1873 .] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
15 
ter breeds of animals we shall grow more and 
more succulent food for winter feeding. 
My potatoes were a poor crop. The Early 
Rose were better than the Peachblows, planted 
side by side. This I attributed to the long- 
continued drouth. The Rose was ripe just 
at the time that the Peachblow would have 
made the greatest growth in a favorable season. 
Mr. Edward L. Coy sent me a peck of “Thor- 
burn’s Late Rose Potatoes,” which it was said 
“would yield two or three times as much as 
Early Rose, planted in the field with ordinary 
culture.” I was through, planting when they 
came, and had just commenced ridging for 
mangels, and had got manure spread in the 
ridge. I planted the potatoes on top of the 
manure, and then covered them with the plow. 
The Late Rose only planted part of the row, 
and we finished the row with Early Rose. I did 
not measure, but should judge that the Late 
Rose yielded one quarter to one third more than 
the Early Rose; but both of them yielded more 
than double the crop of either the Early Rose 
or Peachblows planted in the same field without 
manure. In fact, the men in digging said this one 
manured row yielded as much as three of the 
unmanured rows. The potatoes, too, grown on 
the manure were just as sound and healthy as 
those unmanured. Some of the Late Rose 
potatoes were nearly as large as the big, coarse 
California potatoes which we used to grow ten 
years ago for stock. But we baked a few of 
these large Late Rose, and found them of excel¬ 
lent quality. What we want is to pay not less 
attention to new varieties, but more attention 
to enriching the land. 
My corn crop was the best I have had for 
many years, and yet it was in the same field 
and on the same kind of soil as the potatoes 
which turned out so poorly. Corn will stand 
drouth better than potatoes. The good yield of 
potatoes on the one manured row proves that 
manure is to some extent a substitute for rain. 
I must be allowed to congratulate myself on 
one point. The mangels, corn, and potatoes 
were all in one field, and, with the exception of 
a patch of thistles adjoining an old fence and 
stone-heap, there was not at harvest a bushel 
of weeds in the whole field of twenty-two 
acres. And yet I never spent so little labor in 
hoeing. It is due in a good degree to the thor¬ 
ough cultivation bestowed on the land while in 
corn five years ago. I would like to give a his¬ 
tory of this field before and since it came into 
my possession, but must defer it for the present. 
I ought to state, however, that I used Thomas’s 
harrow freely, both on the corn and potatoes 
after they were planted, and then kept the cul¬ 
tivator going frequently between the rows. I 
ran the cultivator through the corn as late as the 
last of July or first of August. 
The other labors of the year consisted in 
deepening and tiling the big ditch I have so 
often spoken of. We also summer-fallowed 20 
acres for wheat, plowing it three times, and get¬ 
ting out great quantities of stones, and making 
it so smooth that a boy can drive a mowing- 
machine all over it. I am tired of having to 
“stake” my clover meadows every year, and 
then setting a man to mow round the stones 
after the machine. I use two mowers, and 
want the boys to run them. I believe in the 
boys. They are less prejudiced, and not so 
easily discouraged as their slow-going daddies. 
But I do not rvant a boy on a machine where 
there are stones. It is too dangerous a place. 
I was myself once pitched clean off a reaper by 
running against a fixed stone. 
We fall-plowed fourteen acres of clover sod 
for barley, and I hoped to have plowed, or at 
any rate to have cultivated, with a big four- 
horse cultivator, my corn-stubble and potato 
ground, where we intend to sow barley in the 
spring. But the liorse-disease rendered it im¬ 
possible. Every horse I had was attacked, but 
not very severely. 
In fact, I think this epidemic was a great 
benefit to my horses. They got a week’s abso¬ 
lute rest, all the bran-mashes they would eat, 
and the best of care and grooming. I have 
always wanted this done, but have found it 
almost impossible to get it faithfully performed. 
But as soon as the epidemic broke out in the 
city, and two or three of my horses showed 
symptoms of the disease, all my men seemed 
anxious to “do something,” and I set them to 
work. The stable was swept in every nook 
and corner, cobwebs brushed down, mangers 
and racks cleaned out; and every particle of 
food removed the moment the horses were 
through eating. Bran-mashes were freely given, 
and as medicine of some kind had to be given, 
we put a little pulverized saltpeter and sulphur 
in the cut-feed. We then got a pail of warm 
soft water, and put three or four table-spoon¬ 
fuls of liquid ammonia into it. With this, and 
plenty of soft-soap and a little carbolic soap, we 
washed the horses all over, setting two men to 
each horse, and as soon as he was washed and 
partly dried by rubbing, we threw a blanket 
over him, and then rubbed his legs, belly, head, 
ears, neck, etc., with wisps of dry straw. The 
next morning the horses were treated to such a 
lively brushing, one man on each side, as they 
have never before had since they have been on 
this farm. It would be a lucky thing for my 
horses if they were threatened with this disease 
about once a month. 
This resume of the labors of the year is very 
incomplete. A farmer’s life is anything but a 
monotonous one. His labors vary day by day 
and season after season. He has more things to 
attend to than most city men. As one of the 
old Roman writers said, “a farmer should be a 
seller rather than a buyer.” He raises a good 
share of everything that he needs, and it will 
make a great difference in his expenses and in 
the comfort of his family whether he is or is not 
“ a good provider.” 
There are two old farmers in this neighbor¬ 
hood who are noted for having good gardens— 
noted, in fact, for having everything that makes 
home comfortable. I do not know that they 
are aware of the fact, but it is nevertheless true, 
that I try to have as good a garden and orchard 
as they have. A little friendly rivalry is a good 
thing. I am trying hard to beat them in raising 
Morthern Spy apples. I have an orchard of 
over 200 northern Spy apple-trees, set out, I 
believe, 14 years ago. This variety, as J. J. 
Thomas once remarked, “ is a long time coming 
into bearing, but worth waiting for.” The trees 
have made a great growth, and I am trying to 
keep them healthy, and induce them to bear 
moderately every year. This past season was 
not the “ bearing year,” and yet I had nearly as 
much fruit as the year before, and of excellent 
quality. My plan is to thin out the fruit when 
there is more than the tree can mature perfectly. 
I keep the land in grass, and have top-dressed 
it liberally for three or four years past. And the 
grass is kept closely depastured by sheep. 
Their droppings return to the land more than 
the grass removes, owing to the fact that the 
sheep spring and fall get extra food in the shape 
of hay, bran, roots, and sometimes a little grain. 
The growth of the trees and the dark foliage 
show that they are not suffering for plant-food 
or moisture. The sheep pick up all the stung 
apples that fall, and in this way I am in hopes 
of checking the spread of the codling-moth. 
The fruit is quite liable to be spotted with fun¬ 
gus, but I trust that by continuing to wash the 
trunks and large limbs with lye and carbolic 
soap we shall be able to avoid this trouble. 
The indications are quite encouraging. The 
bark, wherever the lye and carbolic soap touch 
it, is entirely free from moss, and looks bright 
and healthy. Mr. Hooker says ordinary soft- 
soap would have the same effect. I presume it 
would if used freely and frequently, but the lye 
and carbolic soap are much more powerful, 
and are not expensive. This winter I mean to 
go over every tree again, and apply the lye up 
higher along the branches. It is not as much 
work as might be supposed. It requires a 
little energy to commence—that is all. 
The Use of Windmills. 
A “ Subscriber ” writes from Illinois that he 
is in trouble, and his trouble has become chronic. 
For some years past, during a considerable por¬ 
tion of the year he has had no water in his well. 
His neighbors’ wells have also failed, so that 
water has become a scarce article. He owns 
a grist-mill which is run by steam, at least is 
when water can be procured. But now and 
for some time back, and for several seasons at 
this period, his mill has been idle and his busi¬ 
ness suspended. He asks, “ Is there no way of 
using the winds which are always sweeping 
over these prairies ” ? For the relief of our 
“ Subscriber” and many others, we reply, there 
is a way out of this difficulty which it is most 
strange has not been widely adopted in the 
Western States. Windmills—not the sham, gin¬ 
gerbread, toy things commonly exhibited at 
agricultural fairs, which are fit only to pump 
water for a cistern, but solid, substantial struc¬ 
tures, which will turn two pair of stones, with 
all the elevators and bolts of a country grist¬ 
mill. We append to this article an engraving 
of a windmill such as has been in existence on 
Long Island and Rhode Island for centuries, 
and which is a common feature in the land¬ 
scape in Europe and throughout England. We 
judge that one half of the mills in those countries 
are run by the wind, and there are just such 
mills as the one pictured on next page, which 
are two or more centuries old, and one we have 
visited claims to have withstood the breezes of 
five hundred years, and to have during that 
long period ground the meal for more than a 
dozen generations. How, why such mills could 
not be built and run in the West we fail to per¬ 
ceive. They are of the simplest character, of 
the most substantial structure, and the power is 
the very cheapest that could be procured. Its 
only weak point is that it can not run on some 
few occasions. But on the other hand, the.case 
of our “ Subscriber ” shows that the generally in¬ 
fallible steam-engine sometimes stops. There 
are seasons of low water and freshets when 
water-wheels are useless. But very seldom is 
there a total absence of wind for twenty-four 
hours at a time. Taking all these considera¬ 
tions into view, it is quite certain that the old- 
