1858. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



231 



twenty-three cents per bushel, when corn was 

 worth seventy-five, and good hay could be bought 

 at seven dollars per ton, (sixty pounds for twenty 

 cents,) to feed his stock with. Another brought 

 me corn, in the ear, in the spring, and took car- 

 rots, bushel for bushel, to feed his horses. 



I can pay interest on land and taxes, within 

 the corporation of Attica village, and raise car- 

 rots for ten cents per bushel, one season with 

 another. On cheaper land, exempt from corpo- 

 ration taxes, I think farmers generally can pro- 

 duce them for from four to eight cents, and pay 

 all charges. 



"P." finds trouble in keeping them. Build, in 

 the cellar of the barn, cribs, such as you would 

 use for corn, and I think they will keep Avell. A 

 slight freeze will not hurt them. A little sand 

 scattered in among them, will tend to keep them 

 fresh. 



I have spoken only of carrots, as this root is 

 at once the best, the surest and the most prolific 

 ci'op. But to supply our city and village markets, 

 every kind of edible "root" will pay well, as those 

 who try it will know. 



As to the "medicine" for stock, I like the id^a 

 — but have no fear of its bad effects in Allopathic 

 doses. My cow is not harmed by a half bushel 

 a day. It ^'doeth good, like a medicine," as Solo- 

 mon says of a merry heart, and as I think all 

 "medicines," we take, should do. — Rural Kew- 

 Yorker. 



For the New Enf^land Farmer. 

 T^OODLAWD. 



There seems to be a growing conviction in the 

 minds of intelligent observers that too much 

 land has been "cleared up," in our vicinity at 

 least. Large tracts of "plain" land are often 

 seen by the traveller, which hardly pay for fencing. 

 Grass grows sparingly on such lands through the 

 moist weather of June, but the hot summer 

 months dry up the half-covered soil so thorough- 

 ly that vegetation nearly ceases. 



Having spent much time the past month in the 

 "woods," my attention has been directed to the 

 comparative value of woodland over other open 

 fields similarly situated. 



Li the first place the climate of the forest is 

 more favorable to vegetable growth. In winter 

 the ground freezes to a less depth than in pas- 

 ture land. There is always more or l^'^s rubbish 

 on the surface — brush, twigs and leaves, wh'ch 

 protect tender roots from injurious freezing. 

 Moisture and heat are indispensable conditions 

 for rapid growth. Every one has observed how 

 much faster the grass gains when it has become 

 high enough to remain damp till mid-day. Now 

 in the woods there is sufficient heat for the growth 

 of trees in summer, and the ground in the shade 

 of the thick branches, covered with decaying veg- 

 etable mould, is in the best possible condition. 



The effects of boisterous winds are much less 

 unfavorable on forest lands than on open fields. 

 Storms of rain and driving showers are broken 

 by groves of trees, and the needed moisture 

 drops softly down up^ n the spongy earth. 



In the mysterious operations of nature the at- 

 mos])here receives from the earth invisible gases, 

 which can only be arrested, fixed and returned 

 to the earth, through vegetable forms. 



Now every leaf is a lung, whose principal office 

 is to breathe the passing air, and transform, by 

 its wonderfully delicate functions, the wandering 

 atoms into solid oak. The grass, the grain, spread 

 their network but a few feetupwards. But through 

 what a space do the forest giants fling their broad 

 arms ! 



The demand for wood and timber will probably 

 continually increase until the price reaches that 

 of European countries. In Paris wood is sold in 

 small packages by weight. In Iceland no fuel is 

 used except for cooking. In Buenos Ayres Avood 

 is so scarce that the common peach tree is culti- 

 vated for fuel. Immense fields are planted, and 

 cut down when of sufficient size. 



But how different the practice in New Eng- 

 land. A piece of woodland is cut over. The fol- 

 lowing summer it is burned. Now in burning 

 there is always a great waste. The light, com- 

 bustible matter, which if let alone would gradually 

 decay and become wood again, is consumed ; and 

 the ground retains a slight covering of ashes, in- 

 stead of a heavy mulching. The land is plowed 

 with a "breaking up" team, which proves no joke 

 to him at the handles. Rye is sown, which grows, 

 generally, luxuriantly, stimulated by the ashes. 

 As the thrifty sprouts come up they are faithfully 

 grubbed down, until discouraged. Oftentimes a 

 second crop of rye is sown, which comes up spar- 

 ingly. Finally this beautiful piece of woodland 

 becomes the "old field," or "the plain," orna- 

 mented with mullens and protected by blackberry 

 vines ! 



The fact seems too often lost sight of, that, 

 when the young trees of a forest are cut oft" with 

 the large, (as they always should be, that no 

 bruised or broken sapling remain,) the sprouts 

 which spring up are always unusually thrifty. 

 They shoot up in a few years straight and prom- 

 ising. Now is there not a great waste in destroy- 

 ing such roots, so full of vitality, all alive and 

 planted ? 



The sad mistake of killing the goose that lay 

 the golden eggs is often made by the owners of 

 woodland. Rocky hillsides, only accessible in 

 deep snows, are often brought into grass by great 

 labor. And "pine plains," where nothing but 

 pines are profitable, are cleared of these. 



The fact is, a tree is not looked upon in its 

 true light. Dr. Holmes speaks of the lofty 

 elms as "nature's flagstaffs." He is to be pitied 

 who looks with no feelings of admiration upon a 

 beautiful grove. 'W^ho can pass the attractive 

 residence of our distinguished townsman, R. W. 

 Emerson, without acknowledging the marvellous 

 beauty of trees skilfully planted? But this is a 

 digression. I wish to speak of trees only as a 

 source of gain. 



I know that there are hundreds of acres of 

 poor pasture, now of trifling profit to the owner, 

 which were better in woodhnd. Just think, a 

 piece of woods takes care of itself. There is no 

 building of fence, or particular risk about the 

 pro])erty. 



To derive the greatest profit from any land, it 

 is necessary to have a good deal growing on it. 

 The gai'dener plants potatoes between his rows 

 of peas, so that when the peas are out of the way 

 the land may be still occupied. So turnips are 

 sown among corn on stony land, and gain pro- 

 digiously after the frost has killed the corn. 



