1866.1 
AMEKICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
19 
Whenever I expect a visit from him, I am careful 
to have my cows all in the barns. 
He lectured me a few weeks ago, for feeding corn 
in the ear. “ But it is soft corn,” I remarked “ in ex-, 
cuse.” “No matter,” he said, “ keep it a few weeks, 
when it will dry, and then you cap shell and grind 
it. Do not I beseech you fall into this miserable 
habit of feeding grain whole. You lose one-third 
its value.” I believe he is right; it had never oc¬ 
curred to me that I could shell and grind the soft 
corn, but on trying to shell it I found no difficulty. 
There may an ear occasionally that will not 'shell 
clean, but I am satisfied that nine-tenths oYwhat is 
ordinarily termed “ soft corn” if kept in a good 
airy corn house, or even a crib of rails, fora month 
or six weeks, can be shelled and ground. It is less 
trouble to throw it by the basketful to the pigs, 
and in parts of the West where corn is cheap the 
practice may not be so objectionable, but in this 
section W'e cannot afibrd to waste grain merely to 
save a little labor and forethought. 
But I-was going to tell you about the Doctor’s 
system of feeding his cows. He buys a new milch 
cow every spring, and keeps her two years. She 
will give milk all the time, and when he turns her 
oflT, she is fit for the butcher and commands a high 
price. But this is not all; he gets the richest of 
milk and a good deal of it. “ I tell you, it pa 3 's,” 
he said the other day, “to feed well. It requires a 
certain amount of food to support the animal, and 
the milk and butter is obtained from the food given 
in excess of this amount. To give only just enough 
to keep the cow alive is of course absurd, as j'ou 
would get no return at all for the food. It would - 
all be consumed to keep up the animal heat and the 
vital functions. Now .as the milk is derived from 
the extra food, the more you can get the cow to 
eat and digest, the more profitable will she prove.” 
The Doctor got this argument in favor of .high 
feeding from me. It is one of my pet ideas, but I 
did not interrupt him. “ You know,” he continu¬ 
ed, “I have a large family.” “Of course,” I said, 
“all eleiygmen have.” “Well,” he continued, 
“ we not onlj' get all ^he butter and milk we need 
from these two cows, but we are still packing down 
butter every week.” 
On a farm we cannot, perhaps, adopt the system 
of keeping farrow cows. But in the cities it has 
many advantages, not the least of which is that 
J'OU are sure of milk all the year round. When we 
lived in the city, we had a cow (a thorough bred 
Devon) that gave milk winter and summer for five 
years in succession. She did not give much, but all 
that we needed, and it was very rich. She finally 
got so fat that, though still giving milk, I sold her 
to the butcher. But one thing is true of city and 
country: it pays to feed cows all the food that 
they can turn into butter. 
I need a Boot Cellar, adjoining my basement 
cattle stable. It is almost impossible to get along 
without one, and farm to advantage. I am fully 
convinced that we must raise more succulent food, 
either cabbage, mangold wurzel, sugar beets, ruta¬ 
bagas, or turnips, for our stock in winter; but this 
system cannot be adopted without a good cellar to 
store them in, so arranged that they can be fed out 
with-little labor. 
Our hens are on a “ strike.” They refuse to lay 
a single egg. They have plenty of food, comfortable 
quarters, a good range, and have had the best treat¬ 
ment we know how to give them, and yet they 
persistently refuse to go to work! I have not heard 
a cackle for two months. The grocers are clamorous 
for eggs, and offer the highest prices, but all to no 
pui'pose. If I could ascertain who are the ring¬ 
leaders in the combination, they would soon find 
themselves in hot water. 
A city friend, who keeps a few hens and gets all 
the eggs he wants, suggests th.at probably my hens 
are too fat, and that they do not .get flesh meat. 
He had a self-regulating feeding trough, but gave it 
up as he thought his hens got too much grain. He 
now feeds them less grain and gives them sheep’s 
pluck, which he gets for a trifle from the butchers, 
and the hens lay every day. He puts the plucks in 
boiling water to coagulate the blood, and then chops 
them up fine, and the hens eat them with a relish. 
Last spring I cut an nnderdrain through a wet 
portion of a field. There is high ground on each 
side of it. This fall I found the land on each side 
of the drain perfectly dry for a rod or more, but 
further up the hill it was quite wet, and this was 
.the ease for several weeks before ihe dram com¬ 
menced to discharge any water I I suppose the reason 
is this : The earth on each side of the drain, last 
spring, as the water left it, cracked into innumer¬ 
able little fissures, and these after the rains came 
in the fall, absorbed the water like a sponge, to the 
depth of the drain, say three feet. So the sur¬ 
face was perfectly dry, even though no water run 
into the drain.—In the spring I shall carry some 
lateral drains up the sides of the hill, for I am satis¬ 
fied that the high land, on my farm at least, needs 
draining more than the v.alleys. If the side hills 
were thoroughly underdrained, the low land would 
need little more than a few main drains. 
My friend G. 'W. takes me to task for asserting 
that good prices of farm produce stimulate agricul¬ 
tural improvements. “ Did you ever,” he asks, 
“ know a farmer, other than an amateur, who in¬ 
vested his profits in making improvements on his 
farm?” Yes I have. Last spring I thought of 
building a shed on the west side of the barn-yard, 
with a loft for fodder. I thought it would not only 
be useful in itself, but would protect the barn yard 
from our severe west winds. One of my neighbors 
has one twenty-two feet wide, with an alley in front 
for feeding cows, which are fastened up with 
stanchions. It is boarded up on both sides and is 
therefore not properly a shed. I thought of build¬ 
ing merely an open shed, as I have an idea that 
cattle do better when not so closely confined, pro¬ 
vided you have a warm, comfortable yard. I went 
to see our old friend John Johnston and consulted 
him on the subject, i told him I thought of build¬ 
ing a shed twenty-four feet wide. “ Don’t you do 
it,” he quickly replied. “ Never build a shed less 
than forty feet wide. It is a great mistake. Nar¬ 
row sheds are little use. The rain frequently 
drives in eight or ten feet, and the master-cattle 
stand on the far side, where it is warm, and keep 
the rest out in the cold. Many years ago, I built 
some sheds twenty feet wide, but I did not like 
them. Three or four years afterwards I happened 
to have a good wheat-crop and sold it pretty well, so 
I pulled down these sheds and built new ones 
thirty-two feet wide. If I had to do it again, I 
would build them forty feet. Mr. Swan built his 
forty feet and they are splendid.” 
The good wheat crop and the good prices .built 
the sheds ; and these sheds have sheltered some of 
the best flocks of fat sheep .that ever graced the 
New York market. The sheep made rich manure, 
and the manure made big crops of wheat, and the 
sheep and the wheat together have made Mr. John- 
8to,n rich—without making any one poorer. 
I did not build the shed, ilfy wheat crop “hap¬ 
pened ” not to be very good, and besides I thought 
th.at if it needed to be forty feet avide, I had better 
build a barn with a good shed under it. This I 
shall do after my land is drained, and I have had 
two or three of John Johnston’s avheat crops. I 
am looking forward with much interest to the 
publication of the best pl.an of a barn, for avhich 
such a liberal-prize avas offered in the Agriculturist. 
I understand that a great many excellent 2 al.ansh.ave 
been sent in, and I hope ave shall get not only the 
Prize plan, but sever.al of the others, and then ave 
can all judge for ourselves avhich lalauis best suited 
to our particular situation and avants. 
But after all, avhat most of us are interested in is, 
not what is the best kind of barn to build, but hoav 
ave can alter, improve or add to the buildings ave 
already have. When I bou.ght this farm, there 
were but tavo small barns on it, one for grain, avith 
a cattle cellar underneath, and one venerable but 
not very picturesque institution standing on the 
side of the road, designed for horses. It is very 
convenient for posting bills of Auction Sales, and 
there is a pump close hy that is liberally patronized. 
The horse litter is thrown out over a fence into the 
field and forms a loose, smoking, conical hea 23 of 
broavn matter that is a favorite resort for chickens, 
and avhich gives off ammoniacal gases that I hope 
descend on the Deacon’s land near by. 
■ The pig pen avas at one corner of the barn-yard, 
as far remote as possible from the coav stable, and 
still further from the sheep sheds. Now, j'ou know, 
pigs eat corn and drink milk, and they extract from 
these articles a small amount of nitrogen and a 
good deal of carbon which they conamr’t into pork. 
The remainder, comprising nearly all the mineral 
ingredients of the corn and about four-fifths, of the 
nitrogen, with more or less water, is left in a finely 
comminuted state and affords excellent pabulum for 
cabbages and onions. Well, this material was 
thrown out, like the horse litter, into a heap by it¬ 
self, but it is of a cold and sluggish temperament 
and does not give off any ammonia for the Deacon’s 
use. It is not lost, hoavever. There is consider-' 
able water which finds its way into this particular 
corner of the barn-j-ard, and after staying a few 
days, and lo.ading itself with whatever is soluble, 
wends its way slowly to the brook, and so on to 
the Genesee river and Lake Ontario, and comes 
b.ack to us in the shape of a nice pickerel! 
Now the Deacon is .an excellent neighbor, and 
• pickerel are quite toothsome, but my land needs 
ammonia as much as the Deacon’s, and it is by no 
means certain that the pickerel, will not fall into 
other hands than mine. 
To prevent this esc.ape of ammonia and the loss 
of soluble ingredients is of the first importance. 
It can be accomplished avith little trouble. The 
first requisite is to have all the buildings together. 
In the grain districts, avhere straav is abundant, it 
is to my opinion better to have them arranged on 
three sides of a barn-yard, rather than to have 
grain barn, horse and cow stables, pig pens, etc., 
all in one building. A barn-yard surrounded with 
buildings and sheds on the West, North, and East, 
and open only to the South, or if more convenient 
to the South-East, is a pleasant place to avinter 
young stock, store pigs, etc. The centre should be 
concave, and round this holloav there should be a 
road, in front of the buildings, wide enough to 
drive a av.agon. This should be dry and firm. The 
dirt taken out from the centre can usually be dis¬ 
posed of to .adv.antage in raising this road and level¬ 
ling any inequalities. It should slope a little from 
the buildings towards the centre, so that the water 
can run off readily*. ' This is verj' important. 
Nothing is so unpleasant as a wet barn-yard, where 
you cannot go from one building to another with¬ 
out getting ankle-dee25 in mud. A man with a 
plow, a dirt scr.aper, and a pair of horses, can soon 
do all that is necessary ; of course the side towards 
the gate, where the manure is drawn out, should 
have only a gentle slope. 
Into this hollow, or as it is called in some sec¬ 
tions of England, the “ mixer,” all the manure 
should be thrown and mixed together. This is the 
essential jjoint. Pig manure is cold and sluggish, 
and cow dung does not ferment readily, while horse 
litter and sheep droppings are very active. But in 
the c.ase of the latter the treading of the sheep 
prevents any serious loss from too rapid fermenta¬ 
tion ; but a loose heap of horse manure will soon 
lose half its v.alue. Let all be mixed together and 
there will be no loss of ammoni.a. 
The loss from drainage is much more s.erious 
than is generally supposed—far greater than from 
the escape of ammonia. The buildings should be all 
spouted to carry off the water. Then, if ave haa'e 
"Wide sheds, and the barn-yard is not too Large, the 
manure will absorb all the liquid and the little r.ain 
which falls on the surface. But it is better to have 
a tank in which .any excess of liquid there may be 
after 'heavy rains, can bo preserved, and pumped 
back when the heap is dry. This is the simplest, 
the cheapest, and the best method of saving ma* 
nure I have ever seen. 
