THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
6i5 
»6S 
Hope Farm Notes 
apples and Hogs.—I have several let¬ 
ters from farmers who want to know the 
feefling value of apples for hogs. The 
following table shows what the chemist 
finds: 
Pounds In One Ton. 
Muscle Pat Pure 
makers, formers, fat. Water. 
Apple.? .6 241 .. 1606 
Potatoes .42 436 4 1500 
White turnips.22 120 2 1840 
Pumpkins .8 140 2 1780 
Pasture grass..50 1U8 8 1600 
Corn .168 1200 96 280 
Skiin-milk .7U 100 4 1800 
From this table apples seem to make a 
very poor showing. Where clover hay 
was worth 80 cents per 100 pounds apples 
are worth by comparison only 13 cents, 
but I think the hog can get more out 
of the apples than the chemist can. The 
way Billy Berk has packed condensed 
apple sauce along his back and sides con¬ 
vinces me that he knows more about 
apples than any chemist that ever an¬ 
alyzed one. According to this table young 
pasture grass Is worth about the same as 
skim-milk, and I think that is a fair 
estimate. I notice that our hogs eat con¬ 
siderable grass with the apples, and we 
throw weeds pulled out of the straw¬ 
berries and wastes of all kinds to them. 
The hogs prefer sweet to sour apples, 
though they will eat the latter readily. 
1 should not think of feeding hogs on ap¬ 
ples alone. While they could make a liv¬ 
ing on fruit we do not keep animals for 
the purpose of making a mere living. We 
want them to grow as fast as they can, 
and this can only be done by giving them 
plenty to eat. I consider whole or cracked 
corn the best grain for hogs in an or¬ 
chard. It corrects some of the effect of 
the fruit, makes hard, firm pork, and can 
be fed so that all will get their share. 
Good-sized hogs that were being fed 
about three pounds of corn per day before 
they went to the orchard now get less 
than one pound, and look better in every 
way. You see that while apples contain 
only about three per cent as much muscle 
makers as corn they contain over 25 per 
cent of the ash elements in an equal 
weight of corn, and this ash is what makes 
bone in the animal. Moreover, this ash 
in the apple is in the most soluble form, 
and 1 think this is one great reason why 
the apple is so useful as food for both 
hogs and humans. Surely it would maRe 
any member of the Apple Consumers’ 
League double-clinch his pledge to see 
the way old Sarah, the Yorkshire sow, 
has rounded herself out with apple sauce. 
She went into the orchard like a rail, with 
bones showing where a big family had 
pulled them into view. Now she is smooth 
and round, though more than two-thirds 
of her grain has been taken from her. 
You must understand that I am giving 
our own experience with hogs in the or¬ 
chard—not advising others to do the same. 
I have heard of cases where hogs did not 
thrive under such treatment, but ours 
thus far have done very well. The wire 
for fencing in this orchard cost about $12, 
and 1 consider it a great investment. 
Okchard Notes. —There was a fair 
board fence around the orchard when we 
came to the farm. We put a three-foot 
strip of ordinary chicken wire inside the 
fence, and this has thus far held the hogs. 
When the apples fail they may try to 
break through, but in that case we will 
run a strand of barbed wire about one foot 
from the ground. Had the board fence 
not been there 1 would have used a 50-inch 
coiled spring fence. We are using that 
whenever the old rail fences come down, 
and find that it turns stock perfectly. 
. . . . The Nyack Pippins out of the or¬ 
chard w'here the hogs are will pay the 
taxes, chip a little off the mortgage and 
fill several pork barrels. I Have found 
nothing finer in the market than the best 
of them. We sell in bushel baskets, which 
bring from 60 cents to $1 each at whole¬ 
sale. At first we sent some small ones, 
but transportation and cartage is just as 
heavy on these culls, while Berk and York 
will pay as much as a commission man. 
So now we throw the small ones right on 
the ground and let the hogs attend to 
them. There is a demand for good-sized 
sweet apples this year, and we have ship¬ 
ped some at a fair profit.The 
finest of the Pippins are at the tops of the 
trees, and that means a long way from 
tlie ground. The way these trees are head¬ 
ed makes it nearly impossible to use a 
ladder. The little boys offered to pick 
this fruit and practice ball at the same 
time. One of them mounts to the top of 
the tree, picks off the finest fruit and 
drops it to another boy on the ground 
who makes a fly catch and lands it gently 
in the basket. The little fellows hav® 
picked many bushels in this way, and had 
much fun as they would in a baseball 
game. There are several old sweet apple 
trees standing about the farm away from 
the orchard. I wanted the windfalls picked 
for the hogs, but it took the little boys 
a long time to pick and carry a basket. 
When I ranged them in a row so that 
they could pass the apples like a baseball 
and throw them to the hogs you would 
be surprised to see how quickly a bushel 
wetit over the fence. Put ball-bearings on 
a boy’s work if you want to see it run 
easily! .... In spite of the rings in 
their noses the hogs root up the soft 
ground under the larger trees. They have 
done little damage in the sod, but under 
each large tree is a ring of soft earth 
where no grass grows. There the hogs 
root and dig after Insects. As I now feel, 
I do not care much If they tear the whole 
orchard over. I now believe I can obtain 
more hog feed by plowing in the Spring 
and sowing a mixture of oats, Canada field 
peas and rape—turning the hogs in as the 
apples begin to fall. I feel sure this will 
give more hog feed than the present sod 
of Orchard grass. If this were an or¬ 
chard of Baldwin or other late varieties 
with low heads I would not handle it in 
any such way, but with early varieties the 
hogs come first. 
Birthday Celebration.— August 16 is a 
great day at Hope Farm. Charlie, the Bud 
and the little Scion were all born on that 
day, and the Madame’s birthday comes 
four days later. We believe in making 
much of such days, and there is always 
some little celebration. This year the day 
came on Sunday and so Saturday was the 
time. Aunt Eleanor and Aunt Mary are 
spending August with us, and they took 
charge of the programme. The little boys 
had a holiday, and as soon as the milk 
was delivered all the children disappeared 
in Aunt Eleanor’s room, where great and 
mysterious things were under way. A 
little girl from a neighbor’s came over to 
help, and about five o’clock she with the 
seven farm children came marching down 
the driveway in great array. Each wore 
a paper crown and a paper belt—that was 
what they had been making in Aunt 
Eleanor’s room. Aunt Eleanor marched 
ahead, ringing a bell and Aunt Mary 
brought up the rear pounding on a tin pan. 
At the barn they picked up Charlie. Not 
to be outdone he got a tin can and fas¬ 
tened it to his head like “Happy Hooli¬ 
gan.’’ This strange procession marched 
around the farm and brought up at the 
grape arbor, where the Madame took a 
picture of them. Then they all sat down 
to a feast of sandwiches, doughnut.s, cake 
and lemonade. Then all hands went out 
on the lawn and danced a “Shaker dance.” 
The Hope Farm man and the Madame 
hopped about as lively 'as anybody. You 
wouldn’t catch such dignified folks danc¬ 
ing except to celebrate their own silver 
wedding or their daughter’s birthday. 
After the dance we sat under the grape 
arbor and played games and paid forfeits 
until the stars peeped out and the shadows 
crawled down from the hills, so that no 
one could tell who had the button even 
when we passed it with open hands. It 
was a great day for the little folks. Mem¬ 
ory will run her tongue over it and stick 
it tight to Hope Farm, so that it will carry 
us all with lighter hearts over some hard 
bumps of life. 
Fresh Air Children.—I thought of our 
little folks chirping and gurgling like a 
flock of birds into sleep when on Sunday 
we went to attend a service held at a 
“fresh air” boarding house. Some worthy 
people with good hearts and purses fas¬ 
tened with elastic bands have secured a 
farmhouse where city children are sent for 
two weeks of fresh air. There is a great¬ 
hearted matron and a great-handed cook 
to look after and feed them, and what a 
glorious time they have away from the 
city brick and stones! I wish you could 
have seen them that Sunday morning 
gathered in the old barn. A few farmers 
had driven over with their families to 
help out the services. One man brought 
a little melodeon along in his wagon, so 
that we could have some music. The 
Madame played that and Hope Farm came 
in strong on the chorus. The little “fresh 
airs” had swept that barn as clean as a 
whistle, and there they sat, their little 
faces shining with interest as the service 
went on. What a shame that these little 
human sprouts must go back to the sin 
and struggle of the great city. The longer 
I live the more firmly do I believe that 
the farm is the only place for a child to 
pass its early years. New reasons for 
saying this come to me every day, and I 
doubt if there is at the present time any 
more patriotic duty than for those farm¬ 
ers who are fitted to do so to take a little 
child that would otherwise go wild or go 
to an institution. I am careful not to sav 
that all should do this, for I know weli 
that many are not fitted by nature or feel 
ing to do justice to a little child. God hell, 
the little stranger who comes into a honu 
where he is not welcome, or where he i; 
expected to work his little life out. 
Protecting Trees. —Here is a question 
from Rhode Island: 
“1 would like to ask for the best wisdon 
to combat mice, rabbits, woodchucks oi 
whatever little animal it may be, whicl. 
gnawed at the bark of my ‘Stringfellow 
trees, playing havoc with their vitality. 
Will Winter protection suffice?” 
The damage was probably done by mice. 
We lost several trees last Winter. Tht 
mice work under the mulch and gna\. 
during the Winter or early Spring. Wt 
found it a mistake to leave the mulch u, 
close around the body of the young tret 
Where it was moved away with a clea. 
space of about six inches around the trc. 
the mice did not trouble. A little mouii. 
of fresh dirt around the base of the tre. 
will keep them off. Rabbits do not bothCi 
us much. The hunters keep after then, 
'ihe best way to keep them off is to wim 
tile base of the tree with plain buildint 
or tarred paper. Take a long narrow strq 
and wind it around and around and fastei. 
Woodchucks will not hurt your trees ii. 
Winter, for the woodchuck passes that 
season in sleep. 
Odd Mention.—I made a bargain with 
the little boys to do a piece of work on 
condition that I should take them to see a 
game of baseball. They did the work, but 
i was away when the game was played. 
Then I agreed to let them pick out some 
other entertainment. They found a postei 
of “Pawnee Bill’s” show, and nothing 
would do but that. I will always carry out 
an agreement wdth a child If I can. After 
all, a boy with good, red blood in his veins 
might be expected to prefer Pawnee Bill 
to some moral lecture! So we went to the 
show, and I must confess that I enjoyed 
It. We sat on a board, ate our peanuts 
and popcorn and shuddered when the In¬ 
dians burned the cabin an^ carried off the 
beautiful girl. The boys, at least, yelled 
when Pawnee Bill and his scouts rushed 
in just at the right time and set her free! 
At one part of the show a scene from the 
war in the Philippines was acted. A num¬ 
ber of real Filipinos, little brown men, 
.marched in and then a crowd of United 
States soldiers, big, stout fellows, with a 
Gatling gun, rushed up and captured the 
fort. The Scion had it about right when 
he asked, “What are those big men fight¬ 
ing the brown boys for?” When the little 
brown fellows retired, two men jumped out 
of the fort and waved “Old Glory,” while 
the band played “'Phe Star Spangled Ban¬ 
ner.” There was mighty little applause, for 
people are pretty well tired of the glory 
gained by Uncle Sam in spanking brown 
boys! My boys wanted fo know all about 
this war. I think I can made them under¬ 
stand the possible morality of our war with 
Spain, but it is too much of a job for me 
to explain the moral side of the whipping 
those “brown boys” received. h. w. c. 
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