7oo 
THE  RURAL  NEW-YORKER. 
Oct.  29 
ha  !  ha  !  “  Ain’t  this  a  lark.  Blackberries  till  youi 
belly  aches.” 
What  makes  the  difference  in  the  two  boys  ?  Their 
training.  One  has  had  his  wits  sharpened  by  contact 
with  necessity,  while  the  other  has  been  dwarfed  by 
overcare.  The  one  has  learned  to  reason  from  effect 
to  cause. 
“  What  is  that  ?  ”  said  I  pointing  to  a  mowing  ma¬ 
chine.  lie  had  never  seen  one  and  was  puzzled,  but 
too  sharp  to  own  it.  “  The  knives  will  cut.  There  is  a 
place  to  hitch  on  horses.”  Then  as  he  found  a  spear  of 
grass  fast  to  the  knife-bar  he  triumphantly  exclaimed, 
“  It  is  to  cut  grass  with,  with  horses.”  The  other  has 
learned  nothing  but  to  depend  on  ma.  The  one  as  he 
gets  older  will  create  opportunities.  The  other  could 
not  tell  one  when  he  saw  it.  When  they  get  big 
enough,  if  the  one  were  put  to  work  with  the  oxen  he 
would  vote  them  too  slow  and  trade  for  a  team  in  less 
than  a  week.  In  less  than  a  month  he  would  have  the 
boards  off  that  house  in  the  picture  and  replace  them 
with  a  roof  that  would  not  leak.  The  other  would 
never  find  out  any  other  way.  Which  one  of  these 
boys  do  you  want  yours  to  be  like? 
*•  Why  don’t  you  take  your  eggs,  butter  and  potatoes 
to  town  and  retail  them  to  private  customers  ?  Make 
a  market.  You  can  get  a  third  more  for  them,”  I 
urged  upon  a  poor  young  farmer. 
‘  1  can’t  sell  anything.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  was 
never  allowed  to  say  my  soul  was  my  own,  and  I  never 
got  over  it,”  was  the  reply.  When  he  has  anything  to 
sell  he  crawls  into  some  wholesale  house  and  meekly 
takes  any  price  offered  and  gets  out  as  soon  as  possible. 
The  sharp  buyer  knows  “his  class”  and  beats  him 
every  time. 
A  farmer  near  here  has  a  son  26  years  old  who  is  a 
steady,  intelligent  young  man,  but  the  father  has  got 
so  used  to  managing  that  nothing  is  done  until  he  has 
given  directions.  They  ship  butter  to  New  York  every 
week  by  express,  but  the  son  has  never  taken  a  tub  to 
the  express  office  alone.  He  goes  along  and  drives, 
but  the  father  seems  to  think  he  must  go  to  give  ship¬ 
ping  directions.  Suppose  the  father  dies  to-morrow 
and  the  responsibility  of  the  entire  estate  is  thrown 
upon  the  youth.  He  might  pull  through  ;  but  how 
much  better  would  it  be  to  give  him  practice  while  the 
father  is  alive,  to  guide  and  counsel  with  him.  Pre¬ 
cept  is  good,  but  practice  makes  perfect.  When  I 
scolded  the  hired  boy  for  leaving  the  team  without 
hitching,  he  replied  : 
“You  left  them  yesterday  and  I  thought  it  would  be 
all  right.”  Men  are  only  boys  grown  tall.  They 
nearly  all  vote  as  father  did.  How  great  the  parents’ 
responsibility  in  such  a  case.  Last  winter  I  took  a 
drive  with  a  farmer  and  his  son.  The  latter  drove 
the  horses.  I  could  not  see  but  that  they  were  well 
and  carefully  driven,  yet  the  father  was  continually 
finding  fault  and  “  nagging”  the  boy. 
“Can’t  you  keep  those  horses  straight?  Come, 
why  don’t  you  turn  out  now  ?  Look  out  for  that 
team;  don’t  you  know  enough  to  take  the  road  ?  Why 
don’t  you  keep  out  of  that  rut  ?  ” 
The  boy  stood  these  and  other  similar  fault-findings 
as  long  as  he  could  and  then  burst  out  .with,  “  I  wish 
you’d  drive  these  horses  yo  ax  self  if  you  don’t  like  the 
way  I  drive  them.” 
Then  the  father  felt  called  upon  to  deliver  a  long 
lecture  upon  insolence  and  a  son’s  duty  till  the  pleas¬ 
ure  of  our  ride  was  ruined  and  we  never  felt  pleasant 
over  it  again.  Now  do  you  suppose  that  boy  will 
feel  that  he  should  stay  on  the  farm  ?  Not  much  ; 
he  will  see  that  he  gets  out  of  farming — and  gets  out 
as  fast  as  possible,  too.  He  will  gladly  leave  the 
farm  and  family,  soon.  Adverse  criticism,  harshly 
given,  makes  the  boys  run  to  town.  What  does  the 
labor  of  man  amount  to  without  hope?  If  one  works 
along  all  summer  without  much  thought,  raises  poor 
crops  and  keeps  poor  stock,  what  is  there  for  a  boy  to 
be  proud  of  or  induce  him  to  take  hold  ?  If  he  can’t 
have  that  promised  paper  because  you  let  that  last 
crop  of  bugs  eat  up  the  potato  vines,  he  is  soured  by 
unrealized  expectation,  one  of  the  hardest  things  to 
bear.  Do  not  blame  him,  blame  yourself,  if  he  has  a 
desire  to  get  away  from  home.  Did  you  ever  see  a 
mother  bird  trying  to  get  the  little  ones  to  take  their 
first  flight  ?  She  sits  on  the  edge  of  the  nest  and  tells 
them  of  the  wonders  to  be  seen  in  the  great  world  be¬ 
yond  ;  flutters  her  wings  to  show  them  how  to  fly  and 
flits  from  nest  to  branch  and  back.  They  are  afraid 
to  try,  but  she  gently  pushes  them  to  the  edge  of  the 
nest,  but  they  cling  tightly.  She  twitters  away  to 
them,  cheering  them  up,  and  urging  them  to  try  it. 
Two  young  men  who  were  here  helping  me  for  a 
day,  stayed  to  dinner.  When  they  began  to  eat  their 
share  of  the  big  Cuthbert  berries  their  manner  gave 
me  more  satisfaction  than  my  dinner. 
I  heard  one  remark  as  they  were  going  back  to  the 
field,  “  I  wouldn’t  mind  working  on  a  farm  if  I  could 
get  such  berries  to  eat.”  Not  one  farmer’s  family  in 
ten  have  had  a  berry  on  their  table  this  season.  Give 
yourself  a  punch  ;  study  new  methods  ;  clean  up  the 
premises  ;  set  out  a  variety  of  fruit ;  make  home  at¬ 
tractive  ;  give  the  boy  a  share  in  something  and  see 
that  he  gets  it.  Like  the  mother  bird,  be  wise  enough 
to  push  the  youngsters  out  before  they  get  old  enough 
to  run  away,  and  be  kind  enough  to  make  them  return 
should  they  do  so.  c.  e.  chapman. 
HOW  TO  TAKE  UP  BARBED  WIRE. 
To  take  up  barbed  wire  is  a  most  disagreeable  duty 
that  has  to  be  done  on  most  farms  where  a  temporary 
fence  has  been  thrown  around  a  crop  for  a  year  or 
two.  Those  who  have  done  it  by  winding  it  back  on 
the  spool  by  hand,  have  torn  and  lacerated  the  latter, 
which  have  been  very  sore  for  days,  so  that  they  detest 
the  name  of  barbed  wire.  But  it  is  easy  to  build  the  sim¬ 
ple  frame-work  shown  at  Fig.  271,  and  screw  it  through 
the  sills,  A,  A.  to  the  bottom  of  a  milk  cart  which 
most  farmers  have,  and  put  the  spool  on  the  crank,  C, 
which  lifts  out  of  the  slot,  E ;  then  one  man  pushes 
the  cart  and  another  turns  the  crank,  and  the  taking 
up  of  any  amount  of  wire  is  a  pleasure  and  not  a 
painful  duty.  The  upright  pieces,  B,  B,  are  framed 
to  lean  ahead  so  that  when  the  cart  handles  are  raised 
for  pushing  the  frame  stands  perpendicularly,  and 
when  at  rest  the  weighted  spool  rests  ahead  of  the 
center  so  as  not  to  upset  the  cart.  m.  h.  c.  Gardner. 
THE  “  IFS  ”  OF  SUCCESSFUL  FRUIT  CULTURE. 
NO  SUCH  THING  AS  HOMEOPATHIC  MANURING. 
Talks  with  Practical  Men. 
[EDITORIAL  CORRESPONDENCE.] 
Talks  with  practical  men  in  any  field  of  horticulture 
are  always  valuable  to  those  who  are  in  pursuit  of  in¬ 
formation.  The  hundred  thousand  readers  of  The 
Rurai.  cannot  talk  with  any  given  grower,  and  so,  to 
bring  about  a  general  diffusion  of  the  ideas  of  practi¬ 
cal  men,  it  talks  for  them  and  prints  its  notes.  One  of 
The  Rural  staff  recently  visited  Mr.  E.  Williams, 
of  Montclair,  N.  J.,  when  grapes  were  ripe,  and 
strolled  through  his  vineyard,  taking  notes  of  what  he 
saw  and  heard.  Mr.  Williams,  as  our  readers  doubtless 
know,  is  among  the  veterans  of  horticulture,  and  his 
opinions  are  entitled  to  the  greatest  consideration.  He 
is,  first  of  all,  thoroughly  conscientious  in  his  state¬ 
ments,  slow  to  applaud  or  condemn  new  varieties,  and, 
back  of  this,  he  has  for  the  craft  of  horticulture  an 
enthusiasm  which  makes  his  ideas  of  public  interest. 
We  found  him  busily  engaged  in  cutting  and  packing 
fruit  for  his  trade — a  trade,  by  the  way,  which  knows 
a  good  thing  and  is  willing  to  pay  for  it. 
“  How  old  is  your  vineyard  ?  ”  said  The  Rural. 
“  The  bulk  of  it,”  said  Mr.  Williams,  was  planted  in 
1880 — a  few  experimental  vines  were  planted  two  or 
three  years  before  and  a  few  have  been  added  sjjice.” 
“  How  many  Niagara  vines  have  you  ?  ” 
“  Two  hundred  and  fifty.” 
Poor  Show  for  a  New  Vineyard. 
“  If  you  were  going  to  plant  a  vineyard  of  five  acres 
to-day,  what  varieties  would  you  plant  ?  ” 
“  I  would  not  plant  it.  This  little  vineyard  covers 
about  an  acre,  and  has  about  600  vines  and  about  30 
pear  trees  on  it.  1  would  not  plant  another  vine  for 
profit,  unless  I  could  find  a  variety  that  would  ripen 
out  of  season,  when  there  were  no  others  to  be  had, 
or  one  the  fruit  of  which  could  be  kept  without  trou¬ 
ble  for  late  markets.  With  our  present  glutted  mar¬ 
kets,  I  find  it  difficult  to  dispose  of  my  crop  at  satis¬ 
factory  prices,  and  it  is  becoming  more  so  every  year. 
Were  it  not  for  my  efforts  and  partial  success  in  pro¬ 
ducing  a  first-class  article  and  catering  to  a  class  of 
customers  who  can  appreciate  something  better  than 
a  Concord,  I  should  be  compelled  to  abandon  the  busi¬ 
ness.  What  would  I  do  with  a  larger  plant?” 
“  It  is  claimed  by  some  that  grapes  are  profitable  at 
two  or  three  cents  per  pound,”  said  The  Rural. 
“  Yes,  I  know  it,  but  people’s  ideas  of  profits  vary 
very  widely.  At  such  prices  my  profits  would  be  in¬ 
visible.  Why,  sir,  if  I  had  lo  depend  solely  on  hired 
labor,  I  firmly  believe  that,  with  fertilizers,  packages, 
taxes,  etc.,  the  crop,  good  as  it  is,  would  bring  me  in 
debt.  Now,  an  answer  to  your  question  would  depend 
on  several  ‘  ifs, ’  viz  :  if  I  had  suitable  land  for  the  pur¬ 
pose,  if  efficient  labor  could  be  had  at  reasonable 
wages,  if  I  were  sure  of  a  good  market  at  prices  that 
would  justify  such  a  venture,  and  if  I  were  a  younger 
man  with  my  present  experience  as  a  guide,  I  might 
possibly  venture  to  entertain  such  an  idea,  but  these 
conditions  do  not  exist.  I  was  called  a  lunatic  when 
I  planted  the  Niagara  portion  of  this  vineyard,  but,  if 
I  had  planted  four  times  as  many  as  I  did,  I  would 
have  realized  the  profits  while  prices  were  up  and  could 
afford  now  to  leave  the  market  to  others.” 
What  Varieties  With  The  “Ifs”  Knocked  Out? 
“  Well,  laying  aside  all  the  “  ifs”  you  name,  what 
would  be  your  answer  to  the  question  asked  ?  ” 
“  Well,  with  all  due  deference  to  your  poor  opinion 
of  the  Niagara,  it  has  been  my  most  profitable  variety, 
and  Brighton,  Aminia,  Lindley,  Wilder,  Merritnac, 
Herbert,  Cottage  and  Worden  I  prize  as  among  my 
best,  though  Woodruff  Red  has  done  exceedingly  well 
this  season.  It  has  cracked  very  little  and  it  is  so 
handsome  and  attractive  in  appearance  that  it  catches 
the  customer’s  eye  and  sells  well.  In  quality,  it  is  far 
too  poor  for  my  eating.  These  would  comprise  the 
leading  kinds  I  should  rely  on  in  such  a  venture,  with 
the  addition  of  Green  Mountain.” 
“  What  about  Pocklington  ?  ” 
“  It  has  too  much  foxiness — native  aroma — it  cracks 
and  rots  so  badly  as  to  be  worthless  with  me.  I  regard 
it  as  the  poorest  grape  I  have,  the  Champion  possibly 
excepted.” 
“  Have  you  El  Dorado  ?” 
“  Yes,  a  single  vine,  but  it  is  very  unsatisfactory  as 
a  setter.  The  vine  grows  well  and  promises  well  in 
bloom,  but  I  have  not  yet  learned  how  to  supply  the 
c  inditions  of  perfect  fructification,  which  I  sometimes 
see  in  specimens  at  our  exhibitions.  If  I  could  learn  this 
and  make  it  yield  even  a  fair  crop,  I  should  value  it 
highly.” 
“  Suppose  there  was  a  good  demand  for  Rogers’s 
Hybrids  at,  say,  five  cents  per  pound,  could  you  grow 
them  profitably,  now  that  spraying  renders  it  possible 
to  grow  them  ?  ” 
“  Possibly  I  might,  though  I  would  not  care  to  try 
the  experiment  in  my  present  locality  and  surround¬ 
ings;  I  should  want  to  grow  them  largely  and  have  the 
demand  sure  and  certain.” 
“Which  o'  them  do  you  find  to  succeed  best  with 
you  ?  ” 
“  So  far  as  I  have  tried  them,  I  prefer  Lindley, 
Aminia,  Wilder,  Merrimac  and  Herbert.” 
“  Which  of  the  more  recent  additions  to  the  list  do 
you  consider  most  promising  ?  ” 
“  Green  Mountain,  Colerain,  Brilliant — this  is  the 
order  of  ripening.  In  quality  I  am  not  quite  certain 
yet,  but  think  the  order  should  be  reversed.  I  need 
another  season’s  trial  in  order  to  decide.” 
“  What  have  you  to  say  for  the  Eaton  ?” 
“  I  have  not  yet  succeeded  in  getting  such  clusters 
as  were  shown  at  the  Boston  meeting  of  the  American 
Pomological  Society  in  ’87,  but  I  have  the  quality  and 
it  is  too  poor  for  me — disappointing.” 
“  I  see  you  bag  your  grapes.” 
“  Yes,  I  bag  them  all.  It  calls  for  a  good  deal  of 
labor  and  expense,  but  it  is  a  good  insurance  policy.” 
Big  Doses  of  Fertilizers ;  Big:  Taxes. 
“  What  fertilizers  have  you  used  in  your  vineyard 
and  how  much  ?” 
“  Commercial  fertilizers  entirely — bone,  muriate  of 
potash,  etc.,  800  to  1,200  pounds  is  generally  recom¬ 
mended  as  sufficient,  but  I  can’t  use  it  in  such  homeo¬ 
pathic  quantities.  In  1885  I  used  2,200  of  ground  bone; 
in  1886  1,200  pounds  of  commercial  fertilizers  of  dif¬ 
ferent  kinds ;  in  1890  2,200  pounds  of  high-grade 
brands  and  this  year  a  half  ton  of  odorless  phosphate 
and  672  pounds  of  high-grade  muriate  of  potash.  I 
vary  the  application  so  that  if  one  doesn’t  suit,  I  hope 
another  will.  I  have  not  yet  discovered  any  data, 
short  of  expensive  quantitative  analyses  of  the  soil,  by 
which  I  can  determine  the  specific  brand  I  need.  I 
use  something  every  year.  ” 
Peaches  and  Pears. 
“  A  word  about  peaches  :  If  you  were  going  to  plant 
a  peach  orchard  to-day,  what  varieties  would  you 
plant  ?” 
“  Mountain  Rose,  Stump  Dey,  Oldmixon,  Crawford’s 
and  Ford’s  Late  ” 
