We now turn to the other great American species—Rubus Occidentalis—the well-known black-cap, or thimble berry, that is found along almost every roadside and fence in the land. There are few little people who have not stained their lips and fingers, not to mention their clothes, with this homely favorite. I can recall the days when, to the horror of the laundress, I filled my pockets with the juicy caps. It is scarcely necessary to recall its long, rambling, purple shoots, its light-green foliage, silvery on the under side, its sharp and abundant spines, from which we have received many a vicious scratch. Its cultivation is so simple that it may be suggested in a few sentences. It does not produce suckers, like R. Strigosus, but the tips of the drooping branches root themselves in the soil during August and September, forming young plants. These, planted, produce a vigorous bush the first year that bears the second season, and then dies down to the perennial root, as is the case with all raspberries. Usually, the tips of the young canes will take root, if left to themselves, unless whipped about by the wind. If new plants in abundance are desired, it is best to assist Nature, however, by placing a little earth on the tip just after it begins to enlarge slightly, thus showing it is ready to take root. This labor is quickly performed by throwing a handful or two of earth on the tips with a trowel. The tips do not all mature for propagation at one time; therefore, it is well to go over the plantation every two weeks after the middle of August and cover lightly with earth only such as are enlarged. If covered before this sign of readiness appears, the tip merely decays. If a variety is very scarce, we may cover not only the tips, but also much of the cane, lightly—an inch or two—with earth, and each bud will eventually make a plant. This should not be done, however, until the wood is well ripened, say about the first of October. Throw a few leaves over such layered canes in November, and divide the buds and roots into separate plants early in spring. They will probably be so small as to need a year in the nursery row. Sometimes, after the first tip is rooted, buds a little above it will push into shoots which also will root themselves with slight assistance, and thus the number of new plants is greatly increased. Spring is by far the best time, at the North, for planting these rooted tips; but it should be done as early as possible, before the bud has started into its brittle, succulent growth. At the South, November is probably the best season for planting. It is a species that adapts itself to most soils, even the lightest, and endures much neglect. At the same time, it responds generously to good culture and rigorous pruning, and if moisture is abundant the yield is simply enormous. It not only thrives far to the north, but can also be grown further south than any other class of raspberries.

In planting, spread out the roots and let them go down their full length, but do not put over an inch or two of soil on the bud from which the new canes are to spring. Press the earth firmly around this bud, but not on it. Let the rows be six feet apart, and the plants three feet from each other in the row; at this distance, 2,400 will be required for an acre. Summer pinching back will transform these sprawling, drooping canes into compact, stocky bushes, or ornamental shrubs that in sheltered locations will be self-supporting. Clean culture, and, as the plantation grows older, higher stimulation, greatly enhance success. After the plants begin to show signs of age and feebleness, it is best to set out young plants on new ground.

The varieties of this species are almost innumerable, since seedlings come up by the million every year; but the differences between the majority of them are usually very slight. There are four kinds, however, that have won honorable distinction and just popularity. The earliest of these is Davidson's Thornless, said to have originated in the garden of Mrs. Mercy Davidson, Towanda, Erie Co., N.Y. It is nothing like so vigorous a grower as the other three varieties; but the sweetness of the fruit and the freedom from thorns make it desirable for the home garden. Unless high culture or moist soil is given, I do not recommend it for market.

Next in order of ripening is the Doolittle, or American Improved, found growing wild, about thirty-five years since, by Leander Joslyn, of Phelps, Ontario Co., N.Y., and introduced by Mr. H. H. Doolittle. This, hitherto, has been the most popular of all the species, and thousands of bushels are annually raised for market. The plant is exceedingly vigorous, producing strong, branching canes that literally cover themselves with fruit. I have seen long rows fairly black with caps. Perhaps it should be stated that the thorns are vigorous also.

Latest in ripening is the Mammoth Cluster, or McCormick, which, thus far, has been my favorite. It is even more vigorous than the preceding, but not so briery or branching. The fruit is produced usually in a thick cluster or bunch at the end of the branch, and they ripen more together than the other kinds. The caps, too, are much larger, more juicy and fine-flavored. One is less conscious of the seeds. Between the thumb and finger you can often gather a handful from a single spray, it is so prodigiously productive. Thus far it has been unsurpassed, either for home use or market; but now it is encountering a rival in the Gregg, a new variety that is attracting much attention. Its history, as far as I have been able to learn it, is as follows:

In the latter part of June, 1866, this black raspberry was found growing wild in a ravine on the Gregg farm, which is located in Ohio Co., Indiana. The original bush "was bending under the weight of colossal-sized clusters. It was then a single clump, surrounded by a few young plants growing from its tips. Before introducing it to the public, we gave it a most thorough and complete trial. We have put it on the tables of some of the most prominent horticultural societies, and by each it has been voted the highest rank in their fruit lists. At the Centennial Exposition, at Philadelphia, in competition with all the prominent varieties in the world, it was ranked highest by the judges. During eleven years of observation it has survived the coldest winters, and never failed to yield an abundant crop. It is a vigorous, rapid grower, producing strong, well-matured canes by fall. The fruit is beautiful in appearance, delicious, possessing excellent shipping and keeping qualities."

The above is a mild and condensed statement of its claims, as set forth by Messrs. R. & P. Gregg, proprietors of the Gregg farm, and I believe these gentlemen have given a correct account of their experience. As the result of much inquiry, it would appear that this variety is also doing well throughout the country at large.

Mr. N. Ohmer, who has been most prominent in introducing the Gregg, gives the following account of his first acquaintance with it: "At a meeting of the Indiana State Horticultural Society, held at Indianapolis, a gentleman asked for the privilege of making some remarks about a new black raspberry that he was cultivating. Being pretty long-winded, as most lawyers are, he spoke so long, and said so much in favor of his berry, that no one believed him, and were glad when he got through. The summer following, I chanced to call on the Secretary of the Indiana State Board of Agriculture, in the Capitol building, and was surprised to see on his table about half a peck of berries and an armful of canes loaded with the largest, handsomest, and best black raspberries I had ever seen. Mr. Herron, the Secretary, informed me that they were grown by Messrs. R. & P. Gregg. I obtained two hundred plants, a few of which bore fruit so fine, the following season, that all who saw it wanted plants." It was learned that Mr. Gregg was the lawyer who was thought "long-winded," and many who then yawned have since thought, no doubt, that they might have listened with much profit, for the demand for the plants has become greater than the supply. Only time can show whether the Gregg is to supersede the Mammoth Cluster. I observe that veteran fruit growers are very conservative, and by no means hasty to give a newcomer the place that a fine old variety has won by years of excellence in nearly all diversities of soil and climate. The Gregg certainly promises remarkably well, and Mr. Thomas Meehan, editor of the "Gardener's Monthly," who is well known to be exceedingly careful and conscientious in indorsing new fruits, writes: "We believe this variety is generally larger than any other of its kind yet known."

There are many other candidates for favor, but thus far they are untried, or have not proved themselves equal to the kinds I have named.

Quite a distinct branch of R. Occidentalis is the Purple Cane family—so named, I think, from the purple cane raspberry that was so well known in old gardens a few years ago, but since it has been superseded by better kinds is now fast passing out of cultivation. It almost took care of itself in our home garden for forty years or more, and its soft, small berries would melt in one's mouth. Its canes were smooth and its fruit of a dusky-red color. In other respects, it resembles the black-cap tribe.

The Catawissa, found growing in a Pennsylvania graveyard, is another berry of this class, which produces a second crop in autumn. It is tender in the Northern States, and has never become popular.

The Philadelphia is the best known of the class, and at one time was immensely popular. Its canes are smooth, stout, erect in growth, and enormously productive of medium-sized, round, dusky-red berries of very poor flavor. It throve so well on the light soils about Philadelphia, that it was heralded to the skies, and the plants sold at one time as high as $40 per 100, but the inferior flavor and unattractive appearance of the fruit caused it to decline steadily in favor, and now it has but few friends. Unlike others of its class, it does not root from the tips, but propagates itself by suckers, producing them sparingly, however. When it was in such great demand, the nurserymen increased it by root cuttings, forced under glass.