Birds and Nature, Vol. 12 No. 3 [August 1902]

Roselle Theodore Cross.

THE TOMATO

(Lycopersicum esculentum.)

The tomato is an herbaceous plant, belonging to the nightshade family (Solanaceae), the same family to which the potato and tobacco belong. It has numerous rather large, showy, cut leaves, which are more or less woolly, due to numerous hair cells or trichomes. It has numerous not attractive or pleasant smelling flowers, with numerous yellow or red berries, which vary in size and form. It is a native of South America, but is very extensively cultivated in nearly all countries excepting the cold northern regions. In 1596 it was introduced into England as an ornamental and medicinal plant. Previous to about 1840 it was little used in the United States, but now it is very extensively grown in green houses, gardens and as a farm crop. For an early crop the seed is planted in a hot bed, so that the plants may be of suitable size for transplanting as soon as the danger of frost is past. The plants are placed three or four feet apart in fairly rich soil and the soil frequently tilled and kept free from weeds. The plants grow about three or four feet high, become quite spreading and rank so that it is desirable to tie the top portions to stakes driven into the ground to keep the plants upright; this procedure is also of advantage in ripening the fruit.

Botanically, the fruit is a berry, and before ripening is of a bright green color, changing to red in the red variety and to yellow in the yellow variety. The same plant bears flowers and ripe fruits, so that fruits may be gathered for a considerable period.

Tomatoes have a peculiar flavor and somewhat acid taste when ripe. The pulp contains many seeds. As with other garden plants, there are numerous culture varieties. Some are no larger than cherries. Some are pear-shaped; others large and flattened at the ends. Some are nearly spherical, others quite irregular. The ripe fruits must be gathered promptly, as they decay very readily and quickly.

At the present time the tomato is very little used medicinally, but is very extensively used as an article of diet. Picked green they are pickled either alone or mixed with other vegetables. The ripened fruit is prepared in a multitude of ways. Peeled and sliced raw, adding salt, pepper, vinegar and sugar. Boiled in soups, mixed with sauces, baked or fried entire, fried or baked, mashed, mixed with stale bread and seasoned, etc. There is a popular superstition that eating tomatoes to excess causes cancer. Tomato preserves are highly relished by some; likewise tomato pies.

The general opinion prevails among scientists, as well as laymen, that the tomato is nourishing and wholesome. It is certainly harmless when ripe, but the green pickled preparations are not nourishing nor particularly wholesome. The notion that pickles aid digestion is a mistaken one. The spices added may stimulate, but the green fruit particles are not digestible.

The word tomato is of American Indian origin. The popular name love apples (German Liebesæpfel) is a translation of the French pomme d’amour, which is a corruption of pomo dei Mori, a name derived from Morocco. The Germans also designate them apples of Paradise (Paradiesæpfel).

The entire plant, including flowers and green fruit, have a somewhat heavy, disagreeable odor, a characteristic common to many members of the nightshade family.

Albert Schneider.

THE BROOK

I come from haunts of coot and hern,I make a sudden sally,And sparkle out among the fern,To bicker down a valley.By thirty hills I hurry down,Or slip between the ridges,By twenty thorps, a little town,And half a hundred bridges.I chatter over stony ways,In little sharps and trebles,I bubble into eddying bays,I babble on the pebbles.I wind about, and in and out,With here a blossom sailing,And here and there a lusty trout,And here and there a grayling.* * * * * *I steal by lawns and grassy plots,I slide by hazel covers;I move the sweet forget-me-nots,That grow for happy lovers.I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,Among my skimming swallows;I make the netted sunbeam danceAgainst my sandy shallows.And out again I curve and flowTo join the brimming river;For men may come and men may go,But I go on forever.– Alfred Tennyson.