that clothes the earth. "Before literature existed, before governments were known, agriculture was the calling of And all the fruits of social progress since then grew from the brown soil."

man.

The soil changes its clothing.-The clothing of the earth is a changing one. It is of as many colors as the coat of Joseph. And this clothing changes not in color only, but in texture, in wearing ability, in usefulness. For are there not many soils that had poverty as their inheritance and still others that had only the fullest riches? Yet both kinds meet at a common point so often the rich have become poor, the poor have become rich.

All over our land this change is observed. To man's credit, however, we are now at a point in farming where this may be corrected, for we realize that the soil is capable of change and of improvement: it offers a great opportunity for thought and study. Applied here, knowledge brings abundant returns.

The soil and the subsoil.-There are two layers of this clothing: the soil and the subsoil, and of course we must give due weight to both with any discussion of crop production or in any method of land management. In both soil and subsoil are found organic and inorganic materials, although the subsoil contains a greater portion of the latter substances than the soil immediately over it.

It is in both of these layers that the roots of plants grow, and now that we know more about roots than we did a few years ago, we ought to be able to handle lands with greater certainty and to grow crops with more profit. We know where roots grow; we know the places in which they feed and just how they do their work. Is this not a practical turn? Roots grow from their tips, and at these points they gather food and drink. With the passing of

a little time the tip end is sent further on in the search; it grows longer; it finds a new place to take nourishment.

The roots grow on and on and new root hairs form, taking their nutriment from the new and fresh pastures. So all about in the soil they go, just below the surface, a little deeper in the soil top; even in the subsoil (if they can enter it), and all the while they search and seek for plant food that the great body above may be supplied.

Fertility is more than soil.-And we should bear in mind that fertility is more than a mere abundance of plant food in the soil (we have learned more about the soil). Fertility is plant food, of course, but in part, only. It is water-just the right amount and served when needed. It is climate-neither too cold nor too hot for the particular plant. It is texture-soil grains of proper size and in proper relation to control heat, moisture, and air. It is humus-a goodly amount to supply nitrogen as required, and to help in making pleasant and comfortable the home of the roots. It is tillage-the real, true sort of tillage that provides tilth and mellowness. It is

the plant-the right kind for the particular soil. Fertility springs from these and from all other contributions that secure a soil environment to the liking of the growing plant. Hence, the plant food of the soil is an incident, but a necessary incident, just as heat and air and water and tillage and texture are incidents and prerequisites of high production.

SOILS

CHAPTER I

THE SOIL MAKERS

Do not think, gentle reader, that I am going to weary you with a long discussion about the history of the ground. The only misgivings the author has had in the preparation of this volume has been the necessity of saying these few words that follow about the soil makers, the agencies that have been at work making the soil. Important? Yes, in a way; but if you see the matter as I do, you are more interested in having the soil demonstrate what it can do now, rather than to inquire into its line of descent; to be familiar with its ability to do work and to perform to-day, rather than to know its ancestral life of long years ago.

First effort in soil making.-To find the first effort in soil making we shall have to go back to a time far into the past; back before man had appeared; farther back yet than the time when plants had begun their existence. For is it not true that plants must have raiment for their roots-earth in which they may grow and out of which they may get food and drink?

We shall have to go back--very far back in the past— when the surface was cooling and forming its crust, when the entire surface of the earth was rock-no animals, no cultivated crops, no trees, no grass-not even the tiniest form of bug or plant or beast.

For at this time the earth was void and without form,

although surrounded by an atmosphere of mist and vapor. When this rocky and molten mass of earth began to cool, its crust became broken and uneven. But no soil was there, only hard, fire-burned rock. Then centuries passed-thousands and thousands of them. The molten mass had cooled. The darkness that was on the face of the deep gave way to light and change. For the light came from the sun and these rays the rocks absorbed. They felt the refining influence, also, of the air as it played over the wrinkled faces of rock and cliff. At first these two agencies made but little, if any, impression. So hard was the rock, what might air and sunshine do?

But busy bodies, that are at work always and ever, gradually gain their ends, and so these first rocks, now cold, now warm but yet so hard and strong-and so brutalslowly gave up their determined tenacity and lost some of their strength and hidden power. A little softening, and they were changed, just as the refining influence of good air and much sunshine refines the plant or beast or man that comes under their spell and change.