422 
THE RURAL WEW-Y0RKER. 
nant water, which to a great extent causes the 
diseases. But when sanitary considerations are 
alone involved, money considerations are with 
the parties interested, of more importance. 
But fortunately in this case, financial as well as 
Banitary measures are united, and the overpower¬ 
ing logic of increased financial returns, induces 
action when all other measures fail. It needs 
little argument at this late day to convince per¬ 
sons that it will pay to drain wet lands ; every¬ 
body admits that, in most cases. It is, however, 
extremely difficult to state just when it will*pay 
to drain upland and when it will not pay. Each 
case will have to be considered from its own stand¬ 
point ; you will have to take into consideration 
the value of your land, the total cost of uuder- 
draining and the probable increase in value of 
your crops. If the increaeo in value of your crops 
will not pay a good interest on the oost of under¬ 
draining, it will not pay to put in drains. But 
I doubt if there is any heavy clay land, except 
it may be above a porous subsoil, but what will 
return to its owner good interest from a liberal 
investment in under-drains. As the value of the 
crop is increased, this percentage of increase 
from drainage becomes of more and more im¬ 
portance, until in some cases the increase in 
crops alone for a single year, will more than pay 
the expense of drainage, or, in other words, your 
investment will repay yon more than 100 per 
cent. 
METHODS OF DEAINING. 
Draining may be performed by open or by 
closed ditches, or under-drains. The method of 
constructing open ditches usually employed is 
shown in Fig. 1. 
Fig. 1. 
Such ditches are neither efficient nor perma¬ 
nent. The proper shape that an open ditch 
should have iu cross section, is shown in Fig 2. 
This form oan usually be made with a Iar.d or 
road scraper, otherwise it will be too costly for 
general adoption. The open ditch is at best an 
unsightly ravine, and it is always more or less in 
fig. 2. 
the way. These objections are of so much im¬ 
portance that it can hardly be considered of any 
practical value to agriculturists, except to 
serve a temporary purpose, or in some excep¬ 
tional cases, where a large area is to be drained, 
to take the place of & natural water-course. 
UNDKB-DKAIN8, 
I shall further consider only the construction 
of under-drains, which I shall denote by the sin¬ 
gle term “ drain " now usually employed for that 
purpose. As drainage is to a great extent an 
empirioal art, I oannot better illustrate the va¬ 
rious processes employed tnan by giving a his¬ 
tory of some of them. 
Drainage by open ditches was no doubt the first 
mode of freeing laud from superfluous water. 
The Roman agricultural writers mention the 
good results arising from covered drains, which 
were formed of wood and other substances, 
which served, bo far, to render the land dry. 
More than a century ago, a large extent of clay 
land was drained at narrow intervals in Norfolk 
and Essex, England, by putting in brush, wood 
and even straw in the bottom of the drains. 
The progross of draining, which is now regardad 
on many soils as essential to economic oulture, 
was slow and partial, until Mr. Smith of Dean- 
Btone, about the middle of the nineteenth cen¬ 
tury, reduced the practice to a system, and 
showed the principles upon which its efficiency 
depended. Through the exertions of this ad¬ 
vocate, thorough drainage came to be looked 
upon, in England, as a necessity on a clay soil or 
iude. d on any soil in a moist climate. Before 
the general use of drain tile, stones were the 
common materials with which drains were 
formed. They were thrown into the ditch 
promiscuously from nine inches to a foot 
in depth, and covered with earth, thus form¬ 
ing a body that water readily passed through. 
Mr. Smith recommended that no stones be used 
for this purpose that would not pass through a 
ring of 2% inches in diameter; or when flat 
stones in sufficient number could be found, the 
stone drains were so laid as to make a box or 
trough through which the water flowed. ThiB 
was found to produce an efficient drain, but iu 
neighborhoods where stones were scarce the 
drain was very costly. 
When tiles or pipes were first used, it was 
thought necessary to have some small gravel or 
stones about them, in order that the water 
might soon find its way into them, but it was 
found out that the drains were as efficient with¬ 
out the gravel, and moreover not as likely to be 
filled with sediment, as the natural soil allowed 
the water to percolate through it slowly, thus 
filtering out all impuritios. Many kinds of pipeB 
or tiles have been used. The flrBt form tried 
was the horse-shoe tile without a bottom. This, 
when laid on the natural ground, soon became 
filled with earth by the rising up of the bottom, 
caused by the great pressure on the sides of the } 
tiles from above- The next improvement in the 
tiles was the addition of a bottom. These were 
objectionable because they left a wide space on 
the bottom and did not confine the Btream flow¬ 
ing through them sufficiently to clean out the 
dirt or silt which accumulated in them. The 
next improvement was the sole tile, which af¬ 
forded a good passage for the water, but was 
objectionable because of the mechanical difficul¬ 
ties of construction, it being hardly possible to 
make them perfect. The sole tile affords a 
cylindrical passage for the water, but has a shoe 
or fiat rest on one side, to lay next the bottom of 
the ditch. The latest improvement in the shape 
of tiles is to m»ke them simple, circular cylin¬ 
ders about one foot in length, aud with walls 
about one-half inch thick. These tiles offer a 
good water-way, and, having a circular section, 
they can be laid any side up; consequently a 
good joint can be secured, even if the tiles are 
slightly warped, as is usually the case. Again 
they are, next to the horse-shoe tiles without 
bottom, the easiest tiles to construct, and con¬ 
sequently the cheapest. Those tiles present an¬ 
other advantage—they can be laid in oollars, 
which are rings about three inches long, which 
pass over the contiguous ends of the tiles and 
form a close joint. 
SIZE OF TILES. 
When tiles were first nsed, it was thought 
that an internal diameter of one inch was suffi¬ 
ciently large for ordinary caseB, but the small¬ 
est tile in ordinary use at the present time has 
an internal diameter of one and one-half inch, 
while the largest is not less than eight inches. 
The size of the tiles to be used should be such 
that all water falling on a piece of land will be 
conveyed away before it has time to injure any 
crops that may be growing on the land. The 
exact time that crops will stand inundating 
without inj ury, depends so much upon the va¬ 
riety of the crop that no definite time can be 
stated. Probably if the water is removed with¬ 
in 24 hours of the time of falling, no injury will 
be done to most farm crops, as in this case, 
water will not remain on the surface of the 
ground to exceed six hours, except in extreme 
showers. On this basis, we can calculate quite 
accurately the size of the tile needed, since we 
cau find, by consulting tables of meteorological 
observations, the greatest rainfall that may be 
expected in 24 hourB, aud if wo so proportion 
our tile as to convey this water off withiu the 
same time, no injury can be experienced by the 
crops. 
In order to find the number of acroB that can 
be drained by tile of a given size descending at 
a given rate, we must know three conditions: 
I first, the amount of water that may reasonably 
| be expected to fall on each acre during am <L»y 
(24 hours) in the growing reason; second, the 
discharge of the drain as compared with the 
rain-fall; third, the capacity of drains running 
full at various inclinations and of various sizes.— 
[To be continued. 
Agricultural College, Lansing Mich. 
Jfaira (Jqjjlcs, 
STUDY ON THE FARM. 
M. OAKEY. 
To every farmer I say: “Be a student.” “ What 
a farmer and a student ?” Yes, certainly, both, 
and the better the student the better the 
farmer. 
I like that word student. In its original 
meaning it signified “ to desire Btrougly,” “to 
be eager for,” and implied the putting in oper¬ 
ation, and diligently using every means to 
secure the end desired. How applicable this iB 
to the farm in all its departments!. It must not 
be supposed that study applies only to books. 
It is true there are many works treating on 
his profession, that the farmer cannot negleot 
or pass over without loss, and the same is true 
of the current agricultural periodicals; they 
should not be slighted. But it is not intended 
that the farmer should turn aside from the field 
and shut himself up in a study, and turn book¬ 
worm. It is the farm above all things else that he 
should strive to gaiu complete knowledge of, and 
that practically. To be wide-awake aud pro¬ 
gressive, however, farmers should obtain all 
information possible from every source, and 
digesting and modifying it, use it as a means 
of enlarging their experience which is too of¬ 
ten confined to only that descending from the 
father. 
But this is only a means to an end. The 
farmer must learn thoroughly his farm. He 
must know its soil; its needs and its adaptability. 
He Bhould be eager to find out in what depart¬ 
ment, or brauoh of farming, he is likely to ob¬ 
tain the best results. He is to study its im¬ 
provement, both iu increasing its production, 
and in itB appearance. A good farmer will take 
pride not only iu obtaining the greatest product 
per acre, but in having the finest-looking farm in 
the neighborhood. In improving its appear¬ 
ance as a farm, he certainly will increase its 
yield. Study the farm. 
Then study the crops. Learn their needs, 
their best mode of cultivation, and the most 
approved implements for their cultivation. 
All these the farmer should be eager to know. 
He should apply to every experience, to exper¬ 
iment, and even to much-abused theory, not 
his own alone but all to which he haB accoss. 
Because a man has raised certain crops all his 
life-time does not prove he kuowB all about 
them, or even that he knows the best mothods 
of treating them. He should desire and strive 
for the beBt, cleanest, and most remunerative 
fields and crops in his community, and no one 
should be able to excel him. This study makes 
more difference with farmers than is generally 
supposed. It has more to do with the success 
of one and the failure of another, than any 
difference iu soil or opportunity. A successful 
farmer must study his stock. Sometimes I 
think a farmer cau be better judged by his 
stock than in any other way. A good farmer 
seldom has poor stock, and, pretty generally, a 
poor farmer seldom owns good stock. The ef¬ 
fect that a man's animals have upon him can 
not be over-estimated. A thrifty farmer will 
not only have good cattle, but he will study to 
know them, their temperament, their habits, 
their needed care, and their income. He will 
learn the safest and surest way of obtaining 
that income from them, and in satisfying their 
wants he will take now interest and pride in 
them because of thoir grateful aud improved 
condition, as a matter of safety and economy'. 
He should study his stock too. I knew a farmer 
of thirty years’ experience who, raising a very 
fine heifer from which he expected something 
better than usual, lost her after her first calf 
because ho did not know, as he said, “cows’ 
bags ever got lumpy, and I did’nt know that any 
thing was the matter until too late, and did’nt 
know what to do anyhow.” 
Nor should farm machinery be slighted or neg¬ 
lected. The farmer should not only know how 
to handle his plow, but he Bhould learn the 
principles involved iu its construction. He 
should comprehend too the superiority of one 
implement over another. It will not do to 
trust to salesmen or their glib tongues, or yet 
to rely entirely on the experience of others, for 
what one will handle intelligently, and success¬ 
fully ,will prove a failure in the unthinking hands 
of another. Iu ti e Frauco-Prussian war it was 
admitted that the chief superiority of the 
Prussians was in their more intelligent use 
of the weapons in their hands. Yet both armies 
were equipped with like implements. 
Nor must farm economy be overlooked. 
Here is a vast field for diligent study and inge¬ 
nuity too. “Tuknow just where a dollar may 
be saved and where invested to produce its 
proper income, is study indeed. The fact is 
that many farmers instead of learning this, 
choose to hoard what few dollars they may 
grasp instead of adding them to their capital 
to increase their revenue. This works badly on 
the farm, for narrow-minded and greedy pc rsi- 
mony is sure to follow. And all the com¬ 
fort and enjoyment that a farmer’s life should 
possess is crushed out by the great weight of 
niggardliness. To savo a few dollars on the 
preparation for a orop, or in its cultivation and 
fertilizing, is not always true economy. Often 
the few extra dollars thus spent render the 
whole crop profitable. The whole question of 
thus spending here and withholding there is of 
vital importance to the fanner and should re¬ 
ceive his best thought aud care. Is it not 
clear that a farmer should be a student ? 
-»+«- 
POETRY ON THE FARM, ETC. 
Norton Hill, Greene Co., n. Y. 
This spring there were some failures among 
the farmers iu this vioinity, and many good peo¬ 
ple lost by them. One of my neighbors re¬ 
marked that they were men that worked too 
much and thought too little, a saying which I 
came to believe was about so, when I thought 
the matter over. They and their families aud 
their hired help had worked night and day, and 
their hands had become calloused with labor 
in carrying on a large business. They had very 
little time to read and observe, or to keep books, 
so that they could know whether their business 
paid or not. It was with pain we saw these bro¬ 
ther farmers of ours go under, hard-working as 
they had been and well as they had struggled to 
build themselves up. There was one case among 
them where our feelings of pity were not so groat. 
The man had a good farm given him and got a 
good property by his wife ; but he had spent the 
golden hours of youth and manhood in trying to 
accomplish nothing, and had,succeeded ; still w© 
mourned his fate somewhat, but as not without 
hope, as he has, since his failure, gone to work. 
Most of the farmers hereabouts are making slow 
but sure progress. Year by year a gradual im¬ 
provement is coming over their homes, thanks 
to their own energy and the agricultural press, 
which most of them patronize and enjoy. 
In a late Rusal I saw a piece entitled “ The 
Poetry of t^e Farm.” 
“ Yes,” said I, as I reviewed in my mind’s eye 
some of the pictures whioh I had seen in the 
good Rural time and again, such as the old 
fogy farmer’s bull iu the spring, the farmer who 
did not know whether it would be best to move 
his barn or the manure pile, and the one where 
the farmer stands in the cottage door at mid¬ 
night, in clothing unmentionable, listening to 
the silver tones of the screech-owl, perched on 
the chimney, “Poetry,” says I, “yes, I have 
heard it sometimes.’’ Said I to myself, “Come to 
think, I heard it when one of my best bogs 
died this spring; when one of my best calves 
feeling so good while frisking joyously about, 
oollided with his mate and broke his neck; when 
coming to plow my corn this spring, I found that 
the crows had dug aud pulled out by the roots 
about one-tenth of one piece ; aud—another 
stanza—when one of my Jersey heifers became a 
confirmed kiokor : yes. there is poetry in farm¬ 
ing, come to tbiuk about it.” 
So I mused, aud just then up ran two rosy- 
olieeked girls, such as can be seen only on the 
farm. “Therein another oouplet,” thought I, and 
looking out of the window my glance fell on long 
lines of apple trees iu full blossom, which father 
and I planted when I was only a littte boy ; then 
going out on the veranda to take the fresh, pure 
air of spring, and hearing the songs of the many 
welcomed feathered visitors that come to us year 
by year, thinks I, “there is another verse or 
two." Looking to the right I see my cattle iu 
the spring grass, happy and contented on the 
hill-side, and the sight was by no means unpe- 
etio. 
Putting on my bat and lighting my pipe, 
“ I guess I’ll feed my pigs,” thought I, and go¬ 
ing to the pen, each of twelve upturned noses 
says “ give me some good sour milk.” By the 
way, a man told me last fall that the best breed 
of hogs he ever had, was a well-filled swill pail 
of nutritious food,—but in those twelve pigs 
were poetry and music. Visions of broiled ham, 
of roast spare-rib, of ham and eggs, and of saus¬ 
age, danced before my eyes, and pleasing 
thoughts came of stomachs .owned by family, 
friends and help, well-filled from those plump 
fellows, Aud to fill up th© measure, twelve tails 
all curled up iu cues, or like old-fashioned musi¬ 
cal notes, on thoir twelve backs. “ Poetry!” said 
I, “yes, even in hogs.” 
Knocking the ashes out of my pipe, and going 
to the barn, I find friends there. There is Old 
Bill, the bay that UBed to carry mv father so 
safely about the country. The hands that used 
to guide him are now quiet, as are those also of 
the driver’s companion, my mother, and Old Bill, 
looking out of those large, honest eyes, seems 
to feel that he, too, is getting old and needs my 
sympathy and regaro, as he gently whinnies and 
says, “good morning." There, too, in a lino 
stand the wagons that have become so familiar 
to us, and in which we have all enjoyed our¬ 
selves often. “Poetry,” says I, “yes, lines of 
gold endeared by thoughts of the past, when 
father and mother, as well as the boys and girls, 
were all at home on the farm." 
Going through the barn to my poultry house, 
I see ducks, geese, hens, especially Guineas, and 
peacocks. But there 1 Hear them all sing to¬ 
gether, and cackle, and gobble, and quack, and 
screech ; and if any man with poetry in his soul 
doesn't feel the inspiring effects of that concert, 
his poetical ideas are of a very dull order. 
Stepping over to my cow-barn, there are the 
open stalls of the cattle that fed here last win 
ter, but which are now filling out their sleek 
hides and enlivening a fine landscape view, vis¬ 
ible from my door-way. If there is anything 
that can find its way into a good farmer's heart, 
it is a good herd of cowh, with well-filled bags, 
pasturing in good clover. For mo there has al¬ 
ways been in cows poetry of a high oi del*. 
Going from, the stables into the orohard, 
“ Popy, is there a-going to be fruit this f ill ?” ask 
my little girls who are with me now. The trees 
give cheei ful promise that we shall have good 
times next winter in passing around golden Pip¬ 
pins and winter pears. Glad am I to see nowadays 
that almost every farmer has a pan of apples on 
his center-table, so that anybody th&t wants 
them may have almost any kind that he may de¬ 
sire from fall until spring. 
Then, there is the dear wife, who still con¬ 
tinues to bear the bnrdeu and heat of the day, 
but whose life is now cheered by the help of her 
boys and girlB, who begin to feel and know what 
mother has done for them. Her step may not 
be as light as it was fifteen years ago, but the 
cheerfulness of the home which she has helped 
to build up aud embellish, sends a ruddy, satis¬ 
fied glow oyer her cheeks, and warms the whole 
household with sunshine and gladuess. Poetry ! 
yes, I have heard it; aud it is in thousands of 
farm homes in this land. Despite all the sin and 
evil in the world, in the majority of farm homes 
poetry, love, virtue, benevolenoe, hospitality 
and charity gladden and cheer all those who 
come iu contact with them, and make gleesome 
poetry on the farm. w. h. i. 
Crop. 
BARLEY ON CLOVER SOD. 
WM. J. FOWLED. 
This year I am trying an experiment in 
growing barley on a newly-turned clover sod. 
It is apparently working so well that I am much 
encouraged to repeat it as often as I have oc¬ 
casion. I had about twonty acres of clover 
last year cut for hay in June, and for seed in 
