1892 
739 
THE  RURAL  NEW-YORKER. 
position  on  a  parity  with  gold;  increase  the  circulating 
medium  to  850  per  capita  by  direct  issue  to  the  people. 
Do  away  with  national  banks,  and  establish  postal 
savings  banks  instead.  Let  the  Government  control 
or  own  the  telegraph,  telephone  and  railroad  systems. 
Let  the  Presidents,  Vice-Presidents  and  United  States 
Senators  be  elected  by  the  direct  vote  of  the  people. 
Let  laws  be  made  and  faithfully  executed  so  that  a 
trust  cannot  exist  in  the  confines  of  this  country. 
Open  all  the  ports  of  the  world  to  our  products.  Give 
us  a  graduated  income  tax,  a  free  ballot  and  a  fair 
count.  Under  these  conditions  the  farmers  could  not 
grow  too  much,  and  farming,  instead  of  being  the 
most  unprofitable  business  of  the  nation,  would  be 
raised  to  its  true  place  among  the  industries  of  the  land. 
Pres.  N.  Y.  State  Alliance.  edwabd  f.  dibble. 
R.  N.-Y. — We  would  like  to  call  Mr.  Dibble's  atten¬ 
tion  to  the  fact  that  on  page  414  he  said,  speaking  of 
mortgaged  farmers : 
It  wrnuld  be  presumptuous  in  me  to  tell  a  poor  farmer 
how  he  could  pay  off  the  mortgage  on  his  farm,  as  I 
have  never  paid  off  one  myself.  I  believe,  however, 
that  I  could  buy  any  good  100-acre  farm  in  my  vicin- 
ity,  say  for  87.000,  run  in  debt  for  the  whole  of  it  at 
five  per  cent,  lire,  and  pay  for  the  farm  out  of  the 
sales  thereof  in  10  years,  and  have  the  farm  in  better 
shape  than  it  is  at  present. 
This,  we  presume,  he  meant  with  the  present  finan¬ 
cial  conditions  of  the  country.  Will  his  proposed 
changes  in  legislation  make  the  American  farmer 
more  thoughtful,  studious  and  business-like.  If  they 
do  not  how  can  he  reach  permanent  success  ?  Is 
the  true  remedy  within  or  without  the  man  himself? 
FIRST  “RUN”  WITH  AN  INCUBATOR. 
EVILS  OF  A  CHEAP  MACHINE. 
I  have  raised  chickens  for  a  number  of  years  and,  as  a 
rule,  have  had  good  luck  if  marauders  were  kept  at  bay; 
but  when,  early  last  April,  I  received  a  letter  from  an 
incubator  man,  making  a  special  offer,  I  confess  I  was 
sorely  tempted.  Visions  of  countless  little  chicks 
floated  before  my  eyes,  and  the  price  of  the  machine 
seemed  moderate.  I  pondered  the  question  and 
finally  referred  it  to  the  head  of  the  family,  lie 
promptly  gave  me  the  coveted  check,  which  I  mailed 
immediately  to  the  incubator  man,  and  then  awaited 
events,  lie  sent  me  a  polite  letter  of  acknowledgment 
and  his  receipt,  with  the  intimation  that  the  machine 
would  be  forwarded  as  soon  as  possible.  Weeks  passed, 
and  not  until  the  last  week  in  May  did  the  machine 
arrive,  and  then  without  the  brooder,  which,  however, 
reached  me  two  weeks  later.  On  setting  up  the  ma¬ 
chine,  as  per  directions,  I  found  that  the  burner  was 
defective.  Everybody  knows  what  a  trial  is  a  burner 
that  won’t  turn  up.  I  had  already  lost  so  much  valu¬ 
able  time,  however,  that  I  determined  to  try  one  set¬ 
ting  anyhow.  I  let  the  machine  heat  up  for  three  days, 
then  put  in  the  eggs  when  the  thermometer  indicated 
the  proper  temperature,  103.  degrees.  I  set  100  hen 
44  duck  and  *21  turkey  eggs.  None  of  us  had 
ever  seen  an  incubator,  and,  of  course,  my  venture 
created  much  curiosity  and  skepticism.  I  have  been 
asked  in  all  seriousness  if  it  was  true  that  this  machine 
hatched  out  the  chickens  in  24  hours.  I  took  great  in¬ 
terest  in  the  enterprise,  followed  every  direction  care¬ 
fully  and  kept  the  heat  as  near  the  proper  degree  as 
possible,  though  I  confess  it  often  went  down  to 
90  degrees,  and,  alas !  more  than  once  up  to  110. 
Early  in  the  game  I  had  the  bad  luck  to  break  my  81 
thermometer,  and  have  since  had  to  get  along  with  a 
cheap  25-cent  one.  I  was  obliged  to  leave  home  just  a 
day  before  the  eggs  were  to  hatch,  leaving  my  older 
boy  in  charge  with  strict  instructions  to  open  the  in¬ 
cubator  only  when  necessary.  On  returning  home,  I 
found  he  had  45  fine  little  chicks  in  the  brooder,  and  a 
week  later  I  took  out  11  ducks  and  2  turkeys,  making 
my  first  experiment  stand  thus  : 
Chickens 
Ducks.... 
Turkeys. 
Set. 
Infertile. 
Hatched. 
Died  in  shell. 
100 
20 
45 
15 
44 
13 
11 
20 
21 
15 
2 
2 
One  would  think  I  would  have  been  discouraged, 
but  I  was  not.  Before  starting  the  machine  again  I 
wrote  to  the  incubator  man  and  appealed  to  his  sense 
of  justice.  I  also  sent  back  the  burner  for  him  to  see 
for  himself  its  defect.  But  he  was  case-hardened  I 
suppose  ;  anyhow  I  had  to  buy  from  him  a  new  burner. 
On  July  25,  I  started  the  machine  again.  It  was  far 
too  late  as  every  old  farmer’s  wife  in  the  country 
assured  me  ;  but  I  had  to  try  again.  This  time  all 
went  well  for  a  week,  when  one  day  I  went  into  the 
cellar  to  look  after  matters  and  was  met  by  volumes  of 
smoke.  I  rushed  to  the  corner  where  my  incubator 
was  set  and  unhooked  the  lamp  and  extinguished  the 
fire  with  all  the  speed  I  could  make,  but  not  before  the 
flame  had  melted  off  the  regulator  attachment  and 
burnt  the  solder  on  the  lamp  in  several  places.  The 
thermometer  was  also  up  to  112  degrees. 
I  confess  I  was  for  a  minute  almost  discouraged.  I 
threw  open  the  doors  of  the  incubator  and  sat  down 
to  weep;  but  the  sympathizing  expressions — “  I  told 
you  so,’’  and  the  looks  of  some  of  the  unbelieving 
elders  of  the  family  soon  restored  my  mental  balance 
and  I  proceeded  to  make  repairs.  I  had  the  lamp 
soldered,  and  concluded  to  regulate  thereafter  by 
the  flame  alone.  I  found  that  by  refilling  the  boiler 
during  the  third  week,  I  could  maintain  an  evener 
heat ;  and  at  the  appointed  time  I  took  out  triumph¬ 
antly  120  as  lively  little  chicks  as  any  ever  hatched. 
I  have  had  many  casualties  since  among  my  flock, 
notably  from  chilling  and  cats;  but  still  next  year  I 
shall  try  it  again,  for  I  maintain  that  it  is  less  trouble 
than  the  old  hen  method  and  three  times  as  interest¬ 
ing.  But  one  fact  I  thiuk  ought  to  be  firmly  grasped 
by  us  amateurs,  and  that  is  that  we  must  have  com¬ 
fortable  quarters  for  our  little  flocks  to  lodge  in.  I 
am  sure  all  that  have  died  have  been  chilled  and  sub¬ 
sequently  overcrowded  and  trampled  upon  by  the 
others.  Another  point  upon  which  I  feel  strongly  is 
this;  never  again  will  I  buy  a  cheap  machine,  how¬ 
ever  guaranteed;  the  repairs  cost  much  and  we  lose 
valuable  time,  and  how  can  we  make  the  incubator 
man  make  good  his  guarantee  when  he  refuses  to  do 
SO  ?  FANNY  E.  DENT. 
A  TYPICAL  SOUTH  DOWN  SHEEP. 
At  Fig.  284,  is  shown  an  excellent  picture  of  a  South 
Down  sheep  from  the  flock  of  Cassius  M.  Clay,  White 
Hall,  Kentucky.  Mr.  Clay  has  bred  these  sheep  for 
many  years  and  his  flock  is  about  the  best  in  the  coun¬ 
try.  There  may  be  sheep  that  shear  more  wool  and 
give  a  larger  carcass,  but  the  South  Down  heads  the 
list  for  quality  of  mutton.  Its  old  English  reputation 
of  “  best  mutton  sheep  in  the  world,”  has  not  been 
lost;  though  as  a  combination  sheep  or  for  specialties 
South  Down  Sheep.  Fig.  284. 
like  early  lamb  production  the  Shropshire  or  Dorset 
may  be  popular.  For  good  mutton,  for  quick  feeding 
and  fattening,  for  “  hustling  ”  on  rough  and  hilly  land 
or  for  crossing  on  the  common  sheep  of  the  country 
the  South  Down  has  a  fine  record  and  will  compare 
favorably  with  any  other  breed.  While  some  of  the 
newer  breeds  have  the  boom  just  now,  the  South  Down 
has  the  bottom  to  last  in  steady  popularity. 
PREPARING  FOR  POULTRY  PROFITS. 
The  profits  of  the  hen  dairy  depend  largely  on  the 
amount  of  eggs  received  during  winter.  It  is  difficult 
to  get  old  hens  to  lay  much  before  January  and  the 
successful  poultry  keeper  must 
Push  the  Pullets  and  get  them  laying  before  cold 
weather.  When  once  fairly  started  they  will,  if  prop¬ 
erly  cared  for,  lay  all  winter,  and  lay  as  many  eggs 
next  summer  as  if  they  had  been  idle  during  the  time. 
The  winter  eggs  are  all  profit.  If  cold  weather  comes 
on  before  they  commence  to  lay,  very  few  succeed  in 
getting  them  to  lay  before  spring.  It  takes  from  four 
to  six  weeks  for  a  pullet  to  fully  develop  and  commence 
laying  from  the  time  her  comb  gets  large  enough  to 
show  signs  of  lopping,  provided  she  is  fully  fed  with 
proper  food.  The  pullets  should  be  separated  from 
the  rest  of  the  flock  and  fed  with  highly  nitrogenous 
food  like  wheat.  The  young  cockerels  can  be  fed  corn 
which  will  soon  make  them  a  mass  of  fat  with  small 
bones  and  diseased  livers.  They  are  then  ready  for 
the  market,  but  such  a  condition  is  not  desirable  in 
laying  stock.  Oats,  wheat,  buckwheat,  bran,  milk 
and  middlings  are  good,  but  one  must  not  forget  that 
Meat  Makes  Muscle  and  should  see  that  they  are 
provided  with  plenty  of  it  and  ground  bone.  I  be'ieve 
the  use  of  meat  hastens  egg  production  and  is  superior 
to  milk  for  that  reason.  Sometimes  in  winter  the 
fowls  have  a  dejected  appearance  and  the  egg  supply 
runs  low.  The  owner  in  looking  for  the  cause  finds 
the  hens  are  lousy.  The  earth  is  frozen  hard  and  no 
dirt  can  be  obtained,  so  he  has  to  let  them  go.  A  few 
hours’  work  now  will  fill  several  barrels  with  fine, 
dry  road  dust  which  will  make  a  very  nice  bath  for 
the  hens  next  winter.  By  its  use  they  cleanse  their 
plumage  and  rid  themselves  of  vermin.  Loose  dirt 
kills  lice  and  insures  health.  It  is  so  dry  it  will  not 
freeze  and  if  freely  used  under  the  roosts  will  absorb 
all  odors.  During  winter,  the  cold  seems  to  pinch  up 
the  fowls  and  they  stand  around  dormant,  almost  life¬ 
less.  1  hey  need  exercise  and  should  be  coaxed  into 
activity. 
Leaves  fob  Loafebs.— If  a  basketful  of  forest 
leaves  are  strewn  upon  the  feeding  floor  and  some 
whole  grain  is  thrown  into  them,  the  oldest  hen  will 
be  transformed  from  a  little  humped-up  bunch  of 
feathers  into  a  scratching  fiend,  full  of  energy.  There 
is  nothing  that  will  give  an  interested  owner  of  hens 
more  pleasure  than  to  watch  a  flock  of  singing,  fight¬ 
ing,  scrambling  birds  as  they  tumble  about  in  a  heap 
of  leaves.  The  exercise  warms  them,  strengthens  the 
muscles  and  gives  them  an  appetite 
Where  large  flocks  are  kept  and  the  roosts  are  on 
the  same  floor,  the  roosts  and  floors  must  be  often 
cleaned.  To  do  this  is  a  good  deal  of  work.  Where 
straw  is  used  for  litter  it  packs  down  and  does  not 
cover  the  droppings,  if  the  least  bit  damp.  It  seem« 
to  gather  moisture,  or  at  least  dees  not  dry  out  any, 
when  once  wet.  Unless  often  renewed,  it  is  a  source 
of  disease  and  keeps  the  feet  of  the  fowls  dirty.  The 
use  of  buckwheat  hulls  will  prevent  the  necessity  for 
all  this.  Last  fall  I  drew  two  large  loads  of  hulls 
and  stored  them  in  one  part  of  the  hen  house. 
I  intended  to  scatter  them  under  the  roosts  in  the  upper 
story,  so  that  all  the  moisture  would  be  absorbed. 
The  hens  began  to  work  in  them  at  once  and  as  a 
matter  of  experiment  I  threw  some  grain  on  the  pile 
which  was  about  two  feet  deep.  The  hulls  were  so 
light  that  the  grain  soon  went  out  of  sight  in  them. 
The  hens  were  working  in  them  all  the  time  and  I 
have  found  nothing  equal  to  them  for  this  purpose. 
In  winter  I  would  throw  down  grain  and  shovel  every¬ 
thing  into  one  big  pile.  A  stack  as  big  as  a  hay  cock 
would  be  covered  with  hens  and  leveled  down  in  a 
few  hours.  The  hulls  were  scattered  through  the 
wire  netting  partitions  and  I  soon  found  that  they 
absorbed  all  the  moisture.  The  droppings  were  rolled 
up  in  them  and  dried.  It  did  not  seem  necessary  to 
clean  up — and  about  a  foot  of  hulls  was  put  on  each 
floor.  From  that  time  till  to-day — one  year— no  clean¬ 
ing  has  been  done.  The  hulls  are  worn  into  fine  dust 
by  the  working  of  the  hens,  but  are  still  dry  and  will 
not  soil  the  hand  if  taken  up.  As  far  as  they  are  con¬ 
cerned,  they  look  as  if  they  would  last  another  year, 
but  I  do  not  care  to  leave  them  longer.  They  can  be 
obtained  free  at  any  country  mill,  and  will  save  a 
good  deal  of  labor  and  straw,  and  are  quite  clean.  I 
do  not  advocate  a  filthy  hen-house.  I  would  clean  as 
often  as  necessary  to  keep  it  sweet,  dry  and  healthy, 
but  I  do  not  believe  in  a  man  serving  a  term  of  slavery 
for  the  sake  of  keeping  up  an  old  whim.  If  by  con¬ 
stant  thinking  and  experimenting  I  can  hit  upon  a 
plan  which  will  give  me  as  good  results  from  four 
days’  work  as  from  .52, 1  shall  relieve  myself  of  48  day« 
of  drudgery.  c.  E.  ciiauman. 
“TAKE  A  DAY  OFF  AND  PLAY!” 
HOW  I  PLAYED  AT  KANSAS  CITY. 
Butterine  Should  be  “  Played  Out.” 
Acting  on  The  Rubal’s  oft  repeated  advice  to  “take 
a  day  off  and  play,”  we  habited  ourselves  in  our  best 
bibs  and  tuckers,  filled  a  generous  hamper  with  fried 
chicken,  cold  tea  and  such  other  knick-knacks  as  wc 
thought  we  might  relish,  fished  up  a  couple  of  dollars 
for  spending  money,  and  on  the  day  of  the  great 
Priest  of  Pallas  parade  took  the  railroad  cars  for  Kan¬ 
sas  City,  and  arriving  there,  the  street  cars  for  the 
exposition  grounds,  race  track,  etc. 
Testing  “Silver-Churn  Butterine.” 
In  the  most  conspicuous  portion  of  the  main  hall  of 
exhibits  and  occupying  no  stinted  amount  of  space, 
the  Armour  Packing  Company  had  a  nicely  fixed 
booth  or  free  lunch  stand  with  this  legend  emblazoned 
in  bright  letters  at  the  top,  “  Silver  Churn  Butterine 
better  than  the  best  creamery  butter,”  and  as  one 
approached  or  passed  by  the  stand  a  well-dressed 
young  lady  hailed  him  with  a  solicitation  to  “test  our 
butterine,”  at  the  same  time  pointing  to  a  plate  of 
diminutive  hot  biscuits  and  a  dish  of  a  substance  resem¬ 
bling  butter.  We  had  never  seen  anything  of  the  kind 
before,  and  I  told  my  wife  she  now  had  a  chance  to  ex¬ 
amine  and  taste  what  The  Rubal  New-Yobkeb  desig¬ 
nated  as  “  hog  butter.”  At  this  unpropitious  remark 
the  young  lady  aforesaid  at  once  took  umbrage  and  we 
