AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 51 
this year at least. May we not hope that the 
same Jack Frost (22° below zero for three 
nights) has also put the insect enemies of 
the tree hors du combat for some time to 
come. March lias been a winter month this 
year, but it is a long road that has no turn. 
WATERL00,tMarch 26, 1855. N’IMPORTE. 
For the American Agriculturist. 
HARROWING WHEAT ON NEW LAND- 
About eighteen years ago, when I was a 
boy, my grandfather had apiece of new land 
sowed in the fall with wheat, which, giving 
no signs of vegetation in the spring, was 
sowed over again on the 12th day April, with 
two bushels of oats per acre and one bushel 
of common blue plaster, while I harrowed 
them in. At harvest time we had the largest 
crop of grain I ever saw cut on the ground 
with a cradle. It yielded about 20 bushels 
of wheat and thirty bushels of oats per acre. 
We tried it bolted for bread, but it was not 
palatable for man, though we had the best 
lot of horse feed in the neighborhood. I 
was well convinced at the time, and forever 
alter, that the harrowing and plaster brought 
that wheat forward. Since that time I have 
harrowed new ground wheat several times, 
and invariably with great success. The 
harrow should be very sharp and not a very 
heavy wood. The roots of the wheat were 
woven in with the roots of the stumps and 
every small fiber on the ground, so that there 
was very little torn out of the ground. Iam 
not positive that this operation would be good 
for old ground wheat, for it might uproot a 
great quantity of the grain. 
This process of harrowing wheat operates 
to a good effect in two ways: First, it 
cultivates the land by refreshing it, and 
covers up the plaster, which should always 
be sown after the first harrowing; and sec¬ 
ondly, it cuts and divides the shoots in such 
a way that it is very much like transplanting. 
I have even gone further in this renewing of 
crops. I have tried it on old meadows that 
were nearly run out, and by sowing on three 
or four quarts of Timothy seed I have had 
my meadows yield me double the amout of 
hay to the acre. 
To renew old meadows you must begin 
directly after mowing them. First sow on 
the seed, and then harrow and cross harrow, 
and you will be paid with double the amount 
of hay. You may benefit your meadows 
from one-third to one-half by harrowing with¬ 
out any seed. This operates the same as 
the wheat; but your fertilizer need not be 
put on until spring. Where your meadows 
are naturally wet, this process is better than 
plowing them up and seeding them anew. 
A. S. Smith. 
Nichols, Tioga Co., N. Y. 
AMERICAN SALT MEATS IN FRANCE. 
The Parisian correspondent of the N. Y. 
Journal of Commerce says : Nearly three 
columns of the Constitutionnel of this morn¬ 
ing are conceded to the prices of meat and 
the value of North American supplies. In 
another journal, a sensible writer had proved 
that the main dependence of France and 
Europe must be on the United States, and 
not on the regions of La Plata, of which the 
beef had excited strong hopes and set many 
scientific heads on processes of jerking and 
preservation. According to the Constitu¬ 
tionnel butcher’s meat has advanced in 
France 40 per cent, since 1852. The causes 
are assigned, and they olfer but little en¬ 
couragement for the future. Among the 
working class the evil is the sorest, next to 
the dearness of bread, which the provinces 
suffer, not the privileged metropolis. Our 
Republic’s immense production of anima 
food is detailed by the French writer. T 
seems inexhaustible—adequate for the rest 
of the world ; and the Indian corn with which 
the hogs are fattened! In fine, he observes, 
North America, with its magnificent rivers, 
its prodigious net of railroads and canals, is 
the only country of the globe which can re¬ 
lieve our dearth and distress, and send us 
salted meats at a low price. The rates of 
our pork and beef, as now sold and eagerly 
sought at Marseilles and the chief manufac¬ 
turing cities of the north, east and west, are 
then reported ; soon there will be an unlimi¬ 
ted demand. At the end of the editorial ar¬ 
ticle specific directions are given, touching 
the preparation for the table, of the excellent 
American salt meats. 
For the American Agriculturist. 
REMINISCENCES OF BOYHOOD DAYS UPON THE 
FARM. 
The golden age of human life, as of the 
world in which w r e live, is always in the fu¬ 
ture or the past; it is never present. 
“ Hope springs eternal in the human breast 
Man never is, but always to be blessed.’’ 
Yes ; to most men rest is future; it is sel¬ 
dom here ; but sometimes the sunshine that 
illumines the future throws a bright halo 
about the past. The gray-headed veteran 
talks of “ the good old times,” when he was 
a boy. The man who has just begun to de¬ 
scend the declivity of life imagines that the 
days of boyhood were more sunny than those 
of mature life; and, in fact they were so. 
With most men the first years of life are the 
best. The innocence of youth brings happi¬ 
ness. The pleasures of youth bring a higher 
relish. Sleep is sweeter. The cares of 
wealth, office and duty are unknown. We 
love, therefore, to review the scenes of 
childhood. ’Tis sweet, only in memory to 
visit the old homestead. It is this power of 
association that gives such an undying charm 
to “ sweet home,” to “ the cot where I was 
born,” to “ the old oaken bucket that hung 
in the well,” and other popular songs whose 
beauty never fades. 
New-Hampshire has a cold climate and a 
comparatively barren soil. Let a stranger 
pass from Portsmouth, to Coos County, on 
the line of the railroad, and he will wonder 
how sufficient space can be cleared of stones 
to furnish arable land to the farmers. In 
some of the best agricultural towns, from 
large portions of the arable land, stones 
enough have been taken to cover the entire 
soil with a pavement. Several crops of 
stones are successively taken off. Every 
time the ground is plowed, a new coat of 
stones appears upon the surface. The farm 
on which I passed the first 20 years of my 
life was one of the best grass farms in the 
County of Belknap. It had a northern ex¬ 
posure inclining very much toward the polar 
regions. It was two weeks later in spring, 
on this account, than farms with a southern 
inclination which were in sight of my father’s 
windows. The northeast storms, in winter, 
were terrible. The snow drifts were piled 
so high that all fences and all traces of the 
road were often obliterated. Travelers often 
wandered from the highway, over the drifted 
snow, hardened by furious eastern blasts, into 
the adjacent fields, and sometimes their lives 
were periled by their mistakes. The last 
traces of these mountain drifts did not dis¬ 
appear till the spring wheat was sown on the 
ridges above them. 
The process of preparing the ground for a 
crop is still fresh in my memory. The 
breaking up of the green sward was done in 
the fall. The stones that had gradually been 
denuded by culture, were dug out. Some 
of them only presented, like buried giants, 
their noses to the sun. Then a huge pit 
must be dug to loosen the earth around 
them. Strong chains were bound about them 
and four large oxen were hitched on and, 
their strength, with the aid of pries (levers) 
behind would unhouse the monsters and 
expose them to the open day. The whole 
piece was thoroughly scoured and every 
hidden enemy was routed and drawn off. 
Then, if there were stone heaps upon the 
ground, the larger ones were carted away 
and thrown into stacks in some corner of 
the field or dumped down by the road side. 
Being so placed, they gave a slovenly ap¬ 
pearance to the highway and among them, 
all kinds of briars grew unmolested. The 
small stones from the heaps were tossed 
about the ground and plowed in. It was a 
theory of my father that they kept the ground 
loose and attracted the heat of the sun. It 
is quite probable they were of some utility 
to the crop in preventing the soil from be¬ 
coming too compact and in conducting heat. 
When the ground was laid down to grass, 
many of these same stones worked then- 
way to the top and must be removed to save 
the scythe in haying. Picking stones, 
alone, in a cold, cloudy day of spring, before 
the snows have entirely disappeared from 
along the fences, is about as uninviting a 
process as can be named. No power of 
imagination can throw a charm about it. It 
wears out the fingers and the patience. It 
makes the back ache and the head swim. 
Many a time, when the genial sun had mas¬ 
tered the cold, and broken through the clouds 
have I seated myself on a dry spot of earth 
and whiled away an hour in play with my 
little black dog, “ Tiro.” But the little cur 
had no sympathy with my toil. He would 
stay with me no longer than the play lasted. 
The chimney corner pleased him better than 
the damp ground. When it was found that 
“ Tiro ” and I did less than I ordinarily ac¬ 
complished alone, the dog was detained at 
home. I was heartily rejoiced when my 
father resolved to clear every stone heap 
from his fields and never to disfigure the lot 
with a new one. Then there was no more 
solitary stone picking for poor me. All 
hands were detailed for that purpose, and 
the stones were thrown directly into a cart 
and drawn from the ground. Then the 
change from picking stones to driving oxen 
and riding back in the empty cart gave a 
little variety to the business, and occasion¬ 
ally rested the fingers and back. How nice 
and fresh the green sward looked, as the 
young clover and herdsgrass covered the 
ground and relieved the eye with their beau¬ 
tiful verdure. I was always anxious to 
have every rolling stone removed; for it 
was my duty to turn the grind-stone, whe 
one of these “ hard heads ” was shaven by 
the-scythe. I can almost feel the ache in 
my arm now, as the holder bore on to a 
thick stone hung upon a wooden frame, 
giving a piercing scream at every revolu¬ 
tion. Then, to be waked at 4 o’clock in the 
morning, and summoned to this monotonous 
task, often gave a tinge of sadness to the 
joyous days of youth. The night seemed 
too short, in summer, for restoring tone and 
vivacity to tired nature. In fact the philoso¬ 
phy of the boy for once was right. No lad 
from 10 to 15 years of age should be sum¬ 
moned, at such an hour, to such a task. 
E. D. S. 
How Prize Cattle are Fed. —Mr. J. P. 
Phillips, of Broomborough, near Totness, in 
Devonshire, had a fine animal which was 
much admired for its size and symmetry. 
On the 19th of June last it weighed 13 cwt. 
1 qr. 14 lbs., and was fed on grass till the 
18th of September, when it weighed 15 cwt. 
1 qr. 18 lbs.; it was then put on common 
turnips till the 30th of October, when it 
weighed 16 cwt. 1 qr. 8 lbs.; from that time 
it was fed with'Mangold, meal, and hay till 
