The small-fruit branch of the rose family is assuredly entitled to respect when it is remembered that the blackberry is the blackest sheep in it. Unlike the raspberry, the drupes cling to the receptacle, which falls off with them when mature, and forms the hard, disagreeable core when the berry is black, but often only half ripe. The bush is, in truth, what the ancients called it—a bramble, and one of our Highland wildcats could scarcely scratch more viciously than it, if treated too familiarly; but, with judicious respect and good management, it will yield large and beautiful berries.

It would seem that Nature had given her mind more to blackberries than to strawberries, for, instead of merely five, she has scattered about 150 species up and down the globe. To describe all these would be a thorny experience indeed, robbing the reader of his patience as completely as he would be bereft of his clothing should he literally attempt to go through them all. Therefore, I shall give Professor Gray's description of the two species which have furnished our few really good varieties, and dismiss with mere mention a few other species.

"Rubus Villosus, High Blackberry. Everywhere along thickets, fence-rows, etc., and several varieties cultivated; stems one to six feet high, furrowed; prickles strong and hooked; leaflets three to five, ovate or lance-ovate, pointed, their lower surface and stalks hairy and glandular, the middle one long-stalked and sometimes heart-shaped; flowers racemed, rather large, with short bracts; fruit oblong or cylindrical.

"R. Canadensis, Low Blackberry or Dewberry. Rocky and sandy soil; long trailing, slightly prickly, smooth or smoothish, and with three to seven smaller leaflets than in the foregoing, the racemes of flowers with more leaf-like bracts, the fruit of fewer grains and ripening earlier."

The R. Cuneifolius, or Sand Blackberry, is common in the sandy ground and barrens from New Jersey southward; the R. Trivialis, Southern Low Blackberry, is found in light soils from Virginia southward; the R. Hispidus is a Running Swamp Blackberry whose long, slender stems creep through low, damp woods and marshes; the R. Spectabilis produces purple solitary flowers, and grows on the banks of the Columbia River in the far Northwest. Whatever improvements may originate from these species in the future, they have not as yet, to my knowledge, given us any fine cultivated variety.

R, fruticosus is the best-known European species, but neither has it, as far as I can discover, been the source of any varieties worthy of favor. It is said to have a peculiar flavor, that produces satiety at once. The blackberry, therefore, is exceptional, in that we have no fine foreign varieties, and Mr. Fuller writes that he cannot find "any practical information in regard to their culture in any European work on gardening."

The "bramble" is quite fully treated in Mr. R. Thompson's valuable English work, but I find little to interest the American reader. He suggests that the several native species that he describes are capable of great improvement, but I cannot learn that such effort has ever been made successfully. I do not know of any reason why our fine varieties will not thrive abroad, under conditions that accord with their nature.

In America there are innumerable varieties, since Nature produces wild seedlings on every hillside, and not a few seeds have been planted by horticulturists in the hope of originating a prize berry. Nature appears to have had the better fortune, thus far, for our best varieties are chance seedlings, found growing wild.

It is not so many years since the blackberry was regarded as merely a bramble in this country, as it now is abroad, and people were content with such fruit as the woods and fields furnished. Even still, in some localities, this supply is so abundant as to make the culture of the blackberry unprofitable. But, a number of years since, Mr. Lewis A. Seacor led to better things, by observing on the roadside, in the town of New Rochelle, Westchester County, New York, a bush flourishing where Nature had planted it. This variety took kindly to civilization, and has done more to introduce this fruit to the garden than all other kinds together. Mr. Donald GK Mitchell, in his breezy out-of-door book, "My Farm at Edgewood," gives its characteristics so admirably that I am tempted to quote him:

"The New Rochelle or Lawton Blackberry has been despitefully spoken of by many; first, because the market fruit is generally bad, being plucked before it is fully ripened; and next, because, in rich, clayey grounds, the briers, unless severely cut back, grow into a tangled, unapproachable forest, with all the juices exhausted in wood. But upon a soil moderately rich, a little gravelly and warm, protected from winds, served with occasional top-dressings and good hoeings, the Lawton bears magnificent burdens. Even then, if you wish to enjoy the richness of the fruit, you must not be hasty to pluck it. When the children say, with a shout, 'The blackberries are ripe!' I know they are black only, and I can wait. When the children report, 'The birds are eating the berries!' I know I can wait. But when they say, 'The bees are on the berries!' I know they are at their ripest. Then, with baskets, we sally out; I taking the middle rank, and the children the outer spray of boughs. Even now we gather those only which drop at the touch; these, in a brimming saucer, with golden Alderney cream and a soupcon of powdered sugar, are Olympian nectar; they melt before the tongue can measure their full soundness, and seem to be mere bloated bubbles of forest honey."

Notwithstanding this eloquent plea and truthful statement, the Lawton is decidedly on the wane. It is so liable to be winter-killed, even with best of care, and its fruit is go unpalatable, in its half-ripe condition, that it has given place to a more successful rival, the Kittatinny—discovered in Warren County, K. J., growing in a forest near the mountains, whose Indian name has become a household word from association with this most delicious fruit. Mr. Wolverton, in finding it, has done more for the world than if he had opened a gold mine. Under good culture, the fruit is very large; sweet, rich, and melting, when fully ripe, but rather sour and hard when immature. It reaches its best condition if allowed to ripen fully on the vines; but the majority of pickers use their hands only, and no more think of making nice discriminations than of questioning nature according to the Baconian method. They gather all that are black, or nearly so; but if this half-ripe fruit is allowed to stand in some cool, dry place for about twelve hours, Kittatinny berries may be had possessing nearly all their luscious qualities. The plant is an upright and very vigorous grower, exceedingly productive if soil and culture are suitable. Its leaves are long-pointed, "finely and unevenly serrate." The season of fruiting is medium, continuing from four to six weeks, if moisture is maintained. Both of these varieties are derived from the Rubus villosus species.

In contrast is the next-best known sort, Wilson's Early—having many of the characteristics of the Dewberry, or running blackberry, and, therefore, representing the second species described, R. Canadensis. Whether it is merely a sport from this species, or a hybrid between it and the first-named or high blackberry, cannot be accurately known, I imagine; for it also was found growing wild by Mr. John Wilson, of Burlington, N. J. Under high culture, and with increasing age, the plants become quite erect and stocky growers, but the ends of the cane are drooping. Frequently, they trail along the ground, and root at the tips, like the common Dewberry; and they rarely grow so stocky but that they can be bent over and covered with earth or litter, as is the case with the tender raspberries. It is well that this is possible, for it has so little power of resisting frost that a winter of ordinary severity kills the canes in the latitude of New York. I have always covered mine, and thus secured, at slight expense, a sure and abundant crop. The fruit is earlier than the Kittatinny, and tends to ripen altogether in about ten days. These advantages, with its large size and firmness, make it a valuable market berry in New Jersey, where hundreds of acres of it have been planted, and where it is still very popular. Throughout the North and West, it has been found too tender for cultivation, unless protected. In flavor, it is inferior to the Kittatinny or Snyder.

For many years, the great desideratum has been a perfectly hardy blackberry, and this want has at last been met in part by the Snyder, a Western variety that seems able to endure, without the slightest injury, the extremes of temperature common in the Northwestern States. From Nebraska eastward, I have followed its history, and have never heard of its being injured by frost. It originated on, or in the vicinity of, Mr. Snyder's farm, near La Porte, Ind., about 1851, and is an upright, exceedingly vigorous, and stocky grower, a true child of the R. vittosus. Its one fault is that it is not quite large enough to compete with those already described. On moist land, with judicious pruning, it could be made to approach them very nearly, however, while its earliness, hardiness, fine flavor, and ability to grow and yield abundantly almost anywhere, will lead to an increasing popularity. For home use, size is not so important as flavor and certainty of a crop. It is also more nearly ripe when first black than any other kind that I have seen; its thorns are straight, and therefore less vicious. I find that it is growing steadily in favor; and where the Kittatinny is winter-killed, this hardy new variety leaves little cause for repining.

There are several kinds that are passing out of cultivation, and not a few new candidates for favor; but the claims of superiority are as yet too doubtful to be recognized. Mr. James Wilson, of West Point, N. Y., found some magnificent wild berries growing on Crow Nest Mountain. The bush that bore them is now in my garden, and if it should produce fruit having a flavor equal to Rodman Drake's poem, Mr. Wilson has, then, found something more real than a "Culprit Fay." Occasionally, a thornless blackberry is heralded, and not a few have reason to recall the "Hoosac," which was generally found, I think, about as free from fruit as thorns. We have, also, the horticultural paradox of white blackberries, in the "Crystal," introduced by Mr. John B. Orange, of Albion, Illinois, and some others. They have little value, save as curiosities.

PROPAGATION, CULTURE, ETC.

In most instances I think more difficulty would be found in making a blackberry die than live. A plant set out in fall or early spring will thrive if given the ghost of a chance. Late spring planting, however, often fails if subjected to heat and drought while in the green, succulent condition of early growth. Like the raspberry, the blackberry should be set, if possible, while in a dormant condition. If planted late, shade should be given and moisture maintained until danger of wilting and shrivelling is past. I advise decidedly against late spring plantings on a large scale, but in early spring planting I have rarely lost a plant. Almost all that has been said concerning the planting and propagation of raspberries applies to this fruit. Set the plants two or three inches deeper than they were before. With the exception of the early Wilson, all speedily propagate themselves by suckers, and this variety can be increased readily by root cuttings. Indeed, better plants are usually obtained from all varieties by sowing slips of the root, as has already been explained in the paper on raspberries.

The treatment of the blackberry can best be indicated by merely noting wherein its requirements differ from the last-named and kindred fruit. For instance, it does best on light soils and in sunny exposures. The partial shade, and moist, heavy land in which the raspberry luxuriates would produce a rank growth of canes that winter would generally find unripened, and unable to endure the frost. Warm, well-drained, but not dry land, therefore, is the best. On hard, dry ground, the fruit often never matures, but becomes mere collections of seeds. Therefore the need in the preparation of the soil of deep plowing, and the thorough loosening, if possible, of the subsoil with the lifting plow. Any one who has traced blackberry roots in light soils will seek to give them foraging-room. Neither does this fruit require the fertility needed in most instances by the raspberry. It inclines to grow too rankly at best, and demands mellowness rather than richness of soil.

More room should also be given to the blackberry than to the raspberry. The rows should be six feet apart in the garden and eight feet in field culture, and the plants set three feet apart in the rows. At this distance, 1,815 are required for an acre, if one plant only is placed in a hill. Since these plants are usually cheap, if one is small or unprovided with good roots, it is well to plant two. If the ground is not very fertile, it is well to give the young plants a good start by scattering a liberal quantity of muck compost down the furrow in which they are planted. This ensures the most vigorous growth of young canes in the rows rather than in the intervening spaces. As generally grown, they require support, and may be staked as raspberries. Very often, cheap post-and-wire trellises are employed, and answer excellently. Under this system they can be grown in a continuous and bushy row, with care against over-crowding.

The ideal treatment of the blackberry is management rather than culture. More can be done with the thumb and finger at the right time than with the most savage pruning-shears after a year of neglect. In May and June the perennial roots send up vigorous shoots that grow with amazing rapidity, until from five to ten feet high. Very often, this summer growth is so brittle and heavy with foliage, that thunder-gusts break them off from the parent stem just beneath the ground, and the bearing cane of the coming year is lost. These and the following considerations show the need of summer pruning. Tall, overgrown canes are much more liable to be injured by frost. They need high and expensive supports. Such branchless canes are by no means so productive as those which are made to throw out low and lateral shoots. They can always be made to do this by a timely pinch that takes off the terminal bud of the cane. This stops its upward growth, and the buds beneath it, which otherwise might remain dormant, are immediately forced to become side branches near the ground, where the snow may cover them, and over which, in the garden, straw or other light litter may be thrown, on the approach of winter. It thus is seen that by early summer pinching the blackberry may be compelled to become as low and bushy a shrub as we desire, and is made stocky and self-supporting at the same time. Usually it is not well to let the bushes grow over four feet high; and in regions where they winter-kill badly, I would keep them under three feet, so that the snow might be a protection. It should be remembered that the Kittatinny is so nearly hardy that in almost all instances a very slight covering saves it. The suckers that come up thickly between the rows can be cut away while small with the least possible trouble; but leave the patch or field to its own wild impulses for a year or so, and you may find a "slip of wilderness" in the midst of your garden that will require not a little strength and patience to subdue. By far the best weapon for such a battle, and the best implement also for cutting out the old wood, is a pair of long-handled shears.