ation of man.

As May advanced, I could see the fruit forming in clusters that gave
token of an ample crop. But as the heat increased I found that other
candidates for observation presented themselves in prodigious numbers,
not near so interesting, but imperatively demanding attention. The weeds
shot up all through and between the rows with a luxuriance that
astonished me. The winter reading of my agricultural library had taught
me that good strawberries cannot be expected when a rank growth of weeds
is permitted to occupy the soil. My father's garden-tools were heavy and
clumsy, made only for a strong man to use; but we plied the hoes
vigorously in keeping down the interlopers. They were dull tools, with
thick handles, unsuitable for women's use, so that the mere weight of
the implements fatigued us more than the labor of hoeing. But all the
family shared in this work until it was accomplished, and our ground was
made as cleanly as that of our neighbors. Besides the extermination of a
host of pests that sucked up the nutriment and moisture necessary to the
plants, the operation kept the surface of the ground open and mellow,
permitting the sun and air to penetrate, and thus stimulate the growing
fruit into berries of superior size. I am sure that it is by attention
to this single matter of permitting no weeds to grow that most of the
success in strawberry-culture may be attributed.

As I watched my fruit-laden plants as attentively as if each one had
been an infant, it should not be wondered at that my ever-present eye
detected the first tinge of redness that showed itself among them. No
one can imagine with how absorbing an interest I hung over this pioneer
evidence of complete success. I could tell which row contained it, and
on which plant in the row a blushing cheek was held up to the sun. But
in a day or two the identity of the ripening berry was lost, for a
thousand of its fellows became equally ambitious of notice, changing
their delicate green into a softened, but decided scarlet. The hot suns
of early June were pouring down upon the sheltered spot where the plants
were growing, and it was time for them to ripen their wealth of fruit. I
presume that he who boasts the possession of a dozen acres of
strawberries has never experienced sensations such as were now the
ruling ones of my heart. Here was I--a sewing-girl--breaking through the
ordinary routine of female occupations, and standing on the threshold of
an