58 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
[February, 
Soiling Sheep. 
A “ Virginia Correspondent ” asks if it would 
not be practicable to soil sheep in yards much 
in the same manner as is done with cattle—to 
carry the food to them, and feed it in racks; 
as thus they may be made to serve as manure 
makers, and at the same time be protected from 
the dogs, which are so numerous as to prevent 
keeping sheep in fields. In such a case as this 
it is very probable that sheep might be kept as 
proposed, but it would be much less economi¬ 
cal than to hurdle them in the fields. If hurdling 
is impossible, the next best thing is to keep 
them in yards near the barn. It has some¬ 
times been done to prevent the trouble and ex¬ 
pense of continually watching the sheep in the 
Fig. 2.—PLAN OP SHEEP-YARD. 
field. The arrangement is as follows: A 
green paddock of about an acre is fenced and 
divided into four parts, as shown in the ac¬ 
companying illustrations. A partly open shed 
with feed-racks all around it is placed in the 
center. For 50 sheep a building 20 feet square 
is amply large. A door from each quarter of the 
paddock opens into this shed. As one quarter is 
used, the doors opening to the others are closed. 
Fig. 2 shows the yards with the shed in the 
center. The outer gates are at a, opening into 
the lane. The gates 
b, b , lead into the 
rear quarters. The 
doors of the shed are 
at c, c. Fig. 3 shows 
the plan of the shed 
with the feed- 
troughs. Fig. 1 (on 
the preceding page) 
Fig. 4.— dog-guard. gives the elevation of 
the shed, with a large double doorway closed by 
half-doors, and open at the top. There are 
also large open windows, so that the shed is 
airy. There is no water in the yards, and this 
we believe to be the best plan, as the yards are 
kept dry, and it necessitates at least so much 
exercise as will be derived from driving the 
sheep to water twice a day. The change of 
yards is needed to 
keep them dry and 
free from mud in 
wet weather. The 
crops that may be 
usefully fed in such 
a yard are rye, 
clover, grass, rape, 
mustard, peas and 
oats, barley and 
tares, turnips, or 
any others that are used when sheep are fenced 
by hurdles. A dog guard may be made by 
fastening projecting pickets, either ho. izoutally 
or upright, and running two fence-wires 
through them. Figs. 4 and 5 show how these 
may be made. In such case the pickets are 
nailed to the fence-posts. 
Tim Bunker on Hookertown Views of 
Mutton. 
“It’ll keep a month,” said Seth Twiggs, as he 
took his seat on the sill of the Meeting-house shed, 
crossed his legs, clasped hands over one knee, 
and blew that long puiT of smoke that indicates a 
pipe freshly lighted ; “ and that is a strong pint in 
any kind of meat in these days, when you have to 
pay two prices for everything you get out of the 
butcher’s cart. In old times, you see, you could 
keep yerself in meat all winter by changing round a 
little when you butchered. But now every thing 
uoes to this market, and every feller has to look out 
for himself.” 
“And they du it tew,” said Jake Frink, “ every 
time. Not much chance for a feller in this world, 
unless he’s extra smart ”- 
“ Aud lets licker alone,” added George Washing¬ 
ton Tucker, whose breath was perfumed with the 
odors of the only rum hole not yet cleaned out of 
Hookertown. “ Not even cheap mutton can help a 
man w'*o drinks.” 
“ The man lies that says I’ve spiled a quarter of 
the licker you have,” said Jake indignantly. 
“Then again,” said Seth, who was not to be 
switched off from the main subject by the mild pal¬ 
aver of his neighbors, “ as Mr. Spooner would say, 
mutton is the best meat in the world, and the 
cheapest. You see them grades have run in my 
brush pasture all summer, and I don’t believe the 
flesh they have laid on has cost me a cent a pound, 
for the pasture war’nt worth much anyway. Just 
kill a wether in December, and hang him up in the 
shop, and you can cut chops off of him a whole 
month, certain, and I guess all winter. My mutton 
allers gits eaten up so quick, that I never have a 
chance to know how long it would keep.” 
“ Get a bigger kind of sheep,” said Dea. Smith, 
“ and you will have a chance to know. There is 
some difference between a skrimpy Merino that 
won’t cut ten-pound to the quarter, and a Cotswold 
grade that will weigh twenty-five-pound to the 
quarter and upwards. Hang up such a carcass, and 
you could have roast as well as chops all winter.” 
“I shouldn’t wonder if you’re right, neighbor,” 
said Seth, musing between the puffs. “Where 
grass don’t cost much, you may as well have a big 
sheep as a little one, and mutton is alout the same 
thing, greater or less.” 
“ You are mistaken there,” said the Deacon— 
“ South-Down mutton, well fed, is much better eat¬ 
ing than any of your small breeds. The Cotswold 
cross enlarges the carcass, and puts a little more 
fat into the rather lean South-Down meat. The 
lambs are larger, and you could send them earlier 
to market, and get a better price. I would not 
have a Merino sheep on my farm.” 
“ The wool is fine,” suggested Seth. 
“1 know,” said the Deacon, “but there is next 
to nothing of it—and there is not such a difference 
I between very fine aud middle wools as there used 
( to be. There is a good market for all the wool you 
I can get from South-Down grades, and there is like- 
[ ly to be so long as woolen goods are used.” 
“And sheep are great on cleaning up brush pas- 
i tures,” said Jake Frink, who seemed to appreciate 
! them chiefly as labor-saving machines. “ You see 
I have not used a bush-scythe in my pasture for 
, twenty years.” 
“You might say forty,” said Tucker, “and no 
man would dispute you—guess there ain’t such an 
article among your kit of tools.” 
“It’s rusty, I’ll allow,” said Jake, “you see, the 
sheep have done the grubbing mostly, and a man 
don’t like to waste any elbow grease.” 
This conversation of my neighbors at the fall fair 
on Hookertown Green, shows the drift of public 
sentiment on the sheep question. The fact is, we 
i want more sheep—your wife wants them, and your 
children want them, and we must have them. The 
old cry of dogs will not do for this Commonwealth, 
for we have a dog law that keeps the curs under. 
They are roundly taxed, and if a sheep owner loses 
a sheep by dogs, he can present his bill to the Se¬ 
lect Men, and get something like the value of those 
destroyed. This is fair, and, on the whole, fosters 
sheep husbandry. We cannot have any kind of 
stock without encountering some enemies—and 
running some risks. Dogs are not half so danger¬ 
ous to sheep as skunks and weasels are to poultry. 
And yet we contrive to raise a respectable amount 
of chickens, ducks, turkeys, geese, and eggs, on al¬ 
most every farm, and these little items help to 
swell the farmer’s profits. The wool is a secondary 
matter, whether it be long or short, coarse or fine. 
We want sheep mainly for tlieir flesh. It is a whole¬ 
some, well-flavored meat, and the dressing can be 
eauly managed by the farmer himself, and with a 
little corning in summer, and none in wdnter, the 
carcass is readily disposed of. Farmers ought to 
eat more fresh meat, and would do so if the} 7 raised 
it upon their own farms. There is not so much 
temptation to sell mutton as there is poultry, for it 
only brings about half the price. It probably goes 
quite as far in sustaining muscle. Then sheep as 
fertilizers of the soil are invaluable, a point not 
touched upon by my neighbors. Any pasture where 
they run is constantly improving in its capacity to 
yield grass. Brush dies out under the constant 
cropping, w'eeds disappear, and the green smooth 
sod remains, and grows ranker each year. This ad¬ 
vantage is so great, that some very close observers 
say, the keeping of sheep costs the farm nothing. 
This is so. Then what we eat and sell from the 
flock is clear gain. Dea. Smith might have told a 
good deal more than he did about Cotswold crosses. 
The fact is, he sells lambs from South-Downgrades 
by a Cotswold ram, that bring him on an average 
nine to ten dollars each, every summer. And they 
are all turned off in the early part of the season, 
while there is flush feed in the pasture. Then the 
wool from the old sheep is an important item. It 
averages about fifty cents a pound, and the fleeces 
are large. The fact is, the Deacon ciphers close, 
and I have watched him so close for so many years, 
that I am prepared to “go it blind ” on any thing 
that he concludes to crop his farm with. I am ful¬ 
ly persuaded that if any thing did not pay, he would 
find it out as soon as the next man. I have tried 
sheep, and know they pay better than most other 
stock we keep on our farms. Connecticut might 
quadruple its sheep with profit next year. Let us 
have more mutton-chops and less pork. 
Hookertown , Ct., I Yours to command, 
Jan. 1st, 1875. ( Timothy Bunkbb, Esq. 
Evergreen Trees from Cuttings. 
The letters received, asking about growing Even 
greens from cuttings, were referred to our cor¬ 
respondent at “ The Pines,” whose reply was in¬ 
cluded in the “Notes” sent last month, but 
were crowded out. He wrote: “I have been 
putting in quite a lot of cuttings of Evergreens, 
i and I think if it were known how readily some 
evergreens were raised from cuttings, many more 
would grow them. I say some evergreens, as not 
