386 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



Arc. 



dergoing the fattening process, and which has 

 now become common and almost universal in 

 every part of the country where geese are raised 

 and fattened fur the market. Not only the goose, 

 but domestic fowls generally, are greatly benefit- 

 ed by it. 



For the New England Farmer. 



POISON OF CHERRY LEAVES. 



Mr. Editor : — Farmers are generally aware, I 

 suppose, of the poisonous effects of the wilted 

 leaves of the wild cherry, which ai-e said to be, 

 if eaten in any quantity, invariably fatal to cat- 

 tle — or, at least, no remedy effectually neutral- 

 izing those effects is known among us here. But 

 has it heretofore been known that there is dan- 

 ger, also, from the wilted leaves of the English, 

 or cultivated cherry 1 A piece of experience I 

 have just had, and which has occasioned me no 

 little disappointment, looks that way certainly. 



I was raising, this season, a very fine, promis- 

 ing heifer calf, nine weeks old last Monday, half 

 Alderney and three-eighths Ayrshire, every mark 

 upon which was good. For convenience of shade 

 and to nibble the grass, unsuspicious of danger, 

 I kept it tethered for some weeks, during the 

 day, under some white-leaved cherry trees, in the 

 front 3'_ard, where it became a cosset and play- 

 mate with the children, and, until the evening 

 of the 4th, gave every manifestation of high 

 vigor, growing rapidly, and being full of fun and 

 frolic. The trees, meanwhile, had not been as- 

 cended for the purpose of picking the cherries. 

 A week or more ago, however, the children be- 

 gan to get up into the trees after the fruit, and, 

 in doing so, often broke off and dropped on the 

 ground the little spurs on which clusters of cher- 

 ries had grown. These spurs, with three or four 

 leaves on each of them, for some days have been 

 lying about on the grass in several places ; but I 

 never observed the calf eating them, though I 

 saw it, once or twice, strip off and chew little 

 pieces of bark from the boles of the trees. Mean- 

 time, I was teaching it to eat by putting pieces 

 of carrot, sliced thin, into its mouth, and by giv- 

 ing it, occasionally, bits of young fodder-corn, 

 (Stowell's evergreen.) But one symptom, of 

 •which, no doubt, I ought to have thought more, 

 had occurred. For several days the calf had been 

 noticed very costive, straining and showing con- 

 siderable uneasiness Avhenever it had occasion to 

 drop, its droppings being more like a sheep's 

 than those of a calf. Still, no suspicion of the 

 cause had presented itself to my mind, and I felt 

 no alarm. 



On the evening of the 4th, as has been stated, 

 indications were observed of an alarming nature. 

 Then, for the first time, on being led to the barn, 

 the calf manifested no disposition to play, but 

 moved sluggishly. Tliat evening it sucked a very 

 little, leaving most of the milk in the bag. The 

 next morning, though manifesting some wish to 

 get to the cow, it did not suck at all, but it poked 

 its head about its dam's legs, and repeatedly put 

 its mouth to the teats. Symptoms of partial 

 blindness were also indicated. Advice was called, 

 an injection of warm water and castile soap 

 given, and castor-oil administered ; but the effect 

 was slight ; only a few hardened fseces were 



dropped, and the animal continued to grow worse. 

 On the evening of the 5th, additional advice from 

 another more experienced person was sought ; 

 and he, observing a certain frothing about the 

 mouth and gritting of the teeth, pronounced the 

 creature poisoned ; and, learning where I had 

 kept the calf, gave me the first hint I had received 

 of the dangerous nature to cattle of cherry leaves. 

 He administered, that evening, as much as he 

 could get down of half a pint of lamp oil, and 

 again about the same quantity the next morning, 

 (the 6th.) No effect appearing, in about an 

 hour's time I gave another injection of warm 

 water and soap, which produced a few hardened 

 droppings, but no effectual relief. It may lie 

 well enough to state that I had a little practice 

 of something like '■^viotorpathif in this case, as, 

 finding the intestinal action sluggish, if not en- 

 tirely destroyed, I hoped to restore it, and, at the 

 same time, aid the operation of the physic, by 

 gently working the abdomen with my handS — an 

 operation which, in cholic, in the human species, 

 is often highly eflicacious. The difiiculty, how- 

 ever, had got too far to be removed, though I 

 think some effect in the w.ay I intended was pro- 

 duced. Nature was now nearly exhausted. In 

 a short time the poor creature began to tremble 

 violently, then to move round and round, as if 

 tipsy and crazy, moaning piteously, knocking its 

 head the while against any obstacle that came in 

 its way, and finally dropped down and expired. 

 After death, the body was not opened, as I could 

 find no one willing to do it. It soon began to 

 bloat, and, as soon as could be conveniently, it 

 was buried. 



Now, Mr. Editor, does it appear clear to you, 

 from the above statement, that the wilted cherry 

 leaves, which the calf probably ate, were the 

 cause of its death 1 Or was it something else, as 

 others still assert 1 I have heard of the death of 

 two or three calves in this town, this spring, in a 

 manner equally sudden, and, if any thing, more 

 inexplicable. Does wind, as some say, ever occa- 

 sion death in calves ? Respectfully yours, 



Bolton, July 8, 1855. r. s. e. 



Remarks. — From the above statement, we have 

 no doubt, whatever, that eating the cherry leaves 

 was the cause of the sickness and death of your 

 favorite calf. Similar cases have been occasion- 

 ally brought to our notice through many past 

 years. This clear narrative of facts, by R. S. E., 

 ought to operate as a caution to all, not to let 

 their cattle have access to cherry leaves. 



For the New England Farmer. 



THE BUTTONWOOD TREES. 



We have noticed in this section, this season, 

 that the buttonwood, or buttonball trees, are 

 more or less diseased. They began to leave out 

 as usual, and after the leaves were about half out 

 they began to dry up, so that some three-quarters 

 of the leaves are dead. A few leaves on the top 

 and outside branches are yet fresh. Trees of all 

 sizes, from three inches to a foot and a half in di- 

 ameter at the bole, are alike affected here. Occa- 

 sionally we see a small tree that has escaped as 

 yet. Some fourteen or fifteen years ago, these 



