Vol XLII. No 1734. NEW YOKK, APKIL 21, 1883. price five cents 
_____ $2.00 PER YEAR. ^ 
Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 1883, by the Rural New-Yorker, in the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.] 
£* nt ry ho]4 
<l\)t tHtmja.riX 
BAGGING GRAPES. 
How, Why and When to Do It. 
S. Marvin 
Having been one 
of the first to use 
this process I con¬ 
clude that by it 
we gain partial 
exemption from 
rot and more or 
less exemption 
from the depreda¬ 
tions of birds and 
boys, and com¬ 
plete exemption 
from sun-scald. 
The process, however, retards ripening; but 
tends to preserve the fruit from injury by 
wind aud frost. In climates where rot in the 
berry is to bo counteracted, I should bag when 
the fruit was not more than one-third grown. 
Further north, defer the operation until the 
grapes commence to color, so os to hasten ri¬ 
pening. Grapes in bags muy hanguntil after 
heavy frosts. Then, if picked and stored with 
the bags on, in a cool place, they come out 
during TV inter ripe and more delicious than 
by any other process. No. 1 bags of standard 
size are large enough for Delawares; Nos. 2 
low it to receive a pin; fold the cornel's tightly 
to keep water out. A small hole should be 
punched in the lowest corner of the bag to let 
out any water which may get in. Wo use 
bags, size Nos. 2 and 4, according to the num¬ 
ber of clusters to go in a bag; two or three 
clusters eau often be put in one bag. 
We bag grapes for many reasons, among 
which arc the following:—To protect them 
against rose-bugs and other insects, rot aud 
birds; to insure a beautiful artificial color, 
and to preserve bloom; further, riponingiu the 
shade promotes excellence. Ou late varieties 
the bags keep off the frost to perfect maturity. 
The bags also prevent early varieties from 
shriveling. 
There are other benefits, but bagging subjects 
the fruit to serious damage in certain cases— 
long rain storms which keep the fruit damp iu 
the bags for many days when nearly ripe, will 
burst sometimes half or all of the crop. More 
than half of ours which were bagged were 
bursted by a week’s rain last Fall, while no un¬ 
bagged grapes bursted. This and the cost of 
putting ou are the only drawbacks. Ou our 
overhead system of training one acre can be 
bagged for §10, including cost of materials. 
Remarks. —We bagged our own grapes 
last season when they were the size of 
small peas. As it would lie difficult to 
picture grapes more perfectly ripened or 
with bloom more fully preserved, we shall 
bag them this season when they are about 
the same size. Our illustrations will serve 
to show how the bagging is effected with 
little explanation, and this little has already 
been furnished our readers and is again fur¬ 
nished iu Mr. Cay wood’s remarks above. We 
have only to urge all of our readers who may 
have grapes, to bag at least a few bunches. 
We are confident they will be pleased with the 
result aud will not need urging a second year. 
--- 
The Excelsior Grape. 
A red grape, with a yet more tender skin 
than the Concord is the Excelsior, raised by 
Prof. Jas. Mathews, Knoxville, Iowa It is 
the earliest here (Tyrone, Pa.), two weeks 
earlier than Concord—earlier than that fine 
seedling of the Concord, the Worden, and it 
has a more delicate color than the Iona, but is 
not quite so fruitful as these. Its flavor is as 
delicately ugreeaole as its color, aud it seems 
to dissolve entirely to the seed, skin aud all. 
Yet, although so tender, it keeps very well, 
retaining its charming delicacy of color, at 
least when in luags. G. 
Pain) ijitshaniXnj. 
THE FIRST MILKING. 
JOHN M. STAHL. 
Bagging Grapes—Fig. 174 . 
and 3 will be needed for medium aud large 
clusters. If some manufacturer will give us 
hags just the tint of the leaf, he will fill his 
pockets; with these the vines would look more 
imiform aud the birds und the bugs would not 
be tempted so much. Good—not thick—mau- 
Ultt paper is best. The bugs should be slipped 
over the dusters, folded and pinned close 
around the stem so as to exclude rain. The 
viuos should be managed so as to develop large 
buds to obtain clusters worth bugging, aud all 
small clusters should be cut off. 
From A. J. Caywood;—W e have bagged 
grapes in blossom aud they have done well, 
but as fertilization may occur from adjoining 
clusters, the operation had better be deferred 
until the blossom drops; bag as toon after¬ 
wards us possible. Cut down each aide of the 
bag about two inches, or far enough to permit 
H to bo itrawn up over the arm and lapped bo 
My readers must remember that this is 
written from Western Illinois; that while per 
haps, a large majority of them stable their 
cows in their large barns, teach their heifere 
“lead” when but a few mouths old, and 
care lor them iu the most considerate manner, 
sheds form the most usual protection for the 
lone of Western farmers, whose heifers are 
very rarely taught to ‘‘lead,” aud not infre¬ 
quently a kind hand is first laid upon them 
after they have dropped their first calf. It is 
not my purpose here either to laud the supe¬ 
rior care of the Eastern farmer or to bemoan 
the negligence of my Western brethren. I 
will only say in behalf of the latter that it 
is not so much their fault as it is the result of 
the natural aud unavoidable circumstances 
that surround them thut they do uot bestow 
more care upon their cattle. Nor is this ad¬ 
mission ou my part to be construed as a con¬ 
fession of the inferiority of Western fa inters; 
for in our latitude we profess and justly claim 
to be as good as our New York brethren. Nor 
should it be forgotten that the Rural has a 
good share of readers in the West, and prolt- 
ably would not object to more: so that an 
article from a Western standpoint will not 
only be valuable to its readers, but might be 
Bagging Grapes—Fig. 175 . 
of value to those who are yet to make fuller 
still the already well-filled-up ranks. 
No period iu the life of a cow is more critical 
than when she drops her first calf. If ever 
she is to receive kind and considerate care it 
is when she is 
StandiuR with reluctant teats 
Where Uelferhood with cowhood meets. 
The pains of calving leave her weak, nervous 
and irritable. She is very fond of her baby 
aud very much afraid that somebody will 
hurt it. as all young mothers u re. She is really 
modest, und when you come towards her. the 
milk pail iu the left hand and your right hand 
half clenched and extended, all the time 
saying, “So, so. Sookey! So—so-o-o, s-o-o-o! 
Now, s-o-o-o-ooo!” it is very little short of a 
miracle if she does uot shrink off from you, 
keeping her eye on her calf all the time. But 
if you do succeed iu approaching her side and 
laying one hand on her udder and then giving 
the swollen and distended teat a squeeze, do 
you wonder that her first impulse is to kick, 
which is the only way she knows of to resist 
the impertinence? Yet, if she does only so 
much as to step aside, how many people, more, 
perhaps, from thoughtlessness than any real 
ill-humor, will grow angry and speak sharply 
to her if they, do uot give her a kick in return. 
Such persons certainly do not. stop to think 
that to the young animal, blushing (to be 
poetical) in the first Consciousness of mother¬ 
hood, all these proceedings are novel ; 
that she does not understand, because she 
cauuot know, that you are acting through 
kindness to her; that she is weak and nervous 
and easily irritated; that she is very anxious 
for the safety of her calf; and that any show 
of ill-temper towards her must la* productive 
of the worst results. 
Upon the management of the first milking 
dej tends much more than is generally realized 
of the future value of the cow; for upon that 
operation hinge* the question whether she 
shall always lie ill-humored or good-humored, 
whether she shall be a good, valuable cow or 
au unmitigated nuisance. A row can be 
spoiled by injudicious, bungling management 
of the first milking, aud cows are frequently 
ruined just at this critical time. Cows have 
memories—very retentive ones. They remem¬ 
ber brutal treatment aud they remember kiud- 
uessos. If they are scared, maltreated aud 
goaded at the start they will always be diffi¬ 
cult to milk. 
I shall briefly relate a little of my own ex¬ 
perience, leaving the reader to form his own 
conclusions. But first, I wish to say, by waj 
of explanation, that almost invariably I han¬ 
dle and pet my heifers until they are so tame 
that there is no trouble about the first milking. 
The cases that I shall relate grew out of ex¬ 
ceptional examples, as will hereafter appear. 
Several year* ago a very fine large heifer 
was so unfortunate as. to drop a dead calf. 1 
had purchased her but a short time before, 
and as she was very wild when I got her, all 
our efforts to tame her before calving resulted 
iu a little less than complete success. A11 
might yet have been well had the calf lived to 
suck; but as the circumstances were, I felt cer¬ 
tain that we had trouble ahead of us. The 
heifer had been stabled for some time before 
calving, and in the stable the first attempt to 
m i lk her was made. The result was au in¬ 
glorious failure. We were as kind and gentle 
as we knew how, but at every attempt to draw 
the milk the animal would kick and attempt 
to make good use of her horns. A friend who 
was present declared that he could milk her, 
and in an evil moment we consented to allow 
him to make the effort. A rope was passed 
over the cow’s horns and her head tied close to 
a staple in one of the girts. The friend was a 
large, muscular man. and by putting his head 
just in front of her hip succeeded in milkin g 
her in spite of all her struggles. But that cow 
was spoiled for good. She was “mean to milk” 
ever after, aud I finally sold her to a butcher, 
notwithstanding that she was large, of fine 
build and an extra milker. 
At another time, through the impoteney of 
a bull, I had four heifers to calve as late as 
the first week of May. Through no fault of 
mine they had not been handled aud were not 
tame. It was in the very bight of corn plant¬ 
ing—the busiest season of all the year to an 
Illinois farmer—and the calves were allowed 
to run with the heifers for 10 days before we 
tided to milk the mothers. This was bad man¬ 
agement, One day it mined until the ground 
was too wet. to stir, and I concluded to milk 
those young cows. In one corner of a stock-shed 
we built a mil pen, ubout eight feet in dimen¬ 
sions ou the inside. The comers were secure¬ 
ly staked so that the pen could uot be throwu 
down, and one side w as fitted with bars. A 
calf was placed in the pen and the bare let 
down. The calf soon coaxed the mother into 
the pen, when 1 ran around the corner of the 
shed and put up the bars. The calf was then 
removed. Now 1 could get at the cow, w hile 
before 1 could uot get within 30 feet of her. 1 
got into the pen and laid my hand on her side. 
She commenced to run around the pen—just 
what l expected she w on Id do. The pen was so 
small that 1 could keep my hands on her side by 
merely turning around m the center. I spoke 
kindly to her all the time, and in five minutes 
she was standing still, all fear gone, and in 10 
minutes more she was milked. Then she was pet- 
