February, 1913 



T H E G A R I) E N MAGAZINE 



27 



to see her, and then her owner told me she was 

 going to leave the place, and would sell the cow for 

 fifty dollars. I did not hesitate a moment, but 

 paid the money and had the cow brought home the 

 same evening. My wife and daughter had not the 

 least difficulty in learning to milk her. Under 

 their treatment and my improved feeding, we kept 

 her in full flow for a long time. She gave quite as 

 much milk as two ordinary cows, while we had the 

 expense of keeping only one. This I consider genuine 

 good management; the best is always the cheapest. 



The Matter of Feed 



THE cow was never permitted to go out of the 

 barnyard. A trough of water enabled her to 

 drink as often as she needed, but her green food was 

 brought to her regularly three times daily, with 

 double allowance at night. I began by mowing all 

 the little grass-plots about the house and lanes, 

 for in these sheltered nooks the sod sends up a 

 heavy growth far in advance of field or meadow. 

 But this supply was soon exhausted, though it 

 lasted more than a week; besides, these usually 

 neglected nooks afforded several mowings during 

 the season, and the repeated cuttings produced the 

 additional advantage of maintaining the sod in 

 beautiful condition, as well as getting rid of number- 

 less weeds. When the grass had all been mowed 

 over, we resorted to the clover. This also was 

 mowed and taken to her; and by this treatment 

 my little clover-field held out astonishingly. Long 

 before I had gone over it once, the portion first 

 mowed was up high enough to 

 be mowed again. Indeed, we did 

 secure some hay in addition. In 

 this way both horse and cow 

 were soiled. \Mien the clover 

 gave out, the green corn which 

 I had sowed in rows was eighteen 

 inches to two feet high, and in 

 capital condition to cut and 

 feed. It then took the place of 

 clover. Both horse and cow 

 devoured it with high relish. 



The yield of green food which 

 this description of corn gives to 

 the acre, when thus sowed, is 

 enormous. Not having weighed 

 it, I cannot speak as to the 

 exact quantity, but should judge 

 it to be at least seven times that 

 of the best of clover. Even with- 

 out cutting up with a straw- 

 knife, the pigs ate it with equal 

 avidity. In addition to this, the 

 cow was fed morning and night 

 with a little bran. The uncon- 

 sumed com, after being dried 

 where it grew, was cut and 

 gathered for winter fodder, and 

 when cut fine and mixed with 

 turnips which had been passed 

 through a sheer, kept the cow in excellent con- 

 dition. She, of course, got many an armful of 

 cabbage-leaves during the autumn and all through 

 the winter, with now and then a sprinkling of sliced 

 pumpkins from which the seeds had first been taken, 

 as they are sure to diminish the flow of milk. 



Thus I was obliged to lay out no money for either 

 horse or cow, except the few dollars expended for 

 bran. By this treatment I secured all the manure 

 they made. By feeding the barnyard itself, as 

 well as the hog-pen, with green weeds and whatever 

 litter and trash could be gathered up, the end of 

 the season found me with a huge manure pile, all 

 nicely collected under a rough shed, out of reach of 

 drenching rain, hot sun, and wasting winds. I 

 certainly secured thrice as much in one season as 

 had ever been made on that place in three. In 

 addition to this, the family had had more milk 

 than they could use, fresh, rich, and buttery. 

 Even the pigs fell heir to an occasional bucket of 

 skim-milk. 



A Cloud of Weeds 



JUNE came without my being obliged to hire 

 anything but occasional help on the farm. But 

 when the month was fairly set in, I found every 

 inch of my plowed land in a fair way of being 



smothered by the weeds. I was amazed at the 

 countless numbers which sprang up, as well as at 

 the rapidity with which they grew. There was 

 almost every variety of these pests. It seemed as 

 if the whole township had concentrated its wealth 

 of weeds upon my premises. In the quick, warm 

 soil of New Jersey, they appear to have found a 

 most congenial home, as they abound on every 

 farm that I have seen. Knowing that the last 

 year's crop had gone to seed, I confess to looking 

 for something of the kind, but I was wholly 

 unprepared for the thick haze which everywhere 

 covered the ground. 



I can bear any quantity of snakes, but for weeds 

 I have a sort of religious aversion. I tried one 

 week to overcome them with the cultivator, but I 

 made discouraging headway. I then bought a 

 regular horse-weeder, which cut them down rapidly 

 and effectually. But meantime others were grow- 

 ing up in the rows, and corners, and by-places, 

 where nothing but the hoe could reach them, and 

 robbing the crops of their support. It would never 

 do to cultivate weeds — they must be got rid of 

 at any cost, or my crops would be worthless. 



I was forced to hire a young man to help me, 

 contracting to give him twelve dollars a month and 

 board him. We went to work courageously on the 

 weeds. I will admit that my man Dick was quite 

 as certain as my neighbors that we could never get 

 permanently ahead of them, and that thus lacking 

 faith he took hold of the cultivator and weeder, 

 while I attacked the enemy in the rows and by- 

 places. I kept him constantly at it, and worked 



Too many cows on "Little Farms" do not pay for their board. Does yours? 



steadily myself. A -week's labor left a most 

 encouraging mark upon the ground. The hot sun 

 wilted and dried up the weeds as we cut them off. 

 Two weeks enabled us to get over the whole lot, 

 making it look clean and nice. 



That night (Saturday) a powerful rain fell, with 

 a warm, sultry wind, being what farmers call 

 "growing weather." I found it to be even so, 

 good for weeds at least. Monday morning came 

 with a hot, clear sun, and, under the combined 

 stimulating power of sun, rain, and temperature, 

 I found that in two nights a new generation had 

 started into line, quite as numerous as that we had 

 just overcome. As I walked over the ground in 

 company with Dick, I was confounded at the sight. 

 But I noticed that he expressed no astonishment 

 whatever — ■ it was just what he knew was to come 

 — and so he declared it would be if we made the 

 ground as clean as a parlor every week! 



He said he never knew the weeds to be got out 

 of Jersey ground, and protested that it couldn't be 

 done. He admitted that they were nuisances, but 

 so were mosquitoes. But as neither, in his opinion, 

 did any great harm, he thought it not worth while 

 to spend much time or money in endeavoring to 

 get rid of them. 



But it set me to thinking. It seemed to me im- 



possible that these ten acres of mine could contain 

 an absolutely indefinite number of seeds of these 

 unwelcome plants. There must be some limitation 

 of the number, and if we could induce all the seeds 

 contained in the soil to vegetate, and then destroy 

 the plants before they matured a new crop, we 

 should ever afterward be excused from such con- 

 stant labor as we had gone through. I submitted 

 this proposition to Dick. It struck me as being 

 so simple that even Dick, with all his doggedness, 

 could neither fail to comprehend nor acknowledge 

 it. 



But having originated the dogma, I fully be- 

 lieved in it, and felt bound to maintain it; so Dick 

 and I went resolutely to work a second time, as 

 soon as the new crop was well out of the ground. 

 The labor was certainly not as great as on the first 

 crop, but it was hot work. I carried a file in my 

 pocket, and kept my hoe as sharp as I have always 

 kept my carving knife, and taught Dick to put 

 his horseweeder in prime order every evening when 

 we had quit work. 



About the third week in June we got through 

 the second cleaning, and then rested. From that 

 time to the end of the first week in July there had 

 been no rain, with a powerfully hot sun. During 

 this interval the weeds grew again, and entirely new 

 generations, some few of the first varieties, but the 

 remainder being new sorts. Thus there were wet- 

 weather weeds and dry-weather weeds; and as I 

 afterward found, there was a regular succession of 

 varieties from spring to winter, and even into 

 December — cold-weather weeds as well as hot- 

 weather weeds. 



My warfare against the en- 

 emy continued unabated. As 

 the time came for each new 

 variety to show itself, so we 

 took it in hand with hoe and 

 weeder. Dick and his horse 

 made such admirable progress, 

 that I cannot refrain from rec- 

 ommending this most efficient 

 tool to the notice of every culti- 

 vator. With one man and a 

 horse it will do the work of 

 six men, cutting off the weeds 

 just below the ground and 

 leaving them to wilt on the 

 surface.. 



Thus aided, our labors ex- 

 tended clear into November. 

 In the intervals between the 

 different growths of weeds, we 

 looked after the other crops. 

 But when the winter closed in 

 upon us, the whole ground was 

 so thoroughly cleaned of them 

 as to be the admiration of the 

 jeerers and croakers who, early 

 in the season, had pitied my 

 enthusiasm or ridiculed my an- 

 ticipations. I do not think a 

 single weed escaped our notice, and went to seed 

 that season. 



A Question of Fertilizers — Purslane 



I SAW this year a beautiful illustration of the 

 idea that there are specific manures for certain 

 plants. On a piece of ground which had been 

 sowed with turnips, on which guano had previously 

 been sprinkled during a gentle rain, there sprang 

 up the most marvelous growth of purslane that 

 ever met one's eyes. The whole ground was 

 covered with the rankest growth of this weed that 

 could be imagined. Even' turnip was smoth- 

 ered out. It was singular, too, that we had 

 noticed no purslane growing on that particular 

 spot previous to the application of this rapidly 

 acting fertilizer. 



After allowing the purslane to grow two weeks, 

 Dick cut it off with his horse-weeder, raked it up, 

 and carried it to the pigs, who consumed it with 

 a^-idity. We then recultivated the ground and 

 sowed again with turnips; but the yield was very 

 poor. Either the purslane had appropriated the 

 whole energy of the guano, or the sowing was 

 too late in the season. 



(To be continued) 



