214 
JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
August 30, 1891. 
A fine crop of Early Puritan Potato, without a trace of 
disease, was being sent direct from field to market. This was 
right as regards the sort, but it is well always to have the 
Potato crop cleared in time for some such crop as autumn 
Onions, Celery, Colewort, or spring Cabbages 
WORK ON THE HOME FARM. 
Persistent wet weather has not only eontinued to hinder the corn 
harvest and the late haymaking, but has caused much anxiety about the 
risk of sprouting corn. A little corn has been put into stack, and as we 
write there are indications of a change to finer weather. Much of the 
corn has been so beaten down by heavy rain that reaping has been 
difficult, and young layers have suffered severely. Some are so bare of 
plant that they must be broken up. Save the corn is now the cry, and 
with fine weather most of it will be in stack in the course of another 
week, as most of it is in shock, and all we have to do is to get it 
thoroughly dry before carting. There will be difficulty with some where 
weed growth is very strong. The dripping weather has been favourable 
to weed growth, and there is much land very foul. The Barley crop is a 
good one, some of Webb’s Chevalier being a fine bright malting sample 
which should go well on market if it can now be saved. White and 
black Oats from the same firm are excellent, but the Black Tartarian 
had stouter straw and kept erect, while the white Oats were beaten 
down so badly that binding in sheafs could not be done, as there would 
have been as many ears at bottom as at top. The only thing to do was 
to use an old reaper, to turn the heaps once or twice, and to cart to the 
stack like hay. The grain is large and heavy, and it was decided that 
for a crop so badly laid mowing with scythes would not answer, more 
especially as the corn was fully ripe before the reaping could be done, 
the scythes would have knocked out much of the corn. 
Heavy arrears of work are an outcome of the wet weather. Upon an 
estate where all straw has to be used on the farms, and very much of it is 
trodden down in yards, we have seen the manure so made last winter still 
lying in the yards. The yards mast be cleared of it very soon, and it 
should be carted directly to the land and ploughed in for Wheat, unless 
any of it is wanted for roots next April. We fear this points to late 
Wheat sowing, and is an instance of the force of custom. If it is now 
put into a heap there should be a bed of soil in readiness for it, and it 
should be covered at once. 
HARVEST TIME. 
All through the long hot hours and far into evening a great calm 
has overspread the village—a calm only broken by the occasional cry 
of a child or the hoarse voice of an itinerant vendor of plums. The 
clock in the old church has struck the hours unheeded, the very birds 
are asleep, the school deserted, and the signs of active life are few. 
The cat basking on a wall in the sun, the dog on the mat inside the 
open door fitfully start, then settle again to dream of a land where 
mice abound and back yards are fairly paved with good “ meaty ” bones. 
A stranger passing through would wonder at this lack of movement, 
would hazard guesses as to the whereabouts of the inhabitants, young 
and old. Surely the village is not as Goldsmith’s “Sweet Auburn.’’ 
No, the homes all look too prosperous, the gardens too well kept to 
bespeak desertion. 
Apparently no plague or evil has come nigh ; the calm peacefulness 
of the scene is broken by no passing bell—death is not busy at any rate. 
Ah 1 Then how unwittingly we are near the solution of this enigma. 
“ The sickle keen,” or its modern equivalent, has been busy for hours, 
possibly long before you, kind reader, thought of leaving your comfort¬ 
able bed. By early dawn this morning all was life and activity. From 
the farmstead comes a heavy, lumbering, creaking sound, a long, flat¬ 
bodied sideless cart with a strange load comes round the corner and down 
the steep descent into the village street, on it is a tumbril (do you know 
what that is ?) some bags of cut meat and a heap of cool, succulent tares 
fresh cut, curious three-tined rakes, baskets and “ basses ” of food, tin 
drinking cans, and what room is left is taken up by men and children, 
all eager and anxious for the day’s work. The children were only let 
loose from lessons yeterday, some of them are “ old hands,” and can 
make bands as well or better than their fathers; for others it is 
their first season, and in their ignorance the poor bairns think their 
work will be one long play, with the extra satisfaction of the shillings 
which will be added to the home revenue. 
After the “ long cart ” comes a low oblong iron box, a new and most 
convenient form of water cart, for to-day promises great heat, and the 
field to be cut is up on the top among the woods far away from stream 
or spring. Then comes the rattle of the machines, two of them, one of 
a smaller build calculated to “open out,” just to take the first breadth 
round the field and so prepare the way for its larger, stronger brother. 
It is no child’s play reaping. Take your strongest and best horses, and 
even then they can only go for a limited time. How pleasant is this 
outdoor stable under the Chestnut tree ! 
Now a start is made. See each man fall into his place with his little 
band maker beside him. There is music even in the whirl of machinery, 
and it is a pleasure to see such clear, clean cutting. The dew has been 
heavy this morning, and the barley would clog. Seeds have not failed 
this year, and the Clover is long and abundant. It wind comes, and 
there are signs of it, there will be necked Barley again, causing much 
loss and damage to the farmer, who can ill sustain it; but, however, till 
there is a little more dryness “ fifty-acre ” Wheat must be cut ; then, 
as the day brightens and the dews disperse that Barley in “ Captain’s 
Moor ” must be at least begun. Last year there was no need to wait. 
no drying then necessary, all was like tinder ; no “ seeds,” or at most so 
few as to be almost invisible. 
Look at these sons of toil. Do they appear down-trodden and 
oppressed? You will not find better examples in the whole of Old 
England. We have not many changes. You see pretty much the same 
faces as you would have done ten years ago. The names are all familiar 
to you ; possibly the holders are not the men you knew in bygone days. 
Some of these little ones are the grandchildren of your old playmates. 
See, we have them all ages, from that old man whose eyes begin to see 
the “ land that is very far off,” to young Rufus, whose first year it is 
making bands for his father Matt, 
Notice how easily the machine gives off the proper quantity of corn 
requisite for a sheaf—how deftly that little lad twists a band. How 
quickly the corn is laid on it, knotted, and put aside, and so on and on 
till every ear has fallen. When a few rounds have been made, and the 
ground cumbered with sheaves, the foreman and another begin to stack, 
for the order here is never to let a sheaf lie a moment longer than 
necessary. It has to be done some time, so why not at once ? and order 
is one of Heaven’s first laws. 
Now for the swathe rake. Gather what you can between stooks. 
Fetch the scythe and mow out this corner. It is an awkward turn, and 
time is lost at it. What, is there a stop ? machine broken, eh 1 No, 
only stuffed up a bit. Whoa there, Daisy, stand still. Now, men, all 
right again. Do you admire those powerful limbs—those sleek coats ? 
Yes, waggoner is proud of those two mares, and they do him credit. 
Take ’em out now and give them a bit of meat, and we’ll have our 
drinkins. Neither man nor beast can work without food, and more 
especially drink. Not much beer goes up to the field—principally cold 
tea or oatmeal water ; but the food is more diverse—slices of bacon, 
laid between “ light cake ” (i e., cake made of bread dough), pies,. 
cbeeseoakes, and no end of solid food. Now to work again. 
Here comes the master, gun in hand, terrier at foot, and young son 
not far off. “ Well foreman how do you get on ? ” “ Why pretty 
middlin’, there’s a sight o’ stuff, and it’s very fit. Wind seems to have 
settled a bit, and I think we’d almost as well get done here first. 
Barley ’ll tak’ no hurt till to-morrow, I think we shall have a fine day or 
two now. What does paaper say, sir?” Finally it is decided that 
Barley may wait. There is possibly a lurking wish that the Wheat may 
be finished straight off, you can’t guess why, that little lad knows tho’. 
“ Oh 1 father, may I fetch my tea up here and stay till the finish? you 
know how many rabbits you got here the last time this was Wheat, and 
there is sure to be some good fun.” The men know that. Watch the piles 
of corn as it slowly lessens, there is a whirl of wings, up fly pheasants 
and partridges, numberless; away darts a rabbit with his life in his 
hand ; alas ! poor bunny you were seen. With a roar and a shout he is 
follow'ed and run down ere he reaches the friendly shelter of the 
plantation, another and then another, men flying in all directions, the 
bang bang of a gun ; only the boy or the reaper pursues his way 
unmoved. There is too much of value confided to his care, and he is 
above the vulgar excitement of rabbit catching. 
There, the last sheaf is tied, the last stock set fair, the rabbits divided» 
the master remembsring the older men, and perhaps saving some for 
sundry sick folk at home, to whom the idea of broth is most soothing. 
Are the little ones tired ? there is a seat for them on the wagon and a 
good supper at home. The day has been dry, they are not hampered 
with clayey boots and sodden clothes, and a night’s good rest will fit 
them for to-morrow’s toil. Are there no difficulties with men here. Not 
often. You see they know us, and we know them, and our confidence is 
mutual. A farmer is not the man to grudge a fair day’s wage for a fair 
day’s work, and the men know it. They know, too, they work for a 
master who appreciates honest effort, and they give him of their best.— 
A Farmer’s Wipe. 
METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS. 
Oamdex Squabs, Londox. 
Lat.510 32'4I" N.; Long. 0° 8'0" W.: Altitude. Ill feet 
Date. 
9 A.M. 
Ix TOE Day. 
a 
‘3 
CZ4 
1894, 
August. 
Barometer 
1 at 32°, and 
1 Sea Level. 
Hygrometer. 
Direc¬ 
tion of 
Wind. 
Temp, 
of soil 
at 
1 foot. 
Shade Tem¬ 
perature. 
Radiation 
Temperature 
Dry. 
Wet. 
Max. 
Min. 
In 
Sun. 
Oq 
Grass. 
Inchs. 
deg. 
deg. 
deg. 
deg. 
deg. 
deg. 
deg. 
Inch.s. 
Sunday .. 
19 
30-068 
58-8 
55*0 
N.W. 
68-8 
65-8 
5J-2 
97-7 
48 2 
0-018 
Monday .. 
20 
29-874 
57-3 
50-9 
N.W. 
59-J 
66-3 
53-8 
116-1 
49 8 
— 
Tuesday .. 
21 
2a-9:0 
57-9 
51-6 
N. 
58-6 
63-1 
44-3 
98-0 
41-9 
0-010 
Wednesday 
22 
29-819 
59-1 
55-1 
N.W. 
68 2 
71-4 
49-3 
llfl 
450 
0-090 
Thursday .. 
23 
-29*345 
58-1 
57-8 
E. 
59 2 
60-2 
63-3 
7-20 
48-3 
0-901 
Friday 
24 
30-04-2 
59 3 
57-9 
N. 
58-9 
65-3 
56-1 
88-6 
57-1 
0-528 
Saturday .. 
25 
30-117 
57-2 
66-7 
N. 
59-J 
66-4 
55-4 
75-6 
54-9 
0-144 
-29-952 
58-2 
65-0 
58-8 
65-5 
51-8 
94-0 
49-3 
1-691 
REMARKS. 
19th.—Overcast throughout, with frequent slight showers. 
20th.—Brilliaut sunshine till 10 A.M , and genera ly sunny after. 
21st.—Sunny early ; overcast after 11 A.M., with frequent spots of rain and drizzle. 
22nd.—Sunny day; overcast evening. 
23rd.—Steady heavy rain from 7.30 A.M. to 2 r.M. ; gloomy, with frequent showers and 
drizzle after. 
24th.—Dull and overcast throughout; drizzle eaily and a shower at 8 P.M. 
25th.—Heavy rain from 5 a.m. to 6.30 A.M., and from 7.30 A.M, to 10 A.M. ; overcast,, 
damp, and dull all day ; slight shower at night. 
A wet, cloudy, and cold week.—G. J. Symoks. 
