:jO 2 
AMUR iGAN T AG RICUI/I'U RR 
Shall we Plow in the Pall? 
All lands, except light loams and sandy soils, 
are benefited by Fall plowing, unless they are ex¬ 
posed to washing. Steep side bills should never 
be plowed in the Fall, unless you sow them im¬ 
mediately with grain or grass seed, to furnish 
roots for holding the soil in place. 
But all heavy loams lying flat, and clays, are 
greatly benefited by Fall plowing. The teams are 
generally in the best condition for plowing at this 
season. They have had good pasturage through 
the Summer, and, as a rule, have less to do than 
in the Winter and Spring. It puts the Spring 
work very much ahead to have all the green 
sward turned over in the Fall. However much 
of this may be done, the teams will have enough 
to do in the Spring, in carting manure, cross- 
plowing, harrowing, and getting ready for sowing 
and planting. 
In the Fall, the lands that are most benefited 
by plowing, are generally in the best condition 
for the operation. In the Spring, they are often 
so wet that they can not be plowed until May or 
June. Now they are dry, and will crumble as 
they are turned over. 
By plowing now, they are prepared to receive 
the full benefit of the action of frost, rain, and 
snow through the Winter. There are no dis¬ 
integrators like the elements. Stiff clays and 
hard-pans are made loose and friable by these 
exposures. The more rough and broken they are 
left by the plow, the better. Then, there are 
rough pasture swards full of brush and rank 
weeds, and reclaimed swamps with a thick turf of 
swamp grasses, that are best subdued by tearing 
them up now. They freeze and thaw through 
the Winter, and little life is left in them by Spring. 
Besides this, plowing has an important influ¬ 
ence upon insect life. Many insects burrow in 
the earth, and if left undisturbed, come forth with 
new life in the Spring. Plowing disturbs their 
Winter arrangements, and kills myriads of their 
larva;. At this season the soil may be safely 
plowed deeper than in the Spring. The inch or 
two of yellow soil will undergo important changes 
before Spring .—American Agriculturist. 
How to Get a Farm in the Forest ? 
“A new home in the West! Who will follow I” 
is an old cry still uttered. There is much land 
to be possessed both at the West and at the East; 
for land is so cheap, and the country has been 
so rapidly settled, that immense tracts bought 
up by speculators, or overlooked as of inferior 
quality, have been left, like the wilderness upon 
the borders of civilization. In the oldest States, 
we find thousands of acres of land untouched by 
the plow, and in some of them, whole sections or 
townships still covered with the primitive forest. 
The prairies of the West already cleared and 
ready for the plow, have drawn emigrants thith¬ 
er, while large tracts of heavily timbered lands 
near good markets, have been passed by. 
How shall a young farmer who has plenty of 
muscle, but little cash, get him a home in the 
shortest time in one of these new regions! We 
will suppose that he has bought his quarter sec¬ 
tion, and paid for it, and has a few hundred dol¬ 
lars left for his buildings, stock, and farming tools. 
He wants every thing all at once, but must, of 
necessity, wait some years before ka can have a 
finished home, and surround himself with the 
comforts of a well cultivated farm. What shall 
he do first, and what shall he wait for! 
The common ambition of making a clean sweep 
of the forest, is to be avoided, especially upon the 
new lands in the old States. It can not be long 
before they will be needed for timber, and will 
pay a good interest on the investment, if spared 
for this purpose. It is common to girdle trees 
in the forest, and to put in a crop the following 
Spring, without waiting to clear the land. The 
trees die along in mid-summer, and the corn ri¬ 
pens tolerably well, and half a crop is sometimes 
realized the first season. The land is plowed 
the second season, as well as it can be, and the 
plowing hastens the decay of the roots, and the 
fall of the trees. In four or five years, most of 
the trees have rotted down, or blown over, and 
been gathered and burned in heaps upon the 
land. This is the almost universal practice in 
the Southern States, particularly in the cotton 
region, where the warm, moist atmosphere has¬ 
tens the process of decay. This is a cheap pro¬ 
cess of getting rid of the timber, but requires 
time. It may do to apply this process in our 
northern forests, where there is no market for 
wood or timber, at least to a part of the first 
clearing. 
Another method is to cut down the trees, and 
with oxen pile them in large heaps, and burn 
them. This clears the land of everything but 
stumps, at once, and prepares the way for a full 
crop the first season, if the land is plowed. But 
it costs a good deal to clear land in this way, 
generally several times more than the price of 
the land. The extra yield of corn and potatoes, 
however, is usually enough to make up the dif¬ 
ference in price. It will do to clear a few acres 
in this way the first season. A part of it may be 
plowed, and cultivated with corn and potatoes, 
the first season. 
As grass and hay are prime necessities, anoth¬ 
er part may be sown with grass seed as soon as 
the ground is burnt over. The seed will catch 
on the new burnt soil without plowing, but would 
do better to be scratched in with a bush harrow, 
or cultivator. It may be sown either in the 
Spring upon the last snow, or about the first of 
September. If herds-grass and clover are sown, 
the cows will have a good bite the year after 
sowing, or, if the ground be fenced, there will 
be a good hay crop. 
A pasture may be prepared by simply girdling 
the trees, turning over the ground to clear it of 
leaves and branches, and sowing grass seed. 
This will furnish grass fora few years, until there 
is time for more thorough preparation. Avoid 
the passion for small lots. Many settlers spend 
strength enough to clear a farm, in making fen¬ 
ces. Twenty acre lots are much better than 
two acre lots, and make a very great saving in 
the preparation of the land for tillage. 
Another error to be avoided in a new country, 
is the idea that a virgin soil is always to main¬ 
tain its fertility without manure. Fronj the first 
start, provision should be made to save every 
thing in the shape of manure. If the barn is a 
log barn, let it have a cellar, and sheds or hovels 
at the sides of the yard, where manure can be 
mixed with leaves or muck, and be protected 
from the weather until it is wanted for use. The 
pigs also should be yarded, and their manure be 
saved. It is comparatively easy to keep a virgin 
soil in an improving condition. It is a very ex¬ 
pensive process to restore its fertility, when lost. 
Much as a young farmer wants money, he wants 
a farm still more, and it will be a very bad move 
for him pecuniarily, to enlarge his bank stock at 
the expense of his farm. Many a man loses his 
farm in his effort to fill his purse. New land 
may be so cultivated as to lose none of its fertili¬ 
ty. All the surplus funds of the young farmer 
may be safely invested in his land and buildings 
■> 1'. [October, 
for the first ten years. The capital will pay bet¬ 
ter there, than in any other place. 
Another common error of farmers in new 
countries, is to sell only vegetable products - 
grain, hay, flax, cotton, tobacco, hemp, etc. This 
is sometimes a necessity, but is always bad poli¬ 
cy. Upon these new lands in the old States, it is 
generally practicable to sell animal products. 
Cattle and wool can be raised at points remote 
from market, and pay a handsome profit. In rais¬ 
ing a horse or cow, manure enough is left upon 
the farm, if it is properly cared for, to prevent the 
deterioration of the land. The dairy business is 
still better for the soil, for it keeps the animals 
still longer upon the farm, and makes more ma¬ 
nure.— Written for the American Agriculturist. 
--»•-«-—- 
How I Became a Farmer. 
VALUABLE EXPERIENCE OF A MECHANIC TURNED 
FARMER. 
To the Editor of the American Agriculturist: 
Will you allow me a little space to record my 
experience?—not because it contains any thing 
very remarkable, nor that I think it valuable be¬ 
cause it is mine, but that others who are sit¬ 
uated as I was, may, perhaps, seethe way to rea¬ 
lize what they have long been waiting to secure, 
a home in the country. I was born and reared 
in New-York city, and save an occasional visit 
to friends living in the country, I knew noth¬ 
ing of farm life, until within the past few years. 
I learned the cabinet maker’s trade, and worked 
at it steadily for twelve years. During that lime 
I found a use for articles of my own make, to 
the extent of six chairs, with other things in pro¬ 
portion—four children having fallen to our lot. 
Having no capital, I was obliged to remain a 
journeyman, or do piece-work, and any one know¬ 
ing the active competition that has prevailed in 
this business, can readily believe that, alter 
making both ends meet, at the year’s end there 
was but little left to lap over with. As my little 
ones grew up around me, regard for their health 
and morals, and anxiety to meet increasing ex¬ 
penses, incited me to try and secure a home in 
the country. 
In the Spring of 1854 I received an offer to worb 
in a village in this county, which I gladly accept¬ 
ed, as it brought me one step nearer what I de¬ 
sired. I looked about for a place a little out of 
the village, where I could have a piece of land 
to cultivate, believing that if I could but make a 
beginning, I could work out to the end. I found 
a comfortable house with two acres of ground 
attached, at a moderate rent, and it would have 
done you good to see the delight of the little 
ones when we took possession. They had never 
conceived of such extensive playgrounds, having 
always been confined to a narrow back yard, and 
an occasional walk in the crowded city street. 
I stipulated with my employer for time enough 
to work my garden, and made a commencement. 
It was awkward business I assure you. My neigh¬ 
bors must have laughed at my simple questions ; 
but they were very kind in advising and aiding 
me ; and moreover, having seen a copy of the 
Agriculturist and at once subscribed for it, I soon 
had the satisfaction of seeing my own vines and 
eating their fruit, and the probability of some 
day sitting under my own fig tree became quite 
inspiring. Being entirely ignorant, I was not 
afraid to try what I saw recommended, and though 
I was sometimes laughed at for following the 
book, as they called it, I learned, in time, that 
printed experience was often as valuable as that 
learned by word of mouth—in fact, some of my 
vegetables, raised in what they called “new fash- 
