330 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[September, 
Where there are plenty of bees and comb with a lack 
of stores, feed in October. 
Artificial Swarms*— The experiment of " W. A. 
M.," of making artificial swarms, by putting a comb of 
brood in a Langstrotli hive, with empty frames, and set- 
ting it on the stand of a populous stock that has been re- 
moved, is not new. Although most of the bees will prob- 
ably remain on the old stand and rear a queen, yet it is 
not the most profitable way of making swarms. 1st. All 
the bees will be old ones, that die off by hundreds every 
day. It will be sis or eight weeks before any young 
bees can replace the old ones in bringing in stores. 2d. 
They cannot get a hatched queen in less than ten days — 
it will often be fifteen. All new combs made during the 
process of rearing a queen, will be drone cells, which 
will be a great detriment to the hive in all the future. 
When there are such cells, drones are reared ; it is bet- 
ter to cut out and melt them into wax than allow such to 
remain. Whenever practicable, secure the old queen to 
the new swarm. If not, introduce a fertile queen at the 
earliest moment that they will accept her; or give a 
sealed queen-cell ready to hatch. As soon as she appears, 
worker cells are made. To find a queen in moveable 
combs, lift out and look over the frames carefully in the 
middle of the day, if possible, without disturbing the 
bees with smoke. When found she can be taken in the 
fingers without danger of being stung. Wirh the box 
hive, drive a quart of bees into a box, look for the queen, 
if not found, let the box stand — but few bees will fly — and 
drive as many more into another box, and continue until 
the queen is found. Put half the bees into the new hive 
on the old stand, the other halfback into the parent hive. 
The old hive will have the young bees in a day or two, 
and will accept of a fertile queen in two days after. A 
cell may be put in next day, and when it is hatched, in a 
day or two, it effectually prevents any after swarms, except 
where cells were started before operations were com- 
menced. If a queen must be reared from the start, let the 
old hive do it, as it has no combs to build. Do not let 
the bees set outside the hive idle for " three weeks " be- 
fore commencing operations, especially in time of honey. 
Peach Culture. 
BY LEWIS F. ALLEN, BLACK BOCK, N. Y. 
"Peach Culture, by James Alexander Fulton, Dover, 
Delaware. Illustrated. New York: Orange Judd & Co., 
245 Broadway." — Such is the unpretending title of a 
book which the reader must actually look into before he 
can venture a guess of its merits from any previous 
knowledge he may have had of its author. He assumes 
no titles, literary, or otherwise, and it is only in the mod- 
est dedication of his work to " Governor Gove Sauls- 
bury," of the State of Delaware, with whom, as a " friend 
and neighbor," he is well acquainted, that we get an 
inkltngof his whereabouts. But, no matter for the non-es- 
sentials. Mr. Fulton has written for the million a book 
on a most important branch of Fruit Culture, in a trea- 
tise by itself, filling a gap hitherto unoccupied. This 
labor he has done well, and every intelligent reader will 
accord to him the credit of being master of his subject. 
The book contains one hundred and ninety pages, 
large duodecimo, including a copious index, with clear 
print, good paper, neatly bound, and sufficiently illus- 
trated — in short, a tidy volume. A simple preface of two 
pages gives the subject matter of the work, so that the 
reader is at once informed of what it treats. The intro- 
duction gives us the Botanical Classification, and History 
of the Peach genus— Primus— in its varieties of fruit, 
whether borne on tree or shrub. We are also informed 
of the different localities in the United States where the 
peach grows and flourishes, — more particularly in the 
Middle and Southern Atlantic States, where he is best 
acquainted. Yet his observation extends through all the 
others, sufficiently, to tell the reader that certain lo- 
calities in any of the States lower than 43° north, will 
grow and ripen the Peach to perfection. 
Our author begins with the kernel to be planted, and 
carries it through the various stages of growth in the 
nursery, to the taking up, packing, transportation, and 
setting out of the tree in the orchard; its cultivation there, 
the ripening of its fruit, picking, packing, and sending 
it to market, when the labor of its production is ended ; 
—and all in a manner of particularity in details, so lucid 
in explanation, that his skill, knowledge, experience, 
and long familiarity with his subject cannot be doubt- 
ed. The diseases to which the peach-tree are sub- 
ject, the insects which prey upon its life, the remedies 
applied to one, and the methods of destruction to the 
other, are fully discussed. The soils best fitted for its 
development, with their various positions and relations, 
are also thoroughly and sensibly considered, and in a way 
which no cultivator need misunderstand. The style, 
too, is racy, the language plain and appropriate ; showing 
the author to be a scholar, with somewhat of a poetic 
fancy, yet altogether practical in his notions. No man 
who plants a peach-tree with the intention of enjoying its 
fruit, but can profit by the reading of this hook, and in 
order to succeed to the utmost, should not be without it. 
This may be called high, even superlative praise, but 
knowing whereof we write, we say it freely, and in good 
faith; and right glad we are that in the multiplicity of 
recent fruit books, by competent masters, we find this 
additional one of which we can speak thus commendingly. 
Having said this much of our author and his book, 
which has revived a thousand pleasant recollections of a 
life-long familiarity with this universally coveted fruit, — 
bating the egotism which may attend it,— as we like to 
indulge in an occasional talk on various other rural topics, 
we must indulge a word or two on this— call it gossip, if 
you choose. We were born in a peach orchard, — not out 
of doors, among the trees, exactly, — but their bonghs 
swept deliciously under the windows of the room where 
we first saw the light, and over the premises where we 
spent several years of early boyhood — how many years 
ago, it were bootless now to tell. The place was on a 
rocky declivity at the sunny base of a huge mountain, 
overlooking, but a few miles distant, one of the pleasant- 
est towns in the Connecticut Valley. Our grandsire, 
after an active service in the Revolutionary war, wishing 
to avail himself of a water-power for manufacturing pur- 
poses, and having a decided love for the cultivation of the 
various fruits, had reclaimed a considerable farm from its 
native wilderness; removing from his pleasant home in 
the village hard by, on an elevation of some hundreds 
of feet above it, he reared his trees of various kinds and 
planted extensive orchards. The peach would not grow 
in the lower valley at all, although plantations of it were 
often attempted ; and that was in the latitude of 43° 
north. I state this to show how capricious the peach is 
in its choice of locality, soil, and position. The ground 
was a light, warm loam in composition, and too rocky for 
general tillage ; but producing the sweetest grass, and the 
choicest grain, and vegetables, where an arable spot gave 
room for their growth and cultivation. But such peach- 
es, and apples, and pears, and plnms, and apricots, and 
cherries, — Sweet Water grapes, even, for so long ago 
as that, this pleasant flavored little foreign fruit was 
there cultivated — we have never since seen excelled I 
All these fruits grew, and ripened in abundance. They 
shot up among the rocks in wonderful vigor, and produc- 
ed their annual crops with scarcely ever a failure. 
Among the peaches were the Red and Yellow rare-ripes, 
the large Red-cheeked Melocoton, the Grosse Mignonne, 
with its score of synonyms, the Snow, and various others. 
The present fashionable kinds— sprung from these choice 
old standard varieties — were not then known, but none 
better than they then were, have since been invented 
or produced. 
No peach markets then existed as now. People from 
the neighboring villages came then in the ripening sea- 
son, and bought and carried away hundreds of bushels 
for their own use ; but there were no railroads in those 
days, (while now a railway runs just at the foot of the 
farm), scarcely a spring wagon, even, and no facilities for 
carrying tl^ese delicious fruits to a distant market. And 
there hung the peaches in their ripening luxuriance, 
plucked as they were wanted, or lying on the ground to be 
gathered as food for the pigs, or rotting there. Iu fact, the 
whole mountain slope, thereabouts, produced its luxuri- 
ant peaches and other fruits for many years, and possibly 
might do so, even to the present day, were the requisite 
pains taken in their cultivation. But its little value for 
general cultivation, and long ago passing out of the family 
of its original possessor, the farm has since mostly grown 
up to forest. 
Such declension of peach culture is but an example of 
hundreds, perhaps thousands of New England and New 
York localities, where fifty and more years ago the peach 
flourished in untold abundance. In scarcely any of those 
localities do they so flourish now. Many causes have 
been given for their decline, but on these we need not 
now treat. Peach culture has become a specialty. There 
are multitudes of localities scattered all over the country 
where peaches will still grow and flourish. In some the 
trees live and bear crops for only a few years— a dozen or 
so, at the utmost — in others they last forty or fifty, con- 
tinuing productive to the last. 
In the completion of his work, we wish the author had 
given a special chapter to amateur cultivation; that is, 
for the particular instruction of those having only a small 
hit of grouud, aside from garden purposes, where they 
might cultivate some choice varieties, and where, al- 
though the soil or position be not the best for their 
development, they might still be coaxed into bearing. 
Yet even the amateur can draw sufficient instruction 
from the book to answer his chief purposes, although 
written mainly for the orchardist. 
We consider the peach in its perfection, plucked in its 
full ripeness from the boughs of the tree— not hard, and 
transported hundreds of miles until it acquires an arti- 
ficial softness, not ripeness — the choicest, most palatable, 
and most healthful fruit grown in our temperate climate. 
It can be applied to a diversity of uses— aside from its 
eating when freshly ripened — in various processes of cook- 
ing — all contributing to our enjoyment and luxury. As 
an enthusiastic friend of ours once said of the tomato, 
" They are excellent, svperlative, aye, vehemently good ! " 
We heartily thank Mr. Fulton for his little work, got 
up with so much care, while congratulating the peach- 
growing public on the opportunity of possessing a book 
so valuable to their occupation. 
Horse Papers for Farmers.— No. 8. 
A Wisconsin farmer writes that my estimate 
of the cost of raising horses is wrong, and that 
in his county it does pa}' to raise common stock. 
Here is his statement : " Our custom is to raise 
colts from our common farm mares that we 
work on the farm and on the roiid — good, sound 
animals worth from $150 to $250 each. "We 
pay from $5 to $10 for service — usually $5. 
The colt follows its mother mostly from 3 to 4 
months; then, if we wish to sell, we get $35 to 
$50. I sold one last fall for $35 that had 
traveled 750 miles on the road. Our colls grow 
up on hay at about $5 per ton, and at 3 3 7 ears 
old cost about $50, and will sell for from $100 
to $125, and for 4 to 5 years old, about $150 to 
$200. There are no $50 stock horses kept here, 
and no raising poor horses that cost $200 and 
selling them for $150. Every farmer that raises 
horses here raises them for gain, and lie gets it. 
We have good horses that will weigh from 1,000 
lbs. to 1,600 lbs., and we raise them with about 
the same care that we do our cattle. We don't 
object to fancy horses for fancy men, but we 
want work horses, and we know that we can 
raise them cheaper than we can buy them. 
U A neighbor of mine has one of the so-called 
'lunk-head' horses, he works him the year round 
and gets some $200 for his stock at $5 each." 
It is an old saying that "circumstances alter 
cases," and it is impossible feo make any estimate 
of the cost of farming operations that will hold 
good over the whole land. Hay that costs $5 
per ton in Yfisconsin, costs $25 per ton in this 
vicinity; and, supposing the other items of the 
cost of raising a colt to vary in the same propor- 
tion, the colt that costs $50 in Wisconsin would 
cost $250, if raised in Westchester Co., N. T. 
Consequently, so long as good horses can be 
bought at the West and shipped East, so as to 
be sold for $200, common stock grown on 
poorer land here, though at a greater outlay of 
mone}', will not sell for w T hat it hn3 cost to 
raise. So far as our correspondent objects to 
my figures, this explanation is sufficient. I beg, 
however, to tell him, that in the matter of 
"lunk-heads" and "fancy horses," he is mis- 
taken. He knows a certain class of horses that 
are capable of doing a satisfactory amount of 
work, and of which the offspring may be cheap- 
ly raised in that region of low-priced hay. Of 
course, in the absence of anything better, these 
horses are very good, and it is quite natural and 
quite proper that he should stand up for them, 
zealously, as he does. What I especially desire 
that he should understand is that, good as they 
are, he can get something much better if he 
will. From what I have seen of Wisconsin 
horses in the army, I should say that the better 
mares were admirable for breeding, and if this 
man and some of his neighbors will club to- 
gether and buy a thorough-bred, English run- 
ning horse of good quality, and will breed only 
to him, they may, by using good care in the 
selection of dams, not only bring New York 
horse-jockeys to Wisconsin to buy fine road 
teams, but they will produce a race of animals 
which, for the every-day hard work of the farm, 
will be vastly superior to what they now 
