A BIT OF PRACTICAL FARMING, ETC. 
371 
milk churned early every morning, in four-barreled 
dasher churns, by horse power. It takes twelve 
to fifteen quarts of milk to make a pound of butter, 
which, when sold, averages twenty-five cents a 
pound, and the milk is worth iwo cents a quart. 
When this farmer took us to see his pens of 
handsome Lancashire porkers, that get half of 
their living from buttermilk, we acknowledged that 
it was better to make butter than sell milk ; for, in 
addition to the pork, there was a valuable lot of 
hog-pen manure to make more grass to make more 
butter, and so on a continual round. 
A BIT OF PRACTICAL FARMIMGr. 
We were highly amused while listening to the 
address of P. T. Barnum, Esq., at Bridgeport, the 
other day, at an anecdote he told of his experience 
as a farmer. It is best told in his own words. It 
is about 
Selling Potatoes. —“In the fall of 1848,” said 
he, “ my head gardener reported that I had 80 
bushels of potatoes to spare. So, of course, I di¬ 
rected them sold. They brought 67 cents a 
bushel, But, like most all small farmers, he sold 
the largest, and left us nothing but “ small pota¬ 
toes” to eat at home. But the worst is to come. 
In March, we had not even a dish of small pota¬ 
toes. So we bought more than we sold, and paid 
$1.25 a bushel at that! My experience, therefore, 
is, that a farmer had better ascertain first how much 
he wants for his own consumption, before he sends 
his produce to a cheap market.” 
Trimming Fruit Trees by an Amateur. —Another 
of Mr. Barn urn’s experiments was in the horticul¬ 
tural line, and was related by him with such inimi¬ 
cal good humor, that his large audience was nearly 
convulsed with laughter. “Having been elected 
President of the Fairfield-County Agricultural So¬ 
ciety,” continued he, “ I felt the importance of my 
having a little practical experience as a farmer. 
Having read a little about pruning, and watched 
my gardener a while, I armed myself with a keen 
carving knife and set to work on my own hook. 
My first essay was upon a lot of young cherry 
trees. Half an hour, and my sharp knife gave 
them a very symmetrical appearance, and removed 
all redundant limbs and sap-absorbing sprouts and 
suckers ; and I prided myself somewhat upon this 
first effort as a pruner, and, of. course, expected 
suitable commendation from my gardener for the 
labor I had saved him. Judge my astonishment, 
then, as he approached with a rueful countenance, 
and expression of ‘ Well, sir, you’ve done it now!’ 
‘ Why, yes, I fancy I have. How do you like my 
work V said I. ‘Like it! Why. sir, you have cut 
off all the grafts!!' 1 This was a sad blow to my 
farming aspirations. But as I never despair, I shall 
continue to go ahead with improvements, but shall 
be a little cautious how I use the pruning knife, 
until I learn to know a sprout from a graft. 
“I hope the relation of my experience as a farmer 
won’t deter mady others from seeking the same em¬ 
ployment ; for if they are capable of using the 
pruning knife at all, I think they are capable of 
learning to distinguish, perhaps, at less cost than I 
did, the useful from the useless, and if they did 
not, perhaps a little sprouting, a la mode our young 
days, might help to improve their education.” 
THE FARMER IS NOT PROPERLY ESTIMATED— 
WHOSE FAULT IS IT? 
It is a lamentable fact, that the farmer does not 
occupy that elevated position in society that his 
occupation justly entitles him to. He is looked 
upon as a being quite below the lawyer, physician, 
divine, artist, merchant, or even a merchant’s clerk. 
To be a farmer, is to be a nobody, a mere clodhop¬ 
per, a digger of bogs, and ditches, and dung heaps, 
and free to wallow in the “free soil” he cultivates, 
provided he never seeks to elevate himself above 
that position, to what the world is pleased to term 
“good society.” Hence comes the desire of “the 
boys” to escape, not so much the drudgery of their 
employment, as from the idea that they are looked 
upon and estimated as mere drudges. 
What blindness, folly, and false philosophy is 
this ! The result of these false premises, is, that 
the “professions” are crowded to the starvation 
point; clerks not only go begging, but become 
beggars, or worse; merchants are multiplied, and 
good, old-fashioned labor is going out of fashion. 
While we w T ould give all due honor to the pro¬ 
fessions, the farmer, who is the producer of all, 
both in food and raiment, that adds to the comfort 
and sustenance of the human family, need not feel 
that he is below occupations that gain their support 
from the folly, pride, misery, or wickedness of their 
fellow creatures. 
If the aspiration of farmers ■were half so strong 
to elevate their sons as farmers, as it is to make 
them merchants, or professional men, and, per¬ 
chance, loafers, we should soon be taught to look 
to the agricultural class for the best bred, as well 
as best fed men in America.— Barnum's Address. 
Effect of the N. Y. & Erie Railroad on 
the Butter and Poultry Market. —Fifty thou¬ 
sand dollars’ worth of butter has been shipped on 
one boat from Newburgh, at one time; -while 
twenty to thirty thousand dollars’ worth, as a com¬ 
mon freight, used to be frequent before the Ne.w- 
York and Erie Railroad was completed. This road 
somewhat lessened the freighting business of New¬ 
burgh, but added immense amounts to the New- 
York market of almost everything that is eatable. 
A few years ago, turkeys,'ducks, and chickens 
were hawked about the streets of Owego, begging 
for buyers. But now, if you want an article of 
kthat kind, you had better snap at the first offer, or 
it is off' for New York. And eggs are eggs for a 
surety there now. Railroads are wonderful revo- 
lutionizers. 
Effect of Railroads on the Market.— 
Whether the railroads leading into New York have 
had a tendency to cheapen produce in the city, we 
cannot say ; but certain it is, they have greatly 
enhanced the price at the farmer’s door. We were 
struck with this at Binghamton, the other day. 
The price of poultry has more than doubled. But¬ 
ter is within two cents of the weekly average in 
New York. Venison used to be a common dish 
upon the tables of the quiet villagers of that once 
inland town ; but now they cannot afford to pay 
the two shillings a pound that the city epicure will 
pay in New York, where it can be sent in the 
morning, and served up for supper the same day. 
