1867. 



NEW ENGLAND FARRIER. 



511 



cbusetts, I believe that Maine has the best 

 people in the world. 



I was pleased with an editorial in last week's 

 Farmer, upon the "Misrepresentation of 

 Farm Life." It strikes me that all who cari- 

 cature farm life, or in fact, any life foreign to 

 their own, belong to that class who never look 

 into the soul of tilings, nor understand the 

 economy and motives of the people who per- 

 form the work of life, of which every one 

 should bear a part. The "intellectual powers," 

 that a visit of a few weeks upon a farm gave 

 "boldness enough" 1o thank God for, could 

 not have been even thoughtful intelligence, if 

 it "raised them in their own esteem, into an- 

 other race of beings." God never accepts 

 such Pharisaical thanks, and I cannot imag- 

 ine where the writer found her "animated 

 clods." Certainly not among those who make 

 life so practical as she represents it to have 

 been among the "community blessed with miles 

 of the richest lands in all the Northern States." 

 Among the agricultural items of the same 

 issue, we read "He is the most reasonable 

 worker who judiciou.-ly divides the responsi- 

 bilities and duties of life between brain and 

 muscle." 1 have found many such "reason- 

 able workers" in the several communities 

 where 1 have visited, in the rural districts of 

 this State, and although I have found igno- 

 rant persons here, as elsewhere, vet search as 

 thoroughly as I may, I am doubtful if I could 

 find an "animated clod" throughout New 

 England. I have seen "clods" of a slimy na- 

 ture and of "animated" baseness, within the 

 "halo of brick walls and narrow yards," indi- 

 viduals who walk with their conscience under 

 their feet, and keep their souls where goodness 

 can never reach them ; but never where the 

 earth smiles with innocence and plenty, and 

 nature speaketh with a clear and happy voice. 

 What a libel upon (iod's noblest work ! I 

 think "good clothes" worn every day have 

 much to do with some people's estimation of 

 character; — and farmers seldom dress well, 

 you know ! 



Ho[is are housed and ready for marketing, 

 and the general query among hop growers is, 

 "What's hops worth?" Then comes the con- 

 versation about this rumor and that surmise, 

 which may directly or indirectly affect the price 

 of this commodity. 



I have noticed several articles lately in the 

 Farmer, regarding the disposal of the ' 'plaguy" 

 stones. I have just ascertained one way in 

 which they have been used to a good purpose. 

 My ho^t is quite a hop grower, every year in- 

 creasing his fields and his profits. Last sum- 

 mer, in setting out a new field, he placed a 

 number of hills so near the wall that the horse 

 in ploughing could not go round them. Being 

 thus left to themselves, they flourished and 

 covered the stones with splendid clean blos- 

 soms, free from lice and rust, although vines 

 on poles within six feet were greatly damaged 

 by these pests. These outside hills had been 



transplanted, but accidentally a few sets were 

 left in the ground, which this year received but 

 little care, no one supposing them of any ac- 

 count until the superior product of the stone- 

 heap was discovered. These vines bore the 

 finest, largest, cleanest blossoms my friend had 

 ever seen. Next year will see his stone fences 

 green with vines, enjoying the largest liberty. 

 He intends to plant a thousand hills and make 

 his walls and stone heaps pav for piling them 

 up. Oxford promises to be the hop-producing 

 county of the State. The farmers are all 

 going into the culture, having had thus ftir ex- 

 cellent success. One man in Rumfoid has 

 fourteen acres under cultivation, and is plant- 

 ing more. I did not know before that, the 

 dust or pollen of the flowers was very useful 

 as a i-emedy for nervous complaints. I have 

 used it several times lately, and am charmed 

 with its power. 



Potatoes are looking very pitiful ; the rust 

 is ruining many a farmer's hopes, and depriving 

 them of the reward of their toil. Many fields 

 make the highways anything but pleasantly 

 odorous. The white muck worm is commit- 

 ting great depredations upon many corn-fields ; 

 making fodder where the sower expecti'd meal. 

 The roots are entirely eaten off. Some of the 

 farmers are now cutting their second crop of 

 hay. Apples are not inclined to embonpoint 

 this year, either in quantity or quality. Pears 

 likewise. The climate is too cold to raise 

 successfully any kind of pears, but pairs mat- 

 rimonial. TlIEO. WiLLISTON. 



Norimy, Me., Sept. 13, 1867. 



For the New England Farmer. 



■WHEAT GKOMTING.— ONION WORM 

 AND SWALLOWS. 



I take up my pen to inform you and my 

 brother farmers in general that I have been 

 successful in making my seventeenth successive 

 crop of wheat. Now I do not make this in 

 any spirit of boasting, but as an encourage- 

 ment to my brother farmers to endeavor to 

 grow this valuable cereal. 



A writer in the New York Tribune, who 

 travelled through the wheat region of the West 

 last season came to the conclusion that the 

 farmers of New England mut grow a part of 

 their wheat or pay about fifteen dollars per 

 barrel for flour. Now what think you, brother 

 farmers, of paying fifteen dollars' a barrel for 

 dour, the remaining part of your lives, and 

 of the annual tax thus transmitted to your 

 children, amounting to a sum in successive 

 years, compared with which our portion of 

 the national debt would sink into an in- 

 significant item? There is a large breadth 

 of land in New England that, by judicious 

 management, is capable of producing paying 

 crops of this grain, and leaving a handsome 

 profit to the producer. After careful observa- 

 tion for a long series of years, I have come to 

 the conclusion that the longer a farmer neglects 



