314 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



Oct. 



For the New England Farmer, 

 THE SEASON— CROPS— FKDTTS. 



It may be well for me, Mr. Farmer, to begin to 

 pay my debts, a matter which every honest man 

 will attend to ; though, by too many, says the 

 printer, neglected. 



I have for a long time enjoyed the weekly read- 

 ing of your paper and been greatly profited there- 

 by, — myself contributing nothing. 



Perhaps I cannot do better than by giving your 

 readers a chapter of farming events as they occur 

 in this quiet valley of the Connecticut. 



First and foremost, the weather. Who ever 

 knew, heard or dreamed of such a spell of weath- 

 er ! Whether the Secretary of the Weather or 

 Secretary Stanton is in fault, it becomes not me 

 to decide. Sure I am, that either a screw is 

 loose, or the bottles of the heavens were un- 

 corked about the first of July, and the corks were 

 lost or mislaid. Only think, for five long weeks, 

 during the busiest season of the year, scarcely an 

 entire dry day ! and, in but two instances, two 

 hay days in succession. This is what we farmers 

 call "hitching weather." Barometers were in great 

 demand till they were found to be "dumb dogs," 

 giving either uncertain sounds, or no sounds at 

 all. The pages of the almanac Avere consulted 

 more frequently, there is reason to fear, than those 

 of the Bible, till, like the log sent among the frogs 

 by Jupiter, it was trampled upon and despised, 

 as giving no clue to the mystery except in these 

 mystic v.-ords, extending from the beginning to 

 the end of tlie month, — "A long spell of weather 

 may be expected about these days." 



Then the lunatics began to gaze at the face of 

 the moon, and prognoslici.te all sorts of things 

 about the state of the wciilher. Of her aspects 

 there were as many interpretations as there were 

 gazers. If, like a shrew, she turned up her pug 

 nose, 'twould do to mow. But if she wore her 

 face, decent-like, so as not to allow a pawder-horn 

 to be suspended from her chin, then look out for 

 rain. Whenever she changes, — and how unwo- 

 manly 'twould be in her not to change, then a 

 change of weather may be expected. But what 

 change ? there is the rub ; whether from wet to 

 dry, or from wet to wetter still, none could tell. 

 Hence we came to the conclusion that the man 

 in the moon, though sedate, thoughtful and wise, 

 has less to do with the weather than the weather- 

 cock on the farmer's barn. 



Suffice to say, farmers have sagely concluded 

 to do as they do in Spain — let it rain. At the 

 time of this writing, Aug. 10th, I think that not 

 Oiie-half of the grass has been cut in Hampshire 

 county. 



But we have no right to complain. At the 

 usual time of beginning to make hay, farmers 

 were croaking about short crops ; not more than 

 half a crop, some said ; others admitted two- 

 thirds ; but all were disposed to grumble. 



Well, the winds blew and the rain descended, 

 and haying operations were suspended, while 

 nature might make another efibrt to produce a 

 ,crop. For five long weeks have we been watch- 

 ing the signs of the weather, and waiting for a 

 crop. Grass enough we now have ; to make hay 

 of it, we know not ; for dog days, with their fickle 

 sulkiness, are upon us, and how to make hay with- 

 out sunshine baffles the wisdom of the shrewdest. 



Query. — Would it not be well for farmers to 



cultivate more of a contented and confiding spirit, 

 leaving croaking and fault-finding to ravens and 

 copperheads ? 



Sufiice then to say, the grass crop will be abun- 

 dant in quantity, but poor in quality ; spring 

 M'heat is a failure. I have not seen nor heard of 

 a ])iece that would more than return the seed. 

 'Tis of no use to sow spring wheat in this region. 

 Winter wheat and rye have come in well. Those 

 who have succeeded in dodging the showers, have 

 reason to be satisfied. 



The corn crop promises well ; though for wet 

 land there has been too much moisture, by half. 

 Potatoes, too, look well. The rot may be expect- 

 ed as the result of excessive warmth and mois- 

 ture. In the way of fruits, there is no lack. 

 The smaller fruits, such as currants and berries, 

 have been, and are very abundant. Peaches, 

 none ; cherries, not abundant. Many trees have 

 died ; others are dying ; the effect of the severi- 

 ties of 1860. Quinces have not recovered. Most 

 were killed outright. Consequently no fruit. 

 Plums seem to be doing better than usual. Where 

 there are trees, there will be fruit this season. 

 But how shall we raise plum trees ? An old hen, 

 with her brood, will protect an orchard from the 

 curculio. But all the inmates of the poultry yard 

 are insufficient to ward off Avarts from one small 

 tree. Of apples, there will be a good supply ; 

 not so "many as last year ; but enough, provided 

 they fall not prematurely, as they now seem prone 

 to do. The old foes to the apple are on hand as 

 usual, though perhaps a little more so. First, the 

 caterpillar made his selection and revelled among 

 the tender leaves during the first period of his 

 existence. Then the canker worm spins herself 

 up in the leaf she has already desiccated and ru- 

 ined, and lastly, the army worm closes up the 

 work of desolation. These last are real rebel 

 marauders, clad in mail ; they all go forth in bands, 

 wii'.i as much regiiarity as a Grecian phalanx. 

 Like Melcbisedec, they are, so far as we know,, 

 without father or mother. Whence they come or 

 whither they go, we know not. We only know 

 that they destroy everything where they march 

 leaving only filth behind. R. B. H. 



Amherst, August, 1863. 



Kentucky Blue Grass. — The editor of the 

 Boston Cultivator, who has recently visited Ken- 

 tucky, says that the famous Blue Grass of that 

 State is not the Blue Grass of the Colonists, but 

 is the "Spear Grass" or "June Grass" of New 

 England. A Mr. Bedford, an old farmer of the 

 Blue- Grass region, gives the following account of 

 the origin of the name and of the grass itself. 



It was first discovered growing on a ridge near 

 the Upper Blue Lick, in Bath County, — which lies 

 contiguous to, and east of Bourbon County, where 

 Mr. Clay's farm is — it having originated in that 

 section of country, more than 50 years ago. Mr. 

 B. said that "farmers liked the grass so well that 

 they used to go there to get the seed to sow on 

 their pasture lands." Hence, coming as it did from 

 the "Blue Lick," it was called "Blue Grass," a 

 name, as applied to that species of grass, purely 

 local at first, and is so still to a considerable ex- 

 tent. 



