176 Scraping A^le Trees. 



with a small harrow made for the purpose, with five (of Ford's) teeth, 

 that will not catch the roots, drawn by two horses, the driver riding on 

 a seat so as to shun the fate of Absalom among the limbs, the horses 

 going at a quick pace. One day will do up four acres, going both 

 ways, leaving the soil, if dry, light and friable, and as porous as gran- 

 ulated sugar, five inches deep. 



A horse may be gi"oomed until doomsday, but if he does not have 

 good food, he makes a sorry figure, and is unable to work. So with 

 an apple tree ; it may be scraped and washed, but if it don't have food 

 and culture, it soon becomes a painted sepulchre, a receptacle for the 

 labor lost trying to coax Nature to violate her great immutable law of 

 compensation. 



Some theorists entertain the idea that the elements necessary to pi"o- 

 duce a good crop of apples are deficient in the soil of late years. Is 

 not the law of compensation violated? If we draw oft' the yearly crop, 

 can we replace all the elements in the soil by manure, unless that 

 manure is made of that kind of material } The inquiry has often been 

 suggested to my mind, while rambling through woods, where no cattle 

 roam, Why is it that those apple trees found among the woods are 

 such constant bearers.'* Is it because all the fruit, perishing, leaves all 

 its organic and inorganic elements to pass into the soil as food, to be 

 taken up by the tree to make its crop.? The fairest apples I grew last 

 year were on a tree under wh'ich a lot of cider apples rotted the 

 year previous. The original Fall Harvey tree sprang up and grew (in 

 this town) within six feet of a cider mill : it yielded yearly great 

 crops. After the mill was removed from the building, the tree com- 

 menced to fail, and is now gone. Had -the elements of the acids any- 

 thing to do for these trees, or were they accidental circumstances.? 



I have a lot of pomace from five or six thousand bushels of apples, 

 that I shall mulch a part of my orchard with next June, after my 

 second harrowing. As a manure for grass, or any hoed crops, it is 

 worthless. 



This matter may all be a crotchet, a whim of my brain ; but I 

 am going to give it a good trial, and perhaps may report the results 

 to you some future time. 



I know it is getting out of the old rut, but the old ruts are so 

 very deep there is no prospect of success in pulling in them. When 

 the hub rubs it is time to look at your vjays. I have fought the 

 battle, won the trees, and good ones too ; now I want the fruits of 

 the victory. 



