1871 .] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
295 
what I have “ on the brain,” and I could wish 
that all the good fanners in the United States 
were affected with the same disease. I say good 
farmers, because a poor, careless feeder and 
manager can never have good stock, no matter 
what breed he selects. Of course there is a 
great difference in the different breeds of ani¬ 
mals, some are adapted for one purpose and 
some for another; and it is here that the farmer 
should call to his aid all the information he can 
obtain. No breed is best everywhere and in 
all circumstances, and he is a "quack” who 
claims any thing of the sort. 
"Again,” the same writer continues, "Walks 
and Talks sometimes nauseates me a little in 
his rotation system. He generally commences 
with turning down a clover sod. Now this is 
all right, if said farmer lives where clover does 
well, and does not freeze out, as clover and win¬ 
ter wheat frequently do, in a large portion of 
the countrjq and if all farming could commence 
on old land, fenced off in five or six fields ready 
to his hand; but such is not the case. When a 
farmer commences with breaking prairie sod 
or clearing timber land, making his own rails 
to fence, you see such rotation is absurd, and 
seems in many cases to create a distaste for 
agricultural information from such writers.” 
This is rather severe, and I hope unjust. I 
should be exceedingly glad to adopt the sug¬ 
gestion of the gentleman, and commence my 
rotation with a prairie sod, were it not for the 
fact that there is not a bit of prairie sod within 
hundreds of miles of me. This may be my mis¬ 
fortune, but can hardly be considered my fault. 
I have to begin my rotation with W'hat I hap¬ 
pen to have. I have talked and written a good 
deal about rotation, simply because it is an ex¬ 
ceedingly important matter, and one which 
necessarily largely occupies my thoughts, es¬ 
pecially with reference to the question of killing 
weeds. I bought a wet, w r eedy, run-down (but 
not exhausted) farm, and I am trying to drain 
it, to clear it, and to make it productive. If it 
was in Illinois, I should have adopted different 
methods from what I thought best here. 
When I lived in the city I had a garden; I 
wrote a number of articles called “ Walks and 
Talks in the Garden,” arid when I sold the 
garden and bought a farm, I commenced to 
write “Walks and Talks on the Farm.” I lit¬ 
tle thought that they would attract half the at¬ 
tention they seem to have done, or I most cer¬ 
tainly never should have written them. I have 
told what I have done and suffered, what I have 
hoped and feared. I have given a faithful rec¬ 
ord of my farm life; its pleasures and draw¬ 
backs, its successes and failures. I have received 
complimentary letters from hundreds of farmers 
whom I have never seen, in all parts of the coun¬ 
try. They have been a source of much encour¬ 
agement and pleasure, and, on the whole, I am 
not sorry that I have written them. But it 
should be understood that these “ Walks and 
Talks” are not editorial articles, designed to 
give directions for the management of farms in 
all parts of the country where the American 
Agriculturist circulates. They are merely a 
record of what I am doing on my own farm, 
with such reflections as may seem pertinent. I 
never supposed that a cotton-planter in South 
Carolina, or a sugar-planter in Louisiana, or a 
corn-grower on the rich bottoms of the South¬ 
west, would adopt the same rotation that I find 
best on the wheat-growing land of Western 
New York. The truth is, practical agriculture 
can never be taught by book and papers, or by 
agricultural colleges. They can onlj' teach gen¬ 
eral principles. The application must be left 
to the good sense of the individual farmer. If 
he has got good sense, a good agricultural pa¬ 
per will be a great help to him; if he has not, 
he had better turn his attention to something 
else than farming. A farmer, of all men, must 
learn to think for himself, and that book or 
paper is best that furnishes food for thought, 
and stimulates him to persevering efforts in im¬ 
proving himself and his land. 
The principles of agriculture are the same in 
Illinois as in New York; but the mode of apply¬ 
ing them differs with the soil and climate. For 
my part, I read the Prairie Farmer and the 
Western Rural with as much interest as I do 
the New England Farmer and the Albany Cul¬ 
tivator. They furnish me as much useful infor¬ 
mation as the excellent agricultural journal 
published in my own county. And yet the 
mode of farming practiced in these different 
sections of the country is very different from 
that adopted here. If a man will honestly tell 
what he is doing on his farm, and what the re¬ 
sult is, I do not care w’here he resides. I should 
read his statement with interest. 
What I have on the brain is weeds. Some 
people think that with modern agricultural im¬ 
plements, and the vast extent of fertile land in 
the United States, we shall produce so much 
more grain, and meat, and wool, than can pos¬ 
sibly be consumed by our population, that prices 
will fall so low that there will be no profit in 
farming. Were it not for weeds and insects, 
such probably would be the case. My ow* 
farm and the Deacon’s are overrun with weeds. 
We are fighting them to the extent of our 
ability, aud are meeting with gratifying success. 
Our farms are becoming cleaner and cleaner 
every year 1 , but even yet the weeds cost us more 
than all other taxes—town, county, State, and 
national—direct and indirect, combined. I do 
not mean that the labor of destroying them 
costs so much, but the weeds that escape, dam¬ 
age our crops to such an extent, that we lose 
half our profits. You must recollect that the 
actual profits of farming, after deducting the 
interest on capital, the cost of labor (our own 
or others’), the wear and tear of implements, etc., 
are exceedingly small. I know ofcomparativel} r 
few farms where, after making these deductions, 
the actual profits are more than five dollars per 
acre. On the other hand, I know of scores of 
farms where, at least on some fields, the weeds 
damage the crops ten dollars per acre. And, 
depend upon it, no farmer can be really success¬ 
ful until lie makes an earnest, persevering ef¬ 
fort to clean his land. It is fortunate for us, 
that the means used to accomplish this ob¬ 
ject will do much towards enriching the soil. 
I was in Genesee the other day, looking at 
Mr. Wadsworth’s fine herd of Shorthorns. The 
pastures on these celebrated Genesee fiats are 
overrun with weeds, and I saw in one field six 
men with scythes, cutting thistles. The soil is 
very rich, and, although it is flooded nearly 
every spring, there is abundant opportunity for 
draining. I saw one field of six acres, that 
yielded over 80 bushels of shelled corn per acre 
last year. And yet the pastures adjoining do 
not carry more than one steer to three acres. 
The more experienced feeders say that the great 
point is to stock so light that the steers have 
abundance of feed throughout the season. 
They go to Buffalo in the spring, and buy in 
the market three and four year old steers, weigh¬ 
ing about 800 lbs., at, say, 5’[ a cents per lb. 
They are turned on to these rich pastures, and 
kept until the grass fails in the fall. The average 
gain on a fair lot is about 350 lbs. If they get a 
cent a lb. more for them when fat than they paid 
for them, they think they are doing well. They 
make about $30 per head, or say $10 per acre. 
Canada steers are preferred. They do not care 
how thin they are, provided they are thrifty. 
As one of the graziers expressed it, they like to 
“buy bones to put flesh on.” I was a little dis¬ 
appointed in these meadows and pastures. 
There arc too many weeds, and much of the 
grass is coarse. A little draining, and judicious 
management, would render them capable of 
carrying much more stock. 
It would seem as though this splendid sec¬ 
tion would become the head-quarters of the State 
for Shorthorn cattle. The time will surely 
come, when it will be more profitable to raise 
and fatten good cattle that mature early, than 
to depend on buying “ bags of bones,” for the 
purpose of putting a little flesh on them during 
the summer, and selling them in the fall, at a 
time when beef brings a comparatively low 
price. The English farmers find it highly 
profitable to feed their cattle and sheep some 
grain or oilcake while at pasture. This improves 
the land almost as much as it improves the 
stock. But it is necessary to have well-bred 
animals, that grow rapidly and mature early. 
Shorthorns are being gradually introduced 
among the enterprising young farmers up the 
valley, aud the general stock of the district 
shows a marked improvement over that in this 
neighborhood. I found, however, that the 
opinion wasuot uncommon, among even good, 
sensible, successful farmers, that there was 
more money to be made from the so-called 
native stock than from Shorthorns and their 
grades. And I have no doubt they are right, 
unless a system of higher feeding is adopted. 
A good many long-wooled Canada sheep are 
kept, and seem to be gradually displacing the 
Merinoes. Some of the farmers, however, seem 
to give these sheep no more attention than they 
have been in the habit of bestowing on their 
Merinoes. They let them have plenty of food 
when they have it to spare, and when they are 
short the sheep have to pick up a living as best 
they may. “ There is no profit in sheep,” they 
say; and they aYe right, when the sheep are half- 
starved, and compelled to eke out their subsist¬ 
ence from their own accumulated flesh and fat. 
But I am inclined to think that a properly man¬ 
aged flock of sheep will pay better in this sec¬ 
tion, to-day, than any other farm stock. This 
is John Johnston’s opinion, and I know of no 
farmer who has had greater experience, or 
whose judgment is more to be depended upon. 
“ If you ever have footrot break out among, 
your sheep” said Mr. Johnston, “let me know, 
and, if I am well enough, I will come and show 
you how to cure it. You can do it yourself; 
but I have told a good many people how to dr? 
it, but I scarcely ever knew' one of them who 
succeeded. They don’t follow the directions.” 
‘‘I thought at one time,” he continued, “it 
would ruin me. I had over a thousand sheep, 
and the footrot broke out among them. We 
could cure the sheep affected, but it kept break¬ 
ing out among the others. I went to bed one 
night greatly distressed about it. I kept think¬ 
ing and thinking the matter all over. Finally 
I exclaimed, ‘ I have it! ’ ‘ Have what ?’ asked 
my wife. ‘ I have found out how to cure the 
footrot.’ • ‘ I am afraid you’ll never do that, 
John,’ she replied. ‘ Yes, I can, I am sure of 
it.’ In the morning I told the man to get up 
the sheep, and we went at if. We dressed every _ 
