4884 
709 
PRIZE ESS KY .— Class I. 
THE EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 
A. H. PETERS. 
If 20 boys between the ages of 12 and 15, 
sons of well-to-do American parents, were 
asked what occupation they intended follow¬ 
ing, probably 15 of them would answer that 
they didu’t know. In this there would be no¬ 
thing strange, for. although every one born 
into the world can perhaps do some one thing 
better than another, yet, with the exception 
of a very few, the bias indicating what any 
one is best fitted for, is so faintly marked that 
no one can distinguish It, least of all the oue 
whom it most concerns. Upon oue point, 
however, the 15 boys would be decided—they 
must do that by which they can get the most 
money. Every nation, in the present state of 
human society, is certain to contain an aris¬ 
tocracy—a fortunate few who are regarded 
by the many as the standard of excellence, to¬ 
ward whose example they are irresistably 
drawn. With us this aristocracy is one of 
wealth; the persons whose position the ordi¬ 
nary man most envies are the great merchants, 
manufacturers, and projectors who at present 
control the destinies of this nation; conse¬ 
quently, to be at the head of some great indus¬ 
trial enterprise has been the ambition of pret¬ 
ty nearly every American boy of activo tem¬ 
perament for the past 25 years. Because agri¬ 
culture is not a business in which they can 
expect to enrich or distinguish themselves, is 
then a strong reason why, quite likely, not 
one of the 20boys would say, “I propose to be 
a farmer.” 
But, back of this, they would be influenced 
by another reason, in every society that has 
heretofore existed the class lowest in the social 
scale, as well as in education and intelligence, 
has bocu the earth tillers—not the earth-own 
ers, hut the wretched helots.serfs and fellaheen 
who have sown and reaped through succes¬ 
sive generations for the bare privilege of 
reproducing themselves and keeping body and 
soul together. We are the first nation where¬ 
in it has been possible for the land-tiller to he 
at the same time a land-owner. The main 
theory of our system of government is the pro¬ 
tection and elevation of lubor; but. in spite of 
its political emancipation, the social emanci¬ 
pation of labor is well nigh as far off as ever. 
Wherever is found unremitting bodily toil, 
there also will bo found coarseness, credulous- 
ucssand ignorance, which, when accompanied 
by poverty, are characteristics of the bottom 
round of society. There is a vast amount of 
cant afloat concerning the elevating influence 
of labor. Protracted hard labor, buck-bend¬ 
ing, leg-wearing toil does not elevate; it de¬ 
grades. It blunts men's flue instincts, und 
turns their minds into a waste, leaving them 
no recreation except sleep, riot or debauchery. 
It is this legacy of past degradation, and the 
existence yet, to a great extent, of an allevi¬ 
ated form of the same estate, that cause the 
world in generul to speak disparagingly of 
the sons of the soil. I am far from asserting 
this to be the universal condition of American 
husbandmen. What 1 do assert is that, in a 
great measure, the condition of our agricul¬ 
tural life is such that practical farming is 
held by the majority of peopleto be butasorry 
occupation, lit ODly fortbose who can do noth¬ 
ing else,and nowhere js this opinion more prev¬ 
alent than among farmers themselves. 
It is needless to say that to those who pro¬ 
fess this opinion, the question we are consid¬ 
ering is of little concern, unless they can re¬ 
form themselves, of which they are probably 
incapable. So long as a man’s ideal of success¬ 
ful farming consists in drudging from dawn till 
lied time, wearing dirty clothes, and eating 
fried pork; his children will have as little re¬ 
spect for bis calling as they have for himself, 
and should tbeir forlornchildhoodbethemeans 
of making them successful money gatherers, 
as it often is, yet those unhappy days, like 
the memory of a hideous dream, will rise be¬ 
fore them in the midst of their prosperity and 
fill them with horror and disgust. 
Intelligent and thoughtful farmers, how¬ 
ever, those who regard themselves not as 
drudges and beasts of burden, but as obser¬ 
vers of the laws, and directors of the forces of 
nature, who are quick to sieze upon improved 
methods and everything that economizes 
human labor, such, I believe, can do much to 
correct the popular idea regarding husbandry, 
and infuse into their children an appreciation 
of those advantages which rightly belong to 
it. I do not wish to be understood as saying 
that the sons of farmers should be always 
bred to their father’s calling. A wise parent 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
endeavors to ascertain the bent of his child’s 
genius. A bookish boy, a boy with a marked 
taste for one of the useful or ornamental arts, 
or a boy with a decided propensity for dicker¬ 
ing, ought, if [Kisxible. to follow the life work 
that accords with his inherent inclination. If 
he does not, he will be pretty certain to in¬ 
dulge that inclination to the neglect of what¬ 
ever else he may depend upon for a subsist¬ 
ence. I speak not so much of these excep¬ 
tional cases, but of the average boy who has 
no particular bent for anything except play 
and the having of a good time. 
In the first place, don't try to make a man 
of your child while he is a boy. If you force 
him to irksome and fatiguing employment, he 
will perform it but indifferently; his heart is 
on his play. Let him have his play-spell, to 
which he is as much entitled as the boy whose 
father is not a farmer, ’l'is but for a few 
years, and ’twill never come to him again. 
During his school-days, remember he cau 
learn more from you than be can from his 
books. Show him the curiosities and variety 
of plant life; the action of heat and cold; of 
water and sunlight; the habits of different 
animals. He must needs see these; If, however, 
you explain them without an accompanying 
illustration, he will forget the story before 
you have done telling it. Never reprove him 
for asking what appear to be silly questions; 
they are not silly to him; boys resent uu un 
merited reproof quite as much as men. When 
he puts away childish things give him occa¬ 
sional employment on his own responsibility. 
Don’t tell him how to do everything he sets 
about. He will ask you, providing he doesn’t 
think he knows how. No matter if the work 
be done in a wrong way, he will then he con¬ 
vinced of it, while if you toll him beforehand, 
perhaps he wilt not believe you. It is bettor 
for him to fail alone, than to succeed under 
your supervision. Encourage him to simple 
experiments and show him the results of your 
own. Impress upon him, by your own ex¬ 
ample, the importance of detail; order and 
system are generally more distasteful than 
burd work. Let him have some interest of his 
own, though never so small, in the increase of 
the furtu—a few chickens, a pig, or the fruit 
from two or throe a pple trees, the proceeds of 
which shall be his own, to do with as he 
chooses. The '•‘my lamb and father’s sheep’’ 
fiction is worse than no lamb at all. It wou’t 
do to promise him something when lie becomes 
a man—that is a loug way off to him. Above 
all, treat him us a companion, not us a hire¬ 
ling or Hunky. Substitute we for I in discuss¬ 
ing your plans, and ask his opinion now and 
then before giving your owu. Attention to 
these things is a small matter to you, but a 
great mutter to him. A hoy brought up under 
such influences in a congenial home, whatever 
be his occupation, will forever afterward look 
back upon a happy spring time of life, a pos¬ 
session which will, with perhaps one excep¬ 
tion, more than anything else keep him as a 
man from yielding to the temptations lie must 
certainly encounter. 
Finally, for the three or four years previous 
to hi3 majority, and so long thereafter as he 
remains under your roof, your son must not 
lie considered, us differing only in slight de¬ 
gree from a hired man. I would like, did the 
limits of this article permit, to remark upon 
the changes that our labor system has under 
goue in the last generation, and the percept¬ 
ible enlargement of the line between employ¬ 
er and employed. Sufficient to say that such 
a change has taken place, and that you cannot 
enter Into any relation of master and servant 
with your son which he will not more or loss 
resent. 1 speak not of the manner of educa¬ 
tion, because the object sought depends almost 
entirely upon home training ; nor do I offer 
any opinion upon tnemost prudent method of 
starting the young man for himself, which Is 
fraught with many difficulties; neither of these 
properly belongs to our theme,and both are of 
sufficient importance for separate considera¬ 
tion. 
Were we to substitute for the twenty boys 
the same number of girls, does any one doubt 
that all of them would prefer a business or 
professional man to a farmer for a future hus¬ 
band. They would be influenced by much the 
same reasons, founded as they are upon social 
distinction, the desire for which is stronger m 
women than in men. Moreover, it is often 
true, that, as Tboreau says, •’the prosperity 
of the farmer is still determined by the degree 
to which his barn overshadows his house.” 
Wheu 1 think of the number of men in pos¬ 
session of fair incomes, well supplied with 
labor-saving appliances, and with barus ar¬ 
ranged to the best convenience, yet, who are 
outrageously neglectful of similar appli¬ 
ances aDd conveniences in their dwellings, 1 
wonder that the divorce rate of the Union has 
increased no farther than it has. Surely, 
there is ‘‘something grimly wrong in this.” 
Of almost equal importance are those habits 
of personal neatness and manners, neglected 
by many well-to-do farmers, which are so 
justly dear to the female heart. Too many re¬ 
gard good manners as they do good clothes, 
something to he used only away from home. 
I honestly believe that, next to a vicious and 
depraved parent, nothing more disgusts a sen¬ 
sitive child tbau the practice of that most con¬ 
temptible maxim, that “anything is good 
enough for home.” What would be thought of 
a physician who should return from his class 
at the hospital, dash a little water on his 
hands and sit down to dine with his family in 
his dissecting gown ? 
Yet I know farmers whoso overalls and 
manure-soaked boots are a common accom¬ 
paniment of the morning or mid day moal. 
Everything that reduces friction between 
people, in the household or anywhere else, 
serves to restrain our natural irritability. Let 
the despiser of manners remember this, for 
beneath the smooth surface of civilization still 
exists a survival of the same ferocity that 
filled the breasts of our barbarous ancestors. 
Farmers as a class are more derelict in this 
respect than men of other professions. Is it, 
oris it not, anecessary belonging to their occu¬ 
pation? I must allude to another thing that 
rankles in the hearts of farmers’daughters—the 
practice of boat ding one or more laboring 
men aud making them members of the family 
at table. The American girl will wait with 
good grace upon her father and brothers, but 
wheu she is asked to do the same service for 
the hired farm hands, she revolts in spirit if 
not openly. Why should the family of the 
farmer undergo this infliction any more than 
the families of those of other occupations ? 
Let, ns have more regard for these tilings 
which compose the amenities of life. Depend 
upon it their neglect causes more unhappiness 
than poverty does. . 
To lu-lng this about we must have more 
leisure and see more of the world than we do. 
.Judge A. and the Rev. B. have each a vaca¬ 
tion every year, but who ever hears of the 
farmer’s vacation. We must have time to 
read something beside the newspaper,and to 
think of something beside the operations of the 
farm. We should lie more social. The fami¬ 
lies of rural communities have little iuior- 
eourse save that which revolves about the 
church. These things would raise the standard 
of intelligence, aud intelligence is power. Then 
will the conduct of this nation pass from the 
lawyers, manufacturers and speculators who 
now monopolize it, into the hands of the pro¬ 
prietors of the soil,to whom the government of 
every uutiou naturally and properly lieiongs. 
PRIZE ESSAY. ^Class X. 
W. W. FARNSWORTH. 
POTATO CULTURE. —HOW TO PRODUCE A MAX¬ 
IMUM YIELD OF POTATOES WITHIN 
PAYING LIMITS. 
This last sentence is of my owu adding; for 
while it is very interesting and instructive to 
know how unusually large crops may bo pro¬ 
duced by extra effort; yet the generality of 
potato growers will not care to increase the 
yield beyond the point where an increase of 
oue bushel, would cost more than that 
bushel is worth. Here the producer will stop, 
unless he is a philanthropist who is experi¬ 
menting for the benefit of humanity, or is 
striving to “beat his neighbor.” I place the 
Rural Editor in the first class, although I 
will not say that he has carried his oxperi 
meats beyond the paying point. 
Potatoes can be profitably raised on a va¬ 
riety of soils, though my experience goes to 
prove that a sandy loam or gravelly soil is the 
most favorable. Whatever the composition 
of the soil, it must, be thoroughly drained, 
either naturally or artificially, aud it should 
contain sufficient humus to prevent it from 
becoming hard or sodden. These conditions 
are usually found in soils recently cleared, 
and while stumps aud roots make the cultiva¬ 
tion more difficult, the hutnus and potash de¬ 
posited in the soil by the decay of leaves for 
ages past, make a rich, mellow, lively soil, 
and the comparative freedom from weeds 
helps to make “new ground” desirable for po¬ 
tato growing. But as we cannot always have 
a field cleared to order when we wish to plant 
a crop of potatoes, we are obliged to look 
somewhere else for our potato ground. 
I have obtained the best success with clover 
sod. In sandy ground, l would spread twenty 
to twenty five large loads of stable manure on 
the sod as soon after mowing as possible; then 
let the rains carry its fertilizing properties in¬ 
to the soil in solution, so that by the time we 
are ready to plow, the fertilizer is intimately 
commingled with the soil, more so than if 
applied as a top-dressing immediately after 
plowing; and.as.de from this, the manure can 
be drawn at leisure times between haying and 
Spring, (the sooner after haying the better;) 
whereas, the application of it after plowing, 
in Spring, consumes much valuable time 
when we can ill afford it. Wood ashes and 
superphosphates, however, I would apply 
after plowiug. I would harrow in 50 to 100 
bushels of unleached wood ashes per acre; 
where these cannot be economically obtained, 
potash in some other form can generally be 
used with profit. The clover sod will supply 
quite a quantity of potash— nn element highly 
essential to the successful growth of potatoes. 
I have rover used much commercial fertiliz¬ 
ers, having always been able to secure enough 
stable manure and ashes. 
In case the white grubs are troublesome, it 
is better to grow some other crop (corn for 
instance) the first year after a sod; then ap¬ 
ply the manure as soon as the corn can be 
removed, aud plow the next Bpring. Were 1 
attempting to grow potatoes on a clay soil, I 
would plow the ground late in t he Fall, and 
apply the manure, if flue, immediately after 
plowing; and, if coarse, as long before as 
possible. 
Where a clover sod is not obtainable, I 
endeavor to plow under a green crop of some 
kind; rye cau be sown the previous Fall, and 
will make a good growth before it will be 
necessary to plow for late potatoes. Where 
early potatoes are preceded by wheat, oats, 
or any crop maturing at mid-summer, Hun¬ 
garian Grass or ludian corn can be sewn und 
plowed under. 
I prefer planting in drills, especially for the 
later crops, as wheu hilled up, a continuous 
ridge does not dry out us quickly as detached 
hills, and, besides, it is quite certain thut, a 
larger yield per acre can be obtained from 
drills. The distance apart to plant, should be 
governed somewhat by the variety planted, 
strong-growing kinds requiring more room 
than others. I think a good general rule is 
to umbo the rows three feet apart, and put the 
pieces from 12 to ltf inches apart, with two 
eyes on a piece. Should the soil be in a very 
high state of fertility, perhaps even less seed 
would bo better. 
T generally select smooth, even-sized seed, 
and use the entire potato; begin at the stem 
end, and cut from outside to the center, fol¬ 
lowing around the potato towards tho seed 
end. 
As to flat or hill culture, so much depends 
on tho soil, season aud variety, that It is very 
difficult to determine which is preferable, I 
usually hill mine moderately, with a winged 
shovel plow, which makes broad, fiat hills; 
but iu dry, sandy soils, where tho seed can lie 
planted deep, and especially in dry seasons, it 
is not advisable to make much, if any, hill; 
and if hilled at all, tho hills should be broad 
und flat. 
Lucas Co,, Ohio, 
-♦ ♦ 
RURAL PRIZE ESSAY.— Class IV. 
THE BEST CATTLE FOR THE DAIRY AND THE 
SHAMBLES. 
MRS. L. FISHER. 
Is this a subject for a lady to discuss? Shall 
my opinion be considered competent on this 
topic? Hist! Methinks 1 hear some one 
say, “A woman—a woman!” It is ever thus. 
I sit and gaze dejectedly into the fire; but my 
mind wanders out into the Blue Grass pasture 
to a little herd of sleek, glossy Devons, each a 
beauty and prize in herself Was it not my 
hand that gave each one its first lesson in self- 
maintenance, and continued to instruct it 
until it needed help no longer, and the same 
with its motlier and grandmother before it? 
Aud was it not the same hand that, petted and 
goothed the fears of each young heifer at her 
first milking? As l think of all this 1 gain 
courage, and 1 feel—yes, 1 feel that the spirit 
moves me, and I have a call to speak. 
We have kept a dairy for niutiy years, and 
have owned a good many rows, always milk¬ 
ing from 10 to 20 until tho last year or so; and, 
after long years of close attention to this 
business, we have discarded from our dairy 
all but the Devons, fiuding them more pro¬ 
fitable for all purposes tbau any other sort. 
Now I will endeavor to state, as plainly as 
possible, some of the many reasons why we 
have found them so. 
First—for beauty; their color being a rich 
red, and tbeir horns very white; their noses 
white or yellow; their limbs eleuti and deer¬ 
like; hips broad, bodies round and heavy; 
skiu soft, waxy, golden. What can be more 
beautiful than a herd of such cows? I have 
heard it said—probably by some prejudiced 
person—that the Devons gave a small quanti¬ 
ty of milk. Such is not the case with ours, 
as any of them, if she lias good food or pas 
ture, will fill a wooden pail with very rich 
milk at each milking, while some we have 
owned would do even better than that. Every 
ouu who has kept many cows, knows what a 
difference there is in milk at skimming time. 
The cream of some cows will be thin aud oily, 
and the milk blue and watery. The cream 
from a Devon, if managed rightly, is thick 
and dry; it cun bo loosened from the pan and 
rolled over with the skimmer in a roll, and 
lifted from the pan free of milk, while the 
skimmed milk will be thick and yellowish, in- 
