1870.J 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
95 
more frequently, and we could keep considera¬ 
ble stock besides. 
“ But will it pay to keep sheep with wool at 
40 cents per lb. ?” It will pay better to feed the 
clover to sheep than to plow it under ; for the 
pasture in this case costs you nothing, and now 
that we have such admirable mowing machines, 
rakes, and unloading forks, we can put a ton of 
hay in the barn (if it is a good crop) for less than 
we can plow under an acre of clover. I have 
heard farmers recommend plowing under clover 
for manure, and at the same time undertake to 
show that we cannot afford to keep stock with 
bay worth $25 per ton! Can we any belter 
afford to plow it under, seeing that the drop¬ 
pings from the sheep are worth nearly or quite 
as much as the clover for manure ? 
I think I could keep good Merino sheep, not 
bred too much to grease, with profit on my 
farm. The trouble now, is, that many farmers 
keep their sheep on a starvation ration. They 
let the flock take care of itself—pasture them 
on the highways and fallows in summer, and let 
them eat at a straw stack in winter. They get 
one lamb from two ewes, keep their wethers 
until three years old and then sell them for 
$1.50 or $2.00. Of course this will not pay. 
But let a farmer select a flock of strong, healthy, 
good bodied Merino sheep, and give them good 
food, and the necessary attention, and they will 
pay even at present prices of wool and mutton. 
At any rate, they will pay as well as growing 
wheat at $1.25 per bushel, and better than cows 
that only give 90 lbs. of butter a year, or four- 
year-old steers that do not weigh 1,000 lbs., and 
sell for 4 cents per lb. Ten Merino wether 
sheep will eat no more than such a steer, and 
will bring as much at four years old, and we 
have two fleeces from each sheep besides. The 
steer brings in $40 all told. The ten sheep sell 
for $40, and bring in as much more for wool. 
But it will be said that no good farmer will 
keep such a steer. Neither will any good farm¬ 
er keep such sheep. His wether sheep at this 
age, when well fatted, will weigh 140 lbs., and 
by looking at the market reports, you will see 
that a poor sheep of 70 lbs. sells for 3 cents per 
lb., while a fat one of 140 lbs. is worth 9 cts. Ten 
of the former bring $21; ten of the latter $12G ! 
Nothing is more certain than that the demand 
for good mutton will continue to increase for 
many years. "We are the greatest beef eaters in 
the world, but as yet we scarcely know the taste 
of good mutton. During the past twenty-five 
years there has been a wonderful improvement 
in the quality of our beef, but the great bulk of 
our mutton, so far as my observation extends, is 
not as good to day, as it was twenty years ago. 
This will not do. Farmers are now convinced, 
I think, that they must keep more stock, and 
they are anxiously considering whether to keep 
sheep or cows. At present, cows pay better than 
sheep, but they require more attention. A farm¬ 
er who has dry land, remote from market, and 
who has to depend principally on hired help, 
will probably find sheep more profitable than 
cows; and this is especially the case on grain 
growing farms. But there is no profit in keep¬ 
ing either cattle, cows, or sheep, unless they are 
kept well. Merino sheep will pay if they are 
kept steadily improving every day. They do not 
require high feeding, but they should at all times 
have as much food as they can eat. No one 
will dispute this remark, and yet I question, if 
there is one Merino flock in a hundred, that is 
not starved more or less during some periods of 
every year. Let no such farmer think he will 
gad dairying more profitable than sheep, unless 
lie adopts a more rational and humane system 
of feeding. Let him not think that he will 
make more money by keeping Long-wooled 
mutton sheep. The trouble is not in the breed 
but in the breeder. Cotswold, Leicester or 
Southdown sheep are capable of affording as 
much more profit compared with common 
Merino sheep, as Shorthorns and Devons are, 
compared with common cattle. But they must 
have good care and feed. John Johnston writes 
me : “ I am almost sure that if you would keep 
80 or 100 breeding ewes of the Long-wools, you 
would make a lot of money.” This is certainly 
complimentary, so far; but after all, he is only 
“ almost sure.” He has still a latent doubt as to 
how far an agricultural editor will give them 
the necessary attention. But he should recol¬ 
lect that he himself has written more than al¬ 
most any other farmer in the United States; and 
it follows consequently that a man who studies 
agricultural''subjects and writes about them, is 
not necessarily incapable of attending to his 
farm and his stock. 
A farmer in New England objects to what I 
said about drawing out manure in winter. He 
prefers to pile it and let it get thoroughly rotted 
before applying it to the land. So do I. But 
labor is so high and so uncertain, that I prefer 
to draw out manure when we have leisure, 
whether it is or is not tffe best time for securing 
the greatest benefit from it3 application. On 
land subject to floods, of course, it would be 
unwise to spread manure in winter. And on very 
steep hillsides the rain might wash out much of 
the goodness of the manure, and carry it off from 
the land. But, on ordinary, Jevel land, there is 
less danger from this source than one might im¬ 
agine who has not looked into the matter. The 
soil, especially if in grass, will absorb the rain 
and melting snow, and with it all the soluble 
matter washed out of the manure. Where land 
is underdrained, this is certainly the case. And 
there is.no way of applying manure better than 
in the liquid form. When manure is spread 
out on grass land in winter, the best portions of 
it will be washed out and carried into the land 
distributed through, the soil in such a way as to 
be readily taken up by the roots of the grass. 
The portion left on the surface will serve as a 
protection from the cold winds of spring, and 
the grass will start earlier and grow more vigor¬ 
ously. And it will also act as a mulch in summer. 
I said, I preferred to pile the manure rather 
than to draw it out fresh as made during the 
winter. The reason is, simply because I use a 
great deal of straw, and when manure is piled, 
it is reduced more than half in bulk by fermen¬ 
tation, and at the same time its plant-food is 
rendered more soluble. And when we use so 
much straw, there is not the slightest danger of 
losing ammonia by fermentation. The acids 
produced from the fermenting straw, will hold 
all the ammonia formed in the heap. This 
spring, if bone-dust can be obtained at reasona- 
able rates, I propose to pile my sheep manure, 
whicli contains a large amount of straw, and 
mix bone-dust with it. Put a layer of manure, 
say a foot thick, at the bottom, and then spread 
bone-dust over it at the rate, say of 50 lbs., to 
each ton of manure. Then put on another lay¬ 
er of manure, and spread the bone-dust over it, 
and so on until the heap is finished. If a few 
loads of muck or soil are put on top, it will be 
all the better. The bone-dust will greatly ac¬ 
celerate the fermentation of the manure and de¬ 
compose the straw, and the acids, produced 
from the decaying straw, will hold the ammonia 
formed from the organic matter of the boues, 
and prevent its escape. The bones will be soft¬ 
ened and disintegrated, and rendered much 
more soluble, than if applied directly to the 
soil. If this work is done in March, and the 
heap is turned two or three times, the manure 
will be in capital condition to apply to root 
crops in May or June. But if not needed for 
these, it will not injure any crop to which it 
may be applied. If you want to see cabbage 
and cauliflowers grow, dig in a liberal allowance 
of this manure, and sprinkle a teaspoonful of 
superphosphate in the hole when the plants are 
set out, and then keep the ground thoroughly 
cultivated and hoed. Put a little of it in the 
celery trenches, and mix it with rich surface 
soil. If your evergreens on the lawn look yel¬ 
low, fork in a barrowful of it around each one, 
and if it injures them, let me know. Those 
forlorn looking currant bushes would be grate¬ 
ful for a few shovelfuls. If you want some 
good melons, put a wheel-barrowful of this ma¬ 
nure, hot from the heap, under each hill; cover 
it with some rich soil, and sprinkle on it a tea- 
spoonful of superphosphate. Then plants, es¬ 
pecially if protected for a week or two with a 
box covered with glass, will not know that they 
are in a “farmer’s garden;”—they will think 
they are enjoying the care of some intelligent 
mechanic or professional man in the village 
or city, and grow accordingly. If any of the 
manure is left, spread it on the meadows, or 
grass land, whenever it is most convenient. 
“ Why do you speak of a hog as a pig ?” 
writes a critical friend. “You might as well 
speak of a cow as a calf, or a sheep as a lamb. 
A pigis simply a young member of the hog fami¬ 
ly. (See Dictionary.)”—What do the Diction¬ 
aries know about pigs? I have no particular 
fancy for the word hog, and the term is entirely 
unnecessary. A good farmer never keeps 
“ hogs.” He may have breeding sows old enough 
to be termed hogs, but his fattening stock is 
sometimes in the pork barrel at an earlier age 
than the wild hog weans her young. 
Sometime since I read a letter in an agricul¬ 
tural paper from a farmer in Tennessee, who 
had such a fine litter of pigs that he thought 
their weights ought to be given to the public. 
They were not quite four years old, and aver¬ 
aged over 250 lbs. each. Those were hogs. But 
as long as my pigs will weigh more than that 
at eight or nine months, I do not propose to 
offer them the indignity of speaking of them as 
hogs. I do not know at what particular period 
in his history a pig ceases to be a pig and be¬ 
comes a hog. A sheep is a lamb until it is a 
year old, even though it weighs 150 lbs. Mr. 
Sheldon’s Shorthorn that weigh d 1,200 lbs. be¬ 
fore it was a year old, would be called a calf. 
It is so with pigs. Our modern breeds are 
larger, or at least heavier, at six months, 
than many of the old-fashioned “hogs” were, 
at two years. Since these improvements in the 
early maturity and fattening qualities of the 
breeds of swine have taken place, all the Eng¬ 
lish agricultural writers have dropped the term 
hog. In England, it is “Youatt on the Pig,” 
not “Youatt on the Hog,” as the American edi¬ 
tor styles the book. Richardson wrote of lire 
pig, not of the hog; and so does Darwin in his 
recent scientific work on “Animals and Plants 
under Domestication.” I do not think lie once 
uses the rvord hog, as applied to the domestic 
pig, in the whole book; and he certainly will 
be regarded as good authority. 
Dr. Johnson, in his Dictionary, gives the fol¬ 
lowing definition : “Swine. A hog; a pig. A 
creature remarkable for stupidity and nastiness,” 
