1859. 



NEW ENGLAND FAEJIER. 



551 



with him, and he will soon appreciate, and re- fruit raising, it often looks strange to me that so 

 ward it, by his obedience. It' is hard to teach large a majority of orchards should be left to 



1 , , ,, 11 1 „„„, j„- 1 „ take care of themselves, and then charged Vv'ith 



an old horse, as well as an old dog, new tricks , , „ ,. e -^c ^ i -^ i i ^ *t, 



, .„ ' , . . , ,° . ... , biame tor unfruitfulness, when it belongs to the 



but if you can change a vicious habit, it will only owner. D. Taber. 



be by kindness. i Vassalboro', 1859. 



GOOD CROP OF OXIONS— HINT FOR A NEAV LAAV. 



As you and your numerous subscribers are al- 

 ways glad to hear of a good crop, and how pro- 

 cured, I will state for mutual benefit, that Mr. I'C. 

 Drake, one of my neighbors, raised on 7 J rods 

 of land, 36.i bushels of silver skin onions, worth 

 80 cents on the ground ; yielding him the neat 

 little profit of $20. He used hog manure and 

 ashes. 



Will our Legislature pass a law this coming 

 winter, making it a criminal offence for every 

 robin detected in stealing our cherries, strawber- 

 ries, currants, &c. ? 



We have a very stringent law for one race of 

 bipeds, of tne genus homo species. Should a poor 

 half-starved boy pick up an apple, or get a few 

 cherries or currants to eat, they fine him $100, 

 or send him to the Reform School, — the mean 

 little rascal ! But don't hurt the poor robins, 

 they are of more consequence than those whom 

 Christ called fit for Heaven. C. Clark. 



BtougUon, Oct. 10, 1859. 



Remarks. — Thank you, friend Taber ; we 

 hope to hear from you often. These are the 

 kind of facts to set people thinking, and actings 

 too. 



For the New England Farmer. 



■WHY DON'T MY ORCHARD PRODUCE 



BETTER? 



The above inquiry is often made, and with 

 some, at least, I apprehend, without much inves- 

 tigation to ascertain for themselves the cause, 

 which, in most cases, to a close observer and a 

 rational thinker, would be found so plain as to 

 need no reply. 



I will instance one case of a similar inquiry, 

 out of many of a similar character, that might 

 be added. A neighbor, pointing to his orchard, 

 wished to know what I thought could be the rea- 

 son that his trees, which used to bear so finely, 

 and which were not old, had for several years 

 become so barren ? I asked him how long it had 

 been mowed without manure ? His reply was, 

 sixteen or seventeen years. I asked him how 

 long he thought his cornfield would produce un- 

 der similar treatment ? Well, he supposed it 

 wouldn't do very well ; but he didn't know but 

 apple trees would bear without manure ? Such 

 are the limited views of some ; but it is proba- 

 ble there are but few farmers, or fruit cultivators 

 but that would reason very dift'erently. 



I visited another orchard in Nova Scotia of 

 about two hundred trees ; the ground was in a 

 good state of cultivation, and the trees and fruit 

 showed a very striking contrast to the one allud- 

 ed to above, and the results much more satisfac- 

 tory. The proprietor informed me that he sold 

 his apples the preceding fall for $1200, and he 

 thought his present crop would be five hundred 

 barrels, worth two dollars per barrel, giving him 

 $2200 for two years. 



It is an old, and I think, true maxim, that what 

 is worth doing is worth well doing; and as it 

 has been proved beyond question, that no part 

 of farming will reward the husbandman equal to 



EXAMPLE IN A POPLAR TREE 



OF WHAT NATURE WILL EFFECT WHEN ASSISTED 

 BY ART. 



On the 10th of August, 1842, the lightning 

 struck our Lombardy Poplar tree, not far from 

 the house, with a crash as though the house it- 

 self had fallen in ruins. This tree, at 18 feet from 

 the ground, branches out into three principal 

 leaders. The one which faces the west received 

 the full force of the thunder storm, and it exhibit- 

 ed an excavation of 26 feet in length, and at one 

 part of 22 inches in breadth. Independent of 

 this sad stroke at the western side of tne tree, its 

 bole to the north was struck at the same time, 

 and denuded of its bark to the extent of 6 feet by 

 14 inches. Some idea may be formed of the vast 

 injury which this tree received when the reader 

 learns that I picked up fragments of its wood full 

 [50 yards from the spot where it stands. 



After a close inspection of the lacerated parts 

 1 1 conjectured that there was still enough of solid 

 wood remaining to resist the violence of the win- 

 ; try wind. Having cut out all the shattered parts, 

 I placed a series of thick slates on a solid bed of 

 mortar, quite up to where the tree takes its three 

 leaders: thus forming a hard and permanent cov- 

 ering of 18 feet in extent. At the edges of the 

 slates we applied Roman cement nicely sloped 

 I off; so that the future wood and bark might have 

 i an easy passage over them, at each returning sea- 

 son, for increase of growth. Thus, all being ren- 

 ' dered safe from wind and rain we ceased our 

 j work, and left the tree to Nature's healing care. 

 She has not disappointed us. Yesterday I got 

 up into the tree, and I inspected minutely the in- 

 jured parts throughout their whole extent. Their 

 condition was prosperous in every point of view. 

 I The new wood and bark have rolled over the 

 slates to a close or joining within 11 inches, bind- 

 ing the slates down in an everlasting prison. 



A Spanish proverb says : "Thou art welcome, 

 evil, if thou comest alone." But, in this instance, 

 our poor poplar could not have such a consola- 

 tion ; for another thunder-storm broke over it, 

 and the lightning struck it on the northern side, 

 riving off the l)ark for a space of 33 feet in length, 

 and at places of 15 inches in width. Singular to 

 tell, no apparent injury was inflicted on the wood 

 itself. The bark alone had sufiered, so that a 

 new supply of slates and mortar was not required. 

 This victim to the lightning's fearful rage is now 

 in health and vigor, whilst its summer foliage is 

 of as rich a hue as that of its surrounding neigh- 

 bors. Should future tempests spare it, the tree 

 will be quite right again in a few years more ; 

 and its bole will be as beautiful as I remember 

 it in times long gone by. The day may come 



