17 L 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
the beef breeds, and the excellence of the Short¬ 
horns, it often happens that the Devon wins the 
first prize there. This was the case at the last Smith- 
field Butcher’s Fat Cattle Show, at which the Devon 
ox, whose portrait, from a photograph (originally 
appearing in the “ Agricultural Gazette,”) is here 
•given, was awarded the first premium for the best 
beef animal. It is rare that so beautiful an animal 
is seen. Its square outline, filled in with a perfect 
roundness of substance, makes up a figure rarely 
paralleled. This ox was 44- years old, weighed 2,128 
pounds, and was given the first place as the best 
animal out of the large number of the various 
breeds shown. ItJbeat many high-class Short-horns, 
not on account of their inferiority, for they were 
very good, but by its own extraordinary excellence. 
The picture is a good study of what a perfect Devon 
may be, and the fact that this favorite breed has 
lost nothing of its old excellence, but has merely 
been obscured for a time by the glare of popularity 
which has surrounded the Short-horns, should en¬ 
courage those who already own Devons to cultivate 
their herds, and bide the time when a wave of 
deserved popular estimation shall reach them. 
Among the Farmers—Ho. 16. 
BY ONE OP THEM. 
A Ton of Foilder for a Toil of Manure. 
C. and I were discussing Prickly Comfrey the 
other day, when I told him that I thought it quite 
likely that if he could manure it as he does rhu¬ 
barb, he would get as big a crop of leaves as its 
wildest advocates claim.—“ That is just what I 
want,” said he, “ and if anybody will show me how 
to turn a load of manure into a load of dry fodder, 
it is all I want.”—Sure enough, that puts the whole 
case in a nutshell—only the fodder must be good. 
It must impart no flavor to the milk, and it must 
dry easily, and keep well when dry, and be palata¬ 
ble, otherwise one might as well have the manure. 
Now as to this Prickly Comfrey, there is one ques¬ 
tion ho one seems able to answer : “ Will it become 
a weed and a nuisance ? ” We know it grows ram¬ 
pantly, lives through the winter well, and that an 
inch bit of the root will grow ; so the more it is 
plowed and grubbed the more it will spread, for 
aught that I see. It is first cousin to common 
old-fashioned garden Comfrey, of which I know 
little or nothing except by hearsay. About this 
Col. Frank Curtis makes a Statement. 
He says that, many years ago, an old family ser¬ 
vant, of the colored persuasion, was given a cottage 
and garden spot not far from the house. “Rheu- 
matiz,” and other pet ailments were duly minister¬ 
ed to by hot bricks and sand bags, and Comfrey, 
which was an indispensable article of the old ne j 
gro’s materia medica , had a conspicuous place in the 
garden. The old soul went where there is no more 
hard work nor rheumatic twinges ; the cottage and 
garden were swept away by the march of events,— 
but the Comfrey—that “ still lives.” It has a con¬ 
stitution as if it grew at Marshfield. The more it 
is mowed the wider it spreads, and if it blossoms— 
then it disseminates. [We think that a sufficient 
reply to our correspondent’s doubt is given on page 
130, last month.— Ed.] So I think we had best han¬ 
dle our prickly blessing cautiously, and stand ready 
to pile salt-hay or straw upon it some day, and 
smother it, if it really sets out to dispute possession 
of the land with us. The problem after all is how 
to apply manure to the best advantage. So far in 
the experience of the world 
Tile Cereals lead as Fodder Crops. 
When we find something which will convert a ton 
of manure into more and sweeter and more nutri¬ 
tious fodder than Evergreen or Mammoth Sweet 
Corn, we shall have made a long stride in advance. 
If the new French method of preserving green 
corn fodder in pits for winter use, somewhat as the 
Germans preserve cabbage in the form of sauer¬ 
kraut, is going to work well, it would be difficult 
to say exactly what in reason we could want more. 
There is something in this tanking of fodder crops, 
and I am confident it is not applicable alone to corn 
fodder—but think that all kinds of green feed may 
be preserved in some such way. 
Pitting Green Fodder 
is done by preparing tight pits or trenches, running 
the corn fodder through a hay cutter and into the 
pits, mixed more or less with straw or other dry 
fodder, according to the amount of moisture pres¬ 
ent in the corn, treading and packing the whole as 
tight as possible, and covering the mass so as to ex¬ 
clude the air except from the upper surface. Salt 
in moderate quantity is added upon the upper lay¬ 
er, I believe, and hay and planks are used as the 
covering, which is made to shed water. Active fer¬ 
mentation sets in, which causes the mass to settle, 
and the pit needs watching to see that it settles 
evenly, otherwise the air will enter, and the violent 
fermentation will keep up, and inevitably result in 
the decay of the whole mass ; but if the exclusion 
of the air be reasonably effected, I conceive that 
the very slow fermentation which will go on, will 
furnish just carbonic acid gas enough to render the 
very incomplete exclusion of the air, by the topping 
of hay and planks, quite effectual. This is prelimi¬ 
nary to a proper protection of the pits with earth 
for the winter. The earth is piled on as we cover 
root pits, and when the pits are opened, care is re¬ 
quisite again that they will be well stopped, so that 
air shall have but little access. We all know 
how it is with our cider barrels ; so long as the fer¬ 
mentation goes on with sufficient activity to be per¬ 
ceptible when the ear is laid over the bung hole, 
there is no danger of the eider becoming vinegary 
and hard—but when this ceases, the air will soon 
get to the cider and spoil it, if it be not prevented. 
[A detailed account of this process, with engrav¬ 
ings, will be found iD the American Agriculturist 
for June, 1875, page 222.—Ed.] 
Wooden Harrows and Clod-crushers. 
When I first came into this neighborhood, wood¬ 
en harrows were very common. We found one on 
the place and used it up. It was a large 6ized A- 
harrow, of oak throughout—I should say, white- 
oak beams and yellow or black-oak teeth. These 
were two inches in diameter, round, about ten inch¬ 
es long below the beam, and about four above. It 
was not of very heavy draft, and did fair work as a 
harrow, and when turned upon its back and used 
as a clod-crusher, it did admirably. I used to throw 
a log-chain over the outside teeth, so that the 
tracks of the teeth should be obliterated, and thus 
a capital finish was made. 1 am getting out some 
sticks for another one now, for we feel its loss. It 
is peculiarly adapted to light land, and to stubble- 
plowing, but is not so good on sward land. 
Wlieu to Seed Down to Grass. 
I have not a doubt that August is the best time. 
Grass sowed then looks well now, though it hardly 
started perceptibly before frost, and'it appeared to 
grow but little after that. Even that sowed with 
late rye is starting now finely, and will stand a 
drouth much better than any spring sown grass 
possibly can. Oats seem to be so much a necessity 
to horses, that I have favored seeding down with 
that crop, and raise generally only rye enough for 
what straw we need. But last summer’s experience 
is a warning. I met Mr. Barstowe, of Norwich, 
Ct., a life-long dealer in implements and seeds for 
farmers, and he appealed to me to know what time 
of the year it was best to sow grass seed. With the 
manner of Sir Oracle I said August, —and, it seems, 
confirmed some advice which he had just been 
giving. For my part I was very glad also to be con¬ 
firmed in my view by so experienced an observer. 
Rather than sow grass seed with oats, and take the 
chances of the summer, I think it will pay to plow 
the oat stubble, and sow the grass and clover to¬ 
gether as early as the oats cau be gotten off the land. 
Trees by the Roadside. 
It is so much easier to cut down than to set out 
a tree, and so few people really know what a tree 
is worth,that I almost despair of ever seeing road¬ 
side trees valued and cherished as they should be. 
There is hardly a roadside fence or wall, against 
which trees, which would be both ornamental and 
useful, do not spring up. It would hardly do to 
[May, 
let them grow by the wall, for they might throw it 
down, but we are quite too apt to let them grow 
by the fences. In fact, there is many a fence in 
this neighborhood made quite sustantial by the 
red cedars, which fairly hold it up. If these could 
be properly thinned out, and the brush trimmed 
out around them, it would be but a few years be¬ 
fore thay might be used as fence posts for either 
rail or wire-fencing. Trees of other kinds may be 
put to the same use, while at the same time they 
will grow large enough to shade the foot-path, 
and afford timber for fuel or other uses after a few 
years. The drafts which maples, tulip-trees, sweet- 
gums, basswoods, hickories, ashes, and probably 
many other trees, make upon the soil is very little, 
even when they stand in cultivated ground; but 
when they stand on the fence line of the highway, 
or better still if the road be wide enough, four feet 
from the fence, they will make no perceptible 
draft upon the fertility of adjoining fields. Elms, 
and several of the soft-wooded trees, poplars, wil¬ 
lows, etc., are different, and, being surface feeders, 
send their roots into the soil to great distances. 
Still, even these are better than no trees by the 
roadside, and the elms are especially adapted to the 
vicinity of dwellings, and in village streets (but 
not too close, so as to over-shadow houses and 
cause dampness), for in such places there is much 
unused ground where the tree may send its feeding 
roots without harm to valuable crops. What we 
need is a public sentiment in favor of preserving 
and protecting trees along the highways. So soon 
as the roads about any otherwise unattractive 
neighborhood are well lined with trees, it gains a 
reputation at once as “picturesque ” and “ charm¬ 
ing.” If it is anywhere in the vicinity of large 
towns, the price of building sites goes up, and the 
people appreciate trees. There is a feeling through 
the land that village streets, or the streets of house¬ 
less “ cities,” should be marked by shade trees. 
So maples, dug in the swamps and trimmed to bare 
poles, are set out 50 feet apart on each side of the 
so-called streets, and generally die of neglect or 
goats the first season. Why should not we think 
just as much of trees along our pleasant winding 
country roads, as where we have a “city” laid out 
in rectangles ? 
Rats and Mice. 
These vermin do not agree, and rats will soon 
drive mice away, so that when the latter get really 
numerous, and shrewd enough not to enter traps, 
as they often are, the incoming of rats may be hail¬ 
ed with gladness, for they are much more, easily 
destroyed. Last winter a neighboring farm-house 
was nearly overran with rats. They were under¬ 
mining the foundations, destroying a basket or two 
.of turnips and of apples every night. They would 
not look at traps; they were too numerous for 
cats; they could only be poisoned at the risk of 
destroying the chickens, for all ordinary poisons 
make the creatures sick, and they ran out of doors 
and throw off the load upon their stomachs, and 
this it is that poisons the chickens. Some one 
mentioned the use of plaster of Paris (calcined 
gypsum), so I brought some up from town for 
them. It was mixed dry with wheat flour and In¬ 
dian meal. The rats ate this; it set and sritled 
them, and we laughed over this mortar mortality ; 
but it does seem cruel—no worse, however, than 
poisoning with arsenic. 
Watering Manure Heaps. 
If manure can be kept where it is always filled 
with water in which it is partly submerged, and 
which fills the rest of the heap by capilarity, it will 
neither heat too much nor lose anything by evapora¬ 
tion. It is usually not difficult to mauage this in 
barn cellars, or under cover, provided it be built up 
over a tank or lie in a tight basin. In warm weather, 
however, evaporation goes on so rapidly from the 
spongy heap, that, unless water is pumped over it, 
or in some way be present in abundance, it will heat 
—burn—“ fire-fang ” tremendously. The treading 
down of the heap by cattle is alone not sufficient, 
unless the admixture of cow-dung be considerable. 
We have been busy getting out manure lately, 
and I have been impressed with the fact, that it is 
not that which is least fermented which is really 
