ennobling and instructive calling. Nature 
blooms in sweet profusion all around the 
farm, stimulates the imagination to lofty 
bights, to study the sublime as spread in rich 
and abundant profusion in the pastures ver¬ 
dant with the sweet and luxurious grasses, 
for the sustenance of the animals most useful 
to man. Then what a delight there is in see¬ 
ing that these are properly cared for; that the 
most profitable returns are made from stock 
that labor, as well as from those that give 
milk or butter, cheese or meat or clothing. 
“Again what are you farming for? ’ For the 
profit which comes from well directed labor, 
intelligently employed; for the health and 
strength, activity and usefulness the employ¬ 
ment gives; to be better able to meet the great 
Fig. 173. 
responsibilities of life that rush in upon us 
9very hour; to be lifted higher in the sphere of 
exalted thought and noble aspirations, the true 
dignity of true manhood. How can it be 
that he who is so intimate with Nature, should 
fail to profit by the wonderful lessons she 
teaches, in “hill, and vale, and stream?” 
Certainly he who fails to do this cannot love 
her; most surely his heart is disinclined to 
listen to the music of her voice. Little won¬ 
der that he groans: “Farmin’ don't pay.” Na¬ 
ture is a generous giver when she is loved 
and petted, but poverty punishes a slight to 
her. These are some of the many answers I 
would give to the question for A D. 1889. 
Goodhue County. w. e. r. 
I am a farmer from choice. When a boy I 
had much to do with horses, as my father kept 
a livery stable. It was always a pleasure to 
get out into the country, and I thought at 
that time that I would some day be a farmer. 
At C?0 I went into a dry-goods store, where I 
remaned four years as a clerk. Then I went 
on a firm and I’ve been iarrni ng ever since. 
I have no idea that I would have enjoyed life 
so well in any other business. It gives me 
more pleasure to make two blades of grass 
grow where only one grew before, than it 
does to make a trade by which I gain money. 
Wright County. j. l. 
FROM NEBRASKA. 
Why am I a farmer ? Well, because I want¬ 
ed to be—not because I had to be. I was 
raised on a farm and staid there until 19, then 
followed railroading for two and one-half 
years and was doing well when I quit to take 
a homestead, and here I have been for nearly 
20 years. 1 took a piece of raw prairie; now 
1 have thousands of trees, including about all 
kinds ot fruit trees that will grow in this cli¬ 
mate, also a fine collection of evergreens, the 
poorest of which I think is the Norway 
spruce. The best I have is the Austrian pine. 
I like it better than the Scotch pine. I have 
no White pine. I may also say that 1 am a 
Fig. 174. 
farmer because I like to be my own boss and 
no one is trying to beat me out of my job—as 
there always is on a railroad. For my love 
of the farm I can thank the Rural in part 
at least, for 1 have had the reading of it since 
my boyhood days. Success to itl May its 
coming days be still better than the past! 
Steele City. D. T. G. 
FROM PENNSYLVANIA. 
TnE Rural wants to know why farmers 
farm. I follow the business because I like it; 
because I think it as profitable as most other 
occupations, if we apply to it the same busi¬ 
ness principles and the same judgment; be¬ 
cause the farm is a good place to raise a 
family of boys or girls. If the boys make 
good farmers they are qualified for any other 
■ 
business which requires pluck and persever¬ 
ance, and one reason why I farm is because of 
the farmer’s independence of the opinions of 
others, as he is not dependent for his success 
upon the patronage of his neighbors. I am 
not a city farmer, as 1 have lived on a farm 
nearly all my life. i. r. 
Poughkenamon. 
I became a farmer, not because I had to, as 
the head of the house or home was an artisan 
and worked at his trade. We wanted a home 
where we could do as we wished, which we 
had found impossible in a rented house. The 
children were too noisy; the cat was a nui¬ 
sance; our neighbors’ chickens destroyed our 
garden when we had any. We had to buy 
every pint of milk, every dozen eggs, every 
bushel of potatoes, every cabbage, etc., and 
could not always get them, or, when we did, 
perhaps they would not be fresh, so we 
bought a small farm of 37 acres so that we 
could have a cow, pig, some chickens, etc., 
and plenty of water without having to carry 
it so far. Now after living here a few years, 
we have learned to love the freedom of the 
farm and find by devoting to it as much time 
as we would to a*ny other trade, that there is 
money in it. Of course 1 do not say that any¬ 
one can, all at once, become rich in farming, 
but he can enjoy better health and comfort, 
and more luxuries than the ordinary trades¬ 
man or mechanic can. Then there is the 
freedom from rent, a great bugbear to the 
man who falls sick or who finds work slack. 
If a farmer with a family were to leave his 
farm and take a place at a trade and get *12 
per week, he would wonder where his money 
went to if he had to buy the same things he 
had without price on the farm. m. l. 
White Mills. 
I never tried it, but I have tried moral 
suasion, scolding, talking gently, whistling, 
pounding with milking stools, pitch-forks, us¬ 
ing big whips—all to no purpose. A good 
kicker was sure to worst me when I least 
suspected it. 
Toward the last of my checkered career as 
a milker, after having tried many experi¬ 
ments, having read all I could find and sought 
the advice of every one ; after frequent trials 
and spilt milk and soiled clothes; after shed¬ 
ding many tears and losing my good dispo¬ 
sition (all true) ; after giving much serious 
thought to the subject, I hit upon the follow¬ 
ing original device, which seemed to be a good 
thing. I tried it at the next milking, when 
no one was near to notice success or failure. 
I tied a slipping noose about the right hind 
foot of the cow and the other end of the rope 
to a gate post, and started up the cow till the 
rope was straight. She could not get away, 
she was properly “ histed,” and could not get 
her foot into the pail. 1 sat down to milk. 
It was “ Old Brock,” our worst and most ex¬ 
perienced kicker. I milked her for once with 
great satisfaction, and was delighted with my 
new plan. I talked to her in triumph and set 
the pail of milk through the gate. I induced 
her to back up so as to slacken the rope, 
and sat down to untie it. She stood quietly 
until the rope was freed. I was stooping 
right behind her. She looked around to take 
in the situation, struck me a smart blow on 
my forehead, and started on a run, while I 
rolled over in the dirt and saw a firmament of 
golden stars. I did not pursue the cow. She 
was still the victor, as she always had been. 
I wore a large lump for the next three weeks. 
I never tried the remedy again, nor did I 
milk the cow when I could possibly induce the 
hired man to do so. 
Agricultural College, Mich. 
find it is easier to fall down and run the risk 
of getting hurt than to exert myself to stand 
up.’ 1 Being short in stature, and somewhat 
wheezy, the whole scene, though unfortunate, 
must have been a source of no small merri¬ 
ment to the most lugubrious. But to be fully 
appreciated it ought to be seen. No descrip¬ 
tion could do it justice. 
Falls City, Nebraska. 
I Am Very Much Interested in the 
Rural’s Rosa rugosa hybrids, and want to 
know all I can about them. Last Christmas 
I sent to Thos. S Wan, London, and got 
several of ihe new Rugosa sorts—Paul’s single 
white, Paul’s single red, and two others. 
They have made a great growth. c. h. s. 
Niles, Cal. 
farm Cfmtomij. 
NEW AGRICULTURAL DEVICES. 
The Paris Exposition has drawn together 
many new machines and devices that promise 
Fig. 175. 
Fig. 172. 
What are we farming for? Mainly for 
good health and pure enjoyment. The more 
of our own food we produce, the more certain 
we are of its purity and wholesomeness. 
With good, pure food, good health and home 
attractions, the purer are our enjoyments. 
Farming Is a success for us. But we are also 
farming to produce a basis for speculative 
gambling operations. c. w. 6. 
Waynesboro. 
BARN-YARD MEMORIES. 
Readers of the R. N.-Y. will remember a 
picture, printed last fall, entitled “A Tale of 
a Tail,” which illustrated the misfortunes of 
a man who tied the tail of the cow he was 
milking to the strap of his boot. We cannot 
think of any of our pictures that has called 
forth more pleasant comment than this “Tale.” 
It seems as if half of our readers have seen 
“ some other fellow ” in just about the plight 
of the milker in the picture; and those who 
have not met with a similar case have some 
other barn-yard experience to relate that they 
consider just as laughable. Among the many 
barn-yard tragedies that have been submitted 
to us are the following. Our artist has illus¬ 
trated them on the first page. We let the his¬ 
torians give their own words : 
A KICKING COW. 
DR. W. J. BEAL. 
“That reminds me;” I mean the cartoon 
on the milking of a cow. Possibly the fol¬ 
lowing may be a pointer for another cartoon: 
For kicking cows I never succeeded in finding 
a suitable remedy. I have made many ex¬ 
periments, but never succeeded to my satis¬ 
faction. Since I quit milking, perhaps bet¬ 
ter races of cows have come into existence. 
When a lad, I used to take up one fore foot 
and slip on a strap to hold it up, letting the 
cow stand on three legs; but a smart kicker 
even then would always beat me. I tried a 
bar pressed close up to one side of the cow in 
the stable, with partial success. I have since 
heard that a rope or strap tied tightly around 
the body in front of the hips is a sure thing. 1 
CALLING THE STEER. 
E. J. MC WAIN. 
The Rural’s pictorial illustration of a 
“ Tale of a Tail ” reminds me of a laughable 
incident or barn-yard scene which was enact¬ 
ed in my presence in old Vermont before I 
came to this country. I was living at home 
on a farm with father, and one of our neigh¬ 
bors, a Deacon of the village Congregational 
church, about 60 years old and weighing 
250 pounds, an excellent man but somewhat 
noted for his eccentricity, superintended but 
did little else upon his farm, as he had grown¬ 
up sons who performed the labor. His farm 
team was always a yoke of oxen. His barn¬ 
yard was quite large and, like all such yards 
in that country during the spring work, was 
probably a foot or more deep with slush or a 
mixture of snow, mud, manure and black, 
filthy water, making a conglomerate some¬ 
what of the consistency of porridge, with an oc¬ 
casional knoll and the smooth round surface 
of a stone affording a precarious footing in 
passing over it. While the vard was in this 
condition one spring day, the oxen were 
chewing their cuds lazily in different corners. 
Having occasion to yoke them up, one of the 
boys accompanied by his rotund father went 
to the barn for that purpose. The young 
man took the yoke and went to the off ox and 
put the end of the y«ke on him, and taking 
out the other bow, and holding it in his right 
hand, and elevating the other end of the yoke 
with the other, was loudly calling to the 
other ox to come under the yoke, but he con¬ 
tinued to chew his cud without noticing the 
order. The old gentleman made his way as 
best he could towards the ox on these knolls 
and stones, until he stood some 20 feet from 
him, with both feet on the rounding, smooth 
surface of a stone. He could advance no 
further without stepping into the slush up 
to his knees. There he stood, waving 
his hands in the air, and hallooing at the ox 
to drive him under the yoke. While in this 
attitude his feet slipped from the stone and he 
fell heavily forward at full length, face down¬ 
ward, into the mud and slush. He deliberate¬ 
ly rolled over on to his back and as deliber¬ 
ately proceeded to rise. Having regained his 
feet, standing to his knees in filth, which was 
dripping from his besmeared face, spit from 
his disgusted mouth and running off his gar¬ 
ments and the tips of his fingers, he looked 
up to his son and quietly remarked: “Well, I 
to be of service to farmers. Our English 
contemporary, the Mark Lane Express, prints 
pictures of some of these devices, which we 
have re-engraved. 
THE NAIL-LESS HORSE SHOE. 
This invention is shown at Figs. 172 and 
173, and the pictures fully explain the con¬ 
trivance. It is said that these shoes are in 
use in London to a considerable extent. Those 
who use them seem to think that a horse is 
rested by having his shoes removed when not 
at work, just as a man would be. 
THE SPEEDWELL CREAM RAISER. 
This invention is shown at Figs. 174 and 
175. Fig. 174 shows the vessel into which the 
milk to be creamed is poured. A is a glass 
eye-piece to measure the amount of cream ; B 
is an outlet pipe for drawing off milk ; C, C, 
C, C are compartments to assist in the rapid 
cooling of the milk,and R is the upper portion 
of the creamer, just large enough to admit the 
skimmer. Fig. 175. To use the contrivance, 
the milk is poured into the vessel, which is 
filled nearly to the top. The legs, C, C, C are 
placed in cold water so that all the cream 
rises to the top of R. When the cream is 
ready for skimming, the skimmer, Fig. 175, 
is passed through R at a depth indicated 
through the glass. A, and the cream is thus 
easily removed. One defect that users will 
find in this is the fact that the small com¬ 
partments at C, C, C, C, while valuable in 
promoting rapid cooling, will be difficult to 
clean properly. 
farm (Topics. 
NEW JERSEY FARMS THAT PAY. 
EDITORIAL CORRESPONDENCE. 
NO. II. 
R- N.-Y.—Can you give me a statement of 
the sales from your 100 acre farm in one year ? 
Farmer L.—Here is an account of my sales 
from the farm for 188S—1889, closing with 
April 1, 1889: 
From cattle and pork.362.16 
Corn.130.00 
Potatoes.1,304.16 
Hay.925.00 
Wheat. 331.32 
Miscellaneous sources.64.19 
*3,116 83 
R. N.-Y.—But your soil is unusually strong. 
Farmer L.—It was not so when I bought 
it. I can easily raise double the crops I 
could 10 years ago, and chemical fertilizers 
have done the work for me. I would like to 
see an acre of farm land in New Jersey so 
poor that I cannot, by the aid of fertilizers, 
make it yield paying crops of potatoes and bay. 
I 
