266 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



June 



For the Neio England Farmer. 

 PEABS ON QUINCE STOCKS. 



Mr. Editor : — As there has beei much said 

 about the pear on the orange quince, I -will tell 

 you my experience. I pull up the sprouts from 

 the roots of old quince bushes — the best come 

 from the ends of small roots — shape the roots and 

 tops, set them in rows three feet and a half apart, 

 and the sprouts about ten inches apart in the 

 rows, perhaps fourteen inches would be better. 

 When they are well rooted and large enough, 

 bud or graft them as near the ground as possible, 

 so that you can fetch the soil up over the joint. 

 Bud when the stock is half an inch in diameter 

 and graft when it is three-fourths of an inch. I 

 have thought that grafting was the best, but 

 either way will do well. 



The kinds that have failed with me are the 

 Bartlett, Golden Beurre, Dix, Russel, Seckel, 

 Glout Morceau, St. Michael, Passe Colmar, 

 Beurre Diel, and some others. The kinds that 

 grow and bear well, are the Louise Bonne de Jer- 

 sey, English Jargonelle, Napoleon, Duchess de 

 Angouleme and Beurre de Aremberg. The Thorn 

 and Sugar plum vrill do for stocks when we 

 know the kinds that will unite with them. 



I have a very thrifty Glout Morceau on the 

 sugar plum, full of blossom buds now ; I grafted 

 a wild pear into the thorn, which grew strong, 

 then budded and grafted into that the Dix, the 

 Seckel and Flemish Beauty, which are growing 

 finely, and the Flemish Beauty is now full of 

 blossom buds. 



I had a Passe Colmar on the thorn which grew 

 well for three years, then broke out, but it had 

 rooted above the joint. I removed the thorn 

 root, then set the tree down, and it is doing well 

 now. 



I have about sixty apple trees, from one to two 

 inches through ; some animal bites them in the 

 spring so as to loosen the bark from the ground 

 up one foot and a half. I lay it to the wood- 

 chucks, but my neighbor thinks it the skunk, for 

 he set a trap and caught the skunk and the trees 

 were not bit after that. 



I made a wash of one quart soft soap, quarter 

 of a pound of sulpher, a hoe full of green cow 

 manure, and five quarts water, and put it on with 

 a brush or swab ; the animal stuck his teeth in a 

 few times, but did not injure them afterwards. 

 Last fall I put the same wash on, to prevent the 

 mice, and I believe not a tree is injured where I 

 put it, while my neighbors complain that theirs 

 are injured by the mice. 



Oliver Butterfield. 

 Francestown, N. E., April 13, 1858. 



purchasers — but if we are compelled instead of 

 this to purchase an article, three-fourths or 

 more of which is composed of Jersey sand or 

 muck — why, all is,we shall not probably be caught 

 but once by that bait. 



Do please, Messrs. Manufacturers, give us a 

 pure article, and I will warrant you not to be 

 obliged to advertise for the address of farmers — 

 or have to make them a present of an almanac in 

 order to obtain their custom. At least, I will 

 promise you one purchaser. AV. J. P. 



Salisbury, Conn., April 22, 1858. 



For the New England Farmer. 

 POUDRETTE. 



I have often thought what a pity it was that so 

 valuable a fertilizer as our night soil should be 

 made almost wholly worthless in its manufacture 

 through the cupidity of those engaged in prepar- 

 ing it. 



No one will doubt for a moment but what pure 

 night-soil, with only just enough of foreign mat- 

 ter with it to deodorize and make it usable would 

 be one of our most valuable concentrated fertil- 

 izers, and as such, no doubt would find ready 



THE PREACHING OF THE TREES. 



FROM THE GERMAN OP ORBEN. 



At midnight liour, when silence reigns 



Thi'ougli all the woodland spaces, 

 Begin the bushes and the trees, 

 To wave and whisper in the hreeze, 

 All talking in their jilaces. 



The Rosebud flames with look of joy. 

 And perfumes breathes in glowing ; 



"A Rose's life is quickly past ! 



Then let me, while my time shall last. 

 Be richly, gaily blowing '." 



The Aspen whispers, "Sunken days ! 



Not me thy glare deceiveth ! 

 Thy sunbeam is a deadly dart, 

 That quivereth in the Rose's heart — 



My shuddering soul it grieveth !" 



The slender Poplar speaks, and seems 

 To stretch her green hands higher ; 

 "Up yonder life's pure river flows. 

 So sweetly murmurs, brightly glows, 

 To that I still aspire !" 



The Willow looks to earth and speaks : 



"My arm to fold thee yearneth, 

 I let my hair float down to thee ; 

 Entwine the rein thy flowers for me, 



As mother her child adorneth I" 



And next tlie wealthy Plum tree sighs ; 



"Alas ! my treasures crush me ! 

 This load with which my shoulders groan 

 Take off — it is not mine alone : 



By robbing you refresh me !" 



The Fir tree speaks In cheerful mood : 



"A blossom bore I never ; 

 But steadfastness is all my store, 

 In summer's heat and winter's roar, 



I keep my green forever !" 



The proud and lofty Oak tree speaks : 



"God's thunderbolt confounds me ! 



And yet no storm can bow me down, 



Strength is my stem and strength my crown ; 



Ye weak ones, gather round me !'' 



The Ivy vine kept close to him, 

 Her tendrils round him flinging ; 



"He who no strength has of bis own, 



Or loves not well to stand alone, 

 May to a friend be clinging '." 



Much else, now half-forgot, they said : 



And still to me came creeping. 

 Low whispered words, upon the air, 

 While by the grave alone stood there 



The Cypress mutely weeping. 



! might they reach one human heart. 



These tender accents creeping! 

 What wonder if they do not reach ! 

 The trees by starlight only preach, 



When we must needs be sleeping. 



