AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
163 
propriety of the resolutions of the Societ)^. I 
wish in no way to oppose Mr. Miner’s faith, hut 
simply to assure him that the action of the 
Judges, and the movements of the National 
Poultry Society, have not been at all under¬ 
handed. The exhibition was a grand one, and 
if matters are managed as well at the future 
fairs of the Society as they were at its first one, 
I fully believe that the Society will be cordially 
supported by all of the reasonable poultry men 
of the Union. 
Not a Judge at the Recent Fair. 
LENDING FLAX SEED; FLAX MILLS IN N. Y.; 
SENECA COUNTY FARMING, &c. 
We are always glad to hear from “N’ Im¬ 
port n.” The following letter alludes to several 
matters, and will be found interesting: 
For the American Agriculturist. 
In your last week’s paper you speak of the 
loaning of flax seed at Dayton, 0., as something 
novel; you also advert to a flax-dressing ma¬ 
chine as though none were in operation in this 
State. The oil mill proprietors in this village, 
Waterloo, have lent out this spring about 1000 
bushels clean flax seed to farmers who contract 
to sell them their crops of seed when harvested, 
and also to sell the mowed flax after the seed is 
threshed from it, at six dollars the ton, delivered 
at the flax machine here. This machine can 
break and clean four tons of the rough flax 
daily. There is another flax dresser at Penn 
Yann, another at Fort Plain, and others in that 
region and farther east. 
Our farmers begin to find flax growing very 
profitable, since they find a market for the holm 
which was formerly thrown away. Much has 
been said about the flax crop exhausting the 
soil. True, its foliage will not collect ammonia 
from the atmosphere like that of peas, beans, 
and red clover. Yet with the same nitrogenous 
manures usually applied to Indian corn, a better 
crop of wheat may be got after flax than after 
corn, and with less work. 
A great change is taking place in the rural 
economy of our once great wheat-bearing 
county. Thirty years ago wheat was the only 
crop grown for market; few farmers made more 
corn than to fat their own pork, and stock 
growing did not pay ; but as the French say, all 
that is changed now. From being a large ex¬ 
porter of wheat and flour, little Seneca does not 
now grow wheat enough (mainly owing to the 
% or tritici) to supply the home demand, and 
our millers have to go to Buffalo to buy wheat. 
Indian corn, that king of our cereals, is a never- 
failing crop under good culture ; hence it gen¬ 
erally receives all the stable manure of the farm, 
and well does it repay the outlay ; it is now our 
great cereal crop, although oats and barley and 
Mediterranean wheat are grown to a considera¬ 
ble extent and profit. Pork, beef, cattle, and 
sheep—a drug before the advent of railroads—are 
now very dear. Instead of having to sell beef 
and pork at a low price for packing, it now goes 
off alive, or fresh slaughtered, by railway, selling 
within the freight of New-York and Boston 
prices ; the same of poultry, butter, eggs, &c. 
Tile draining is beginning to work wonders 
for those farmers who are making the experi¬ 
ment ; but it is only from their successful ex¬ 
ample that we can hope for a more general im¬ 
provement, either in the making and saving of 
azotized manures, or in tile draining, as the 
farmer is famed above all others for that profes¬ 
sional egotism, whwh scouts all theory until 
proved by the most perfect results. If the soil 
of Western New-York was drift and detritus in¬ 
stead of alluvial deposits, better farming would 
be required, or the soil would have to be aban¬ 
doned. If our farmers would expend a tithe of 
the money and labor in tile draining that Mr. 
Holbrook, of Croton, and many others, have 
expended in constructing a soil on their barren 
precipitous hills, they would either grow rich 
on the increase, or the present enormous high 
prices of farm products would be lowered. But 
slack farming is at least productive of one good, 
it holds back the farmer’s family from falling 
into those habits of fashionable expenditure, so 
much on the increase in this fast age. 
One of your city papers gives us a ludicrous 
description of the dilemma a New-York citizen 
gets into when he turns farmer. The man who 
would escape from high rent, forestalled market, 
and corporation taxes, to live in the country, 
should be satisfied with a farm of garden size, 
which he may work himself in default of cheaper 
help. But he had better first ascertain whether 
he has a real passion for the vegetable creation, 
or only a conceit. If his enthusiasm is only on 
the surface, it will go oft' with the first prespira- 
tion in planting the first tree, or trenching in 
the first manure; when he will be worse oft'than 
the retired tallow chandler, who left his subur¬ 
ban retreat with its flagrant flora, to enjoy once 
more the effluvia of a big melt of decomposing 
greese and tallow. N’ Importe. 
Waterloo , JV. May 13, 1854. 
MILKING COWS. 
To insure the greatest yield of milk from a 
cow, she should not only be well fed and well 
tended, but also well milked. Now it is not 
every man or every maid, who can squeeze fluid 
from a cow’s udder, that is a good milker. 
It is important, in the first place, that a cow’s 
bag should be clean. For this purpose, when 
the animal is stabled—as they are, or should be 
during the winter, on all farms, and throughout 
the year, by many—let the whole udder be 
washed with cold water, and immediately 
thoroughly dried with a towel. The advantages 
of this practice to the health of the animal, and 
the healthiness of the milk, are great and man¬ 
ifest ; and in this way, too, we escape the black 
sediment of which milk-buyers so constantly 
complain, and which is nothing else than small 
panicles of manure, brushed from the bag and 
belly of the cow into the milk pail. The hands 
of the milkmen by this process become washed 
clean, of necessity; an operation too generally 
omitted by those who consider themselves neat 
and careful. The same process obviates, too, 
the supposed necessity of moistening the teats 
by milking a fine stream into the hands and 
washing the teats therewith,—a filty practice, 
followed by almost all men, and too many wo¬ 
men. 
The udder being now cooled and cleansed, we 
are ready to begin milking. If the cow be well 
trained, she will now extend backward her hind 
leg for your convenience, without a word ac¬ 
companied with the word of command “ hoist." 
They understand what is required of them, and 
need only at times, a gentle reminder. But it 
is a singular fact, that men who are kind in 
every other relation of life, as husband, father, 
neighbor and master—are rough in their treat¬ 
ment of gentle “ bossy.” If they say “ hoist,” 
it is in sentorian tones; and too generally, the 
first intimation of their wishes is conveyed in a 
striking manner, by the edge of a heavy milk¬ 
ing stool. Now a considerable experience 
among the “ milking mothers of the herd,” has 
convinced us that harshness of tone, or petty 
cruelty, is not only not productive of good re 
suits, but is extremely disadvantageous. Many 
cows, that hold up their milk to a cross milker, 
will give down freely to one more gentle. And 
the sack of grain, or other weight across the 
loins, which is well used to compel the animal 
to give down, would have been uncalled for if a 
kind hand had always drawn her milk, or could 
be dispensed with, if gentleness takes hold of 
the teats. 
Now the cow may kick. Well, we have in 
previous numbers of this journal shown that to 
return kick for kick is a poor method of con¬ 
verting Mooley from the error of her ways, but 
she may be completely cured by kindness. 
When fairly seated, it is of the utmost conse¬ 
quence that the milking should be done without 
violence, and as rapidly as possible. Many per¬ 
sons who pride themselves on their fast milking, 
jerk the teats violently, and others will cause 
them to become sore by the pressure of their 
finger nails. The best milkers scarcely move 
their elbows, but with the upper portion of the 
hand grasping and compressing the teat, force 
'he jet of milk by the pressure of the lower 
fingers. 
VV tiether a cow should be milked before, after, 
or during feeding is a question of minor impor¬ 
tance, and must be decided by circumstances. 
R. L. Allen, in his excellent work on “domes¬ 
tic animals,” recommends, if we rightly remem¬ 
ber, that they be milked while feeding, for the 
reason, that while thus engaged they will more 
readily let down their milk; but many cows, at 
other times quiet, will be a little uneasy while 
eating, and anxious to get not only all that be¬ 
longs to them, but a share of their neighbor’s 
meal also. For this reason we always milked 
before feeding that the feed might appear as 
a reward of merit. Where one has but one 
or two cows, it is of course a matter of little 
moment. 
In fine, we recommend to those who want 
much milk and good milk, kindness and clean¬ 
liness.—Journal of Agriculture. 
•——-. 
LARGE vs. SMALL EGGS. 
Probably the largest hen’s egg ever recorded 
is that recently laid by a hen of C. R. White’s, 
the landlord of the Warriner House, Springfield. 
It is a foot in circumference the long way, nine 
inches the other, and weighs 11-J ounces! It is 
well shaped, with a very thick and hard shell. 
It is almost impossible to believe that it is the 
product of a hen ; but we have been convinced 
of it. The egg probably contains four yolks— 
it is certainly four times the size of an ordinary 
hen’s egg. The hen that laid it is believed to 
be of the ordinary breed, but is very large, 
weighing about eight pounds alive. She has 
been in a feeble state of health since the pro¬ 
duction of this monstrosity in the egg line.— 
Conn. Valley Farmer. 
Did not some wag put a goose egg in biddy’s 
nest? As a contrast to the above story, we 
have a Bantam hen's egg, measuring 3| inches 
round longitudinally, and 2f inches transversly. 
Its weight is 5 pennyweights and 6 grains. The 
hen has laid several eggs of about the same size 
this spring. We challenge the world to beat 
this; and also to show a smaller full grown hen, 
where nothing has been done to stunt its growth. 
POULTRY CHEAPER THAN PORK. 
The following, which we find in the Texas 
Telegraph , may apply to a certain extent in 
that State, but in the great valley of the West, 
where corn is not worth over 20 to 40 cents 
per bushel on an average, we fancy pork can be 
produced much cheaper than poultry ; besides, 
one can never take the place of the other, though 
poultry is unquestionably much the healthier 
meat. 
Build a good, comfortable hen-coop, such as 
you would keep your hogs in. Keep fowls, 
feed them ; and make a careful estimate of your 
fowls and hogs, together with the products of 
each ; you will find that fowls are more profita¬ 
ble stock than hogs. Pork cannot be made at 
less than five cents a pound with any breed of 
hogs. Each hen, if well cared for, will yield a 
clear profit of one dollar a year. To care for 
them and produce this result, it is necessary to 
give them a good place to roost, a variety of 
grain, with a little animal food, with clean wa¬ 
ter, and lime in some shape for eggshells. The 
fowl manure annually wasted in the United 
States is worth at least $1,000,000. To save it, 
place a layer of loam and plaster occasionally 
over a layer of the manure. Every spring mix 
all together, and use it at the rate of a pint to 
