In ordering from a nursery I should ask for vigorous, well-rooted two-year-old vines, and I should be almost as well contented with first-class one-year-olds. If any one should advertise “extra large, strong vines, ready to bear at once,” I should have nothing to do with him. That’s a nursery trick to get rid of old stock. The first year after the shock of removal a vine should not be permitted to bear at all; and a young vigorous vine is worth a dozen old stunted ones.
Having procured the vines, keep them in a cool, moist place until ready to plant. Never permit the roots to become dry; and if some of them are long and naked, shorten them to two feet, so as to cause them to throw out side fibrous roots, which are the true feeders. Excavate holes of ample size, so that all the roots may be spread out naturally. If you have reason to think the ground is not very good, two or three quarts of fine bone-dust thoroughly mixed with the soil that is placed on and about the roots will give a fine send-off. Usually a good mulch of any kind of barnyard manure placed on the surface after planting will answer all purposes. Before filling in the hole over the roots, place beside the vine a stout stake six or seven feet high. This will be all the support required the first year. Cut back the young vine to three buds, and after they get well started, let but one grow. If the planting is done in the fall, mound the earth up over the little vine at the approach of winter, so as to cover it at least six inches below the surface. In spring uncover again as soon as hard frosts are over—say early April in our latitude. Slow-growing varieties, like the Delaware, may be set out six feet apart; strong growers, like the Concord, eight feet. Vines can not be expected to thrive under the shade of trees, or to fight an unequal battle in ground filled with the roots of other plants.
Vines may be set out not only in the garden borders, but also in almost any place where their roots will not be interfered with, and where their foliage will receive plenty of light and air. How well I remember the old Isabella vines that clambered on a trellis over the kitchen door at my childhood’s home! In this sunny exposure, and in the reflected heat of the building, the clusters were always the sweetest and earliest ripe. A ton of grapes may be secured annually by erecting trellises against the sides of buildings, walls, and poultry yard, while at the same time the screening vines furnish grateful shade and no small degree of beauty. With a little petting, such scattered vines are often enormously productive. An occasional pail of soapsuds gives them a drink which eventually flushes the thickly hanging clusters with exquisite color. People should dismiss from their minds the usual method of European cultivation, wherein the vines are tied to short stakes, and made to produce their fruit near the ground. This method can be employed if we find pleasure in the experiment.


