AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[October, 
374 
disappears beneath the surface ■with great sud¬ 
denness, stays under a long time, and reappears 
in an entirely unexpected direction. It is so ac¬ 
tive as to dodge at the snap of a gun, and be 
safely out of the way before the shot reaches it. 
We have seen a slightly wounded bird quite tire 
out a good sportsman by diving at every shot. 
The Grebes belong to the genus Podiceps; in 
them the tail is represented by a tuft of downy 
feathers, and in the spring the head bears orna¬ 
mental ruffs and crests, the form of which varies 
in the different species. The Crested Grebe, (P. 
cristatus ,) is the nearest one, shown swimming in 
the engraving. It is found from Nova Scotia 
southward, and in the winter is not rare in Tex¬ 
as; it is also found in Washington Territory.— 
The prevailing color of the plumage is brown¬ 
ish-black, with more or less •white upon the 
head, wings, and legs. The crest consists of 
two tufts of elongated feathers, which are green¬ 
ish-black, tinged with green. At the upper part 
of the neck is a large frill, the front portion of 
which is reddish-brown. It is a quick-sighted 
diver, and is very difficult to shoot, though it is 
easily caught by a hook and lino. 
The Horned Grebe, Podiceps cornutus , is rep¬ 
resented in the engraving standing next to the 
Loon. It is only about 14 inches in length, and 
has the same geographical range as the preced¬ 
ing. It has much the same general colors as the 
Crested Grebe, and is readily distinguished by 
its conspicuous tufts of yellowisli-brown feath¬ 
ers over the eye, and the ruff of bluish-black 
ones at the upper part of the neck. The eye of 
the bird is a very striking one, it having a bright 
red iris, with an inner circle of white. We are 
not aware that these grebes have been domesti¬ 
cated ; if they could be,they would form pleasing 
additions to our list of ornamental water fowls. 
Walks and Talks on the Farm—Ho. 82. 
I have just had a visit from an English farm¬ 
er. The Deacon was wonderfully pleased with 
him, and all the more so because he contro¬ 
verted some of my notions about high farming 
and the value of thorough-bred stock. He came 
from Norfolk, and his relatives and neighbors 
are distinguished breeders of Cotswolds and 
other loug-wooled sheep. One of them lias just 
taken several first and second prizes for Cots¬ 
wolds at the Royal Agricultural Fair. Human 
nature is the same everywhere; and I could de¬ 
tect a little feeling of jealousy. “It’s all in the 
name,” he said, “ and in the feeding, and in 
washing with soap and water, and in combing 
out the fleece, and in fixing them up, the sheep, 
for show. Tiiey like to get hold of a Yankee 
to sell to.”—The Deacon gave a quiet laugh. 
“ Then you don’t think it pays an ordinary 
farmer to raise thorough-bred stock,” he said.— 
“ Well,” replied the Englishman, “ we talk that 
matter over a good deal, some think it pays and 
some think it don’t. If they sold all the rams 
that they raise it would pay very well, but they 
have always some that they have to keep over 
and there they arc eating their heads off.”—The 
Deacon gave another quiet laugh. “ It would 
seem then,” I said, “that the English farmers 
do not appreciate the advantage of living in the 
neighborhood of a good breeder any more than 
our farmers here, or they would hire bis thor¬ 
ough-bred rams. I had abetter opinion of their 
intelligence.”—The Deacon saw the point, but 
the Englishman in his anxiety to defend his 
countrymen, replied. “ We do hire them. 
Every breeder has an annual sale or letting, and 
thousands of rams are hired and sold at high 
prices. I hire four or five every year and pay 
about $25 each for the use of them for a season; 
and many farmers pay a great deal more.”— 
“And this, mark you Deacon,” I said, “is paid 
by farmers who merely raise sheep for the butch¬ 
er.”—“ Certainly,” said the Englishman, in hap¬ 
py ignorance that he was knocking the ground 
from under the Deacon’s feet. “I don’t under¬ 
stand,” he continued, “ why you do not have 
annual letting of sheep here. We should not 
know how to get along without them. By using 
a good ram our lambs are worth ten shillings a 
head more, when we sell them to the graziers.”— 
“ If thorough-bred stock does not pay the breed¬ 
ers, at any rate, according to your own showing, 
it pays the farmers who have sense enough to 
use the rams.” 
He staid with me several days, and I learned 
a good deal from him. He was a farmer’s son, 
had been “ through college,” a man of consid¬ 
erable property, but he could, lie said, “ do every 
kind of farm work, and we think,” be continued, 
“that a man who can not is not fit to manage 
a farm.”—I .told him that Avas good Yankee 
ARRANGEMENT FOR CARRYING STRAW. 
doctrine. “ Why don’t you thatch your hay¬ 
stacks ?”—lie asked. “ Because I have no one 
that knows how to do it, and because our ma¬ 
chines break the straw so short.”—“What dif¬ 
ference does that make ? We sometimes thatch 
with stubble.”—We went to the woods and cut 
a bundle of thatch pegs about three feet long, 
and from half to three-quarters of an inch in 
diameter, cutting them off square at one end 
and sharpening the other so that they could be 
pushed into the stack. Then he got four sticks 
about four feet long and an inch in diameter, 
lie tied them together in pairs with a piece of 
strong string so as to alloiv them to be separa¬ 
ted three or four inches, as shown in the engrav¬ 
ing. He also put a string of the same length, 
with a loop at the end, on the other end of one 
of each pair. This was used to carry the straw 
on to the stack. Wo then got a quantity of 
wheat straiv and nearly saturated it with wa¬ 
ter. The straw Avas then pulled out straight 
and laid on two of the sticks, some three or 
four inches thick. The other two sticks Avere 
then brought over and fastened at the other 
end, and the straw Avas carried in this Avay on 
to the liay-stack. First of all lie raked doAvn 
the top of the stack and leveled down the 
inequalities. He then placed the ladder about 
three feet from the gable end of the stack, 
and commenced at the eaves to thatch. Of 
course the straw was laid so that the upper 
layer would lap over the lower one. Then, Avith 
the head of a wooden hay-rake, the straw was 
raked down smooth and straight. Pegs were 
stuck into the stack and the thatch fastened on 
by bay rope or string wrapped round the head of 
the pegs. These Avere hammered doAvn firmly 
into the stack and the operation Avas done. A 
good thatchcr, Avith a man to wait on him, will 
thatch a stack containing 20 tons in a day. 
If Avell done, the hay is as safe as when in a 
barn. Long, coarse grass or rushes make bet¬ 
ter thatch than straw, and Avhen used green 
save the trouble of wetting the straAA - . I think 
a great deal might be done to preserve a stack 
of timothy liay or straw by thoroughly raking 
down the roof after it had settled; doing the 
work Avhen the surface of the stack Avas Avet 
with deAV or rain. 
“I am surprised,” said our English friend, 
“ that you have not steam-plows. I have had 
one on my farm for six years, and we should 
not knoAV Iioav to get along without it. It is 
not that it does the work so much cheaper than 
horses, but it does it quicker and better.”—I told 
him that as soon as wc got rid of our stumps, 
and cleared the land of stones, Ave should be 
ready for the plow. “ Why, bless me!” he ex¬ 
claimed, “ I should think you would want the 
steam-engines to pull out your stumps and stones. 
I could pull up the biggest stump or stone you 
have on the farm and drag it up to the head¬ 
land.”—And really, after going over the farm 
witli him and sliOAving him every impediment 
that I supposed stood in the way of using steam 
and hearing his explanations, I cannot see why 
the steam-plow is not precisely Avhat we want. 
It appears that it is not on easily Avorked land 
like the prairies of the West, that the steam- 
plow is most advantageous, but rather on rough, 
clayey, stumpy, and stony land. On light, 
easily worked land, horses can do the Avork 
about as economically as the steam-engine; but 
when you want to Avork a hard, clay soil, ten, 
twelve, fifteen, or twenty inches deep,—smash 
it up and tear it all to pieces—there the steam- 
engine can be used to great advantage. It does 
not plow so Avell as it Avill tear up and pulverize 
the soil Avith a gigantic cultivator. There is 
another advantage that I had not thought of. 
You can attach a “ mole-plow,” to the gang of 
plows or cultivators, that runs down three feet 
deep and makes a mole drain in the clay sub¬ 
soil. By providing a proper outlet these drains 
are nearly as effective as tile drains. No one 
can doubt that if a ve could thoroughly pulverize 
the surface soil, break up the subsoil, and make 
drains all at one operation, Ave liavo millions of 
acres of land that can be made to produce im¬ 
mense crops with little or no manure. 
A farmer in Iowa does not know Avhat to do 
with his straw. Ho writes: “ I purchased an 
old farm, someAvhat foul and rather Avet. If I 
had to commence again I would take raw prai¬ 
rie, although in three years I have made some 
changes. My crops have increased full one- 
third, and I hope to treble them. I am keeping 
all the stock the farm can cany. This year, if 
the drouth continues, I shall be overstocked. 
And what stock I keep is good. I Avant the best 
or none.”—That is the right doctrine. But good 
stock requires good farming—clean, dry land, 
rich grass, and good care and feed in winter. 
“But my object in writing,” he continues, “is 
to ask you Avhat I shall do with my surplus 
straw. I use all I can in the stables as bedding 
for horses and cattle,—and I stable on the aver¬ 
age twelve head the year round; and I have 
used so much straw that my manure does not 
rot good. I also keep a good supply in my hog- 
lot, yarding the hogs at night. They run in clover 
and rye pastures in summer. And let me here 
say that last season I soAved three acres of clover 
and in the same field I soAved last fall three 
acres of rye. On the first of June I turned 
twenty-five fall pigs into the field. They lived 
on the clover until the rye Avas ripe, and then 
they went at the rye; and this is all the twen¬ 
ty-five pigs have had from the first of June un- 
