108 
SOUTHERN CULTIVATOR. 
divided in the endeavor to conduct two different businesses 
while, in reality, I was not strong enough for either. The 
cos 7 .seqi 3 enc€ was no manure at all was saved and dis- 
jEibuted, my farming operations were always delayed to 
a late date in the season, while, of course, bad preparation 
of a heavy, vret soil produced bad stands; while careless 
and imperfect tillage, with negro discrimination in thin- 
king, invariably gave me shorter crops than any other per- 
son on similar land. 
I was thoroughly convinced that farming was a poor 
business, and I became so disgusted with my bad stands 
..hat I frequently would not go in the field for weeks, leav- 
'ing its management entirely to negro supervision ; while 
■a.\y mill vras a source of perpetual disquietude. About 
"this time (5 years ago), a copy of the Southern Cultivator 
tell accidently into my hands. I there read of the plea- 
sures of farming, and how, to succeed at all in it, that deep 
plowing and thorough preparation was indispensable. I 
■subscribed for the paper and received 9 numbers at once. 
Th«k perasal opened my eyes entii'ely to new things. 
''Gladness grew in me at the discovey — there seemed to be 
.i latent joy awakened within me — and I determined to 
oievote myself to the farm and its interests. 
A.b.o.ut this, time, a friendly freshet swept my old mill 
kSam away, and I then resolved that I would spend no 
more time in mending it, ' but that I would apply my 
whole time and attention to farming. I had to 
fnegin -tander very discouraging circumstances. I had made 
crop of any consequence, while my stock had been so 
'Smii'-zly neglected that I was left without one breeding 
and 0137 empty barn and larder, together with the 
dilapidated condition of the fences and buildings were a 
ft%htfur commentary on the industry and thrift of the 
owner. In fact, there never was an individual, unless he 
imiS the victim of disease or the devotee of Bacchus, 
widi good land around him and help to cultivate it, whose 
imUR'&es presented so shattered an appearance as your un- 
worthy servant. 
Hut I began to husband manures, to haul cotton to gin 
'ter ike seed,'&c., and through the winter I amassed more 
cau'atsre than Ithought could have been gathered on the 
place in 5 years. 
I was a constant and ardent reader of the Cultivator. 
T-ltrough its wholesome influences I was buoyed up in the 
berieftiaat farming would pay, and more than that, that 
ikere was a charm, a kind of cheerful halo thrown around 
home that was beyond comparison, and that could 
stcCfee obtained in any other pursuit of life. Here I began 
.imperceptibly to love home and studied how to adorn it. 
I Eicw felt a new pleasure in watching the operations of 
iMatare manifested in the vegetable economy, and I en- 
joyed those pure and lovely draughts of pleasure which 
koiae feut the farmer ever experiences. 
i commerxed operations in deep plowing, but I found 
■that I haff no plow on my premises that I could induce to 
aio 'aNKi'k 6 inches deep. I bought one of Ruggles’ Eagle 
.l?lows in New Orleans. Here I was assailed by a new 
■dlisaster. My old neighbors assured me it never would do 
—that the very shape of the cast iron points would not 
let it in the ground. That objection, however, was soon 
slfispelled, as the plow, with two good horses, turned up six 
.iach furrows most beautifully. 
1 was then told by old veteran farmers that such plow- 
fmg would ruin my land — that it might do in Northern 
but was not adapted to mine. I asked how they 
..itaew it would ruin it '? and I was assured that every per- 
- SoYicmmd said so. I inquired for proof. No experiment 
iS-f SilaS 'kind could be produced, so I went ahead, and was 
■vlcfflouneed and laughed at by the whole neighborhood. 
I knew .my land produced almost nothing anyhow, 
I «tas resolved to believe what your correspondents 
ssM. So I broke up deep and manured as well as I could. 
Previous to that year, there were spots in my .swamp lard 
that had become so inexpressibly barren that you could 
find an acre in a spot that would not have made a bushel 
of corn. Upon these exhausted spots I expended most of 
my labor, and carted manure upon them until they were 
liberally supplied. 
For the first time in my life I made a heavy crop of 
corn, heavier than I ever anticipated. And how often, 
while walking in that field, while the dark emerald maize 
waved its rustling banners round me, did I think of your 
journal that had taught me to love my occupation and 
had enabled me to make such a change in all around me ! 
My neighbors were stumped and attributed much of the 
improvement to the turning loose the waters of the mill 
pond which had previously exerted a very pernicious in- 
fluence on the land ; but they still declared that I had got 
all out of the land, and that I could never make a <>ood 
crop again. 
I have made three crops since, and have been each time 
well repaid not only for all the manure put on but also 
for the deep and thorough plowing that I have ever since 
given. In the year 1855, the dryest season here extant. I 
made more corn on 10 1-2 acres of land than I made in 
1852 off of 45 acres, and I would not have my creek bot- 
tom land broken up on the old skinning system if it was 
done for nothing. 
In my next, I hope to be able to tell you what draining 
has done, and what underdraining will, I hope, do for me 
this year. Allow me, then, in conclusion, to say that the 
pleasure, happiness and instruction that I have drawn 
from the Cultivator could not be estimated by me in dol- 
lars and cents. May its shadow never grow less, but may 
it go on conquerring error and prejudice till our own 
Sunny South may become as productive as her climate is 
beautiful. Yours, Aristander. 
Pike Comity, Miss., 1857. 
RAISING CARVE.S. 
Editors Southern Cultivator— Much depends upon 
the object we have in view as to the method which we adopt 
in raising our calves. It is very true and reasonable that 
the way nature points out for all animals is the most pro- 
per for them. « 
There. are many modes of raising' calves, and we sup- 
pose that every man thinks his plan the best. That the 
public may have some correct data from which to judge of 
this matter, it would be well to know the different meth- 
ods — old and new — of managing calves, and then some de- 
gree of certainty may be attained. 
There is a method in many parts of the States, of separat- 
ing the calves from the dams at a day old ; others let them 
remain with the cow until weaned— when the latter is the 
case, the calf sucks so frequently the cow’s udder cannot be 
filled or distended, and consequently she gives so little milk 
it is seldom the calf is more than barely kept from starving. 
If a calf sucks from a cow half that she gives, it benefits him 
more than .though the same be fed to him. If we take a 
cow that gives “a good mess,” as the term is, and let two 
calves suck her they will frequently get quite fat with this 
chance and seem to wean better, winter better and make 
thriftier cattle than those that never suck. A couple of 
calves striving to get more milk every time, would have 
a tendency to increase the quantity, or else nature has not 
provided for this emergency as she has for others. 
When the calfis first dropped, the first object is to get 
suck, as the first from the udder of the dam in this state 
is almost indispensable to the health of the animal ; next 
the cow is milked clean twice every day, after the calf 
takes his fill, till the dam does not give more than it will 
consume ; after four weeks the calf should be turned out to 
run with the cow, to suck when hek;hooses, until when 
