1900 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
787 
HOPE FARM NOTES. 
Election Night. —It would be hard to 
duplicate the scenes that are enacted in 
New York City on election night. With¬ 
in the range of a modern cannon from 
the City Hall there are nearly 5,000,000 
people. Most of them read a daily paper 
and talk politics. At the end of a Presi¬ 
dential election they want to know the 
result right away. Our folks had not 
been off on a lark for a good while, and 
so we decided to send a delegation to 
the city. Hugh and Aunt Jennie, Uncle 
Ed and the Cutting and the Madame and 
youi’s truly made up the party. Old 
Frank pulled us over to the station, and 
we left the horse and wagon at a stable. 
Some of you good folks will shake your 
heads and say that we are pretty old to 
go skylarking off this way—but we went 
for all that. Many of our readers have 
never been in New York, and do not 
realize how the city is built on a long 
narrow island so that it is impossible to 
enter without crossing the river. We 
came from the west. The night was a 
little hazy, but as viewed from the Jer¬ 
sey shore the great city was a blaze of 
light. High in the air towered the dome 
of the World Building, aflame with a 
white light which meant that McKinley 
was ahead. Far to the north from the 
tower of the Madison Square Garden 
flashed a signal from the Herald which 
told the same story. 
Street Scenes.—As we neared the 
New York side various little figures were 
seen jumping up and down and yelling 
words that you could hardly understand. 
They were newsboys selling “extras,” 
and they did a lively business. Election 
night is a harvest time for these little 
chaps. In a close election people will 
often buy half a dozen different papers. 
The customer rarely asks for change if 
his candidate is ahead. People were 
rushing for City Hall Park, which is on 
the lower part of the Island. A body of 
young men came marching down the 
street shaking great rattles and yelling, 
Fowl Four! Four Years More! 
As we passed up the street we came 
upon a startling scene. It was the ruin 
of the buildings which were destroyed 
by the explosion of a wholesale drug 
store. This great building caught fire 
and blew up, throwing down half a 
dozen buildings which stood near. It 
was a ghastly scene. Great shoots of 
flame from naphtha lamps lighted up 
the vast piles of brick, stone and metal, 
which had been thrown together in a 
mighty tangle. Swarms of men were 
working like human bees at the wreck¬ 
age. Now a piece of iron was pulled out, 
now a brick, now a stone, now a shovel¬ 
ful of waste—thrown into carts and car¬ 
ried off to the dumps to be sorted by the 
Italians. The men worked with strange 
caution. Well they might, for there 
were a score of missing people to be ac¬ 
counted for. The next blow with pick 
or shovel might bring to view all that 
was left of a human body! Thousands 
of people stood about—held back by the 
police—watching with curious eyes as 
the human swarm slowly picked over 
the hideous pile. Hour after hour, by 
day and night, this work goes on. 
A Vast Crowd. —As we waited beside 
the ruins we could hear, far up on 
Broadway, a perfect din of tin horns. 
The great square in front of the City 
Hall was packed solid with people. Here 
and there little ripples or currents could 
be seen slowly moving through this vast 
ocean of humanity. We got into one of 
these and slowly moved with it until at 
last we reached a position close by the 
fountain where three of the newspaper 
bulletins were in sight. The Madame 
climbed on the outer rim of the foun¬ 
tain, where she could look over the 
heads of the people. It is estimated that 
there were 85,000 people packed and 
jammed into that crowd. That means 
more people than there are in the en¬ 
tire State of Nevada! It is one of the 
sensations of a lifetime to look down 
upon such a crowd and think how they 
have ail been drawn together by a com¬ 
mon purpose, and how within a few 
minutes they will scatter into thousands 
of homes—some dejected and discour¬ 
aged, others elated and supremely 
happy. 
Noise to Burn. —From the very first 
the returns favored McKinley. In front 
of the newspaper offices great white cur¬ 
tains were hung, and on these were 
flashed black letters and figures that 
told the story. Now Massachusetts 
spoke, Colorado sent an answering 
growl, Kentucky flashed a message, and 
Maine and Delaware answered. At a 
low estimate i should say that 15,000 of 
these people carried tin horns, and how 
they did, blow them. The news was 
flashed that Kentucky was for Bryan, 
and the Democrats plucked up courage 
and yelled. Bryan’s picture flashed on 
the screen, and every Democratic tin 
horn took a fresh start. Then the Re¬ 
publicans had their inning. “Wisconsin 
100,000 Republican!” shot out on the 
white screen, and then a picture of Mr. 
Bryan upside down. I can tell you right 
now that deafness was a blessing then. 
Thousands of horns belched out a fear¬ 
ful chorus, hats went up in the air and 
people danced up and down for joy. Even 
the Madame took occasion to suggest 
that I ought to buy four horns “to take 
home to the children.” Did I blow those 
horns? Well, there was nothing for me 
to blow about—not a thing on my ticket 
was elected anywhere. Still, the mi¬ 
crobe of enthusiasm was abroad that 
night, and I must say that I sampled the 
horns to see if they would “go.” 
A Great Time. —That’s what it cer¬ 
tainly was. It stirred us up, and we 
shall long remember it. I shall not soon 
forget that scene. The flash of the elec¬ 
tric light over that vast crowd, the shin¬ 
ing eyes and happy faces of those who 
were on the winning side, and the sad, 
gloomy faces of those who saw their 
political idol going down in defeat. They 
would be together on the morrow at 
their daily toil—working for our com¬ 
mon country. The horns brayed on, the 
rattles clattered and the cheer gath¬ 
ered again in the throat, but the quiet 
fountain back of us rippled and whis¬ 
pered as it has always done, and as it 
always will do—just as if it knew that 
all this noise and excitement were mere¬ 
ly the froth on the great ocean of life. 
1 stood in that yelling and howling 
crowd thinking what would happen to 
the world if men could come together 
and feel that way about some of the 
great evils that directly affect them. 
Would it mean revolution? I rather 
think so. Perhaps my cynical friend the 
politician is right when he says that this 
howling and singing over general mat¬ 
ters harms no one and helps tne politi¬ 
cal parties—therefore it is a good thing. 
I haven’t time to tell how we nad a sup¬ 
per and went home on a train crowded 
with roaring patriots. Old Frank hauled 
the company safely up the hills and 
landed them at Hope Farm at 2 A. M. 
That’s a late hour for farmers, but all 
hands were up ready for business later 
in the day. If any of you people want 
a good stirring-up I advise you to see 
New fork on election night if you are 
ever near enough to make the trip. It’s 
worth while to see a crowd. 
Farm Matters. —We have been de¬ 
layed with husking corn, but by the time 
this is printed I hope to have both grain 
and fodder under cover. The barn is 
stuffed full of unhusked corn, and the 
fodder goes into a big “barrack” just 
back of the barn. It is a great satis¬ 
faction to have this store of excellent 
feed on hand. Our horses have had 
nothing but sorghum and corn fodder 
for roughage all through the Fall. . . 
. . Every year I argue with myself as 
to the profit in trying to rake up a stock 
of forest leaves. These leaves make 
good bedding and rich manure. They 
are rich in lime and other minerals. It 
is hard work to get them in large quan¬ 
tities, for they are not easy to handle. 
Usually I conclude that we have other 
work that is more profitable than pick¬ 
ing leaves. . . . We have a fair crop 
of roots. They were grown in the or¬ 
chard. That is not a good place to grow 
beets, for they do not fancy shade. Our 
crop has not been dug yet. We sowed 
yellow turnips after oats and have a fair 
crop. These roots will be fed to the 
stock during December and January. 
Many heads of unsalable cabbage will 
go the same way. . . . Our cabbage 
crop is turning out one of the best of 
the year. There is fair sale for the solid 
heads, and those soft and wormeaten 
make good pig feed. With a good drove 
of pigs on hand there is little waste 
about a cabbage crop. Even when the 
worms ruin it for market the pigs will 
pay a fair price for it. . . . The vol¬ 
unteer potatoes at the top of the hill 
were still growing on November 15. 
They will actually make tubers large 
enough for seed. h. wv c. 
Notes on Grafting. —On the old 
homestead we employed men to graft a 
large number of nearly full-grown trees. 
We always hired them by the day, and 
paid them about double the cost of com¬ 
mon farm help. As many as 10,000 
scions were set in one year. A good 
grafter should receive as much or more 
than mason’s wages. It certainly re¬ 
quires as much skill, and grafting the 
tops of tall trees can be done only in 
mild weather, for a few weeks in the 
year, in this latitude. One of our men 
was quite an artist in shaping the tops; 
cutting as few branches as practical and 
securing the growth of nearly every 
scion. Such a workman should receive 
generous compensation and be furnished 
a helper, also of some gumption, though 
at less wages. I prefer to have grafts 
set by the day, rather than by the piece, 
as it costs less and will be done better; 
though the method outlined by your 
California correspondent (in a Spring 
number of The R. N.-Y.) interested me, 
having new ideas which orchardists will 
do well to remember and practice. Note 
the advice not to strip every sprout 
from the grafted branches as soon as 
they appear. Every farmer’s son, let me 
add, should be taught the theory and 
practice of grafting. Being thus equip¬ 
ped, should business and orchards in¬ 
crease until he is a mere figurehead in 
the establishment, he will have become 
an expert in detecting the faults of 
transient men, whom he may be com¬ 
pelled to employ for that purpose. 
Massachusetts. J. w. adams. 
Late Grass.— In this section most farm¬ 
ers do Fall grass-seeding on rye; wheat is 
but very little raised. The latest I have 
ever sown grass seed was this Fall, Sep¬ 
tember 24, as I generally sow Fall grain 
September 1 to September 10; have never 
failed to get a fair catch. Some farmers 
are sowing grain yet. One farmer I no¬ 
ticed October 25 was sowing grass seed. I 
think that grass seed sown as late as this, 
if ground was in good order, would be all 
right. c. J. n. 
New Baltimore, N. Y. 
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PROSTRATION 
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An Elgin Watch always has the 
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Booklet Free. 
ELGIN NATIONAL WATCH CO. 
£LG1N| • ILL< 
New Feed Mill. 
Special Introductory Price. 
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SHRED 
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W with the WOLVERINE 
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MORE THfiH 50 
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SEND FOR FREE C ATALOGUE. 
Prairie State Incubator Co. 
llonierCliy, Pa# 
Regulating 
orciai tc *™ 111 a * ma11 
yIU nCOUL I Ovestment. That’s 
w hat you get in buying The Kant am llatchcr. 
Hatches every hatchablo egg, often 50 chicks 
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DAYSFREETRIAL>nd4cforcatalogNo23 
ltuckeye Incubator Oo., Springfleld, O. 
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From l$i>.00 Up 
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Free Catalogue. 
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. ow much money you makede- _ 
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llnx i)l), PcsMolnes. Iowa. 
I 
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is only a failure of strength. 
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Get strength of stomach first. 
Your stomach will then look 
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from usual food; and this is 
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body. 
\Ve‘11 send you a little to try if you like. 
SCOTT S’ ’’OWNE, 409 Pearl street, New York. 
VICTOR 
INCUBATORS 
aro made in many sizes to meet 
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GEO. KUTEL CO., Quincy, III. 
Baata—B—raEauraa# 
200-Egg Incubator 
for S12.00 
in construction and 
Hatches < very fertile 
ite for catalogue to-day. 
H. STAHL. Quincy, 111. 
$4,000 Tom * f SO 
tTS-m—* 1 r*W We g p en t 44,(100 on our new book 
'“Ilowto Make Money with Poultry am 
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jpwuto I— 
I0ISTURE. 
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