1873 .] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
371 
fix his own price. He proposes emigration 
upon a large scale as a means of benefiting 
thorr who go and those who remain. With 
this plan in view Mr. Arch comes to this coun¬ 
try upon a tour of observation. He proposes 
to examine the condition of the laborer here, 
and to ascertain what are the immediate as well 
as ultimate prospects for the immigrant; and 
when he returns and makes his report such 
action as may seem advisable will be taken. 
This cautious and business-like manner of pro¬ 
ceeding is certainly highly commendable, and 
we hope that Mr. Arch will have abundant op¬ 
portunity lor observation. The impression has 
obtained that Mr. Arch comes over at once 
with a large number of laborers, and we have 
been written to with reference to securing a 
number of them. It will be seen from what we 
have said that this is a mistaken idea, as Mr. 
Arch’s visit is entirely preliminary, and all 
future action will be founded upon the report 
lie may make after his return. 
-— -— n&o- -- —-- 
Ogden Farm Papers.—No. 44. 
“L’homme propose, et Dieu dispose,” 
which, being freely interpreted, may be read : 
“Don’t count, your chickens before they are 
hatched.” Was there ever before such an un¬ 
reliable sitting hen as this season has been? Or 
was ever such havoc played with the eggs of a 
farmer’s hopes? Ours were pretty well addled 
by the middle of July. One very essential ele¬ 
ment of success in farming had been persistently 
withheld from us. Seed, labor, soil, and man¬ 
ure, valuable though they are as factors in the 
problem of vegetable growth, are of little avail 
unless the universal solvent comes d dy to lead 
them to their result, and not a solvent did we 
get from the 9th of May until the 17th of July, 
save a couple of insignificant showers, nor did 
we have any perceptible dew for over a month 
ot this time. The weather remained cool—too 
cool for much growth—until the winds had 
dried the ground to below the depth of our 
four-foot drains, and then the sun took its in¬ 
nings, and shriveled and withered every young 
seedling the chill had left. Corn-fodder, plant¬ 
ed with four bushels of seed and ten cords of 
heavy cow manure per acre, began its yellow 
existence late in May, and struggled through 
the various prismatic hues (all save the green), 
until we almost despaired of saving it at all; but 
for once, “theory” got the upper-hand and 
was vindicated. The drier the day, the more 
persistently did the horse-hoe run. The ground 
between the rows became like an ash-heap, 
and, doubtless, its frequent exposure robbed it 
of much of its manure, but the constant stirring 
kept up a constant renewal of fresh air, and the 
air of a hot day is laden with moisture, which 
the shaded lower soil condenses on its cool 
particles. In this way Ave kept our crop alive, 
and encouraged its roots to continue their ef¬ 
fort to get down away from the parch¬ 
ing heat. At last it began to smile Avith the 
consciousness of long-delayed success, and a 
daily deepening glow of hopeful green covered 
the field. Ten acres of corn-fodder Ave were sure 
to have, but the first cutting must be delayed 
more than a month beyond the usual time. 
Our purchased field of clover did tolerably Avell 
in its first cutting, and then sunk into a state of 
final despair and lay idle until the rains came. 
By hook and by crook we kept the cows sup¬ 
plied Avith cut feed or with pasture, and pre¬ 
vented them from drying off, but they were 
about the only thing that did not dry off. 
Among our make-shifts was a poor stand of 
rye, too thin to pay for cutting, whicli served 
for a day’s bite now and then, and which 
proved so good a reliance as to determine me, 
more than ever, never to omit it from the year¬ 
ly planting. Nearly 40 acres of our 60 (of the 
farm proper) are in grass, and Ave had calcu¬ 
lated on 100 tons of hay at the first cutting. 
We counted without our host, and are only too 
glad to have 60 tons snugly housed. Probably 
quite one half of this is due to the extra culti¬ 
vation and proper manuring of our former 
corn-fodder fields, and a good part of the re¬ 
mainder to top-dressing with stable manure. 
The drouth has prevented the “phosphatic 
blood guano” from having any sensible effect. 
I have made frequent allusion to one corner 
of the farm which, a few years ago, Avas too 
deeply plowed. This land is notv in grass. On 
a portion of it we have made several vain at¬ 
tempts to raise crops of roots, and have expend¬ 
ed much manure in the effort. Here the grass 
in April had a somewhat promising look; the 
rest of the tract (about three acres) Avas a capi¬ 
tal illustration of abject poverty. A close ex¬ 
amination discovered some rudimentary grass 
and clover, but nothing that suggested a crop. 1 
I had read so much about top-dressing that it 
Avas determined to try it on this apparently 
forlorn hope, and the land Avas Avell covered 
before the heavy rains that fell early in May. 
The result Avas almost magical; Avhile that 
portion Avhich had looked so promising as 
to seem not to need manure did not yield 
1,000 pounds per acre of poor hay, ox-eye 
daisy, and red sorrel, this poorer part, solely 
as an effect of the top-dressing, produced 
fully 4,000 pounds per acre of very fair hay. 
One swallow' don’t make a summer, but the 
evidence of this field in favor of the surface ap¬ 
plication of coarse manure is very strong and 
Avorthy of remembrance. 
Taking the farm as a whole, even the result 
we have secured in spite of the drouth, is an 
evidence of the value of a well-underdrained 
heavy soil on a clay subsoil. In my market 
garden tiie effect of the season has been simply 
disastrous; celery soavii in April had barely 
come up in July, when the plants were wanted 
for setting. An acre of cabbages which should 
have been all sold in the latter part of June, 
and which, being planted on a heavy clover 
sod and manured with nearly $200 worth of 
stable dung, fish guano, and night soil, should 
have brought $1,000 return at ordinary prices, 
only began to head after the middle of July, 
and will do well if they bring $400 in a very 
high market. Lettuce and spinach came up 
and ran at once to seed. Potatoes dried off 
when the tubers Avere of the size of lien’s eggs, 
and, generally, the season’s profits of this trou¬ 
blesome department have gone “ to the bow¬ 
wows,” leading one to a conviction of the truth 
of the saying that “ nothing is certain in agri¬ 
culture but disappointment; ” hoAvever, Ave do 
manage in some Avay to get along, and the fail¬ 
ures of this year suggest means for avoiding 
their repetition in future years. When luck is 
bad and times are dull, no one is so Avell able 
to weather the storm as a farmer who has a 
good roof over his head, a good heart under his 
jacket, a good wife at his side, and a good soil 
that is yearly growing better under good man¬ 
agement. 
A correspondent in the city, who amuses his 
leisure hours with the management of a farm, 
asks: “Is there any advantage in our country 
in keeping up old pasture fields as in the old 
country? There they are not tempted to turn 
up sod for Indian corn as we are. Is this the 
reason for their partiality for old pasture fields, 
and for their rarity Avith us? I have a beauli- 
tiful six-acre field without a stone in it, with a turf 
like a lawn, on which I have kept a tew sheep 
and cattle for years, and Avhich I intended to 
keep for permanent pasture, but my farmer is 
always urging me to let him put it in corn ; ‘it 
Avould give me such a beautiful crop,’ says he. 
Don’t put yourself to the trouble of answering 
my probably absurd queries, but if they are 
worth the notice, perhaps you may revert to 
the subject in the good old Agriculturist'' 
Farmers in the old country probably have as 
much temptation to plow up old pastures as 
Ave have, and witli the somewhat uncertain 
tenure of tenants-at-will, they doubtless need 
the restraint of the landlord’s interest to prevent 
their doing so. We are usually landlord and 
tenant rolled into one, and our hope of imme¬ 
diate profit should always he tempered by 
our forethought as permanent, owners. I have 
but one word of advice for any one who pro¬ 
poses to break up good grass land for the sake 
ofgrowing a crop of corn, that is—“Don’t.” In 
the first place, to a man who needs grass, 
whether for hay or for pasture, nothing is so 
valuable as a well-sodded field. The only 
reason for plowing it should be to seed it down 
again, and this may nearly or quite always be 
obviated by other means. The harrow, fresh 
seed, and, above all, top-dressing and kind 
treatment in the Avay of a good blanket of tall 
growth to carry it through the winter, will ren¬ 
ovate and perpetuate a sod on any land that is 
fit for grass at all. If you have such a field as 
you describe, cherish it as the apple of your 
eye. It may take years and years to restore it 
if you once break it up. 
Corn 1 Indian corn is the Ignis fatnus of 
Eastern agriculture; a relic of the days when 
our ancestors had to grow it at home or go 
Avithout it, a habit of the Yankee farmer, a 
rut of the old fogyism which hates to adopt, new 
Avays and to relinquish old ones. I modestly 
venture the opinion that not one bushel of corn 
has heen grown within five years anywhere in 
New England, New Jersey, or Eastern iSlew 
York that has not cost more than it came to, 
that has not been grown at a positive loss; 
and I think it is time for men who call them¬ 
selves “ practical ” to cast up the account and 
realize the fact for themselves. On one side 
Ave have the market value of a bushel of Wes¬ 
tern corn and the added extra value of our bet¬ 
ter article; call it if you please $1. Nobody 
pretends that it pays to grow less than 50 bush¬ 
els per acre, and for all the increase beyond 
that you must increase the items of labor and 
manure in proportion, so it will not pay to 
grow 100 bushels. Remember that corn is an 
enormous feeder, and that a full crop can tie 
grown only with an extravagant outlay lor 
manure, and that even the moderate crop which 
can be grown on rich land Avithout much ma¬ 
nure tao.es from the ground material which 
would bring much more money if allowed to 
produce grass. I ha''e never seen a statement 
of the cost of producing a crop of corn for a 
premium in which the loss in fertility was esti¬ 
mated at anything like its fair value for the 
growth of grass. Then take the question of la¬ 
bor. Labor is the mill-stone that threatens to 
