1900 
THE RTJRAL NEW-YORKER. 
579 
HOPE FARM NOTES. 
Hot Days. —August is a nice month 
for those who can dissolve all work and 
care in a vacation. I am lazy enough 
to say that I would like to fly high in a 
hammock by the seashore while the hot 
wave waved itself out. Such vacations 
are not for farmers while drought, blight, 
Cabbage worms and ragweeds are at the 
bat, and the opposing pitcher has a lame 
arm. Possibly an account of Sunday, 
August 12, at Hope Farm, may interest 
readers. For a week the sun had 
glared at us. Oh! how hot Saturday 
night was. Now and then a little purr 
of a breeze would creep out of the or¬ 
chard, but it could only send one into a 
doze to dream of being roasted in an 
oven. Morning brought the same glar¬ 
ing sun, without breeze enough to turn 
the windmill! 
The Hope Farmers needed more 
grace than the day had in sight to make 
a Sunday out of it. We were too much 
like cats and dogs. The Madame had 
a headache. Aunt Jennie nearly gave 
herself a Turkish bath before her bis¬ 
cuits were done. The Cutting had a 
tooth that seemed to be affected by the 
heat, for it puffed out her cheek and 
bored into her gum with every fang. 
When I see a person showing so much 
cheek as the Cutting did, I realize what 
a blessing it is, after all, to lose your 
back teeth, and thus be able to laugh at 
the toothache! For breakfast we had 
oatmeal and cream, hot biscuits and 
fishballs and in spite of the hot weather 
there was very little left over. Church 
and Sunday school are closed during 
August, so the minister was not disap¬ 
pointed at the non-appearance of the 
Hope Farm folks. Hugh gave us an air 
of respectability by donning a high col¬ 
lar, but the rest of us joined the ranks 
of the “shirt-waist men”—considering 
collar as a part of the waste. The Cut¬ 
ting’s tooth got so bad that she finally 
started for town—10 • miles away—to 
have a tooth carpenter attend to it. 
Dan took her to the station, and he car¬ 
ried a big wet sponge fastened to the top 
of his bridle. 
The Barn Stock put in the day at 
pasture. Even the little calf was tied 
beneath a shady tree. The horses 
lounged about in the sun or stood un¬ 
der the big hickory with drooping heads. 
The old cow was the most sensible one 
of the lot. She stood in the mud below 
the spring, letting the cool water trickle 
around her feet. She looked happy 
enough as she stood there chewing ner 
cud. Peter the pony never turned a 
hair, but kept on eating grass. The flies 
had stung his neck and shoulders, and 
the little fellow had rubbed himself raw, 
but a few paintings with Shoo Fly 
healed the wounds and made him happy. 
Old Franko, the lame horse, stood under 
an apple tree with his lame leg lifted to 
favor it. He looked like one weary of 
life, but let an apple fall from the tree 
and he would turn as quick as a colt to 
capture it. Billy Berkshire, Jr., Charlie 
Chester and the rest of the pork gang 
bored into the earth for comfort. The 
chickens went around with open 
mouths. A group of them got into 
trouble by trying to burrow in the moist 
soil around the Madame’s sweet peas. 
Still the sun glared on. A breeze 
sprang up, but it was like the breath 
from an oven, and instead of cooling us 
it rubbed tne heat in. 
The Farm Crops. —By 10 o’clock the 
blades of the fodder crops began to 
crinkle up. The sorghum went first, 
and then the Kaffir corn. It did me good 
to see our good old Thoroughbred flint 
corn standing up green and smooth, 
while these boasted dry-weather crops 
were quitting. Our Kansas friends tell 
us great things about Kaffir and its abil¬ 
ity to live without water. Side by side 
with our flint corn—it simply quits and 
calls like a baby for water. Think of 
a Jerseyman making a Kansan dry up. 
The cabbage wilted by noon, after a 
brave stand. We had cultivated them 
four times and hoed them once, and the 
soil ’’’as as mellow and fine as it could 
be, out the sun was too much for them. 
The potatoes felt sick. Where we used 
the soda-Bordeaux they stood up well. 
The Florida potatoes didn’t like it. The 
early varieties were nearly dead. The 
continued heat had done their business, 
and the vines just lay on the ground 
and cried out the story of our mistakes. 
We didn’t use the Bordeaux Mixture 
when we should have done so. The 
vines were so strong and green that we 
thought they were all right without it. 
We didn’t insure them, and this fearful 
and continued heat simply “knocked 
them out.” Then again, I now realize 
that we did not cultivate enough. We 
should have kept the cultivators run¬ 
ning. As it is the heat has baked the 
soil like a brick, and we shall have only 
a fair crop. The heat made all these 
things very evident. What a scorcher 
it was! Even the plantains curled up. 
The big cornfield looked troubled. The 
pumpkins in the cow peas acted as 
though every friend had left them. The 
one crop that danced and kicked up its 
heels at the heat was the crop of cow 
peas! Why, they were happier even 
than the ragweed! I never fully real¬ 
ized before what the cow-pea crop is 
to mean to many a dry old hillside 
which needs humus and yet cannot pro¬ 
duce it in ordinary crops. 
Hopes for Rain. —I can tell you that 
our hopes were wilted by noon. I 
couldn’t see how crops or children could 
stand much more of it. Shortly after 
12 there came a sudden puff of cool wind, 
and a cloud began to form in the south¬ 
west. Quicker than I can tell it the 
stifling heat was gone. The windmill 
turned so hard that we had to shut it 
off, and great angry clouds darkened the 
sky. Up the road came a great 
bus full of people. They were 
afraid of the clouds and drove into 
our barn for shelter. “Now it’s 
coming sure,” I said, but something like 
a great finger seemed to part tne clouds 
and push them to left and right till the 
same, hot old sun came streaming 
through. The visitors drove off and we 
went in to dinner—one crop at least so 
well cultivated by Aunt Jennie and the 
Madame that it came to a head. We 
had for dinner baked chicken, potatoes, 
Lima beans, tomatoes, bread and butter 
and lemon ice. The gravy was done to 
a turn, and there was only one small 
part of one chicken left. A fellow is 
never chicken-hearted when his stom¬ 
ach is well lined with chicken and we 
were still hopeful about that rain. All 
through the afternoon the clouds formed 
and passed away. One by one they 
came nearer to us, but still no rain. It 
was cooler, though, and when evening 
came we were still hopeful, for the 
leaves on the Kaffir and sorghum had lost 
their wrinkles, and the cabbage had re¬ 
gained its nerve. Charlie, Aunt Jennie, 
and the two Scions drove over to meet 
the Cutting, who came back with one 
less tooth and minus several aches, also 
less cheek. The children considered her 
a heroine when they heard of ihe “four 
prongs” on that tooth. It was dark 
when i.ney got home, but good old Frank 
knew the way. The Madame had pre¬ 
pared our light supper. Just as the first 
sound of the wheels was heard the little 
Bud came running to me to say “It’s 
raining! It’s raining!” Sure enough the 
first sprinkles had come. Old Frank 
trotted through the gate into the win¬ 
dow light with a frame of rain drops 
around him. By the time Charlie and 
Hugh got the wagon under cover it 
poured. I went out on the porch and 
sat in the dark just enjoying every drop 
of that glorious rain. The little Bud 
had heard us talking about the drought, 
and how the crops were suffering. She 
came stealing up to me in the dark and 
patted my arm as she said in her chirpy 
little voice: 
Oh, Father — ain’t you gladf Ain’t you 
glad! 
A Good Ending. —Yes! Yes! The 
Hope Farm folk were all glad. We had 
much to be thankful for. It was long 
after 8 o’clock before we had our simple 
supper. We had a supply of Uneeda 
biscuits a piece of cheese, butter, a dish 
of baked apples and a cake. Charlie 
got in ahead of us in feeding the calf 
and there was no milk, but tnat rain 
was like the finest wine to the family of 
a cold-water man. After supper the 
singers piped up for a little sacred con¬ 
cert and in good time the Hope Farm 
folks “turned in.” The light went out 
and we were glad enough to turn earth¬ 
ly cares over to the great Giver of the 
blessed rain. The farm was in good 
hands. Through the soft dreamy whirl 
that fills the mind before sleep came the 
voice of the little Bud! 
“Ain’t you glad? Ain’t you glad?” 
Glad? Why of course! We had so 
many things to make us glad that they 
ate up the troubles and grew fat on the 
diet. There was old Franko getting over 
his lame leg. There never was such a 
pear crop on our trees, the corn crop 
looks better every day—why there are 
hundreds of things coming our way. 
Ain’t you glad? 
Well, I rather think so—but how about 
you and you and you t H. w. c. 
USING FERTILIZERS ON PASTURE. 
One of our readers in Vermont asks us 
the following questions: Will it pay to 
apply commercial fertilizers to permanent 
pastures, having a fair stand of grasses, 
and comparatively free from weeds? Our 
own judgment would be that it would not 
pay to apply fertilizers; certainly not in 
the average pasture. We should suppose 
that nitrogen would be the element chiefly 
needed, and we doubt the wisdom of using 
nitrogen except on crops that return more 
direct income than can be obtained from a 
pasture. 
I have never used fertilizers on pas¬ 
tures myself, but one of my neighbors 
has so used them, and in his experience 
with satisfaction. But with him pastur¬ 
age was more valuable than with the 
average dairyman. He would probably 
consider pasturage worth to him 60 cents 
to 75 cents per week per head. He used 
a complete high-grade fertilizer, and 
thought the returns as good from pas¬ 
ture as from any field to which he ap¬ 
plied it. M. M. 
Massachusetts. 
Generally speaking, I believe no one 
has demonstrated that it pays to use 
commercial fertilizers upon the so-called 
permanent pastures common to New 
England. The inquiry perhaps does not 
allude to the exact conditions which I 
refer to, as “permanent pastures having 
a fair stand of grasses and comparative¬ 
ly free from weeds” would indicate bet¬ 
ter conditions than the normal. I have 
had experience in the use of commercial 
fertilizers in which nitrogen, largely in 
the form o. nitrate of soda, predom¬ 
inated and secured fair returns in sea¬ 
sons with plenty of rain, but at other 
times scarcely any effect was noticed. 
My oelief is that our permanent pastures 
are of little value other than very early 
in the season. When one begins to ap¬ 
ply commercial fertilizers to them, it is 
believed that the same amount, if ap¬ 
plied upon a much smaller area of culti¬ 
vated land, will give far greater returns. 
Even with a very large area of available 
permanent pasturage, I have found that 
soiling pays far better and is more eco¬ 
nomical. Many of these pastures, I 
thoroughly believe, will be utilized in 
the future for forests, which the land is 
well adapted for, provided modern meth¬ 
ods are resorted to. f. w. bane. 
New Hampshire Ag’l College. 
My judgment is that a man who has 
a permanent pasture, free from weeds, 
and with a fair stand of grasses, that is 
fairly well stocked with cattle, but not 
overstocked, can keep it up better by 
the ordinary manure of the animals 
than by attempting to fertilize with 
commercial fertilizers. In other words, 
I believe that it is wiser for him to put 
his fertilizer on to the soiling crop than 
upon the pasture. Nitrogen would be 
the most largely needed in the long run, 
and it is doubtful whether the increase 
would pay the investment. If a man 
has a pasture which is badly run down, 
which is of such a physical character 
that it could be renovated by tillage, fer¬ 
tilization might likewise very properly 
be used in its renovation, but I doubt 
whether for a permanent pasture whieh 
is not to be plowed it would be wise to 
make much investment in this manner. 
All this is judgment, however, and not 
based upon experiment. 
JOSEPH L. IIILDS. 
Vermont Exp. Station. 
m 
ffigSHUSESL* 
for one dollar re¬ 
ceive by freight 
prepaid, one of 
our famous 
Dietz 
Crystal 
Lanterns 
you are simply 
"standing in 
your own light ” 
by failing to 
"stand in ours. ” 
This Lantern is as thoroughly good 
as sixty years of Lantern building 
have rendered possible. 
It is strongly put together, con¬ 
venient of adjustment, has Glass 
Oil Pot, which cannot leak and as 
a "light-giver” it stands alone. 
Perhaps our little illustrated cata¬ 
logue of Lanterns might interest 
you ? Shall we mail it ?—’tis free. 
R. E. DIETZ COMPANY 
87 Laight Street 
Established in 1840. New York 
Cider Mills. 
8- Gallons to 8 Barrtls 
Send for Circular to 
Cutaway Harrow Co., 
HIGGANUM, CONN. 
IDE 
MACHINERY 
I Best and cheapest. 
' Send for catalogue. 
BOOMER & B0SCHERT 
..„ PRESS CO.. 
Wliter Street* 
SYRACUSE, N. w. 
When Your 
Chores Are Done 
THE. ggp^FROST 
fSrr 
write for our catalogue. Tells all about the best 
fence made. See our Exhibit at Fairs. 
THE FROST WIRE FENCE CO., Cleveland, 0. 
That “Peculiar” Wire 
used in Page Fences is all drawn at our mills. 
PAGE WOVEN WIRE FENCE CO., ARRIAN, MICH. 
Rife Hydraulic Engine 
Pumps water without any atten¬ 
tion or expense for 
R R I GAT ION. 
Big Increase In Crop. 
Independent of Rain. 
Higher Prloea. 
Early Crops. 
POWER SPECIALTY CO., 126 Liberty Street, NEW YORK. 
