AND GARDENER'S JOURNAL. 



55 



illnge divide niul epread its roots m.d seeds, 

 \y filling up the soil lo such a degree, tbntor- 

 nd otherwise sufticiem cultivotion, produces 

 return of groin; nnd land seeded for meo- 

 ,ere it exists in the soil, produces one or two 

 nd inferior crops of hny, and is then run out. 

 most common mode of disscminatijig this 

 /**(by sowing clover seed chalT mixed with its 

 iving beei\ mowed from land where it exists; 

 is manner whole fields, previously exempt, 

 n at once filled up with Blue Grass, An 

 revcntive in this cose, will be to use the clo- 

 and sow the clean seed — nlihough an opinion 

 irevalent that the seed in the chafi" is more 

 vegetate and survive than if sown clean. 



e pernicious, but somewhat similar variety of 

 found on some farms in this section, called 

 rrass or wild rye, (Trlticum rcpctis.J They 

 nuch alike in their general character, modes 

 gation, and injurious eflbcte; and both re- 

 le most thorough and persevering care in culti- 

 o destroy them. The extreme severity of our 



I "frosts; and also the usually continued drouth 

 It of our long summers, aflbrd us facilities for 

 pose which are not possessed by the agricultu- 

 Great Britain. Numerous experiments con- 

 e opinion that the vegetative powers of this 

 re very much weakened by exposing the root 

 action of severe frosts. Ac^rdingly shallow 

 ing, (as the roots do not run deep,) applied the 

 , the fall the better, by exposing the tender 

 o the frost — the tillage to be continued by 

 ing or harrowing as soon as the land is fit in the 

 has been found very effectual. After this pro- 

 is advisable to plant the ground with corn, and 

 ite it thoroughly, or to summer fallow for 



f'si 



nc instance a very heavy coat of Blue Grass 

 Ig on wheat stubble, (the wheat crop was a to- 

 I lure,) was ploughed in the fall, and though 

 d in the spring, was wholly unfit for oats or corn. 

 I sowed with buckwheat at the usual time, 

 ., producing a heavy growth, completely des- 

 1 the Blue Grass. The next season however, 

 was much very minute Blue Grass in the 

 supposed to have sprung from the seed; which 

 !6ls the necessity that the cultivation, or the den- 

 f the succeeding foliage, should be such as to pre- 

 this result. Instancesof success are stated from 

 iloughingand rolling, performed just before plant- 

 nth corn. Of this the writer cannot speak from 

 38sful experience. The usual process of summer 

 w, by two or three ploughings, commencing in 

 or June, although it may produce pretty good 

 8 of wheat, has little efibct in permanently des- 

 ing this grass, or fitting the land containing it for 

 itable meadow. In managing a fallow much ad- 

 iage is lost, by failing to apjily the harrow, during 

 ing nnd harvest. The efi'ects which a harrow ap- 

 d, once over, every ten days, in dry, hot weather, 

 upon all noxious grass within its action, is truly 

 prising. In cases where small patches of the vari- 

 liere termed Quick Grass exists, much caution is 

 essary to prevent its spread by the plough and har- 

 t; nnd when the soil is properly loosened, a man 

 h a many pronged fork nnd basket, will find profit- 

 semplyment in gathering the roots and carrying 

 m off the land. 



rtessrs Editors — I consider this an important sub- 

 t, and have given it considerable attention for some 

 ITS past; and as I have not seen much in yi)ur paper 

 fleeting it, am led to hope that the foregoing aug- 

 Kiona may be uaefu'i to some of your readers. 



I nra coidially yours, &c. 

 0«Won««. JOHN McVEAN, 



Couch Grnss. 



The following is from a correspondent of the Yan- 

 kee Farmer. 



Sir— In the fall of 1839, it wns recommended in 

 your pnpcr to kill Cviuh Grass by ploughing the 

 ground late in the season, and expose the roots to the 

 action of the frosts, by which their vitality would be 

 destroyed. This advice was again repeated in your 

 editorial remnrks in the fall of 1840. But my expe- 

 rience shows me, that late ploughing will not kill 



Voucli, or Twitch Gross, as it Is sometimes colled. 



Soon after thot notice was published I turned over by 

 ploughing, just before winter set in, a piece of ground 

 which was very much infested by this grass. It wns 

 green sward in the spring of that ycor, and wns plough- 

 ed and planted with Indian corn; nnd at weeding 

 time, this grass so completely took possession of the 

 ground, that the rows of corn could hnrdly be seen, 

 and my neighbors inquired what kind of grain was 

 sown there. Intending this land for turnips the next 

 season, I turned this over by the plough, as before sta- 

 ted; and what vv'ns the result? Not a root of the 

 grass was killed, and it appeared in full vigor in 1840, 

 and the field looked ns green as if covered with a crop 

 of rye. What was then to be done ? This would be 

 a troublesome tenant with my turnips, and having the 

 advantage of prior possession, and firmer hold of the 

 soil, would contend strongly, and perhaps successfully 

 against the young turnip plants, and make the chanci. 

 for a small crop, orn good crop, to say the least, rath- 

 er doubtful ? I then determined to extirpate .'t, root 

 and branch, which was accomplished in the fol- 

 lowing manner: — The ground was ploughed and bar- 

 rowed, and then my men followed with their takes, 

 and raked out the roots of the grass into heaps which 

 were afterwards carted into the hog-yard; nnd this 

 was done three times before sowing my turnips; and 

 this so completely destroyed it, that scarcely a root ap- 

 peared in the subsequent cultivation. 



Ak old Colony Farmer. 

 Plymouth Co. Janiumj, 1840. 



For llie J\ew Gcncsce Farmer. 

 Education of Farmers' Children— >io. 3. 



Messrs. Editors — I have spoken of the useful 

 part of education, as it either directly ot indirectly in- 

 fluences the mind. I have taken a rather extended 

 education for the general standard, because we are so 

 linble to fall below than exceed the standard, whatev- 

 er it may be. I wish now to consider the real object 

 of education, the dcrcloping, exercising, training the 

 powers of the mind. It is not so much the mere 

 knowledge itself, valuable as that is in variotis respects 

 as it is the fitting of the mind for the business and du- 

 ties of life. Of arithmetic, only a few rules find ap- 

 plication in the business of the farmer and of most 

 men; but who would desire his son to study only these 

 rules while the others have a for greater educating 

 power upon the mind. Indeed, if we contemplate 

 only these subjects which will have a direct application 

 and be direcdy practicable upon the farm, they will be 

 found very few, and the influence of education ex- 

 ceedingly trifling, ns the time taken to obtain it must 

 be very short. Indeed, of what benefit will be much 

 acquaintance with the art of reading, if only utilitij 

 is to be studied in all our rending; if only there must 

 be a direct employment of the knowledge on the farm. 

 By auch an education the mind must be left almost 

 untouched. It will be rude and unpolished in its 

 thoughts, low and common in its language; it will be 

 left under the control of the animal nature chiefly; it 

 will have only coarse views nnd notions of mornlity 

 and religion, and of responsibilityand obligation, it 

 will be more subject to the power of temptation, and 

 more easily seduced into the ways and works of folly 

 and wickedness; or, it must be preserved from vice 

 and crime by the fear of punishment and the strong 

 arm of power, and not by those ennobling moral prin- 

 ciples which are suited to our nature nnd circumstan- 

 ces. 



The young farmer needs this cultivation of mind, 

 this training of the intellect which education gives to 

 prepare him for rending, and all the benefits of that 

 knowledge which now fill« the world. A uiet« for 



reading is as mnch made and acquired as a tnsto for 

 nny thing. The untutored mind can have no relish 

 (or it, unless it is for the marvellous; ;he curiosity 

 must be excited, or no motive will bo presented to iho 

 miiul little trained by culture. 



The young farmer needs thia cultivation too, that be 

 may have an inducement lo employ his mind daily, or 

 olten, upon books. The grent improvement of mind 

 .a made by rending regulnrly for a short period every 

 day. The instancesof this, though far too tare, nra 

 abundant to. show the great consequence. " Grc(U 

 effects from Utile causes," is the rule of Providence 

 nnd ought to be the motto for action. T/ic diligent 

 hand makelh rich, in whatsoever it undertakes. 



The young farmer needs this cultivation also, that 

 he may have some just estimate of himself and hnve 

 more influence in the world. There must be superior 

 wisdom in him thnt guides others. Trick and plan- 

 ning and wiles may succeed perhaps for a time; but all 

 such arts must fail in the end because the ignnrnnca 

 will be disclosed, or the supeiior wisdom of others will 

 be discerned. Even good common sense, that best of 

 all human endowments of the intellect, must have 

 knowledge and principles to exercise its power. Tact 

 cannot operate without some materials to act upon and 

 to work with. 



The j'oung farmer needs this cultivation also, that 

 he may have some adequate notions of the neces-ity 

 nnd advantage of education and moral principles in a 

 free community, and may labor for the wider and 

 more general extension of knowledge nnd virtue. 

 Standing as the very bone and sirew of society, he 

 must hnve the strength and power which will suoinin 

 the interests of society. For this end, educntioii in 

 its general meaning, the training of the mind and 

 heart, is the grand means. 



I hnve spoken of the wants of the young farmer in 

 these several respects, for their bearing upon the main 

 object of those papers, thnt the interests of the farmer 

 sufl'er from the too limited education of his sons 

 compared with that of his daughters. I hnve already 

 said thnt 1 would not diminish the one, but increase 

 the other. These views are not new indeed to many 

 intelligent farmers, but they need to be diffused over 

 the community. They cannot be fully appreciated 

 without ensuring correspondent action. 



I was about to enjoin some views upon the ornamen- 

 tal, as connected with the education of our children, 

 but must defer them to another time. D. C. 



March, 1841. 



Sugar Beets. 



Messrs. Editors — Agricultural chemistry may in- 

 deed cavd at the supposed value of Sugar Btcts as 

 food for animals; hut the results which nature gives, 

 clearly prove that there are some wonder working se- 

 crete in vegetable physiology, which science has not 

 yet discovered. 



A neighbor of mine, who is a first rate gardener, 

 told me that he had raised 60 bushels of Sugar Beets 

 last year on an incredible small space of ground in 

 his garden. I asked him which was the most profita- 

 ble, corn or sugar beets. He replied, both. I then 

 named potatoes, when he burst out into a horse laugh, 

 and said that he could raise ten bushels of beets easier 

 than one of potatoes, and that his cow gave more 

 milk when fed on beets. Added to this, he soid that 

 potatoes wanted digging, and that, too, by daylight, 

 in short nnd often wet days; but that any quantity of 

 sugar beets could be plucked and housed in a single 

 clear evening, and that the trouble of securing the 

 two crops was also ten to one in favor of beets. 



SENECA. 



SenteO'CO., March 14, 1841. 



