We tried tobacco tea for the louse (really an aphis covered with a grayish hairy substance), dry 

 powdered tobacco, slug shot, bordeaux, paris green, and land plaster mixed, but nothing seemed to 

 affect them. Won't some good chemist invent something to kill them? We are beginning to feel that 

 the soil should be poisoned, for nearly all these insects come from the ground. 



We had a most delightful call about the middle of July from a United States forester. He put 

 new heart into us by confirming our use of manure and wood ashes and siying we had the finest garden 

 soil he had ever seen. 



"Mr. Fullerton, if I should make soil with everything I could want to do it with, I could not equal 

 your natural composition here. Man could not make such drainage, or loam in such ideal proportions 

 of clay and sand as you have here. I had no idea Long Island was such a wonderful spot. As for its 

 trees I am simply carried away. Never in all my travels have I seen such clunaps of second growth 

 chestnut. If you had told me there were groups of 7 and 8 all a foat to foot and a half through, I would 

 not have believed you." 



"Our trees themselves are not only wonderful to me, but the last variety is astounding. Years 

 ago the sea captains brought ho.Tis trees ani shrubs fron foreign pjrts ani many of the.Ti are now 

 native to the Island. I know a forest of Japan maples, s. vamps whsre mignolia trifolia grow, white 

 foreign ei'ergreens seem especially happy here," replied Mr. "Alicklejohn." 



Upon further examination of cabbage and caulifliwer affe3teJ by blight, we found in 9 cases out of 

 10 root maggot had been at work. This pest is a difficult one to fight, but bisulphide of carbon injected 

 by the root will kill them, while sulphur or wood ashes in the drill will keap them out. I must confess 

 we felt better, I would much rather fight an insect than a disaise any day. 



Lettuce was ready to come out, it had been an interesting crop, full of failures. The majority of 

 transplanted plants went up to seed. In drills they headed beautifully, teaching us the lesson that they 

 must be thinned severely and kept cultivated while young, that without irrigation during dry weather 

 it is useless to try to grow it. 



"But, gee whiz, it's hard to thin it enough," said the book farmer. "I believe every seed sown came 

 up." 



"Excuse me, Mr. Fullerton," said Ted, "but at 'ome we bake 'alf the seed before we plant it." 



"Bake it, what for?" 



"So it can't come up, sir," he replied. "Then it isn't so thick." 



"Good scheme, Ted, we'll just about try it next year." And the more we have planted the more we 

 are convinced that such things as lettuce, endive, beets, turnips, and in fact any crop needing thinning 

 should have half the seed "baked." 



Of all the varieties of lettuce we tried, the "Golden Queen" suited us best. Brilliant in color, 

 golden of heart, solid, crisp, and mild flavored, while its tenderness exceeded any lettuce I have ever 

 eaten. As the Farmer says, "Big Boston isn't in it." 



On a small irregular shaped plot near the well, beans had come out as well as lettuce and the bean 

 vines had been burned sometime ago, anthracnose was too dangerous to have arounl. A smill amount 

 of manure was spread because being near the tower soma soil from th3 well had been spread upon it; 

 this soil came from too great a depth to be productive. Wood ashes followed the manure, and Mike 

 prepared the ground to receive summer radishes where the lettuce had been and summer lettuce where 

 the beans had been. 



John drilled them in, and when the lettuce appeared one variety looked more like turnips than 

 lettuce; further growth disclosed the fact it was turnip, a mixed seed from a reputable firm and out of 

 a sealed package. Thus does the farmar labor against great oids. 



With the exodus of Aunt Sophie and Uncle Roger, we were left with but 3 hands and crops coming in 

 faster and bugs growing thicker every day. 



On the ISth Dynamiter Kissam came again, for it had been decided to clear the remainder of the 

 dairy. We had proof enough of the utter futility of the ancient method. The dynamiter's appearance 

 necessitated Italian help for him. The sprouts had grown so vigorously during the summer, one would 

 not have dreamed the land had been burned over last fall. Then, too, manure for the dairy and farm 

 was coming, as at this time of year it could be purchased at 63 cents a ton. This, of course, had to be 

 unloaded. Mike succeeded in getting 2 Italians, who proved on their arrival not to be agriculturists but 

 Neapolitans. They marched up to our wash-stanl by the tower, helped themselves to a glass of water 

 and proceeded to Thanksgiving Cottage for dinner. 



Lime for fall use had arrived, and they were first set to unloading it and protecting it from rain 

 storms; then into the dairy to pile stumps for Dynamiter Kissam, who, working alone, had blown 100 

 the first day, having prepared the charges the day before. The Italians went to the "Port" Saturday for 

 food. Sunday they returned rigged out in most gorgeous style, saying as their cousin had died, they 

 were about to return to Italy. They, of course, struck for pay for Saturday afternoon (having left on 

 the noon train) but a good dose of Mexican Spanish, interpreted by Mike into Italian, soon made them 

 understand that would not work. 



"Mike, were you afraid they would draw on you? That big fellow probably had a couple of knives 

 in those high boots," said the Farmer. 



"0 no, Mr. Fuller,' I not afraid; I had 3 year Italian fencing school. They know me." 



The 19th was marked in many ways. First and foremost we picked the first tomato, a beautiful 

 large smooth Earliest Pink, and the first cauliflower; both, of course, went to the Fairy Godfather. 

 A quantity of rhubarb was planted, having been sent from some section of the road where improvements 

 had extended into a West End market-garden, and we pvckeJ our first "home hamper." 



For years the Railroad Farmer has been convinced that there is a ready mirket for produce shipped 

 direct to the consumer. A crate or hamper filled with vegetables in season was his idea. He has never 

 been able to persuade a farmer to try it. "Oh, it would be so much extra work," they would say. 



"Yes, but you get the extra pay," he would reply. 



"Well, I know, but I guess it wouldn't be worth while." Here at last was a chance to try the 



