift ships, called "fruiters," carry on
this business. They get their cargoes of fruit in the West Indies or
Central America, and within a week after sailing they are unloading at
New Orleans, Baltimore, New York, or Boston. If the number of bananas
which reach our country each year were equally distributed, each person
would receive twenty-five.
[Illustration: FIG. 50.--A Banana Tree.]
Let us get aboard that wonderful train upon which all may travel free of
cost, which runs equally well upon land and water. We step off right in
the center of a banana plantation on the island of Jamaica.
Yes, these are banana trees all about you. See how long and broad the
leaves are and how gracefully they droop! Some of them are ten or
fifteen feet long; almost as long as the trees are tall. The trees, you
see, are simply stalks from which the leaves unroll. Here you can see
some just starting out. They are rolls of bright green, pointing upward,
each starting from the center of the stalk. No, the leaves were not torn
in that way by the pickers. The wind sometimes whips them into ribbons,
for they are very tender.
These stalks growing from the base of the main stem are called "suckers"
here; in Costa Rica they are called "bits." You remember that there are
no seeds in bananas. It is these "suckers" that are planted when a
farmer wants to start a plantation. They are set out when two or three
feet high and within a year they bear fruit. What did I tell you about
the length of time required for the cocoanut to bear?
It is but four years since the trees in this plantation were single
"suckers," standing about fifteen feet apart. Now there are several
stalks grouped about each parent plant, and the beautiful leaves,
touching overhead, form shaded aisles of green.
[Illustration: FIG. 51.--A Banana Plantation.]
Of course a great number of "suckers" are not allowed to grow together.
Keeping these cut down is called "cleaning the plantation."
Now let us examine the fruit on this tree beside us. You see that the
great cluster or bunch is made up of smaller bunches. These are called
"hands," and each banana is spoken of as a "finger." Let us count the
"hands" in this bunch. This is an unusually large one, for it contains
thirteen. Nine "hands" make a _full bunch_. As you see, there are from
ten to twenty "fingers" in a "hand." Buyers will seldom take bunches of
less than six "hands."
Here come the fruit cutters to help get a cargo for the "fruiter" we saw
at anchor.
Yes, the bananas are green, I know, and they are always green when
gathered. They will ripen in the storehouses when they reach the United
States.
No, it is not a waste to cut down the stalks, for they die after bearing
their fruit, and the smaller stalks about them will soon yield. Some of
these stalks, you see, have but one bunch and some have two or three.
How odd the bunches look with the "fingers" all pointing upward!
The banana leaves which the men are wrapping about the bunches are to
protect the fruit. It bruises very easily and great quantities are lost
on this account. They are not always wrapped, however.
When the fruit reaches the vessel, it is carefully inspected; and if not
in just the right condition, it is refused. The bunches which are
accepted, are taken into the hold of the ship and packed closely
together. The planter receives for these from ten to thirty-five cents a
bunch. Just think of buying eight or nine dozen of bananas for ten
cents!
[Illustration: FIG. 52.--Loading a Small Boat with Bananas to be taken
to the "Fruiter" in the Harbor.]
The men will not stop work until the ship is loaded. It may take
twenty-four hours, and it may take twice that long, for a "fruiter" will
carry from fifteen to twenty thousand bunches of fruit.
In some parts of Central America, where there are no harbors, the
planters float the fruit down the streams in canoes. The vessels anchor
at some distance from the shore, and the bananas are taken out in boats
called _dories_. They are hoisted up to the deck of the ship by means of
pulleys, and then packed in the hold. The thousands of bunches which are
bruised in handling are thrown into the sea.
While the northern ports get most of their supply of bananas from the
West Indies, the Pacific coast states are supplied from Central America.
The "fruiters" unload at New Orleans into trains, which carry the fruit
to Los Angeles, San Francisco, and other places. Banana trains also run
from New Orleans to St. Louis, Chicago, and other parts of the country.
The fruit ships have great pipes or ventilators, which carry the cool,
fresh air from the sea down into the hold. Sometimes when they reach
port it is so cold that the bananas cannot be taken out for a few days.
Wagons are loaded with the fruit at the wharves, and it is taken to
warehouses where it gradually turns yellow. I am sure you have seen
loads of the green fruit on the streets.
[Illustration: FIG. 53.--A "Fruiter" taking a Cargo of Bananas.]
When the wholesale merchant sells the fruit, he often incloses each
bunch in the rough material of which gunny sacks are made, and then puts
a light, circular frame, made of strips of wood, over it. This, you see,
protects the bananas. The grocer or fruit man takes hold of the frame
without danger of mashing the fruit, lifts the bunch, and hangs it upon
a hook. The frame and sacking are then removed.
Bananas grow in the tropical parts of Asia and Africa and on many of the
islands of the Pacific Ocean. They are also raised in Florida, and they
ripen in sheltered places in Southern California.
You have seen both yellow and red bananas. The red ones usually bring
the higher price, but they do not keep well and are not so extensively
raised as the yellow ones.
The banana is an important article of food. It is much more nourishing
than potatoes or even good, white bread. A flour or meal can be made
from the fruit by drying it and then grinding.
HOW DATES GROW
Three thousand years before the shepherds followed the star to the
manger at Bethlehem, the beautiful date palm was cultivated beside the
banks of the Euphrates and the Nile rivers. The date was the bread of
the people who lived in these fertile valleys, and it is an important
article of food in northern Africa, Arabia, and Persia to-day.
Look at a map of northern Africa, and you will see that the great Sahara
covers a large part of it. Here and there across the drifting sands wind
caravan routes, traveled by camels ridden by strangely dressed men.
These routes lead to beautiful garden spots called _oases_. Here are
wells and springs, with little streams flowing in the shade of fig, date
palm, and other trees. The people who dwell within these groves beside
the cooling waters look out upon the desert as the inhabitants of an
island might look upon the boundless sea. Find some of these oases and
learn why they are fertile. The people who live in these oases depend
upon dates for their living. The dreary journey from the coast to the
interior is made to procure quantities of this fruit, which are wanted
by the outside world.
If you were to make a journey in a desert country, you would find that
you could not carry such articles of food as you would have if you
remained at home. The sunshine beats down fiercely, the springs and
wells are far apart, and the patient animals must not be overloaded. The
chief article of food carried is the date. A mass is packed together
until it is so hard that pieces are chopped off with a hatchet when they
are wanted.
Like the cocoanut palm, the date palm rises to a great height, sometimes
fifty or sixty feet, without branches. It ends in a crown of beautiful
feathery leaves which droop downward. These leaves may be ten or fifteen
feet long. Many of them stand edgewise. Unlike most trees, the trunk
does not steadily increase in size, and you can tell nothing as to
the age of the tree by its diameter.
[Illustration: FIG. 54.--Date Palms loaded with Ripe Fruit, Biskra,
Algeria. (Year Book U. S. Department of Agriculture, 1900.)]
In its wild state many shoots spring from the base of the tree. These
may grow as high as the parent stalk, so that in time a jungle or
thicket is formed.
The flowers, which are clear white, grow in clusters. There are from six
to twenty of these clusters on a tree, each of which produces a bunch of
dates. The female tree bears the fruit. The blossoms are pollinated both
by the wind and by man.
There are from ten to fifteen pounds of dates in a bunch. A tree will
average from one hundred to two hundred pounds each year, although trees
have been known to yield six hundred pounds. The trees yield when from
four to eight years old, and continue to bear for a century.
The dates, green at first, later in the year a yellowish brown, are,
when ripe, amber or black in color.
The trees require a very dry, hot climate, but moist soil. Long, long
ago, this saying was common among the Arabs, "The date palm, the queen
of trees, must have her feet in running water and her head in the
burning sky."
Although there are lovely date palm trees on the grounds of many
California homes, few of them bear fruit. The temperature must average
from eighty to ninety degrees for a considerable time in the summer, in
order to mature it. What is the average summer temperature in your
locality?
If an ordinary tree is frost-bitten, it recovers and soon puts out a new
growth; but if the crown of the date palm be frozen, the tree dies.
When the Moors went to Spain, in the eleventh century, they introduced
this valuable tree which the mission fathers several hundred years later
brought to Mexico and to Southern California.
How would you like to try to climb a date palm tree? Although they look
so smooth and are without branches, the natives of the desert climb them
without any help whatever. The trunk is always somewhat rough, and this
makes it possible to ascend them.
[Illustration: FIG. 55.--Date Palm Trees.]
Not all of the dates in a bunch ripen at once, so they are usually
picked by hand and only the ripe ones selected. Sometimes, however, the
bunches are cut off. Some dates contain so much sap that the bunches
must be hung up to allow it to drain off before they can be shipped.
This sap is called _date honey_, and is saved. They are sent to the
coast towns in bags or boxes called _frails_. Where dates are to be sold
in small quantities, they are repacked in the small boxes such as you
have seen.
You know that dates are very sweet, and it is no wonder that they are,
for they contain from fifty-five to sixty per cent of sugar.
The trees are often tapped, and the sap which flows out is made into
sugar. Vinegar and a liquor called _arrack_ are also made from it. The
leaves of the tree are made into bags and mats; from the stones a drink
is made which takes the place of coffee. From the leafstalks baskets are
made, while the trunk furnishes material for houses and for fences.
If the dates could speak, they could tell us many wonderful stories of
the far East, of the river boats on the Nile, of the drifting sands
which come so close to the river's banks, of the caravans creeping over
the desert toward the green oases and then fading out of sight, bearing
loads of this food to the countries where it is not produced.
THE ORANGE GROVES OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
PASADENA, CALIFORNIA, Jan. 4, 1902.
DEAR FRIEND WILL: I was very glad to receive your letter, and much
surprised to know that you are living on a farm. I am glad that you
described the raising of cranberries, for I did not know much about it
before. When I told my teacher about getting the letter, she asked me to
read it in the geography class and to show the pictures. I asked our
grocery-man where he gets his cranberries, and found that some of them
came from Wareham.
You are having cold weather now, I know. Is the skating good? I have not
seen ice as thick as window glass since we came to California, except
that delivered by the iceman. Just now there is a beautiful covering of
snow on the mountains a few miles north and east of town. Just think of
picking roses and callas with snow in plain sight! The snow never
remains more than a day or two on these mountains.
Soon after we came to Pasadena, father bought an orange grove of
twenty-five acres. We are picking the fruit now. People began to pick
oranges several weeks ago, and the work will continue all winter.
Orange trees are planted about twenty feet apart, but the groves do not
look as apple orchards do in the East, for no grass is allowed to grow
in them.
The best orange section is east of here, near Redlands and Riverside,
but some good fruit is raised near Pasadena also.
Father keeps our trees pruned down rather low, so that it is easier to
pick the oranges than it would be if they were allowed to grow very
tall.
Orange raising is like cranberry growing in one way--the land must be
irrigated in each case. Here the water is piped from the mountain
streams and from tunnels. We form basins about ten feet square around
each tree and fill them with water. Most of our irrigating is done
during the summer, as the winter is our rainy season. _You_ would not
call it a very rainy time. Our average is about twenty inches for the
whole year.
The trees in our grove have been set out about six years, and they are
bearing nicely now. Orange trees begin to bear when they are four years
old; so, you see, we have to wait a little longer for a crop than you do
for a crop of cranberries. It costs a good deal to start an orange
grove. Trees cost from one dollar to one and one-half dollars each at
the nurseries. A few years ago they sold for twenty cents each.
I wish that you could see the trees when they are in full blossom, and
also when they are loaded with the golden fruit. I am going to put some
orange blossoms into the envelope, but I am afraid they will not reach
you in very good condition. They are very fragrant, and you can smell
their perfume some distance from a tree in blossom.
To-day we picked about two hundred and fifty boxes of oranges. We always
speak of _picking_ them, although they are not picked, but cut. You
see, if they were picked off, the part where the stem pulled off would
soon begin to decay.