I 860 .] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
j ! as lettuce, radishes, peas, corn, etc. For part of 
these vve must leave the space free until the 
proper time of planting ; others maybe dropped 
here and there as earlier sorts are gathered. 
We may yet get a late crop of Early Kidney or 
even Lima beans by putting them in at once. 
The latter need not be lost if they should not ful¬ 
ly ripen in the Fall; picked off while yet green 
and dried in an open loft, they will furnish a fine 
relish for a cold winter’s day. Melons and squash¬ 
es may still be planted and if stimulated to rapid 
growth by poultry droppings or guano, and short¬ 
ened in to favor the growth of fruit, many good 
specimens can be gathered. It will be well in 
such cases to take off the later setting fruit which 
has little prospect of ripening; the strength of 
the vine will go to improve what is left. 
Cucumbers for pickles need not be planted un¬ 
til from the 10th to the 20th of the month. They 
will have abundant time to reach the proper size 
before frost closes the season. The insects will 
find their tender shoots greatly preferable to the 
fibrous leaves and vines of older plants; they 
must be carefully watched. 
Peas put in now will be less liable to attack 
from the weevil which earlier in the season de¬ 
posits its eggs in the young fruit. It is well to 
reserve the principal crop to be planted about 
this time. 
If pains were taken to secure a patch of very 
early potatoes as recommended in the Agricultur¬ 
ist for March, they will be ready for the table 
during this month. Corn for late use may be 
planted, or cabbages set out between the rows 
now ; they will have room enough until the pota¬ 
toes are dug, and be ready to occupy the ground 
left by that crop. Cabbages will also come in 
well where the spinach sown last Fall, has grown 
too large for the table ; enough of the latter 
should be left for seed. 
Beets are still in season for late sowings, and 
if started at once will be available for Summer 
use. The middle or last of the month is the 
right time for putting in the Winter supply. Va¬ 
cant corners here and there if large enough for 
only a single beet will look better thus occupied, 
than left open, or filled with purslain or pigweed. 
Turnips will also occupy an important place, 
and may be put in from the first of June to the 
middle of July, or even later. 
Insects and Fruits—A Familiar Talk. 
[The following dialogue was furnished too late for its 
regular place on the inside sheet, and being important at 
this season, we insert it here, though out of place.—E d.] 
Young Farmer. —Well, neighbor, I am glad you 
happened here this morning. I have been awake 
an hour or more, thinking about going into rais¬ 
ing fruit more extensively, as I read an article 
last evening about the profits of the business, 
which seemed to make it very plain that it would 
pay better than anything else I can do. But I 
have been looking at the dark side of the subject, 
and have hardly faith enough to plant another 
tree. There is no difficulty in getting and plant¬ 
ing fruit trees, and in making them grow well, 
and there is a good demand for all fruit that can 
be raised, at high prices ; but what’s the use of 
raising a crop for insects to destroy 1 When I 
bought this farm there were plenty of old trees 
upon it, but my plums are stung, and fall off when 
half ripe ; my apple, peach, and quince trees look 
sickly; a blight curls the peach leaves; and the 
caterpillar nests cluster thickly in apple, pear, and 
cherry trees, alike. To get a perfect specimen of 
ripened fruit, is a rare thing. 
Old Orchardist —I can readily appreciate your 
difficulties and you are not alone in this respect. 
Many others who formerly produced abundant 
crops of fruit, are now discouraged. Time was 
when nature’s provisions for keeping noxious in¬ 
sects in check were amply sufficient to make fruit¬ 
growing an easy matter. The insects were ap¬ 
pointed to keep in check a too luxuriant vegeta¬ 
tion ; and birds were provided to keep the insects 
themselves within due limits. But the balance 
has been destroyed; the birds have been in a 
measure annihilated, and the insects have gone 
on multiplying until they now hold almost undis¬ 
puted sway. Still we can resort to other reme¬ 
dies, and by a continued warfare with the destroy¬ 
ers, we can greatly lessen their ravages. I yet 
find fruit-growing feasible and profitable, and an 
annual return of good apples, fine plums, cherries, 
peaches, and quinces, rewards all the care and 
labor required to obtain them. 
Young Farmer —I am glad to get a word of en¬ 
couragement ; I love fruits, and I would ask no 
more pleasant business than fruit growing if I 
could by any amount of labor succeed. Let us 
walk out among my trees while waiting for 
breakfast.See that fine old apple tree. 
Away in the top are two caterpillar nests from 
which there will come forth an army of insects 
to riddle the leaves, and leave the tree as bare of 
foliage as if it had stood in a burning brush heap. 
This has been the case for years past, and the 
apples, deprived of the shade and nourishment of 
the leaves, have been sickly, sorry looking, half- 
grown specimens. I have pulled down the nests, 
and have shot them to pieces with guns charged 
with powder only, but the caterpillars build them 
again, as fast as I can destroy them. 
Old Orchardist. —You have probably done this 
too late in the day. During 
Spring, the caterpillars gather in 
these nests at night, and do not 
leave them in the morning until 
the dew is off, and then they scat¬ 
ter over the leaves, and are safe 
while you pull down their house, 
which they at once rebuild. You 
should destroy the nests as soon 
as they appeared in Spring, and 
this should be done early in the 
morning. It is the early man as 
well as the “ early bird that 
catches the worm.” To remove* 
these nests I use a spiral brush, 
of which here is a sketch (fig. 1). 
It is simply bristles twisted be¬ 
tween wires, and can be bought 
ready made at the agricultural or 
brush stores for a small sum. 
This I tie upon the end of a pole, 
and twist it into the nests and 
pull them down and burn them. 
By following up this work care- 
Fig. 1. fttlly for a few mornings in Spring, 
I have succeeded in destroying 
nests of the caterpillar tribe, and should have 
been rid of the pests long since, but from the fact 
that a neighbor of mine raises them in his trees, 
and a colony annually emigrates to my orchard. 
Young Farmer. —I will send for one of these 
brushes, or make one, at once, and try your 
early-in-the-morning treatment. But what have 
you to say of this cherry tree just here, and that 
pear tree there. There are no caterpillar nests 
visible, and yet their leaves are riddled to skele¬ 
tons, much like those shown in the April number 
of the American Agriculturist ? My rose bushes 
are similarly affected. 
Old Orchardist. —I am afraid you are not a care¬ 
ful, close observer, or you would have found upon 
these leaves thousands of the little slugs or small 
<U 
green worms, tapering all the way from the head 
to the tail. There are several varieties of ihose, 
resembling each other enough to he cousins 14 
least, and these do the mischief you refer to 
You must make their habitations unhealthy for 
them, by tying a small muslin bag to the end of a 
pole having previously filled it with ashes or 
slaked lime. Shake this over the plants until 
they are well dusted and the slugs will “ quit or 
die.” Or you may treat them to a shower-bath 
thus : Dissolve a pound of whale oil soap, (which 
will cost but a few pennies) in about six gallons 
of water. Throw this upon the leaves, under 
and over, with a hand syringe or garden engine. 
This will destroy the first brood. A wet k or so 
after, another brood will be hatched, and these 
must be destioyed in like manner. A few appli¬ 
cations of this kind, either the ashes or lime dust, 
or the whale oil soap, will dispatch the slugs and 
their progeny. 
Young Farmer —I will try it; the cost and la¬ 
bor are nothing compared to the benefit, it' [ can 
get rid of their trouble. But how about the 
plums! I have a fine crop 
started as you see, yet judging 
from the experience of the 
past two years, I shall not have 
a perfect ripe plum 
Old Orchardist .— Here, look 
at. this specimen and you will 
see the “turk” himself—this 
little brownish bug— curctilio 
they call him—that you havp 
perhaps not seen before be¬ 
cause you did not look sharply 
Fig 2. 
after him. He is a troublesome 
fellow at best, and so troublesome that a score or 
hundred men have set their wits to work t« 
compass his destruction. We have had all sorts 
of remedies and nostrums proposed, patented and 
unpatented,public and secret,sure cures—but most 
if not all of them are unavailing. I have found 
nothing so effectual as the lime or ashes dust 
bag used frequently about the time the fruit sets, 
and until the plums are of considerable size, 
and the skin hard—say when the fruit is two- 
thirds grown. The dusting should be done iri the 
morning, when the tree is wet with dew, and two 
or throe times a week. You will thus get a fair 
crop of perfect fruit, worth much more than the 
trouble it costs. Some have found the whale-oil 
soap beneficial, applied two or three times a week 
as recommended for the dusting. You might, try 
this on a tree or two and note the results, f have 
been satisfied with the dusting. As you have a 
large stock of curculios, I would advise you to 
try both ; that is dust the trees once or more a 
week, and treat them to soap about as often, sav 
three days after each dusting. 
Young Farmer. —Over here are some recently 
planted apple and pear trees, whose trunks ami 
larger limbs have not a bright healthful look ; 
what is the trouble with them! Neighbor L says 
I manured them too much. 
Old Orchardist. —Look carefully at the bark, 
and you will see whitish specks or scales. There 
are a few large ones remaining from last year, 
but most of them have fallen off. I will raise one 
of the old ones with the point of my knife, and 
let you look on the under side with my pocket 
microscope. You see quite a mountain heap of 
eggs under each scale. You perhaps see one or 
more insects already hatched. These are the 
eggs of the “scale” or “ bark-louse,” but most 
of them have hatched out, and the white specks 
are the young insects. Washing and rubbing 
the bark with a cloth dipped in water, in which 
a little soft soap, or potash is dissolved, will 
