1893 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
475 
(Under this heading we propose to print questions that seem to call 
for a variety of answers. We earnestly ask all who have any experi¬ 
ences or suggestions to offer to talk into The R. N.-Y.'s ear at once - ) 
Will The Rural give me the experiences of prac¬ 
tical men with metal roofing on barns. j. w. w. 
Henryville, Ind. 
Green Manure for Grass. —I propose, after the 
last harrowing of my corn, to sow Scarlet clover, and 
next spring to plow, fertilize and seed to grass—Tim¬ 
othy and clover. My object will be to get a good 
stand of grass. The oat crop is no good as a rule, and 
wheat at present and prospective prices doesn’t pay. 
How will this course do ? m. b chamber. 
Chester County, Pa. 
R. N.-Y.—An answer to this would depend largely 
upon local conditions. What do other Chester County 
farmers say ? 
Some of your readers would he glad to he informed 
hy The Rural or hy practical farmers about the cost 
and efficiency of wire fencing as compared to rails 
and hoards. G. E. H. 
Jonesboro, Va. 
R. N.-Y.—This is a big question and 
needs a big discussion. What do you say? 
About Wind Power. —I want to get a 
windmill for pumping water ; also a feed 
mill to grind feed on the farm. I have 
thought of getting a geared windmill 
to run the feed mill, pump, churn, etc. 
Some farmers tell me such mills do not 
give satisfaction; others say they do 
when properly cared for; what is the 
experience of farmers who have used 
them ? Would it be better to get a 
common windmill for pumping water 
and a horse-power to run the feed mill ? 
Lawndale, Kans. .1. .J. A. 
A Weather Question. —There seems 
to be a popular idea or notion in my 
community that the prevailing wind and 
weather of Easter Day control both for 
the succeeding 40 days. I do not re¬ 
member having seen this question dis¬ 
cussed in any paper. Are the wind and 
weather of Easter Day so related to 
those of the succeeding 40 days as to 
exercise control over them ? If so, why ? 
Wayne Co., Mich. GEORGE smock. 
Observations in an Old Field. 
Four years since I fenced eft' from an 
old pasture a field of about 10 acres, 
nearly level, which had been very thor¬ 
oughly taken possession of by that 
orange-colored moss which seems to be 
peculiar to certain light sons lying upon 
a basis of clay. I did this, not because 
I did not have already more land suitable 
for tillage than I could rightly attend to, 
but because my pugnacity was aroused 
by that intrusive moss, which, however, 
was no doubt filling its use in the economy of 
Nature by occupying land too poor longer to pro¬ 
duce a more valuable crop ; but I could not bear to 
see it or repress my desire to fight it. 
This field was plowed about six inches deep, worked 
thoroughly with a Cutaway, dressed with about 400 
pounds of a good commercial fertilizer to the acre, 
and sown to oats, which, much to my surprise, yielded 
a very good crop. But the moss was far from being 
conquered. It was alive and growing well among the 
oat stubble. The next season this field was replowed, 
a little deeper, and planted to potatoes with about the 
same quantity of the same dressing. These suffered 
somewhat from drought, and gave rather less than 50 
bushels of merchantable tubers to the acre. The 
moss had mostly disappeared at the end of this sea¬ 
son. The next season (1892) with a liberal dressing 
of a strongly phosphatic and nitrogenous fertilizer, 
it was seeded to wheat, with Timothy, Red clover 
and Alsike. There was no reappearance of moss. 
The field, being far from the buildings, was much 
infested by birds, which picked up a good deal of 
the wheat. The yield was nearly 13 bushels to the 
acre; but neither the grass nor the clovers seemed 
to have germinated at all, and when the snow left, 
having covered the field well all winter, there was 
nothing to be seen but the wheat stubble and a few 
small weeds. Having plenty of other work to do, 
and hoping that the grass and clover might yet 
start up, I left it, the moss being apparently quite 
subdued. Late in the spring the Timothy appeared, 
but not very strong, and pretty thin. There was 
but one clover plant to be seen on the whole piece. 
The experienced reader will probably now observe 
that there is nothing very remarkable in this story, 
so far. Nor is there; I should have said that a neigh¬ 
bor, who used from the same lot of grass a- d clover 
seed, has a very good catch. But the “nut ” of the 
business has yet to be seen; and there is where the 
puzzle is, to me. In this field was a large and decay¬ 
ing black cherry tree of our native species—Prunus 
serotina. During the past winte. it was cut down, 
and the small brush was left scattered over the new 
seeding, most of it at a considerable distance from the 
stump, the trunk and larger branches being drawn to 
the house for fuel. Now here comes the curious 
thing—at least to me. This fine brush was left until 
a few days ago—June 15—and where it lay the new 
seeding of grass has made a very strong growth, but 
without a plant of clover among it. This grass is thick 
and stout, and looks as though it had been liberally 
top-dressed with fine manure, of which the rest of the 
field had received none. 
Now I suppose most readers would at once say that 
this light brushwood held the snow, and thus pro¬ 
tected the grass. But the snow came early, and lay 
deep all winter on the whole field. The improvement 
of the grass extends exactly as far as the brush, and 
not an inch beyond. The grass is just as poor between 
the clumps of brush as elsewhere, even where there are 
but two or three feet of unprotected space. About 
the only conclusive fact I have worked out in this 
connection is that we may blame the seedsman when 
he is not blamable. t. h. hoskins. 
Orleans County, Vt. 
THE GARDENING WAYS OF A WOMAN. 
GARDEN STUFF AND CHICKENS. 
Big Crops from a Little Spot. 
My attention has often been attracted to a neatly 
kept garden, about 20x70 feet in size, on the back part 
of a lot on one of the principal streets of this village. 
The chief peculiarity about it is the quantity of vege¬ 
tables constantly growing in it. Throughout the en¬ 
tire growing season the land is r.ever idle. No sooner 
has one crop been removed than the ground is occu¬ 
pied by another, quite as thrifty as the first, and almost 
every vegetable that can be grown in this locality is 
represented. 
Last spring, when my peas were only fairly out of the 
ground, those in this little village garden were a foot 
or more high and rapidly climbing skyward, and it 
was the same with all ether kinds of vegetables; mine 
were at least two weeks later than these. 
Passing by the lot one evening a short time ago, I 
was amazed to see 60 or 70 young chickens chasing 
and frolicking about in front of a wagon shed at the 
rear end of the lot. No hens were visible, yet the 
chicks seemed happy and contented, and were scratch¬ 
ing, picking grass and chickweed, and, apparently, 
were having a special picnic. With visions of skill¬ 
fully engineered incubators and brooders floating in 
my mind, I decided that at the first opportunity I 
would call at the house and learn something about 
them, and especially have a chat with the manager of 
that intensively conducted little garden. I was slightly 
acquainted with the occupants of the premises, Dr. 
Thompson and his wife, so having a little leisure one 
evening recently, I called, and was met at the door 
by Mrs. Thompson, a tall, dignified, well-dressed lady, 
to whom I made known my errand. 
How She Came to Be a Gardener. 
“ Oh, that is my work,” said she, laughing. “ I am 
the chief manager of this ranch. Dr. Thompson at¬ 
tends solely to hi professional duties, and I and my 
daughter raise vegetables and chickens. He doesn’t 
like it a bit, but I do, and that settles it. Besices, I 
am very fond of both vegetables and chickens, and 
want the first fresh and well grown, and like to 
know how the second are kept and what they are 
raised on. Any kind of vegetable taken fresh from 
the garden is 50 per cent better in every respect than 
those bought at the store, while a chicken that has 
been raised on good food and pure water, and amid 
wholesome surroundings, is far better flavored than 
one that has been raised on all sorts of trash and then 
kept in a nasty coop several days.” 
“ Were you raised on a farm, Mrs. 
Thompson ? ” 
“ No, sir. My father was a physician, 
and, before I was married, I guess I 
was a sort of good-for-nothing girl. My 
mother used to tell me that, if I ever 
got a husband, I would starve him to 
death in less than a year ! ” 
“How came you to take up gardening?” 
“ After we were married we lived 
in a town that was composed chiefly of 
Germans, and you know the German 
women are noted for their skill in gard¬ 
ening and raising poultry. Well, for two 
years I did nothing to speak of and was 
more than half sick most of the time. 
My German neighbors had no patience 
with me. They called me “that lazy 
Mrs. Thompson !” This vexed me so 
much that I decided to show them what 
I could do, so I thoroughly informed 
myself from books, catalogues and pa¬ 
pers and the following spring began 
gardening and raising chickens. My 
neighbors followed the old routine 
methods of their forefathers, while I fol¬ 
lowed the instructions of the best gard¬ 
eners in this country, with such modi¬ 
fications, of course, as local conditions 
made necessary. The result was what 
might have been expected—I raised more 
on one rod of land than they did on three, 
and while they were fussing and wor¬ 
rying over less than 100 chickens I raised 
over 500 with scarcely any trouble at all, 
and, what was better, my health im¬ 
proved so much that I felt like working. 
I weighed only 118 pounds when I first 
began gardening, now I weigh 170 and 
am as healthy as any woman in the 
town. When we came to this place it was June 
before we were settled, and I raised but few vege¬ 
tables that season, but I raised a fine lot of August 
chickens—enough to supply us from October to April. 
I do most of my garden work early in the morning, 
some of it before breakfast, and of course I don’t look 
very presentable while at it, but it doesn’t take long 
to fix myself up after I come in.” 
How Much Comes from Little. 
“ How do you manage to grow so much truck on so 
little land ?” 
“ Come this way and I’ll show you,” and she con¬ 
ducted me through her little garden, explaining as she 
went along. 
“ I had this land heavily manured and then partly 
plowed and partly dug over and well pulverized. You 
see that, aside from these narrow paths, there is 
scarcely an inch of space unoccupied. I planted my 
earliest vegetables along this strip, and as soon as 
they were ready for use I set cabbage plants between 
the rows, so the ground will be in use all summer. 
Late peas are planted in those plots farthest from the 
house. You see they are fully five feet high, and 
there are over three bushels of peas on them. There 
are so many more than we need that I shall pick them 
tomorrow and send them to the store. The tomatoes 
are set along the fence so that I can, if I wish, train 
them to it. Sweet corn is over there on the opposite 
side. Here, between the corn and these vegetable 
plots, is a row of early potatoes, many of them now 
almost as large as your fist. Here are snap beans in 
Reprinted by Request. 
