THE GENESEE FARMER. 



371 



may warm the surface, and give rue a good piece 

 of soil here." 



But it looked very foolish to Ben Grummet. He 

 believed that " what was the natur' of the soil 

 couldn't be altered." 



" That's a cur'us contrivance," said Sam Bancroft. 

 He and Ben Grummet had been at work for Walton 

 at hauling muck. He alluded to a large vat at the 

 back of the house, into which ran a spout from the 

 sink. The vat was capable of holding several cart- 

 loads of stuff, and was already half full. 



" That's a compost vat," explained Walton, who 

 had overheard the I'eraark. "All the slops from 

 the house, the soap-suds, and such stuff, which 

 most people waste, I save by this means, and turn 

 to good account; and instead of throwing away 

 refuse matter, I put it in here, and let it rot and 

 ferment, and make manure." 



"But what's this charcoal dust for?" 

 "It answers two purposes, though by only one 

 office. It takes up the ammonia and other volatile 

 matter, thus holding them for fertilizing agents; 

 and, at the same time, prevents the disagreeable 

 effluvia which would otherwise arise from such a 

 fermenting mass." 



" That all sounds very well," remarked Ben, af- 

 ter Walton had left them; "but, let me tell you, 

 it donH pay! He'd better let such fandangles 

 alone, if he ever expects to make a livin' at farmin'." 

 Before the ground froze in, Walton threw out 

 most of the muck behind his stable, which had be- 

 come well saturated, and filled the trench up anew. 

 The old farmers had a great many apple trees, 

 and made a great deal of cider ; but the fruit was 

 of an inferior quality. When spring came, Walton 

 went to some of his neighbors, and asked them to 

 go in with him, and send for some good scions to 

 engraft upon their apple trees. He explained to 

 them just the plan he had formed for his own orch- 

 ard. He had engaged a competent man to come 

 and do the work of grafting, and, while they were 

 about it, it would be cheaper to get grafts enough 

 for the whole neighborhood. 



It was of no use. The old orchards were just 

 such as their fathers had, and they were good 

 enough. So Walton went at it alone. He had his 

 trees all pruned and dressed, and nearly all of them 

 grafted to such fruit as he thought would thrive 

 best and sell best. 



A little while later, and Ben Grumm.et had occa- 

 sion to open his eyes. He found that John Walton 

 had contrived to have one hundred and forty full 

 loads of manure, all of which had been made within 

 the year. However, he finally shook his head, and 

 said, " Wait ; we'll see if it's good for anything." 



A little while later, and the grass began to spring 

 up on the twenty-acre lot as it had never sprung 

 up before. The two acres, which had been plowed 

 and harrowed up light and fine, bore the best crop 

 of corn that was grown in the whole county, and 

 and all the manure put upon it was some which 

 had been manufactured. 



And so the time went on, and John Walton was 

 continually studying how to improve his farm. At 

 the expiration of a few years, the new scions had 

 grown large and strong in his orchard, and began 

 to bear fruit. He had taken care of his trees, and 

 tliey were about ready to return him interest for 

 the labor. 



"Good gracious!" ejaculated Eben Sawyer, as 

 Ben Grummet and Sam Bancroft came into his 

 house one cool autumn evening, and the three filled 

 their mugs with new cider ; " have you heard about 

 John Walton's apples?" 



" I knew there was a man up to look at 'em," 

 returned Ben ; " but I ain't heard no more." 



" Well, I was there, and heerd the whole on't — 

 so I know — I never would 'ave thought it. An 

 orchard turn out like that!" 



" But how much was it?" 



" Why, Walton was offered — cash right down-^ 

 a hundred pounds for the apples he's got on hand ; 

 and he tells me that he sent nearly fifty pounds' 

 worth of early fruit off a month or more ago." 



It was wonderful — more than wonderful ! But 

 they had to believe it. 



"And look at that twenty-acre field," said Ban- 

 croft. "Ten years ago it wouldn't hardly pay for 

 mowin' ; now look at it. Think o' the corn and 

 wheat he's gained there; and this year he cut 

 more'n forty tons of good hay from it!" 



" But that ain't half," interposed Sawyer. " Look 

 at the stock he keeps ; and see what prices he gets 

 for his cows and oxen. Why, he tells me he's 

 cleared over four hundred pounds this year on his 

 stock." 



At this moment Mr. Walton came in. He had 

 grown older, and was somewhat stouter than when 

 he first became a farmer ; and his neighbors had 

 ceased to question his capacity, and had come to 

 honor and respect him. 



" We was talkin' about you, Mr. Walton," said 

 Sawyer. 



"Ah!" returned John, as he took a seat by the 

 fire. " I hope you found nothing bad to say of me." 



" Not a bit of it. We was talkin' about the won- 

 derful improvements you've made on the old place, 

 and of the money you make." 



" And do you think it wonderful ?" 



"But ain't it?" 



" Well," replied Walton, " I don't know about 

 that ; but I'll tell you what I do know. I know 

 there is no class of people in the world who may 

 study the arts and sciences to better advantage 

 than farmers ; and yet, I am sorry to say, there is 

 no class, as a class, occupying the same social posi- 

 tion who read and study less ; of course there are 

 many honorable exceptions. Farming is a science 

 — one of the most deep and intricate — and he must 

 be a man of more than ordinary capacity who can 

 master it all. But farmers must not be afraid of 

 books ; they won't, if they are wise, foUow every 

 advice which experimentalists give ; but they may 

 study, and reason, and experiment for themselves. 

 So I have done, and so I mean to do." 



"He's right!" remarked Ben Grummet, after 

 Walton had gone. " What fools we was that we 

 didn't go into that graftin' operation!" 



"And that underdrainin'," added Bancroft. 



"And that muck and compost arrangement," 

 suggested Sawyer. 



"Well," said Ben, with a serious face; "it isn't 

 too late now. They say, it's never too late to learn ; 

 and I'm sure it hadn't ought to be too late to com« 

 mence to improve after a body has learned,'* 



"True as a book!" added Bancroft. 



"Good evening!" 



"Good evening!" 



