180 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[May, 
Sheep-Shearing in California. 
The method of shearing the large flocks 
which are kept in parts of California is worthy 
of the special attention of those who own many 
sheep in other parts of the country, and is not 
wit'n out interest to those who raise even a few 
sheep. In California the wool is clipped from 
the sheep twice every year, and usually in May 
and September. This is done for two reasons: 
the health of the sheep is improved by it, and 
the fall clip is worth more than the spring clip, 
it being freer from burs, which reduce the value 
of the whole fleece. The lambs are also shorn 
in the fall. The clipping time is a busy one 
and occupies a month on the larger ranches, 
such as the Tejon ranche, where many thou¬ 
sand sheep are kept. The arrangements upon 
this estate for shearing are similar to those of 
other large establishments, and the description 
here given will bo understood by reference to 
the engraving, in which the whole operation 
in its several details is illustrated. The shear¬ 
ers at Tejon (pronounced TeTione ) are Indians 
and Mexicans, who are very expert, and can clip 
on the average 90 head per day each. The 
sheep are gathered near the shearing pens and 
floor, and 3,000 or 4,000 of them are penned in 
the enclosure shown at the upper right-hand 
pen in the engraving; from this they are driven, 
about 700 or 800 at a time, into the smaller pen 
in front of it. From this smaller pen the sheep 
pass through a gate-way into the passage, and the 
smaller pens connected with it to the left, and 
in front of this row of smaller pens, is the shear¬ 
ing floor. The shearers take the sheep, one at 
a time, from these small pens, and after remov¬ 
ing the fleeces, turn them loose, when they go 
back to the pens again. This is continued until 
all the sheep in the pens are shorn, when the 
gate at the further end of the passage on the 
left is opened, and the shorn sheep allowed 
to escape into the large pen at the left of 
the rear. As each fleece is shorn, the shearer 
brings it to one of the tables in front, where it 
is taken and examined by one of the foremen, 
who hands to the shearer in exchange a tin 
check stamped with the owner’s name. At the 
close of the day these checks are redeemed at 
the rate agreed upon, which is generally about 
six cents for each fleece. The foreman hands 
the fleece to a man at one of the wool tables on 
either hand, who ties it up with twine into a 
compact bundle. As soon as the fleeces are 
tied up, they are tossed to the men on the plat¬ 
form, who pack them away in the wool sacks. 
These are suspended in the platform through a 
round trap-hole by means of an iron ring a 
little larger than the hole, and to which the 
open end of the sack is sewn. When the sack 
is full it is dropped on to a gangway below, 
where it is closed up and wheeled out upon a 
truck to the platform scales, weighed, and 
marked with the weight, and the name of the 
owner. The bales are then ready for shipment 
to market. The wdiole cost of shearing in this 
manner is about 10 cents per fleece. 
■ ■ ■ n -—■ 
Our Native Coral-Plant. 
The Brazilian Coral-Plant is not rare in con¬ 
servatories, and is often planted out in gardens, 
where its large clusters of crimson flowers 
make a brilliant show. This is Erytlirina Cris- 
ta-galli, and is generally sold by florists under 
that name or as the Coral Plant. It is easily 
managed, by keeping its big chump of a stem, 
in a dry cellar in winter, and setting it out in 
the spring, as one would a dahlia root. There 
are several other Erythrinas (the name being 
from the Greek word for red), one of which is 
found in this country from North Carolina 
southward. Probably every one recollects his 
first meeting with a striking plant, and though 
we have seen this many times since, its ac¬ 
quaintance was first made under peculiar sur¬ 
roundings. Twenty-five years ago this month 
the writer was going down through the state 
of Sonora, Mexico, in charge of a government 
train; we traveled along very smoothly until we 
came to what is known as Gaudaloupe Pass, 
where one could look down on a sea of moun¬ 
tain tops, and down which our wagons had to 
go. The descent was about 1,000 feet, and for 
