394 
ALBUQUERQUE, NEW MEXICO. 
Another Western Marvel—The Old and 
the New.—A City of Great Promise. 
MKSSRS. HOLMES AND SWEETLAND. 
Special Correspondents of the Rubai, New-Yorkxr.J 
New Mexico is fast losing its appearance 
of antiquity and decay. New blood has been 
infused into its veins through the great artery 
of commerce, the Atchison, Topeka and Santa 
F6 Railroad, and the energetic men who have 
taken hold with a will to make the mighty 
hills yield their uutold wealth, to irrigate and 
cultivate the river bottom soil, to drive the 
spikes for further railroads, to penetrate the 
mountain fastnesses, and to metamorphose the 
clustered collections of adobe houses which 
have existed for many years into cities of 
which any man might be proud to claim citi¬ 
zenship, and which will take their places 
readily as factors of importance in the com¬ 
mercial world. 
Albuquerque is situated 902 miles from 
Atchison, and 918 from Kansas City, upon a 
beautiful plateau near the Rio Grande River, 
having an altitude of 5,006 feet and sur¬ 
rounded upon all sides by verdure-covered 
mountains rearing their enormous crests to 
the skies. It is one of the oldest towns in the 
Territory, and two years ago had a popula¬ 
tion of about 3,000, principally' Mexicans. 
New Albuquerque was laid out in May 1880, a 
month after the advent of the Atchison, To¬ 
peka and Santa Fe Railroad, no lots being sold 
until late in July, but it has since acquired a 
population of about 4,600, two thirds of whom 
are Americans—this includes the east and 
west ends. 
From a statement kindly furnished us by 
the agent of the A. T. & S. F. R. R. we learn 
that the freight receipts at this station for 1881 
consisted of 2162 cars (63,574,806 pounds) of 
which 551 were grain, 323 lumber, 447 coal, 
305 hay, and the balance sundries. The 
shipments for the same time were 276 cars 
of wool and hides and 4.5S0,740 pounds of 
merchandise. There was also a considerable 
shipment on the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad 
the construction of w'hich was begun here in 
July 1880 and now id extends into Arizona, 
purposing to reach San Francisco. 
The city has Methodist, Congregational and 
Catholic church edifices, also Episcopal, Meth¬ 
odist South and Presbyterian societies all of 
which intend to build this year. The cause of 
education is carefully fostered, the Albuquer¬ 
que Academy, under the new West system, 
is managed by a local board of trustees incor¬ 
porated under the laws of the Territory, 
graded from the primary and intermediate to 
the higher branches, embracing in all the fa¬ 
cilities for a clast ical education. Besides 
this the Roman Catholics have a convent 
school recently established in connection with 
their parochial instruction. 
There are Blue Lodge and Chapter of A. F. 
and A. M, the A. O. U. W., including and re¬ 
presenting the better elements of a society 
which is educated, refined and progressive, 
with literary and musical associations. There 
is an active Board of Trade, which includes 
the best business men of the city, for the pro¬ 
tection and promotion of all local interests. 
A pleasant reading-room has been furnished 
for members and visiting strangers. The 
Board is designed to give substantial aid to 
desirable manufacturing projects and answer 
all inquiries. A building association has just 
been organized. There are a telephone ex¬ 
change with 30 or more members; two 
street railways well equipped; a gas company 
furnishing gas at from $3. to $3.25 per thou¬ 
sand; one creditable daily newspaper, the 
Albuquerque Journal, publishing also a weekly 
edition; a large and increasing commercial 
business, and a marvelous amount of per¬ 
manent improvements have been made during 
the last year. 
A company known as the “Albuquerque 
Hotel and Opera House Company ” has been 
organized to build a three-story brick hotel, 
120 by 136 feet., with 100 rooms, to cost $65,000, 
and a spacious Opera House with a seating 
capacity for 600, to be provided with stage, 
dressing-room, scenery, etc.: work was begun 
May 1st. 1882, There are two good flouring 
mills, with six run of stone, a foundry, 
machine and repair shop, the facilities for 
which should be quadrupled to meet the large 
and increasing business dependent upon it. 
It would pay a larger per cent, of profit to a 
competent management thau any other local 
enterprise. There are three brick-yards, and 
as there is an abundance of excellent clay, and 
the city is tending to finer architecture and 
more substantial improvements, there will be 
use for 2,500,000 this season; thus competent 
and experienced brick makers would find a 
profitable opening for business. 
Bernalillo County of which this growing 
city is the principal commercial center, has the 
largest and most extensive flocks of sheep of 
any in the Territory, and those interested in 
this industry in Texas, Colorado, Kansas, 
Nebraska and other States come here in great 
THE R0RA!- K2W-Y0BKIB. 
numbers to purchase, to start or replenish 
their flocks. 
All vegetables are grown in great, abundance 
in the Rio Grande Valley, including the cele¬ 
brated Mexican onioD, while the foot-hills and 
mesas produce splendid Irish potatoes, grapes, 
peaches, pears, apricots, and in fact—semi- 
tropical fruit does well. This subject was 
treated in a former letter at length. There 
should be an added interest taken in dairy 
farming, poultry and market gardening about 
Albuquerque, as prices a re high. At our visit 
milk was 15 cents per quart, butter 60 to 70 
cents per pound, eggs 40 to 50cents per dozen, 
while in the Summer prices range high. 
Commercially Albuquerque holds the key as 
a railroad and producing center to a trade 
from all points of the compass, sufficient to 
make this a large and constantly growing job¬ 
bing point, and already the tributary retail 
trade would sustain and ably support several 
exclusive wholesale houses if conducted upou 
a basis to compete fairly for patronage, and 
there seems no doubt of their early establish¬ 
ment. 
. —-♦ »» -- 
CATALOGUES, &C. 
Experiments with Ensilage, by Professor 
Samuel Johnson, of the Michigan Agricultural 
College. These experiments are the more in¬ 
teresting for we know Professor Johnson had 
no confidence in the system before be tried 
them. The silo used is 14 by 15 feet, and eight 
feet high. It cost to build it $151.80. It was 
filled with corn. Owing to the drought the 
yield was Btnall. The ensilage was weighed 
and gave more than ten tons to the acre of 
ground. The area, was 1 acre, and the entire 
cost of raising the crop and filling the silo was 
$41.81. This is only $2.09 per ton of the ensi¬ 
lage. The anitnal9 fed were of the Short born, 
Devon and Ayrshire breeds, and were cows in 
milk, steers and calves. Tables are given 
showing the amount of feed, the rate of 
growth, and a comparison with stock fed 
on other feed. “The cattle continued to 
eat with relish throughout the experi¬ 
ment. All of the animals were sleek, lively 
and apparently in excellent health at the close 
ot the experiment. ” Compared with other 
feeds the ensilage has a feeding value four 
times the costof growing the crop and putting 
it into the silo. Professor Johnson says ne was 
not at all sanguine wueu he commenced the 
experiment, as to the decided merits of ensi¬ 
lage as claimed by many writers, but he has 
been greatly pleased with the results of the 
experiment. The convenience in handling the 
prepared fodder; the large amount that can 
be stored in a small space; the avidity with 
which cattle eat it and thrive and grow when 
a meal ration is fed with it; the fact that it 
can be stored in a wet lime during lowery 
weather, when fodder could not be cured; the 
furnishing of succulent food at very small cost 
during our long Winters; these are someof the 
reasons that lead him to think that the ensi¬ 
laging of corn, especially, will prove to be a 
practical and profitable method of preparing 
food for stock.” 
California A3 It Is.—This is a book of 
over 200 pages, written by 70 of the leading 
editors and authors of the “ Golden State,” 
and published by the San Francisco Call Co. 
It comprises a history of the State by coun¬ 
ties, ’with a large map, and contains much 
valuable information concerning the agricul 
tural, mining, industrial and educational in- 
terets of the far-western section of the 
United States. It can be obtained for 50 
cents paper, or 75 cents, cloth, of the Ameri¬ 
can News Company. 
Pamphlet of the Pacific Guano Co.; 
Glidden & Curtis, Boston, Mass., General 
Selling Agents. This company owns exten¬ 
sive works in South Carolina and Massachu¬ 
setts. The manufacture of the Soluble Pacific 
Guano was commenced in 1S67, when 750 tons 
were made and put upon the market. The 
sale for the year 1881 exceeded 50,000 tons. 
Pamphlets giving full information, with di 
rections for use, will be forwarded on applica¬ 
tion. 
The Rural Record, A. S, Ochs & Co. 
Chattauooga, Teuu., $1.00 a year. A new 
agricultural journal devoted especially to the 
interest of Sonlbern planters and farmers. 
Handsomely printed, ably edited, interesting 
and practical. 
Special Report No. 42, on Condition of 
Winter Grain and number and condition of 
farm auimals in United States. April 1882. 
Department of Agriculture, Washington, D. C. 
Consular Reports, No. IS, April 18S2, on 
commerce, manufactures, etc, of Consular 
Districts. Published by the State Department, 
Washington, D. C. 
Programme of Field Triax. of Agricul¬ 
tural Implements on June 6, 1882, at Grand 
Rapids, Michigan, on farm of M. L. Sweet. 
Circular of the Mudgktt Hav Tedder 
with improved fork. B. & J. W. Belcher, 
Chicopee Falls, Mass. 
THE STORY OF STONY BROOK FARM. 
HENRY STEWART. 
(Continued from page 379.) 
CHAPTER II. 
An abandoned farm! There is something 
very mournful about that expression. What 
a story of disappointments; of regrets; of 
separations; of mothers’ tears; of fathers’ 
sorrow; of bonds of affection torn asunder; 
of young men sadly departing towards the 
setting sun weighed down with the misery of 
parting from parents and home, but yet buoyed 
up with hope and ambition and promise of an 
early return to redeem the old homestead from 
desolation. But alas! these hopes and promi¬ 
ses are never fulfilled. As a cion, torn from 
its native branch, becomes fixed to its new 
stock and there grows and flourishes, so these 
young offshoots of Eastern homesteads be¬ 
come rooted in their new Western homes, never 
to return again. And the old folks, bereaved 
of their children, slowly and sadly wither 
and decay, mourning over their loneliness 
and the gradual degradation of their homes, 
until they go down wearily, but gladly to the 
grave as to a resting place. The old house 
opens its doors for the last time as they are 
borne out to their final and long home aud 
closes them with a hollow sound echoing 
through the deserted rooms, and the history 
of a lifetime is ended. 
Then th9 farm, like a derelict wreck upon 
the ocean, becomes the sport of the elements. 
Winds dash the old shutters from the window 
frames; overturn the old trees; the fences go 
down; the beating storms wash out the paths 
and gully the slopes; the meadows become 
tufted with sedges and moss; bushes and briars 
invade the fields; moss covers the roofs; na¬ 
ture begins to reign over the old farm, giving 
to it a wild and desolate appearance; and the 
boys who gather the fruit from the old orchard, 
go round about, rather than pass near the old 
house, the creaking shutters and the rattling 
shiugles of which bring to their minds appre¬ 
hensions of unearthly thiugs which they dread 
to see or hear. 
And so the old farm remains, year after 
year, vainly seeking a purchaser “for less 
than the cost of the buildings.” New England, 
which has chiefly planted the great West aud 
has sent its 30 ns and daughters to occupy that 
vast land of promise and make a great em¬ 
pire of it, has many such abandoned places. 
Wrecks they are. suggestive of past useful¬ 
ness and significative of present decay; but 
still promising a new life by aud by, when a 
new generation enters into possession and a 
new life begins. Rexurgam might be written 
upon the gate posts. For it is not possible 
that the soil which has for two centuries pro¬ 
duced and supported a thrifty and industrious 
people, should remain unoccupied forever, al¬ 
though it has not the promise of the rich virgin 
fields for which it was abandoned. It is a part 
of our system. As the mother country was 
abandoned for this New England, so this was 
left for the new West; and the new West 
is now, in its turn, left for the still newer 
and farther West. So the wave rolls and rolls, 
but like a tide it is followed by another wave, 
which flows in its place and in its turn follows 
the 9 ame course. And this recurring tide is 
even now rising. For one by one the abandoned 
homesteads are falling into new hands; new 
energies and fresh, vigorous industries are 
restoring the old homes, and refertilizing the 
old fields; and nature once more gives way to 
labor and art and skill; retiring willingly, and 
smiling as she leaves. 
Such a history is attached to the Stone House 
Farm. It occupied a part of a high plateau 
of rolling land which encircled a lovely se¬ 
cluded valley that lay spread out like a map 
below it. Beyond, the surrounding hills ap¬ 
proached so closely as to form a gap or notch 
through which appeared an extended view of 
a larger valley with the Housatonic river 
winding through it in the distance. 
The rolling plateau sloped gently to the low 
grounds, aud was formed of smooth, grassy 
knolls with level meadow land between them, 
through which small spria ;s and rivulets 
flowed. The Stone House Farm was the only 
part of the high land that was cleared. On 
either side the hills, rocky and covered with 
timber, formed the wood lots of the farms 
lower down. The house was near the t p of 
the ridge, and from the front of it one looked 
down on the valley, the brook which flowed 
through the middle of it and through the gap 
over the valley beyond, until the extended 
view was shut in and obscured by the haze. 
In front of the house was the old garden. 
Climbing roses covered the old porch and 
clambered over the roof and adorned the 
chimneys, from which extending sprays loaded 
with bloom nodded and swayed, as if in wel¬ 
come to the chance visitor. A bed of myrtle 
spread over the pathway and wandered to the 
cellar windows, the purple blooms peering in 
throngh the broken panes; clumps of roses ran 
wild among tall weeds, aud morning glories 
covered the old, tottering garden fence, and 
wound themsel ves about the shelter over the 
well and the still remaining old well rope. 
The old oaken bucket still stood inside the 
curb, fallen apart and with the hoops rusted 
away. Ta 11 grass covered the walks and thrust 
itself up through the chinks between the stone 
door steps. The weather-beaten barns, still 
sound and serviceable, and still surmounted 
by a weathercock which creaked as the wind 
moved it back and forth, were surrounded 
with a dense growth of burdocks and pigweeds 
which reveled in the remains of old mauure 
piles. The orchard beyond the barns was a 
mass of sprouts ani young seedlings grown 
up, self sown, from fallen fruit; a dense, tan¬ 
gled grove. The fields were covered with 
patches of brush and dewberries, and between 
these the dense, thick sod was kept closely 
grazed by the neighboring cows, which came 
in from the adjoining woodlands. The mead¬ 
ows had become overgrown with tussocks of 
coarse sedge and a thick growth of poison 
sumac and weeds common to such low ground, 
wound and hound themselves into a wild tangle 
which was almost impenetrable. The once 
broad ditches were almost filled and stagnant, 
and water cress and other aquatic vegetation 
filled them to the brim. 
Across the meadow the old field had grown 
up with young timber, which trespassed upon 
the wood-lot mainly occupied by handsome 
spreading beeches. The largest of these were 
covered with lettering cut in the bark, some 
of which told a tale of boyish affection for 
the old place and the fivorite old tree. “G. 
W. H., 1844. Good B\'K;”was marked con- 
snicuously in a ring around one of the largest 
and sh idlest trees, aud under it could still be 
deciphered the words— 
"DEAR 
OLD 
TREE,” 
although the wounded bark had almost closed 
over some of the letters. 
A rustic seat had stood around this beech, 
aud the cedar branches of which it had been 
made, lay as they had fallen from their places, 
and were half covered with dead leaves. The 
old post and rail fence was neirly all down; 
the few posts which yet stood and the rails 
which yet remained attached to them, were 
covered with moss and lichens, or were wound 
about with vines or hidden in clusters of black¬ 
berry canes. 
S icb was the scene which appeared to the 
Bates family as they, with their adviser, Uncle 
John, first visited their newly-acquired pos¬ 
session. 
Emily confessed that it was far from pre¬ 
possessing from a practical point of view, but 
love!} r and enchanting otherwise. George was 
counting the cost of the needed renovation. 
Dr. Bates was amused with the novelty of the 
affair, and Uncle John stood with his hands 
thrust deep into his pockets and glanced here 
and there with a very tnoughtful expression. 
Mrs. Bates was not iu the party. 
“Well, George, where are you going to 
begin,” asked his father, “ and what is it going 
to cost!” 
“ I should say, begin with the house; repair 
it and make it habitable; then repa ir the barns 
and stables; repairing is all they want. Then 
put up the fences. The next thing is to clear 
off the brush and clean up the fields; then 
clear the meadow, open the old drains and get 
them into good grass again. In the meantime, 
keep what fev cows the place will support, sell 
the milk to the creamery down l elow, or make 
butter; and in time—perhaps in four or five 
years—the old place will be restored to life 
and vigor again. What do you think of that, 
Uncle John? I have been applying your prin¬ 
ciples to the business.” 
“ I don’t think you could do any better. If 
you do all that is necessary to be done at once, 
you must have several men and spend money 
by the bushel. 
What a pity the place could not be left as 
it is. Look at that wild garden, see that 
gorgeous old rose covering half the house 
with flowers aud the old well with those morn¬ 
ing glories all over it. And these delicious 
wild strawberries all over the meadow,” 
“ But the old house is all mildewed and 
moldy Emily, and the old well is decayed and 
the cows will trample the strawberries and 
where will you get the motley to buy a pair 
of gloves with if you dou’t have some hay to 
keep your cows through the Winter” said 
Uncle John. Ltusgo said Mr. Bates. “The 
council of war is closed. We have felt the 
enemy and know what is required to overcome 
it. George’s plau is sound i think, at leart it 
won’t cost much, aud one man to work on the 
place will do a great deal at a small expense 
iu a year aud three or four cows will bring in 
a few dollars to help pay the expenses. But 
where is the man? and where is he to be put, 
Uncle John.” 
[To be continued .] 
