374 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
have seen beautiful crops of fruit of the orange 
variety, The thorn, as we all know, is a small, 
compact grained wood, about the size of the 
quince at full maturity. It is wonderfully hardy, 
growing pertinaciously against the roughest treat¬ 
ment, and oftentimes an obstinate pest in pasture 
grounds. Yet, it takes kindly to the quince, and 
we have rarely seen finer crops of the quince than 
have grown on these scattered, and much neg¬ 
lected thorns. 
In trying this plan we would take wild and 
thrifty young trees from the outskirts of woods, 
or pastures, in the Fall or early Spring, with as 
large balls of earth aiound them as we could ob¬ 
tain and plant them properly in rich, mellow 
earth, pruning them down in due proportion with 
their roots, and having given them a growth of 
or.e or two years as their thrift should govern, 
insert the quince grafts, which, growing, we would 
take off all the thorn wood and give the whole 
growth thereafter to the quince. The root of the 
thorn is widely different from that of the quince, 
being spreading, and stretching far out in the soil, 
while that of the quince is close, and fibrous. 
Otherwise, in wood and top, they grow much 
alike. Few insects injure either the root, or 
wood of the thorn, and so far as our observation 
occurs, no extreme of either cold or heat has 
affected it. 
Our readers will receive the above opinion, 
based upon one successful experiment only, as 
suggestive, and not in any way as recommending 
it for extensive trial, or the outlay of any consider¬ 
able capital, or labor in its execution, until suc¬ 
cessfully proved. We know the quince to be a 
valuable household and market fruit; and where- 
ever it succeeds is exceedingly profitable to the 
orchardist, and, consequently, worthy of some 
pains in its cultivation. 
Cider Making—Treatment of the Pomace. 
The cider season — what there is of it for this 
year — will soon be round, and we have a word 
to say about its manufacture. We are not par¬ 
ticular as to what kind of cider mill our friends 
may prefer to use, whether it be the old fashioned 
cog, or grooved wooden mill; the grater, of dif¬ 
ferent varieties ; or the Hickok, and other recent 
patents. Any mill which will thoroughly mash 
the apples into a fine, pulpy pomace, is good ; but 
to make good cider, having the full, well matured 
juice of the fruit in it, giving it body, and keeping 
quality, it is indispensable to have a vat sufficient¬ 
ly large to hold the pulp as it comes from the mill, 
and keep it for at least forty-eight hours. 
Pomace fresh from the mill is green in color, 
and crude, weak, and watery in consistence. To 
give it the proper quality for good cider, after 
grinding let it lie in the open vat in the pure open 
air turning it over with a wooden shovel thor¬ 
oughly twice a day for two days, any way, and 
three, or four, if cool weather, that every part of 
it may be well exposed to the atmosphere, and 
imbibe its oxygen, which sweetens, ripens, and 
colors it. Then lay it up, leisurely, and before 
the screw is applied to the cheese, let it run all 
that it will. Apply the screw, gently at first, so 
that only a small stream will run, increasing the 
pressure as the running diminishes. By this 
process you obtain a heavy must, rich in its sac¬ 
charine, and vinous qualities, and when properly 
strained off a perfect article for boiling down with 
sauces, for the table, and for vinegar. One gal¬ 
lon is worth two of the crude apple-juice—not 
cider—'run rapidly through the mill, and then 
pressed out in a hurry an hour afterwards. We 
gave full directions for keeping cider, for 
selecting apples, &c., in our January number, 
on page 22 of the present volume, and refer to 
that for further instruction. 
--- 
How to Make Good Cider. 
To the Editor of the American Agriculturist : 
There is hardly a tithe of cider mad-e now as 
compared with forty years ago. Many of the old 
orchards have died out, and the. temperance re¬ 
form has prevented their renewal. The market 
for fine fruits has greatly expanded, and nearly all 
the trees now planted are for the production of 
market apples. It took eight bushels of apples 
to make a barrel of cider, and the barrel sold for 
only a dollar. Apples now bring every year from 
fifty cents to a dollar a bushel. Fruit growers 
can hardly be expected to lament the change that 
is so much for their pecuniary interest. 
Yet cider is still made all over the country in 
small quantities, some for the apple butter, some 
for vinegar, and still more for a beverage. When 
bottled and properly handled, it is as palatable, 
and much more wholesome, than most of the 
wines of commerce. In affections of the kidneys 
it is an excellent remedy, and should have a place 
in every well appointed cellar. It is a matter of 
some importance, that what cider is made, should 
be made in the best manner. 
The apples should be well ripened, but not in 
the least decayed. Every apple with the least 
speck of rot in it should be removed, if you wish 
a first rate beverage. The decayed and inferior 
apples may be reserved for making vinegar. Per¬ 
fect cleanliness should be observed in the grind¬ 
ing process which should be performed two days 
before pressing, and the pomace be permitted to 
stand and mellow in the vat, until it assumes a 
deep red color. Clean dry straw should be used 
in forming the cheese. If the straw be musty, 
the flavor will be communicated to the juice. If 
water be added, it will make it hard and unpleas¬ 
ant to the taste. The casks, also, in which it is 
put for fermentation, should be thoroughly 
cleansed, and finished off with a fumigation of 
brimstone. This is done by burning inside the 
bairel a few strips of canvas, dipped in melted 
brimstone. The fumes will penetrate all the 
pores and destroy the must and correct the sour¬ 
ness. After the fermentation is over, draw off 
into clean barrels, and clarify it. This can be 
done by mixing a quart of clean white sand with 
the whites of half a dozen eggs, and a pint of 
mustard seed, and pouring it into the barrel. It 
may stand in the barrel, or, if a nice article is 
wanted, it should be put into quart bottles and 
corked. 
This cider will be fit to drink in case of sick¬ 
ness, and will always bear a good price in market. 
It retails at twenty-five cents a bottle, and would 
bring at least two dollars a dozen, by the quantity. 
This is much better business than to make a poor 
article from decayed apples, in a slovenly manner, 
and sell it for two dollars a barrel. 
New England. 
------- 
By forgetting injuries, we show ourselves su¬ 
perior to them ; he who broods over them is their 
slave. 
Inherited riches can not purchase ornaments for 
the mind ; these must be acquired by each pos¬ 
sessor. 
Beauty without honesty is like poison in a box 
1 of gold. 
Birds. 
MR. AND MRS. ROBIN RED-BREAST. 
Much as we love the birds, and unwilling as 
we are to shoot down the songsters which sur¬ 
round our homes, we must yet bear testimony 
to the real character of some of them, from 
whom we had hoped better things. First and 
chiefly, let the robin step forward and receive 
sentence. Dear red-breast, of whom we heard 
in our childhood, so tenderly covering with leaves 
the babes in the wood, and who, we have long 
been told, lives chiefly on insects, stopping only 
now and then to take a cherry for dessert—dear 
old bird we have a charge to bring against you. 
As to your living upon insects it is not true. You 
have nested in our orchard the past Summer, and 
though the trees have been infested with worms, 
crawling even around your nest, you have left them 
unmolested, and robbed our cherry-trees. The 
worms you have been seen to eat, were the com¬ 
mon angle-worms, which you might as well have 
let alone, for they pulverize the soil, and do little 
or no injury to plants. But our cherries, how 
you did steal them as fast as they ripened ! You 
cared little for the rarity and expensiveness of 
our fruit, but you swept the board clean, daily, 
leaving none for manners’ sake. Had you been 
a bird of proper sensibility, you would have no¬ 
ticed our old hats, old coats and pants, those 
flaring pieces of tin, and other striking things 
hung up in the trees to warn off intruders, but 
you stupidly paid no attention to them. 
And having stript our cherry-trees, you came 
to our strawberry patch, just ripening its tempt 
ing clusters, as we supposed, for our own table 
And you brought along the younger members o 
your family—a hungry multitude. We soon fount 
that you were good judges of the quality of fruit. 
Why don’t the pomological societies call in a 
tasting committee of robins to decide about fla¬ 
vors l Surely, you know what good fruit is. 
Burr’s New Pine and the Hooker Seedling, it is 
your unanimous opinion, stand first in delicious¬ 
ness. They are good without cream and sugar. 
Albany Seedling, Early Scarlet, Hovey and such, 
are well enough “ for market purposes but for 
something to please the palate, like nectar and 
ambrosia, you know where to find better. 
You not only stole our berries yourself, but your 
example brought flocks of yellow-birds. What 
adroitness you all showed in accomplishing your 
purpose. Alighting some distance from the patch, 
as if engaged in lawful business, you soon ap¬ 
proached it on all sides, running stealthily under 
the bushes and leaves, until at length you were in 
the midst of plenty. 
As soon as the strawberries were gone, you 
were ready for our Antwerp and Orange Rasp¬ 
berries. Yes, you, so-called, “ insect-devouring 
birds,” left our cucumbers, melons and squashes 
close at hand, to be ravaged by bugs and worms, 
while you swallowed down our berries by the 
quart! 
Nor is it a trifling charge that you devour the 
berries of ornamental shrubs and trees in the 
Autumn; such, for example, as the Tartarian 
Honeysuckle and the Mountain Ash. It is a 
nuisance to have these trees stript of ornament. 
All things considered, we regard you a greater 
pest to the horticulturist than the hated cherry- 
bird. And yet, while truth compels us to bring 
these charges against you, we love you still, and 
will not harm you. No stalking Nimrod shall 
hunt you down, within our premises. At times, 
when your bad manners provoke our indignation, 
you may expect to hear a lump of dirt coma 
whizzing about your ears, or Carlo may make you 
