492 



THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 



[August 



ed by a ledge of granite, and the soil, over 

 the whole broad swell, was more or less wet 

 and cold. This was particularly the case 

 wdth John Walton's farm, some portions of 

 it being wholly unfit for cultivation. There 

 was one field of over 'twenty acres which 

 was never fit for ploughing. The soil was 

 so wet and heavy that it had never been 

 worked to any advantage; yet there was 

 some good land upon it, and Mr. Amsden 

 had gained fair crops while he lived there. 



Ben Grummet had a curiosity to see what 

 was going on in Walton's barn, so he drop- 

 ped in there. He found that the whole of 

 the floor, where the cattle stood, had been 

 torn up, and that they were digging a wide^ 

 deep trench, the whole length of the tie-up. 



" What is all this for V asked Ben. 



" Why,'^ returned Walton, who was busy 

 in superintending the work, and also in work- 

 ing himself, " I am having a place fixed 

 here for making manure. I mean to fill 

 this trench up with good muck, and thus 

 save the liquids which have heretofore been 

 lost. I think, by proper management, I 

 can get full double the quantity of manure 

 which others have got on this place*'^ 

 Do ye said G-rummet, sarcastically. 

 Yes,'^ resumed the young man. " It is 

 a fact that the liquid manures, could they 

 be saved, would fully equal the solids, both 

 in bulk and value; and when combined 

 with well-rotted muck, and some other arti- 

 cles which shall take up and retain all the 

 more volatile parts, I feel sure that they will 

 afi'ord more fertilizing powers and properties 

 than the solid manures can." 



" You don't say so ! Where d'ye larn all 

 that?" 



^' Partly from reading, and partly from 

 observation," answered John, smiling at his 

 good neighbor's open sarcasm. 



" I don't s'pose it costs anything to do all 

 this?" 



" Oh, yes, it will cost me considerable be- 

 fore I get through." 



Yes : I should think 'twould I" 



''I say!" he cried, as he met Sawyer 

 shortly afterwards — "John Walton's about 

 as nigh bein' crazy as a man can be !" 



"Eh!— crazy, Ben ?" 



" Oh, he's got his head full of all sorts of 

 nonsense. He's got his stable-floor all torn 

 away, and a trench dug there big enough to 

 hold more'n twenty cart-loads of dirt." 



" But what in nature's he goin' to do ?" 



" Why, he's goin' to save the liquids, as 



he calls 'em! Aud he's goin' to put in 

 somethin' to take up the — the — vol — volun- 

 tary parts." 



" Voluntary parts ! What's them, Ben?" 



"It was vol somethin'. But I don't know. 

 I wouldn't ask him. I s'pose he just used 

 the outlandish word so's to get me to ask 

 him what it meant— an' then he'd show off 

 his larnin'. But I want so green." 



"I wonder if he thinks he's a comin' here 

 to larn us old farmers how to work ?" said 

 Sawyer, rather indignantly. 



" He thinks so," returned Grummet. 



" Then he'll find out his mistake," added 

 the other. "You mark my words, Ben — 

 he'll be flat on his back afore two years is 

 out !" 



And these were not the only ones who 

 looked for the same thing. The idea of a 

 man's coming in there with any such new- 

 fangled notions was absurd. 



Autumn came, and after John Walton 

 had mowed over his twenty-acre field — some 

 of his coldest and stiffest land — getting 

 hardly hay enough to pay for the labor, he 

 set men at work digging deep trenches all 

 over it. He had two dug lengthwise, run- 

 ning up and down the slope ; and then he 

 dug quite a number running across these. 

 They were quite deep and broad, and into 

 them he tumbled nearly all the stones that 

 could be found in the fields. 



" A pooty expensive way of gettin' rid o' 

 rocks," remarked Grummet. 



" It's a better place for them than on the 

 surface, isn't it?" returned Walton, with a 

 smile. 



"Perhaps. But what on earth are ye 

 doin' it for ?" 



" Why, I'm going to see if under-drain- 

 ing won't improve the land." 



" Under-draining ! What's that ?" 



" It is simply drawing off the water from 

 the surface. This !and is cold and wet; 

 but if I can get the water to drain off 

 among these rocks, the sun may warm the 

 surface, and give me a good piece of soil 

 here." 



But *t looked very foolish to Ben Grum- 

 met. He believed that "what was the na- 

 tur of the soil couldn't be altered." 



" That's a cur'us contrivance," said Sam 

 Bancroft. He and Ben Grummet had been 

 at work for Walton at hauling muck. He 

 alluded to a large vat at the back of the 

 house, into which ran a spout from the sink. 

 This vat was capable of holding several 



