1870.] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
455 
A Brick Smoke-House and Ash-House. 
Safety from fire is or ought to be carefully 
considered in putting up any structure about 
the place, and iu deciding -where to put wood- 
ashes when removed from the stove or fireplace. 
Smoke-houses are peculiarly liable to take fire, 
if they are of wood, and such are a continual 
annoyance and care, during' the season when 
they are most in use. At other times they are 
useless except to hang the hams and bacon in to 
keep the flies away. Smoke-houses ought to be 
built of brick, if we would not be made uncom¬ 
fortable by them from fear of fire, and it is alto¬ 
gether best to have no wood about them. Fig. 
1 represents a brick smoke-house, 7 feet high in 
the clear, 7 feet 8 inches high outside, and 7 by 
8 feet on the ground. The walls and arch are 
one brick (8 inches) thick throughout, the whole 
standing upon a foundation bed of stone, not 
less than one foot deep, and extending one foot 
outside the walls on all sides. This is covered 
with grave], and topped with clay, after the 
house is done, which secures a dry, hard floor. 
The roof is laid upon an arch of boards, in any 
good, strong mortar. When done, the arch of 
wood is removed, and strips of lioop-iron hav¬ 
ing tenter-hooks attached to them, are set in 
and fastened to the brick arch by key-bolts pass¬ 
ing through and keyed on the inside. (See fig¬ 
ure 2.) The roof is covered with a coat of mor¬ 
tar mixed with cement and “ floated ” down 
smooth. At the rear of the house a chimney 
should be placed, having an opening at the bot¬ 
tom, and also near the top. The lower opening 
is kept partly 
open all the time, 
but closed with 
wire - cloth, if 
mice find their 
way in. The up¬ 
per one is open¬ 
ed only when 
the room is like¬ 
ly to get too hot. 
If stone slabs of 
two feet or more 
in width, and of 
convenient size 
are obtainable, 
they may be set 
up so as to give plenty of room upon the floor 
to stand when hanging meat and making the 
fire, while there will be room behind the slabs 
for two or more loads of ashes. Besides, this is 
very convenient,because smoked meats are better 
kept,when buried in ashes than in any other way. 
Fig. 2. —SECTION. 
How far to Haul Peat foii Manure.— 
When peat, or muck, is thrown out of the bed 
in summer and allowed to dry, it usually be¬ 
comes quite hard and not easily broken up, 
even by the freezing of winter, unless again 
thoroughly water-soaked. Peat thrown out in 
the autumn or winter will be thoroughly crum¬ 
bled by the action of the weather by spring, and 
may be drawn away as soon as it is dry enough, 
at any convenient time during the summer. 
It is very poor policy to haul water very far, 
especially if it is enclosed in peat, which you 
will have to dry wholly or in part before it can 
be used. In the condition called dry, it contains 
usually some 10 or 12 percent of water; but 
this is little, compared with the 50 per cent or 
more, it contains, when freshly dug. The com¬ 
position of peat, as regards the comparative 
quantities of organic and inorganic matters, va¬ 
ries greatly; but in those peats in which sand 
and earth are not obvious constituents, we may 
assume that there is about 60 per cent of vege¬ 
table matter, which contains nearly 2 per cent 
of ammonia. And it would be fair tp assume 
an average of l 1 j 2 per cent of this substance in 
the peaty deposits which are accessible to most 
farmers. Barn-yard manure as usually hauled 
does not contain half so much ammonia, for it 
is much wetter, but a good compost heap is fre¬ 
quently equally rich. Barn-yard manure is 
richer in potash and phosphoric acid, and is 
really better as a regular plant-food; but the 
variation in analyses and the general experience 
of farmers, we think, clearly lead to the deci¬ 
sion that load for load, one is worth as much as 
the other; and hence the farmer can afford to 
haul one as far as the other, and to pay as much 
for it, provided it be dug and nearly dry. If it 
can be taken home as a return load when oth¬ 
erwise the teams would come back without one, 
it will pay well to haul it four miles. To go for 
it alone, would make it cost a good deal more, 
and few farmers would think they could go 
much more than half that distance, if so far. 
--« . - n gt——► —- —- 
Pumpkins as a Stolen Crop. 
We have seen fewer of the yellow orbs than 
usual this season, on account of the drouth. 
We could wish that we had seeu the last of 
them. It is about time that pumpkins were re¬ 
tired from service, and entered upon the fossil 
list. If any fossil farmers still wish to cultivate 
them, let them devote a piece of ground spe¬ 
cially to the purpose, rather than cumber the 
cornfield and the potato patch with them. 
Even when they are planted at the first weed¬ 
ing in June, they soon spread over the inter¬ 
vals between the rows, and seriously interfere 
with cultivation. The profit of raising corn 
depends very much upon the thorough cultiva¬ 
tion it gets in the month of July. Yines cannot 
help obstructing the hoe and cultivator. Then 
they make their growth at the same time as the 
corn, and must draw upon the same constitu¬ 
ents in the soil that nourish the corn. The 
yield must he diminished. Turnips sown at the 
last cultivating in August only just get started 
when the corn is finished, and make nearly all 
their growth in the fall. Then pumpkins are 
of very little value when they are raised. For 
pies they are worthless beside the Hubbard or 
Marrow squash. The squash should have the 
ground on the principle of survival of the 
fittest. The pumpkin is used for making milk 
and beef. The corn that could be raised in its 
stead is worth more. Squashes are better. A 
stolen crop of turnips would be twice as valu¬ 
able, and would be better for the land. Not 
even for Thanksgiving’s sake and the immortal 
memory of pumpkin pies, can we afford to cul¬ 
tivate this vegetable. Its room is better than 
its company. Connecticut. 
An Excellent Butter-worker. 
The farmer of “ Ogden Farm ” described in 
one of the “ Ogden Farm Papers,” (see Agri¬ 
culturist for April, 1870, p. 131), a new butter- 
worker he had recently introduced into his 
dairy. There has been so much inquiry about 
it we have had engravings made to represent it 
which scarcely need any other explanation than 
to give the dimensions. The table is of white 
oak three feet long, and two feet wide, made 
very substantially. The side away from the 
dairy-woman, as shown in figure 1, is the low¬ 
est, and a groove runs around three sides of the 
table to conduct the butter-milk to a drip at one 
corner. The paddle or knife is shown at figure 
2. It is a foot long and five inches wide, with 
handles six inches long, made from one piece of 
oak board, worked smooth and true to a blunt 
edge on each side, as shown in the figure. 
The butter is formed and worked by this 
Fig. 2.—PADDLE. 
knife, which is held in both hands. Any good 
butter-maker will quickly get the knack of 
using it, as it is much easier than working with 
the ladle or paddle commonly employed. 
Tim Bunker on Good Neighborhood. 
“I could a got along well enough -with turkey 
shootin ef he had n’t gone down to the store 
and brag’d on’t;” said Seth Twiggs, rapping the 
ashes out of his third pipe, as he stood by my 
garden fence. 
“You don’t say that Jake Frink killed your 
turkeys, dew ye?” inquired Tucker. 
Yes, he did, and brag’d on’t, tew. Ye see I 
kept turkeys, and Jake also, and sometimes 
Jake’s got into my garden and sometimes mine 
into Jake’s field. Sometimes he’d bring iu a 
bill for damaged corn, which I allers paid like 
a Christian man. Sometimes I druv his turkeys 
home and asked him to take care on ’em. But I 
never thought o’ killin on ’em, more’n I wud one 
of Jake’s sheep. And now the critter’s killed 
five of my young turkeys, and had n’t the face 
to come and tell me on’t like a man, but went 
down to the store and brng’d on’t as ef he’d 
done suthin kind o’ grand.” 
