OCT 27 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
£ctrm (Topics, 
HOW I BECAME A FARMER. 
From a dry good’s clerk to a pioneer farmer 
is a wide step, but one which may be taken 
without violating any of Nature’s laws. My 
connection with the dry gc trade was not 
a happy one. I was too straight-backed for 
such au occupation and T lacked the smile 
that was ehikl-liko and bland and necessary 
to beguile the dollars from the pockets of 
the people. Chronic fits of ill-health added 
to a yoke as galling as the Egyptian bondage, 
and I longed for relief in some out-door occu¬ 
pation, It soon became a settled conviction 
that farming was mv only hope, but my weak 
constitution and delicate health made me 
hesitate before finally deciding. City friends 
I spoke to ridiculed the idea and made no 
end of jokes on the matter; farmers, on the 
other hand, told me I could never stand the 
work, and no doubt thought I was a well- 
meaning young man airing one of my day 
dreams. A severe illness rendering a surgi¬ 
cal operation necessary, incapacitated me for 
business for a few months and compelled me 
to give up my situation. On my restoration 
to health. I made up my mind that I would 
have not hing more to do with dry goods, and, 
further. I determined to try farming and set 
to work to determine how I should proceed. 
For a considerable time previous I bad been 
reading books on fa rming and all the kindred 
subjects, so that theoretically I was pretty 
well posted and at times could talk quite 
learnedly to country cousins. How to start 
practically was the difficulty. Many a project 
was devised and abandoned until at last I 
found a farmer willing to take me on trial 
and pay me what I was worth. He and my 
father had heen f rienrls in youth,and I imagine 
took me for ‘ auld-lang-syueV sake more 
than anything else. This arrangement would 
settle the question whether I was able to 
stand the work or not, and gave me an idea 
how I would like farming before doiug any¬ 
thing further. No school boy entering his 
vacation, could be more overjoyed than I 
was at the prospect, of becoming a farmer and 
thereby one of Nature’s noblemen, I did not 
share the city youth's idea of a farmer being 
a combination of strength and stupidity, but 
bad alwavs a kindly feeling towards them 
and admired their manly, outspoken ways 
Then I was entering a healthy occupation. 
A lady friend of mine used to sav the nearer 
we got our uoses to mother-earth, the better 
for us; and she would quote another lady, a 
famous novelist, recently deceased, who said: 
‘ To be happy one must have sound health or a 
verv enthusiastic soul ” I had tried the latter 
and it was a miserable failure. I would now 
try the former. I was also an intense lover 
of Nature and almost thought, like the Ger¬ 
man Transcendalists, that the earth was the 
living garment of God, and I was to be a 
wearer of at least one small patch. 
After coming on the farm, I was allowed a 
few days to look round and never did I enjoy 
Nature more, for the scenery all round was 
exceedingly heautiful. Not only on earth was 
there beauty all around, but in the sky. hidden 
by no hideous street blocks, were magnificent 
cloud-land effects and sunsets that, would hold 
me entranced. But plnv had to give way to 
work, and I was set to hoeing corn. This I 
thought would show what grit there was in me. 
Oh the weary half-mile rows of such mechani¬ 
cal labor! For 1 worked hard, determined 
I would be honest in all that l did. The long¬ 
est, lane has a turning, and so the hoeing had 
its turn, too; for hay was ripe and we had to 
take it in haiid. I had to mount the wagon 
and drive the team, a business in every way 
more congenial than hoeing corn. After hay. 
ing came harvest and all the other operations 
of the vear, through all which I managed to 
scramble successfully. It was hard work, but 
Nature came to my assistance, and gave mo an 
iucreased digestion, a clearer head and a 
stronger muscle. 
Such a lifo. though filled with hard work, 
was exceedingly sweet, for it had many pleas¬ 
ant. times, such as the noon day rest by the 
well under the maples; the botanical excursions 
through the woods and the privilege of the 
garden and the orchard. The evenings, too, 
were not without, enjoyment and profit. Wo 
had many musical nights, and then I devoured 
all the literature I coul 1 get connected with 
farming. Besides the papers taken by the 
farmer himself. I became a subscriber to what 
I considered the best agricultural paper, viz., 
the Rural New-Yorkkh, and a local farm¬ 
ers' paper of considerable value. As the 
Winter wore on, 1 found, like Othello, that mv 
occupation was gone; but my genial employer 
asked me to stay and work for my board, and 
as 1 liked the place I agreed to do so. Out-of- 
doors, however, matters were not .very satis¬ 
factory. In Summer one may loaf round all 
day, but In Winter. Jack Frost compels one 
to be up and'doing, but when there is nothing 
to do it becomes rather a puzzle. 
On one of these cold Winter days, a neigh¬ 
boring farmer came round and wanted me to 
go and help him for two months while his boy 
was at school. Feeling my dependent position 
where I was, I made up my mind to go, and in 
a few days went to my new home. There was 
a large number of stock of all kinds on the 
farm, just the thing I wanted, as my ideas of 
stock were rather hazy and my experience al¬ 
most nothing. Every spare m inute wa s taken 
up attending to the animals, and between them 
and my employer, who was rather a shrewd, 
intelligent man, I soon began to lay the foun¬ 
dation of a little experience. These two months 
were exceedingly eventful. We bad very 
stormy weather with heavy falls of snow and 
much cutting of tracks. It was difficult work 
to look after all the stock, and it was with a 
feeling of intense relief that I got through 
and went inside for the night. Every week 
there was a sociable in the district, to each of 
which I went, as I was now laying plans to go 
out West, aud I met people there who bad 
been out or who had friends there. I gathered 
much information in that way, and after 
thinking over the whole, I made up my mind 
I would try Dakota. My reasons for so doiug 
were that it was being settled by a good class 
of people and that crops were more certain 
there than in any State or other Territory 
where Government laud could be got. When 
my two months were over, I returned to my 
former employer and began to make prepara¬ 
tion's to go to Dakota. In about a week after¬ 
wards I started out. making Huron my objec¬ 
tive point. From there I made trips all around 
and then came on to Clark, where I went to see 
two young men who bad left Wisconsin a year 
previous, and had settled south of Clark. They 
very kindly showed me over the country 
round there, and as the land was as good as 
any T had seen and nearer a railroad, I fixed 
upon a quarter section and filed a pre-emption 
on it, I then returned to Wisconsin and bought 
a mare and a span of mules; in tools I bought 
a sulgy plow with breaking attachment, a 
combined reaper and mower and a horse rake. 
I also took as much feed as would last through 
the “breaking” season: lumber to build a 
shanty and stable, tree cuttings and a number 
of smaller articles all of which I shipped to 
Raymond, as the point nearest to my home¬ 
stead. I managed to take them safely through 
and after hauling them from the depot I set 
to work and put up my stable and shanty, and 
occupied them within the week. 
I then started breaking, but my team beiug 
strange aud I being strange to the plow, in 
fact being all strange together, the work was 
not at all satisfactory. However, I kept at it, 
and ere a fortnight was over I could honestly 
say it was fair breaking. Cooking was the 
most disagreeable business. My bread at first 
was as solid as a brick. I could uever have 
asked anyone to eat it, and other cooked 
things were much of the same kind. The old 
nursery rhyme would, however, come into my 
head ; “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try 
again;” aud I did try, and eventually gotover 
my difficulties. My digestion was exceedingly 
good; I was always ready for a good, square 
meal. There was no turning up of the nose at 
this or that as there used to be in the city. The 
stomach was too eager for anything, and the 
purse too empty to spoil it with delicacies. 1 
often thought that if some of my young city 
friends went through the same experience 
they would go back with a better appreciation 
of what was set before them. 
After I had broken about 10 acres, I put in 
five of oats and a quantity of garden stuff, 
such as potatoes, onions, peas, lettuce, etc. 
Then 1 broke for a part of each day, and put 
in corn with a hand planter during the rest 
of it, until I had 10 acres. White beans were 
next taken in hand, of which I put in five 
acres, and finished up with carrots, turnips, 
etc., etc. In my garden patch, I hnd a regu¬ 
lar round of vegetables, as cabbage, squash, 
tomatoes, etc., and to give a touch of beauty 
to the prairie, aud a little refinement to the 
shanty, I added a variety of flowers. My 
tree cuttings did not succeed, but maple tree 
seed germinated well, and are now a good 
size. In my simplicity, 1 expected everything 
would grow and give me no trouble, but such 
was not the case. Gophers ate my com be¬ 
fore it started, and there was no poisoning 
them; shooting them was slow work, and ana¬ 
thematizing them slower still. I wonder if 
Noah had them in the Ark with Mint He 
ought to have let them out a day before the 
flood ceased. Beetles came on the potato 
viucs and nearly spoiled them. Paris-green 
notwithstanding. A dry spell came, anil 
threatened to kill everything. Worst, of all. 
the water in the creek began to dry up and be 
unfit for use. This compelled me to begin 
digging a well, which proved a failure, aud I 
had to start another, which was a success, 
water being got at 18 feet, and what a relie 
it was to get it! Imagine hauling water in 
barrels for a mile, and leaving it stand in the 
sun all day. Every drop too was precious. 
Only those who have gone through such an 
experience can realize the blessing of plenty 
of good water. 
The breaking season was very dry; work 
was therefore slow, but I held to it, and broke 
35 acres for myself and five for a neighbor. | 
After breaking, I made up my mind to build 
a sod stable, which I made 14 by 24 inside, 
the walls being three feet thick at tbe bottom. 
The roof I sloped to all sides, and covered it 
with bay. It was with a feeling of more than 
ordinary satisfaction that I finished it; for it 
was done when the thermometer was up in 
the nineties, but there was this about it—it 
would be cosy and warm in the Winter. The 
stable finished. I added a wing to my slianty, 
dug a cellar below it, and fixed up things in a 
more permanent way than I had time for in 
the Spring. Hay was next taken in hand, 
and, working together, a neighbor and my¬ 
self put up about 15 tons each. I also hired 
cut for several days cutting wit h my reaper, 
which brought in a few dollars—no small 
thing in those times, for I was often in sore 
straits, and I dreaded having to borrow. My 
crops were not a success. A severe hail 
storm struck my quarter, and cut them down. 
Oats never recovered, and were scarcely 
worth cutting. Corn did better, and yielded 
a fair amount of wbat I can call dry ears; the 
most of it I have cut for fodder. Beans were 
sorely beaten with wind and rain besides the 
bail, and have turned out very poor—about 
2‘4 bushels to the acre. Tomatoes, squash, 
and such like, were taken by the early frost, 
but carrots, turnips, etc., are doing well, and 
will prove valuable aids to getting through 
the Winter. 
From what I have said, it will be seen the 
year has been rather discouraging; but I be¬ 
lieve it has been so everywhere, more or less, 
so that I have had companions in my misfor¬ 
tunes. Personally, I am not discouraged, 
and am looking forward hopefully to the 
coming vear. I am busy setting things in 
order for the Winter, and as I have been ex¬ 
perimenting very much this year, and been 
keeping my eyes open to the lessons taught, I 
have confidence I will be able to cope with 
difficulties and doubts more successfully in 
the future than I have been in the past. I 
have prettv settled ideas now as to when a 
thing should be done and how, and am there¬ 
fore ready to strike in when the time comes. 
I say this In no boastful spirit, for I know I 
have much to learn, and 1 believe the longer 
I live the more I shall want to know, aud that 
even when the end comes I will be crying for 
“ light, more light.” 
Many will no doubt ask is such a life as 
mine worth living t I answer, yes. I have no 
reason to regret my change from the city’s 
gav scenes to the country's lone obscurity; 
for I have good health and buoyant spirits 
such as I nsed to have in youth before dry 
goods oppressed me. I sav " the lone country’’ 
only in a comparative way, for to one with 
the seeing eye. it is not lone, for "he can find 
tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
sermons in stones and good in everything,” 
and I indorse the last line most religiously. 
“ I would not change it.” I know lam open 
to attack on my bachelor existence. I admit 
“baching” to be a poor way of living; but 
poverty compels me to it at present; but as 
soon as that big wheat crop comes round, 
which all pioneers here look for, I will change 
my wavs, should I find a congenial soul to 
share my shanty and make jiu oasis even in 
what is popularly known as the “Garden of 
Eden.” Y - M - 
PERSISTENCY OF ERROR. 
It is sometimes said that there is more spec¬ 
ulation among scientific agriculturists and 
more lack of aeenrate knowledge among 
practical farmers than are to be found among 
any other class of artisans or any set of pro¬ 
fessional men. Of course, there are fanatics 
in and out of every occupation, who always 
advocate the extreme view in the discussion 
of any subject. But let us lay aside our col¬ 
ored spectacles and try and see if there is any 
foundation for such an assertion: 
The art of agriculture is au old one. There 
hnd been tillers of the soil before ever the 
world wept over the eloquence of a Demos¬ 
thenes or Cicero, or stood iu silent awe before 
the leaminir of a Plato or a Newton. In point 
Of antiquity agriculture antedates tbe so- 
called sciences or arts, while t he percentage 
of farmers who are following in the footsteps 
of their fathers is much larger than that of 
any of the trades or professions. On the other 
hand, the geueral knowledge of the farmer 
partakes more of the nature of tradition than 
of actual tests or practical experiments. Not¬ 
withstanding the antiquity of agriculture, 
how long has it been since good people per¬ 
sisted in planting potatoes in the moon or ren¬ 
dering lard iu just the right “quarter?” 
How manv years is it since the tomato was 
considered a deadly poison 1 C'. A* 
INCUBATORS—No. 2. 
HENRY HALES. 
The change of temperature spoken of in 
my last article on this subject, is one of the 
greatest troubles in early hatching. The warm 
water may flow equally under all the eggs, 
still there is generally a warmer place in the 
center than around the edges of the machine, 
unless it is placed in a regularly heated room, 
which must be well ventilated to insure suc¬ 
cess. Moisture is required to keep the egg 
shells from getting too hard, so that the chicks 
may be able to break the walls of their 
prisons. Here is a point that requires some 
study: a great many eggs in incubators will 
advance in all the early stages of incubation 
till the little chicks are ready to burst their 
shells and make their bow to a world of vicis¬ 
situdes. Under the hen the egg shells undergo 
a change; about hatching time they are softer 
or more brittle than in the incubator at the 
same stage. Whether the perspiration from 
the hen's skin causes this condition, is hard to 
tell. I have been contradicted in a statement 
to this effect before; but I am sure that it is 
so. Even tbe shells that the chicks in an in¬ 
cubator do break, are harder than the shells 
left in a hen’s nest. 
In regard to the strength and health of 
chicks from incubators, something must be 
taken into consideration on account of breed. 
All the Asiatics are stronger and less suscepti¬ 
ble to cold than other breeds. Although they 
all appear lively when first hatched by any 
means, most of the small breeds soon begin to 
show a weakness, except in hot weather when 
I have had them do almost as well as Asiatics. 
Still, as a general th ; ng, they will not take on 
flesh like chicks with their natural mother, 
and I am assured by live poultry dealers in 
New York markets, that chicks brought from 
a large hatching establishment could not be 
offered as fine young early broilers, because 
of their being in such a poor condition. 
Although they had had all tbe care and feed¬ 
ing that could be given them, the birds could 
hardly be sold at any price. 
It is claimed that incubator chicks are free 
from parasites. This may be true so long as 
they are kept from all contact with all other 
poultry, and from all places where other 
poultry have been: but if these conditions are 
not observed they will not be clear long, any 
more than chicks batched under hens, and 
they will not be so free from vermin as these if 
they are more delicate in health. There is much 
ignorance with regard to the parasites of 
poultry, so many persons claiming they never 
have them on their birds. There is no flock 
of birds without them, a fact which I have 
often shown, to the surprise of the owners. On 
healthy fowls they do not increase, if proper 
care is taken, but as soon as a bird becomes 
weak from sickness and cannot actively clean 
itself, the vermin will increase, whether the 
sufferer has been hatched under a hen or in 
an incubator. In both cases the same pre¬ 
ventives are required. 
As to growth in cold weather, chicks^ 
hatched under hens have decidedly the advan¬ 
tage; but in hot Summer weather I have had 
incubator hatched chicks grow quite as fast. 
Under these circumstances I should say chick¬ 
ens could be batched earlier in incubators, but 
they would not grow as fast as those hatched 
under hens, nor would thev mature as early. 
The fancier who could raise a few incubator 
birds, and with great care brine along a few 
early chicks to perfection, might fed reward¬ 
ed; but it is doubtful whether the farmer 
would find any profit in raising early chickens 
by incubators, seeing the extra time and at¬ 
tention required to bring them through the 
troubles of chickenhood. and then at the end 
he is very likely to find them too poor to mar¬ 
ket. Of course, this relates more to the 
Northern States than to the South, where, I 
am told, tho earlv chickens thrive better. 
Hatching chickens by incubators on a large 
scale for market purposes has’sicnally failed. 
Companies have been formed with large capi¬ 
tal in several countries and started with a 
great flourish; several persons have tried the 
same in this country, with abundant means, 
the best of appliances, and marked intelli¬ 
gence, but all have given up the business. I 
have uot writteu this with any desire to dis¬ 
courage research, or with any prejudice 
against incubators, but to aid the fanner in 
understanding the plain state of the business, 
as he is so often advised to do this and that by 
persons interested in the sale of devices or not 
fully competent to advise. Perhaps the time 
will come, when the artificial incubation of 
eggs and particularly the rearing of “incu¬ 
bated” chickens, will be better understood, 
but for the present there is not much in the 
process to assist farmers. 
