36 My Little Farm 



I was building a house. It must stand on the 

 limestone gravel, with a drainage at least three 

 feet lower, which, on discharge, meant a con- 

 siderable outer cutting, permanently open, and in 

 some places nine feet deep. This by-product of 

 the builder's plan gave me an outlet from the bog, 

 and next summer I had the pools on fire, burning 

 out as much as I could of the bog vegetation, and 

 leaving a seed bed of ashes for clover. The stuff 

 dug for the foundation of the buildings must go 

 somewhere. I carted it on to the bog, increasing 

 the seed bed, and harrowed all down after a little 

 levelling of the bank edges. This was in summer. 

 Late in autumn I applied 7 cwt. to the acre of a 

 mixture two parts of best superphosphate to one 

 part of best kainit, and harrowed down again. 

 Harrowing is cheap, and it assists the action of 

 air on the soil. Next March, I seeded down my 

 bog-track with Italian ryegrass and broad-leaved 

 English red clover, choosing both for their capacity 

 to grow high, bush out, and kill everything but 

 themselves. I rolled the place heavily and 

 repeatedly during the spring drought to close 

 cracks and to prevent the peat drying to a greater 

 depth than the deepening roots of the clover. 



In June, I had, surely, the strangest crop ever 

 seen in Ireland* sedge, bent, sorrel, bog cotton, 

 heather and rushes, with clover and rye grass 

 looking fine and steadily suppressing the native 

 competitors ; but what must I do with this 

 curious " crop " ? It occurred to me that if I 



* Sections were shown at Ballsbridge. 



