1892 
THE  RURAL  NEW-YORKER 
5o7 
A  Barnyard  Comedy. 
Some  animals  seem  to  have  a  keen  sense  of  fun,  and 
when  they  are  in  good  spirits,  play  jokes  upon  each 
other  or  on  their  attendants,  that  make  much  sport. 
If  all  the  doings  of  the  barnyard  folk  could  be  written 
out,  we  should  have  some  lively  literature,  but  it  is 
only  now  and  then  that  a  reporter  is  present  at  such 
frolics. 
The  pictures  on  this  page  illustrate  a  comedy  that 
was  really  played  in  a  Michigan  barnyard. 
This  yard  boasted  of  a  remarkably  lazy  and  good- 
natured  heifer.  They  just  couldn’t  make  her  exert 
herself,  and  the  farmer,  his  wife  and  son  and  the  Ger¬ 
man  hired  man  took  pride  in  showing  her  off  and 
praising  her  mild,  gentle  disposition — just  right,  they 
thought,  to  make  a  big  milker.  One  evening,  the 
farmer's  son,  a  big  oaf  of  a  fellow,  went  to  milk  the 
cows.  While  he  was  milking,  that  gentle  heifer  came 
and  deposited  herself  right  in  the  door  where  she  lay, 
chewing  her  cud  and  regarding  his  operations  with 
great  satisfaction.  The  boy  milked  his  pail  full 
and  went  to  pour  it  into  the  can.  But  the  heifer 
wouldn’t  get  up — though  he  kicked  her,  and  hit  her 
with  his  stick.  She  just  lay  there  and  regarded  him 
with  mild  surprise.  He  had  to  empty  his  pail,  so  he 
proceeded  to  clamber  over  her.  Just  as  he  got  well 
astride  of  her  back,  that  mild-mannered  heifer  went 
through  a  complete  transformation.  She  jumped  up 
quicker  than  a  deer,  and  tore  around  the  yard  at  a 
pace  that  would  have  shamed  a  race  horse.  The  boy 
clung  to  her  as  best  he  could,  with  his  hat  off  and  the 
milk  spillirg  at  every  jump.  His  mother  screamed, 
and  the  hired  man  talked  in  three  different  languages. 
After  running  three  laps  around  the  yard  the  heifer 
gave  an  extra  high  kick,  and  landed  her  rider  head 
over  heels  on  the  manure  pile.  Then  she  suddenly 
stopped,  and  turned  around  to  look  at  him  in  dull 
wonder  as  much  as  to  say,  What  is  all  this  about 
anyway  ?  ”  She  seemed  so  innocent  and  good-natured 
that  there  was  no  use  in  beating  her,  and  the  boy 
could  do  nothing  but  change  his  clothes  and  go  on 
with  his  work.  Whether  it  was  fright  or  genuine  fun 
that  started  the  heifer,  nobody  will  ever  know. 
How  I  Became  an  Ensilage  Convert. 
From  Corn  Field  to  Cow’s  Mouth. 
P.  H.  MONROE. 
Why  We  Tried  It. — When  I  began  thinking  about 
ensilage  and  silos,  seven  or  eight  years  ago,  it  ap¬ 
peared  to  me,  from  what  I  could  learn  by  reading  the 
experience  of  those  who  had  built  and  used  silos,  that 
I  could  not  afford  to  adopt  that  way  of  feeding,  be¬ 
cause  of  the  great  expense  of  building  a  silo ;  still  I 
determined  to  make  the  attempt. 
I  had  a  20-acre  field  of  “  Pride  of  the  North  ”  Corn 
that,  owing  to  excessively  dry  and  hot  weather,  would 
yield  an  unprofitable  commercial  crop,  and  I  decided 
to  use  it  for  feed.  About  the  middle  of  August  it  was 
wilting  badly  and  ripening  prematurely  in  places,  so 
with  the  self-binder  we  cut  and  bound  half  of  it  and 
placed  the  bundles  in  large  shocks,  drawing  them 
tightly  together  with  half-inch  rope  and  windlass,  and 
binding  them  with  twine.  We  then  cut  and  bound  the 
rest  of  the  field,  and  had  the  crop  all  shocked  by  August 
25.  Some  of  the  ears  were  in  the  “  milk,”  some  in  the 
“  dough  ”  stage,  and  some  slightly  dented.  Could  we 
build  a  silo  ?  We  would  try  ! 
A  Silo  in  the  Hay. — The  bents  of  the  barn  are  12x14 
feet  on  either  side  of  the  driveway  the  whole  length 
of  the  barn.  Selecting  one  in  which  tools  were  then 
stored,  we  took  out  the  floor  of  2x8-inch  plank  resting 
on  2x8-inch  joists  which  held  the  floor  two  feet  from 
the  ground.  Four  or  five  dollars  were  then  invested 
in  wire  spikes  and  nails,  a  barrel  of  cement,  a  trowel 
and  a  load  of  sand.  In  a  short  time  we  had  the  walls 
tight  and  smooth,  the  bottom  hollowed  out  in  the  mid¬ 
dle  and  the  earth  packed  next  the  walls.  On  the  floor 
overhead  was  Timothy  hay,  which  filled  four  bins  clear 
to  the  roof.  With  a  liay-knife  we  cut  through  this  to 
the  floor,  leaving  the  sides  as  straight  and  smooth  as 
possible,  and  took  out  the  floor. 
The  barn  posts  being  8x8  inches,  we  found  our  2x8 
plank  just  right  for  girders,  which  we  toe-nailed  in 
on  three  sides  up  to  the  second  floor.  On  the  fourth 
side  were  girders  four  feet  apart,  to  which  were  nailed 
the  weather-boards  of  the  barn  ;  here  we  put  a  girder 
in  each  four-foot  space,  clear  to  the  plate — 20  feet.  We 
now  had  a  frame  for  the  first  story  of  the  silo — 19  feet 
high  from  the  ground  on  two  sides  and  22  feet  on  the 
other  two.  Boards  surfaced  on  one  side,  20  feet  long 
and  one  foot  wide,  were  then  procured,  jointed  and 
nailed  to  the  girders — full  length  on  the  two  high  sides 
and  cut  in  halves  for  the  others.  A  3x6-foot  door  was 
placed  at  the  most  convenient  corner,  and  our  silo  was 
completed  for  that  year,  the  Timothy  hay  forming  the 
walls  on  two  sides  of  the  second  story. 
A  Ross  ensilage  and  fodder  cutter,  14  A,  with  a  20- 
foot  elevator,  and  a  St.  Albans,  Vt.,  two-horse  tread- 
power  were  then  purchased  for  .15250.  The  power  was 
set  on  the  ground  floor  and  the  cutter  on  the  second 
floor,  with  the  elevator  running  to  the  purline  plate 
to  deliver  the  cut  ensilage  over  the  center  of  the  silo. 
Everything  was  properly  adjusted  by  September  20. 
When  the  work  began,  the  machines  ran  smoothly, 
the  corn  had  cured  nicely  without  mold,  and  the 
bundles  were  handled  with  ease.  The  weather  con¬ 
tinued  favorable  and  soon  the  silo  was  filled.  No  more 
tramping  was  done  than  was  necessary  to  keep  the 
surface  of  the  ensilage  fairly  level  ;  it  settled  wonder¬ 
fully  but  did  not  heat  up  to  the  orthodox  temperature, 
and  the  question  arose,  Will  it  keep  ?  When  it  had 
settled  enough  to  accommodate  a  few  more  loads,  they 
were  added,  until  October  2,  when  we  cut  about  two 
tons  of  straw,  spread  it  over  the  ensilage,  and  the  job 
was  finished.  At  Christmas  the  straw  was  removed 
for  bedding  and  about  a  foot  in  depth  of  dry,  moldy 
ensilage  with  it ;  the  rest  had  kept  perfectly  and  was 
eaten  by  the  cows,  with  absolutely  no  waste,  clear  to 
the  ground.  There  was  sufficient  moisture  in  the 
ensilage  to  swell  the  boards  of  the  silo  so  that  the  joints 
seemed  as  tight  as  those  of  a  barrel.  After  the  hay 
which  had  served  as  the  silo  walls  had  been  disposed 
of,  girders  were  put  in  and  boarded  to  match  the  other 
sides. 
For  six  seasons  this  silo  has  been  filled  with  different 
varieties  of  corn  at  different  stages  of  maturity,  and 
the  ensilage  has  been  fed  out  with  no  more  waste  than 
I  have  observed  in  that  taken  from  silos  which  cost 
four  or  five  times  the  price.  It  shows  no  signs  of 
decay  and  was  so  satisfactory  in  every  way  that  after 
two  years’  use,  an  adjoining  bent  was  fitted  up  in  the 
same  manner. 
Varieties  and  Planting.— After  trying  different 
varieties  of  corn  for  ensilage,  I  have  decided  that  the 
“  B.  and  W.  Ensilage  Corn”  is  the  best  for  my  use  in 
dairy  feeding.  It  seems  well  adapted  to  our  rich  soil 
and  our  seasons  are  long  enough  for  it  to  mature  suf¬ 
ficiently  for  the  silo.  It  yields  from  30  to  40  tons  an 
acre,  with  well-eared,  slightly  dented  kernels,  that  re¬ 
main  comparatively  soft ;  and  the  large  stalks  with 
their  thick,  leathery  leaves  retain  their  sweet  juices 
and  green  color  after  several  degrees  of  frost,  giving 
us  a  longer  season  in  which  to  fill  our  silos  with  rich, 
succulent  ensilage  without  hurry  or  extra  help. 
The  common  field  varieties  of  corn  ripen  and  harden 
very  quickly  after  the  kernels  begin  to  dent  or  glaze, 
and  the  first  frost  withers  the  plants  and  greatly  de¬ 
tracts  from  the  value  of  the  ensilage  unless  hurried 
quickly  into  the  silo. 
I  plant  the  corn  in  drills  three  feet  ten  inches  apart, 
and  nine  inches  apart  in  the  drill.  This  is  thick 
enough  and  as  thin  as  it  is  safe  to  plant  because,  after 
planting,  we  harrow  the  field  before  the  corn  appears 
and  again  after  it  is  up  with  a  Thomas  smoothing  har¬ 
row,  and  some  of  the  plants  are  torn  out,  so  that  a 
thinner  seeding  would  leave  a  poor  stand.  I  have 
sometimes  replaced  the  missing  plants  and  found  that 
a  perfect  stand  nine  inches  apart  would  yield  a  weight 
of  over  five  pounds  a  plant ;  when  the  field  was  allowed 
to  grow  as  the  harrow  left  it,  many  plants  attained 
the  weight  of  11  or  12  pounds.  I  now  plant  as  above, 
and  do  not  worry  about  the  few  missing  plants  re¬ 
moved  by  the  harrow. 
(To  be  Continued.) 
Horticultural  Gossip. 
A  new  raspberry  is  wanted — so  says  The  Rural  in 
a  recent  issue,  voicing  the  fruit  growers  of  the  Hudson 
River  region.  Let  me  suggest  as  a  factor  in  the  work 
of  producing  this  new  berry,  that  the  old  Philadelphia 
may  be  wisely  used.  The  berry  is  not  large  nor  hand¬ 
some,  but  the  plant  is  very  productive,  and  has  more 
vitality  to-day  than  any  other  I  am  acquainted  with. 
I  know  15-year-old  plantations  where  the  plants  are  as 
vigorous  and  productive  as  ever.  If  we  could  get  the 
vigor  and  productiveness  of  this  variety  united  to  the 
size  of  the  Cuthbert,  we  would  have  a  most  acceptable 
sort.  The  necessity  for  something  new  no  one  can 
deny.  Who  will  give  us  the  new  berry  ? 
Readers  of  The  Rural  who  are  interested,  will  be 
wise  in  looking  about  for  black  knot  on  plum  and 
cherry  trees  and  if  they  find  it  they  should  go  to  the 
supervisor  of  their  town,  if  in  this  State,  and  have  a 
commissioner  appointed  under  the  law  passed  by  the 
last  legislature,  whose  duty  it  will  be  to  see  that  the 
scourge  is  properly  dealt  with.  All  over  the  country 
there  are  people  who  need  the  prod  of  a  wholesome 
law  before  they  will  take  the  pains  to  destroy  this 
disease,  which  is  as  dangerous  to  the  orchards  of  their 
neighbors  as  to  their  own. 
About  five  or  six  years  ago  some  one  sent  me  a  plum 
tree,  purporting  to  be  Shippers’  Pride.  The  second  or 
third  year  it  bore  a  few  plums,  when  I  discovered  that 
a  mistake  had  been  made  and  that  it  was  only  a  worth¬ 
less,  wild  variety.  I  cut  off  the  limbs  the  next  spring 
and  grafted  it  to  two  or  three  different  sorts.  The 
grafts  grew  finely — too  finely — and  now  my  tree  has 
become  top-heavy.  The  grafts  are  free-growing,  the 
stock  seems  the  reverse,  and  the  trunk  and  roots  are 
insufficient  to  carry  the  top,  which  leans  first  one  way 
and  then  another,  as  the  wind  blows.  I  shall  have  to 
dig  it  out.  The  wedlock  between  these  two  stocks  is 
not  a  success. 
For  several  years  I  have  used  the  Deacon  lettuce  to 
the  exclusion  of  all  others.  It  gave  the  best  and  finest 
heads  and  excelled  all  others  in  its  habit  of  standing 
until  late  in  the  season  before  it  sent  up  its  seed 
stalks.  I  recommended  it  to  my  neighbors,  some  of 
whom,  seeing  my  fine  lettuce,  followed  my  example 
and  planted  it.  To  be  sure  of  having  good  seed,  I 
bought  it  this  spring  of  Mr.  Harris,  of  Moreton  Farm, 
who  I  believe  was  its  introducer — but,  alas  !  I  am  in 
disfavor  at  home  and  among  my  neighbors.  Contrary 
to  its  usual  habit,  as  soon  as  transplanted,  it  immo« 
