[Maech, 
BO 
AMERICAN AORICULTURIST. 
El lidzc!! (’.ifl'cri'n! n:inies. The general appear- 
;,ncf dl'UiiE plant is sho>\vn in fig. 7. The root 
is pereiiEiiEil, Etiu! throws off numerous and long 
creeping root stocks, which enable it to form a 
dense m;iUed turf, and also serve to distinguish 
it from tlie nearly rehrted Rough Meadow grass 
[roa trivial is). The lesives are quite narrow, but 
their luxuriance varies greatly with the soil in 
which they grow. The stems are from 1 to 3 
feet liigh, slender, smooth, and round. This 
cylindrical form of the stem serves to distinguish 
this from another species often cal¬ 
led Blue grass, Poa compressa, which 
has a stem so strongly flattened as 
to be at once recognized. The 
form of the panicle, or flower clus¬ 
ter, is shown in fig. 7. Its branches, 
however, are often five or seven 
from the same point. Thespikelets 
are one-twelfth to one-sixth of an 
inch long, tliree to five-flowered, 
and of the shape of the magnified 
one shown in fig. 8. The palea. Fig. 8—blue 
in common witli man}'related gras- gkass. 
ses, has a tuft of cobweb-like hairs at the base. 
In addition to the names for this grass above 
quoted, an intelligent Rhode Island correspon¬ 
dent stales, in last month’s paper, that he has 
satisfied himself that this is the grass known as 
Rhode Island Bent, a name which has usually 
been considered as a synonv^, of Red-top. This 
is a viiluable grsiss, auo, on account of the 
dense turf it make',, is especiiilly adapted for 
lawns. But our remarks on the agricultunrl 
value of this, as well as of Orchard Grass, must 
be reserved for another article. 
I-0-0 
h. Convenient Portable Swill-Barrel. 
The accompanying illustration represents a 
Portable Swill-Barrel, evenly balanced on a 
pair of light wheels, which ought to be about 3 
feet in diameter. The spokes and fellies of the 
wheels should be made of the best timber, in 
order to secure great strength and lightness. 
Dress out a stick of tough wood for an axletree, 
about 2 inches square, and make an axle-arm 
on each end of it, to fit the wheels. The length 
of the main part of the axletree, between the 
wheels, should be about 30 inches. Make a 
square mortise through two opposite sides of 
the barrel, just large enough to receive the axle- 
tree. Let the w’ork be done neatly, so as to 
secure a good fit, and calk the cracks with tow, 
or with the strands of a rope picked to pieces. 
Two straight sticks for thills, with a cross-piece 
connecting the forward ends, are bolted to the 
axletree with small carriage bolts. The axle- 
? tree should pass through the barrel, a little be¬ 
low the bilge, provided the wheels are high 
enough to swing it clesir from the ground. 
The advantages of such a portable swill- 
barrel will be readily appreciated by every one 
W'ho desires to keep the offensive odor, which 
always arises from the piggery, at a distance 
from the dwelling house. The barrel, wheeled to 
the door of the kitchen, may receive the swill, 
and can then be trundled back to the piggery. 
Thus M'e dispense with all the disagreeable 
handling and spilling of swill, unavoidable 
when a sw'ill-barrel is stationary and the swill 
is carried in pails from the kitchen to the sty. 
Another very important consideration is, that 
if !in inclined plane be made for the wheels to 
run upon, the contents of the barrel may be 
poured directly into another barrel, or into the 
feeding trough, by simply elevating the shafts 
so as to turn the barrel over backwards. A 
barrel maybe supported on wheels in.this man¬ 
ner, for the purpose of carrying water to stock 
of any kind, or for any other purpose where it 
is usual to carry water, liquid manure, etc., in 
pails. A lid should fit the top of the barrel 
closely, to keep the liquid from slopping over. 
Tim Bunker’s Raid Among tke Pickle 
Patekes.— {Concluded from page 4G.) 
Mr. Editor. —I began to give you some ac¬ 
count last month about the way Noadiah Tubbs 
raised pickles up in 'Westchester County. I 
W'anted your readers to hear him out, for when 
you get an old farmer to talking on a subject 
that he feels at home in, he ahvays has some¬ 
thing to say w'orth hearing. Daniel Webster 
learned something about growing turnips from 
the farmers of Old England, and a very plain 
boatman taught him in codfishing. Diah’s mor¬ 
als don’t exactly square with ray notions, but I 
am willing to own that he knows more than I 
do about raising pickles. So you may just im¬ 
agine that he sits there cocked up in his flag- 
bottomed chair in the corner, squirting tobacco 
juice into the sanded spit box and “pickle ed- 
dication ” into Tim Bunker. 
“I wonder you don’t cultivate your crop 
more, wdiat is the reason ?” . 
“ Wal,” said Diah, “ There’s two or three rea¬ 
sons. You see, you don’t plow the ground till 
the weediest part of the season is over, about 
July 1st. Then the cultivating comes along the 
last of the month, and before it is time to culti¬ 
vate agin, the vines are in the way. And be¬ 
sides I allers sow turnips at the time of cultiva¬ 
ting, to take the ground when the vines have 
done bearing. And in this way I often get a 
half crop of turnips and kill two birds w’ith one 
stone, if not more; for the turnips take the 
place of w'eeds, don’t tax the ground any more 
and are a great deal better for the cattle.” 
“ I hadn’t thought of that, I declare. When 
do you begin to pick pickles ?” 
“ It won’t vary much from six weeks from the 
time of plantin.” 
“ And how long does the season last ?” 
“ It will hold on for six weeks or more, until 
frost comes sometimes.” 
“What do you do to keep the bugs off? I am al¬ 
ways pestered to death with bugs on my vines.” 
“ That is pretty easily managed where you 
have so many vines. Bugs might easily eat up 
a dozen hills in a garden w'here they w’ould 
more’n have their mouths full in a two acre lot. 
I generally sprinkle on a little plaster as soon 
as they get up in sight, and if this don’t stop 
the bugs I go over them once or twice more. 
The plaster is good manure for ’em any way, 
and I s’pose a pinch of guaner in it would 
be better still. If I had hen manure plenty I 
should jest as lives have that. I calculate to 
keep the vines growing so fast that the bugs 
can’t catch ’em.” 
“That’s a good idea. I s’posc that accounts 
for the fact that we don’t see so many vines de¬ 
stroyed in w'et seasons as in dry. I never thought 
of that before. Now I should like to know a 
little about marketing the jiickles, and as fEittn 
apples are gittin rather low I’ll let you rest.” 
“ I ginerally rqake a market for ’em with some 
pickle maker in the city or over on North river. 
He agrees to take ’em delivered at the depot at 
so much a thousand—assorted in barrels. We 
make three sizes. The big ones sire for eating 
fresh, and I s’pose are sold in market by the 
pickle men for that purpose. The other two 
sizes are just the thing for pickles and go the 
factory. These are the fellers you see in jars 
in all the corner grocery stores. We pick all 
sizes together, and carry them to some conve¬ 
nient place under a shed, at the edge of tlu! 
pickle patch, and there they are sorted and put 
in barrels and sent off to market.” 
“How often do you have to pick ’em?” 
“ Every other day is the rule. But sometimes 
a rainy day comes and stops the picking, which 
makes trouble. The pickles git a great deal 
bigger and it takes about a third more barrels 
to hold ’em, and you don’t git anything extra 
for your trouble. Some folks stop for Sunday, 
but that don’t make any difference with me. 
I never could see but what pickles pick’d Sun¬ 
day brought jest as good money as any other.” 
“ Wal now I don’t believe that suits Esther.” 
“ No it don’t. She and the parson and all the 
children have a ruunin fight with me on that 
subject.” 
“ I guess M’hen you come to foot the bills in 
the final account, you’ll find that all the money 
you’ve made by Sunday work has burnt a hole 
in your pocket aVid dropped out. But how many 
men does it take to attend to a pickle patch ?” 
“ You ought to have at least four to the acre, 
and they’ll have to be pretty smart to keep up 
with the work. It is hard on the back until 
you get used to it. You can work in boys pret¬ 
ty well, as they don’t have so fiir to bend. You 
want to pick one half of the patch one day, and 
the other half the next, and so on.” 
“ Wliat do you make your shed out of?” 
“Most any thing will do for that. Four 
crotched sticks and two poles with rails laid 
across, and buckwheat straw or any refuse hay 
put on to make a cover, and shed rain will 
answer very well.” 
“How many pickles can you raise on an acre ?” 
“Well there is about as much difference in 
pickles as there is in any thing else. Your suc¬ 
cess depends some on good seed, some on ma¬ 
nure, and some on care, and a good deal on luck.” 
“ Just what do you mean by luck ?” 
“ It’s what man hasn’t any thing to do ivith. 
Some would call it the season, and some Prov¬ 
idence. I call it luck.” 
“I guess there is a Providence in the pickle 
crop as in everything else, and if the Almighty 
don’t send rain you’ll come out at the little end 
of the horn.” 
“ Well, it may be so. If every thing works right 
you may calculate on getting about three hun¬ 
dred thousand pickles to the acre. Sometimes 
I have known ’em to get four, but they must 
manure high and have uncommon good luck 
to do that. A good many fall short because 
they don’t understand the business." 
“ About what do you get for your crop taking 
them by the season ?” 
“ I sold them last year for fourteen shillings a 
thousand, but some got as high as two dollars. 
I calculate I got a thousand dollars for my two 
acres, and the expenses were less than four 
hundred, and I had to hire every bit of labor. 
With good management and luck I should say 
a man might clear about three hundred dollars 
to the acre, to say nothing of the turnips which 
come mighty handy.” 
