262 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
in the Summer, than I could carry through the 
foddering season, without buying hay. 
But Deacon Little seemed to think it was a 
presumptuous thing, and a little nearer to sacri¬ 
lege, than anything should be, up here in “ the 
land of steady habits.” The deacon, having 
passed his four score years some time ago, is one 
of the good old men, who belong to a former age, 
whom death seems to forget, they are so exem¬ 
plary in all their deportment. The Bible is not 
only his authority in all religious matters, as it 
should be, but in every thing else. He at once 
brought my project to this test. Said he to me 
one day: 
“ It is of no use, Timothy—‘ a salt land and 
not inhabited,’ is written in the Bible, and you 
might as well expect English hay on the plains of 
Sodom, as on that mash.” 
“ But salt grass grows there now, and if you 
shut off the sea water, why will not the fresh 
grasses grow 1 ” I asked. 
“ Ah ! Timothy, you forget that the Almighty 
made that a salt mash, and his works are per¬ 
fect." 
“ Perfect for some uses, but not for ours. He 
has made me with brains to make new creations, 
and I shall try to make that piece of land over 
again.” 
“You are a sorry infidel, Tim Bunker, I am 
sorry to say it,” and the old man left me, with a 
very poor opinion of my reverence for the Divine 
workmanship. 
My other neighbors had as poor an opinion of 
my judgment and good sense, as the deacon had 
of my veneration for the Almighty. At the time 
the gate was put in, they were all on hand to see 
the new hobby. 
“ What new fangled consarn’s that 1 ” asked 
Jake Frink. 
“ How is it going to work 1 ” inquired Seth 
Twigs. 
“Ye don’t expect that door will shet itself, and 
keep the water eout, dew ye 1 ” wondered Tucker 
and Jones. 
“A great piece of folly,” exclaimed uncle 
Jotham. “ Ye see, this thing has been tried time 
and agin, down on the island, and allers failed. 
Ben Miller had jest sich a consarn, and tinkered 
away with it four or five years, and gin it up as 
a humbug.” 
“ Yes,” said I, “ and Ben Miller tinkered with 
fish, and spiled his land, you said, but you see, 
what whopping crops I get with fish, eighty 
bushels of corn to the acre, and forty of rye. 
You see, Jotham Sparrowgrass, it was never 
meant that one man should do everything.” 
“ It is well Mr. Bunker has the money to lose 
on such an experiment,” remarked Mr. Spooner, 
who evidently had as little faith in my success as 
our less intelligent neighbors. 
Well, last year I got a good crop, but there 
was a considerable black marsh and onion grass 
left, and occasional weeds that rather spoiled the 
beauty of the meadow. But this year the herds- 
grass and redtop, that I sowed two years ago, 
got full possession, and a handsomer lot of grass 
you never saw out of doors. It was a grand 
sight on the morning of the 11th of July, when 
we cut it, the purple tassels of the lierds-grass 
standing just about four feet high, and the red- 
top a little shorter, a thick mat of heavy grass, in 
many places good for three and a half tuns to the 
acre. I tried to get my neighbors all out to see 
it, but it was hard work to get some of the scep¬ 
tics along the road anywhere in sight of it, they 
were so determined that nothing but salt marsh 
grass should grow there forever. 
I suppose I have ruined myself fir life in the 
esteem of Deacon Little, who, having seen the 
hay, and heard the talk of the people, thinks I 
must have had resort to the black art to get the 
crop. The deacon is about half right, for I did 
give about two acres of it a thorough top dressing 
of black compost last Winter, which started the 
grass as if there was something behind it. This 
is the only kind of black art I believe in, and this 
I am bound to practice and teach to my neigh¬ 
bors. I think it is not very dangerous. 
Yours to command, 
Timothy Bunker, Esq. 
Hookertown, July 25 th, 1859. 
- < —-*-• - 
Winter Fallows. 
To the Editor of the American Agriculturist 
Summer fallows have pretty well gone out of 
fashion, as they deserved to, for the fields when 
left unsown, “ to rest,” as people used to say, 
seemed to delight to grow weeds, just for recrea¬ 
tion, and then it took a long time before they could 
be brought to mind their business, and bear the 
old crops of grain again. But I believe in Winter 
fallows. When I want a good, clean, and heavy 
piece of corn, I begin the Fall before, and turn 
the sod under, early enough to let the scattering 
grass and seeds get a start, to be mostly killed 
out by the cold in Winter. Jack Frost is a capi¬ 
tal hand, too, to kill grubs and worms, and he 
leaves very few if they are turned up where he 
can have a good chance at them. If the ground be 
left in ridges, just as it was plowed, the freezing 
and thawing will pulverize it and in the Spring it 
will be light work to run the plow and harrow 
through again. The sod will also be so well sub¬ 
dued, that the after work of hoeing will be very 
different from fighting grass all Summer, as I’ve 
often had to do in a wet season, where a heavy 
sod had been turned under in the Spring. I would 
spread manure on in the Spring before plowing, 
and then plow light, leaving the sod below undis¬ 
turbed for the corn roots to work in when they 
get down there. Jonathan. 
For the American Agriculturist. 
Application of Manures. 
It is by no means settled yet, whether manures 
should be applied to the surface of the ground, or 
be plowed under at once ; nor whether they 
should be used fresh, or in a perfectly fermented 
state. By many it is held that manure always de¬ 
scends into the soil, especially by leaching, and 
therefore that it should be placed on the surface. 
Others hold that the volatile and most valuable 
parts always rise, in the process of fermentation, 
and that therefore the manure should be buried 
deep. 
Now, is there not a little truth and a little er¬ 
ror on both sides l Manure is less of a traveler 
than is sometimes supposed ; it stays pretty near 
where it is put. On cleaning out one’s barn-yard 
in the Spring, the soil is found discolored beneath 
the piles of manure only a few inches in depth. 
Then again, we may cover putrifying offal with 
only four or five inches of dirt, and the offensive 
odors will all be absorbed. If lumps of manure 
are buried in the soil in the Spring, and not pul¬ 
verised and mixed with the surrounding earth, 
they will be found in the same place in the Fall, 
and with little change of condition. If we make 
a compost heap of one-third manure and two- 
thirds muck, or half manure and half muck, the 
soluble and volatile parts will all be retained 
within the bounds of the compost. 
It is held by very many intelligent and practi¬ 
cal farmers, that unfermented manures scattered 
on the surface of the ground, lose a large part 
of their ammonia in the air. That there is a 
waste of this, any one who has the sense of 
smell can satisfy himself by passing along the 
road where a farmer is carting out his fresh ma¬ 
nure and spreading it on his fields. Yet it is re¬ 
plied to this that the loss is comparatively small 
and not to be set against the benefits derived 
from surface manuring. The decomposition is 
much less rapid than when in the heap, and the 
ammonia generated is carried down by dews and 
rains into the soil. The other portions of the 
manure not being volatile are not lost; they are 
gradually washed dowm into the earth in a liquid 
state, where they are taken up by the growing 
plants just as fast as they are wanted. This ex¬ 
treme dilution of the manure and its intimate dif¬ 
fusion throughout the soil are matters of the high¬ 
est importance. John Johnston, near Geneva, 
one of the best farmers in this State, applies his 
manure generally upon the surface of his land, 
and that in a half fermented state. On grass 
fields intended for corn the next year, he spreads 
it on the surface in September, letting it lie undis¬ 
turbed until the following April or May, when it 
is plowed under. He holds that the soluble parts 
give the grass a heavy growth, and the other parts 
when plowed in improve the texture of the soil. 
For wheat, he applies his manure at the time of 
sowing, or just before, and harrows it in. 
We have somewhere met with the published 
opinion of Dr. Voeckler, an eminent European 
chemist, that “no sensible loss arises from 
spreading unfermented manure on the surface of a 
field, because fermentation ceases almost entire¬ 
ly when it is spread ; and that if manure is left on 
the surface until all its liquid parts are washed 
into the ground, it is better than though it had 
been buried at once. This is so especially on 
clayey soils.” 
It seems to be forgotten by many who advo¬ 
cate this practice, that fresh manures are gener 
ally full of the seeds of weeds, which must spring 
up at once and give the farmer much trouble in 
subduing them. If the manure were allowed to 
ferment, most of these seeds would be destroyed. 
It is a good argument for surface-manuring, 
that it keeps the ground cooler in Summer and 
warmer in Winter. Such a mulch applied to 
hay-fields just after mowing, prevents them from 
being dried up, and gives the grass a speedy and 
vigorous start. It causes the undecomposed ele¬ 
ments of the top-soil to decay, and so to become 
a source of fertility to crops. Surface manuring 
feeds the roots below with food convenient for 
them, viz. : in a liquid and exceedingly diluted 
state, and a little of it at a time. Surely, this is 
better than placing the coarse, raw manure direct¬ 
ly in contact with the delicate roots. Nature is 
continually teaching us a lesson on this point. 
She spreads her fertilizing substances broadcast, 
so protecting the roots of trees and plants amid 
the frosts of Winter and the heats of Summer, 
and by their gradual decay, furnishing constant 
supplies of nourishment. 
We care not now to sum up, and declare an au 
thoritative opinion on this subject. With so much 
of theory and practice on both sides, it would be 
assuming too much to do so. The field is open 
for experiment and ttudy. Every man is likely 
to hold fast to his own opinion, if his practice has 
been successful. We can only say that our eyes 
have smarted and our nose tingled too much over 
the manure heap when disturbed, not to believe 
that ammonia is lost rapidly and largely when 
unfermented manure is carted and spread on the 
open ground. The atmosphere of all the farm- 
fields about us is too largely charged every Spring 
