1902 . 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
787 
Hope Farm Notes 
Election Day.— We spent the day plant¬ 
ing apple trees. The election bothered me 
very little. We voted, of course, but I didn’t 
hitch up Nellie Bly and ride over the county 
trying to rally the doubtful voters. There 
were 200 fine apple trees at the farm .and 
candidates might win or lose for aught we 
cared so long as those trees were well 
started. We made a full day of it. Hugh 
is chief cook at the farmhouse now. The 
sun was just crawling over the eastern 
ridge when he got his fire started and the 
oatmeal boiling. Uncle Ed and I came 
along shortly after. Philip was caring for 
the horses and Charlie was milking. Hugh 
gave us a good breakfast of oatmeal and 
cream, fried bacon, bread and butter and 
apple sauce. He stayed behind to clear up 
the dishes and finish the chores while the 
rest of us mounted the hill for the apple 
planting. As I have said before, most of 
the field was in corn this year. The shocks 
had not yet been husked out. Rye had 
been sown after corn cutting, around the 
shocks, and it was sprouting well. Uncle 
Ed and Charlie went ahead and staked out 
the field. They put lines 32 feet apart 
across the short way and drove their stakes 
after sighting the long way. Philip fol¬ 
lowed and dug small holes where the stakes 
were set and I cut back the trees. 
Why did you do that part of the job? 
Not because it was the easiest, for it 
wasn’t. It seemed almost a shame, even 
to a root pruner, to cut the tops from these 
beautiful trees. I knew the boys wouldn’t 
want to cut them down and so I did the 
job. I will take the responsibility if they 
die or fail, and I want the credit if they 
grow and do what I expect them to. One 
object in cutting the tops back was to 
start out a lower head. If the roots are 
pruned it stands to reason that the top 
must also be cut back, for no one with 
sense will expect a small root to provide 
for a big top. Besides, I want those trees 
to stand solidly in their holes. With a big 
top they would sway and open a hole for 
the water to get in. 
But why do you cut the roots? 
One reason is that we can plant much 
faster and, I think, better. Instead of 
digging out a barrel full of soil from each 
hole we needed only about five lifts of a 
good spade. This, however, is not the 
only or the best reason. My experience is 
that when root-pruned trees are planted in 
small holes, with the earth stamped down 
hard around them, you are reasonably 
sure to get a deep tap-rooted tree. If you 
ask me to explain why this is so you will 
probably corner me, as I am not scientist 
enough to explain it. I think, though, that 
a root will be most likely to follow the 
line of least resistance—that is, go where 
progress is easiest. We try to plant these 
trees so that the bottom of the hole will 
be more open than the sides. I would not 
feel confident of this if we had not dug 
up many root-pruned trees so as to see 
just how they are aiming their guns. It 
seems to me that anyone can see the ad¬ 
vantage of having a tap-rooted tree. 
But do you not go against Nature in do¬ 
ing such pruning? 
In one sense we do—but Nature, like 
some humans, likes to be interfered with 
when her own plans are upset. Left to 
herself Nature would never have dug these 
trees from the nursery row. The nursery¬ 
man can hardly be said to work hand in 
hand with Nature. He wants to force his 
trees and make them as large as possible 
for their age. I would not grow a tree for 
fruit as they are grown in a nursery, for 
the object there is to produce as much 
wood as possible. From my idea of wh.at 
a tree is to do both above and below 
ground, the growing habit of a nursery 
tree is not at all what we want in an or¬ 
chard tree. We are to take the well-grown 
baby and trim and train it for work rather 
than growth. It is not unlike taking a 
boy out of school. You must trim off many 
of the ideas and habits he gained there and 
start him in a new way into the work of 
earning his living. The extra wood you 
cut off his “education” may hurt his feel¬ 
ings, but it won’t hurt his prospects in the 
least, and if we are wise we will be glad 
that it grew. 
But who cares for all this? The only real 
argument for or against this top and bottom 
pruning will be presented later by the 
trees themselves. Uncle Ed and Charlie 
were very anxious to get those trees true 
and in line each way. They lifted and 
carried shocks of corn and sighted along 
the stakes till they became nearly cross¬ 
eyed. That was right, though it will make 
little difference in the end, since this or¬ 
chard is not to be cultivated. I do not care 
if some of the trees are out of line—in fact, 
in this windy hillside a little disorder 
would help break the force of the wind. 
In planting, I let the hole warm out a 
little in the sun, then put the root-pruned 
tree down so that the tap root rested on the 
bottom of the hole. This had been loosened 
by jabbing the spade into it. The roots 
reached out about to the sides of the hole. 
The tree was inclined to the northwest, from 
which quarter most of our strong winds 
come. The top soil was then pushed in, 
around the roots, and stamped down all 
around as hard as the Hope Farm man’s 
rubber boots and all they contained could 
send it. The following day the ground 
around these trees was mauled down hard 
with a heavy log and then the soil hoed 
up so as to bank the trees. Before the 
ground freezes, a^ood coat of manure will 
be put around each tree, leaving a narrow 
circle of open dirt where the trees are 
banked up. We may also wrap the trees 
in tarred paper to keep away the mice. 
This is .all easy to tell, but the sweat 
rolled away from us before we had been 
at it long. It was a glorio.us day—bright 
and clear, and as we worked on the hill 
top we could see all over the county! Hugh 
came up and stamped in a few trees and 
then had to go back and see to his dinner. 
At noon he had it ready—cold beef, boiled 
potatoes and turnips, bread and butter and 
baked apples. After dinner, our voters 
went to the school house to help “save the 
country,” and then we mounted the hill 
again, for the sun goes early to bed on a 
November day among the hills. There are 
some things on a farm that a man can do 
mechanically while his thoughts are else¬ 
where. As I cut and pruned with my 
hands, my head went marching on ahead 
into the years—to the time when, as we 
hope and trust, these mutilated sticks will 
have grown into thrifty trees! The or¬ 
chard will mean much to us. The Madame 
and I will then be older and slower than 
we are now. The slope down from the top 
notch of strength will be easier and more 
hopeful because this hillside follows the 
pink and white promise of Spring with 
the red and golden fulfillment of Autumn. 
The children will watch these trees develop 
till they change this rocky old field into 
a fair and profitable part of the farm. Our 
little folks ought to develop a fairer and 
lovelier side of character as they see these 
shapeless trees take on strength and size 
and beauty! Yes, we are planting more 
than trees on this hillside—hopes, ambi¬ 
tions, love of home and character. 
“Yes,” some cold, doubting thought 
seemed to say, “but what does it all 
amount to? By the time these trees are 
in their prime who will remember the Hope 
Farm man or care what he did? Your 
trees will probably die of neglect. The 
children will doubtless want to sell the 
farm to some speculating fellow who will 
build a cheap town here. When he com'es 
to pull out these trees for building he is 
more likely to curse than to bless you for 
putting the roots so deep into the soil!” 
I suppose such doubts come and argue 
at times with all of us. The good of the 
world has been accomplished in spite of- 
them. He who stops to listen to them is 
like one who stops on a journey when 
night is coming on and every energy need¬ 
ed to reach the end. 
But the boys have little use for the sen¬ 
timent of the thing. When the snadows 
are crawling up the hills, and one has a 
long list of chores to do a tree is a tree 
and nothing more. The holes are all dug 
and I have fallen behind in my pruning. 
Then, again, the head and the hand should 
not be too widely separated when the 
hand carries a knife. I nearly sliced off 
my thumb in pruning a big root! A fellow 
would certainly require tap roots on his 
philosophy if he thumb-pruned his hand! 
We got the trees all planted before the 
sun went down. As the last light flamed 
up in the west I could see dimly outlined 
against the sky, along the top of the ridge, 
the slender sticks which, we hope, will 
grow into our orchard. We are satisfied 
with the start, anyway. 
But what varieties? 
Chiefly Baldwin, McIntosh, Wealthy, 
York Imperial and Sutton. We have a 
few trees of other leading varieties, but 
Baldwin is our stand-by. 
Chalking It Up.— The picture on page 
783, Fih. 320, illustrates a matter that we 
have found quite useful. The blackboard 
is hung on the fence just south of the 
house. I have told how our old stone 
house is jammed up close to the road. The 
Bud has tried her hand as artist. The 
Madame uses the same blackboard in her 
little school. I am satisfied that those 
who try this blackboard plan of advertis¬ 
ing will be surprised to learn how many 
customers they can find on the road. How 
are we to know who wants our goods until 
we tell people what we have to sell? Peo¬ 
ple may pass right by your farm chasing 
after a want or desire while you are 
chasing after a customer to take the very 
thing wanted off your hands. You go 
about as though botn were “it” in a game 
of blind man’s bluff, while a few chalk 
marks on a blackboard would make you 
both see. 
Hope Flat.— The road to it seemed rocky 
rather than flat the other day when we 
ended a visit to the farm by carrying in 
supplies! I carried at least half a bushel 
of potatoes in a big valise, the Graft had 
a bag of apples and the Bud a big pack¬ 
age of celery, while other farm produce 
was scattered among us. There was no 
use disguising the fact that we were farm¬ 
ers, and we were certainly dealing direct 
with the consumer. The world would be 
better off if more farmers could deal direct 
with flat dwellers. If I had my way, how¬ 
ever, the farmer would not wear the flat 
dweller’s clothes. Of course, it takes time 
to reorganize life when people go from the 
freedom of 90 lonely acres to be boxed up 
in a 60x18 feet space. In the house at Hope 
Farm we have about 300 feet of floor space 
‘for each rrtember of the family—in the flat 
there are barely 140 ‘for each member. The 
cellar at the farm contains 8,050 cubic feet 
of storage, with three times as much more 
in sheds outside. In the flat the only stor¬ 
age place is a pantry containing 72 cubic 
feet. So the life of an apple in the farm 
cellar may be 150 days, while the same 
apple taken to the flat might last 10 days! 
I am learning by hard experience some 
remarkable truths about how and why food 
is handled in certain ways in the city. 
Drinking water no better than that at the 
farm is sold for more than many farmers 
obtain for their milk! To me the whole 
system of concentrated life in New York 
is remarkable—though I must admit that 
it is mighty convenient for the women 
folks. I shall have much to tell about it. 
_ H. w. c. 
Hospital Farming. —Our grounds em¬ 
brace 300 acres of good soil, partly river 
bottom, and we produce all our vegetables 
and garden supplies for 450 patients and 80 
employees. Ten acres of this ground only 
produced this year as follows, in fruits: 
12,000 pounds grapes, 100 bushels strawber¬ 
ries, 150 bushels blackberries, 80 bushels 
raspberries, 3.000 watermelons, 6,000 musk- 
melons. At market prices this yield would 
have netted over $1,200. e. S. S. 
Lyons View Hospital, Tenn. 
Sawdust for Strawberries.— I would 
advise J. D. D., page 752, to pass the saw¬ 
dust through his horse stable before apply¬ 
ing it as a mulch to strawberries. The 
drier the sawdust is when put in the stable 
the more liquid it will absorb, and these 
liquids being about three times as valuable 
as the solids, he will readily see that the 
fertilizer he has added to his mulch will 
increase his strawberry crop about one- 
third. The urea being so soluble is readily 
available. It must however be taken into 
consideration that I am located in a milder 
climate than J. D. D.; I am only seven 
miles from the Maryland line, and New 
York State will be likely to need a little 
heavier overcoat. d. m. 
Franklin Co., Pa. 
Fleming’s 3 are free 
if they fail. 
Fistula & Poll Evif 
CURED IN 2 WEEKS. 
Fifteen to 30 days is all the time 
required to cure with Fleming’s 
Fistula and Poll Evil Cure. Other 
remedies require months aud 
often fail. This has never yet 
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A 
■Doom of Lump Jaw 
You need never lose an animal or forfeit 
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Fleming’s Lump Jaw Cure takes off every 
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Easy to use and harmless. 
Spavin Cured mi'HuIm. 
One treatment is usually all that is re¬ 
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ing’s Spavin Cure. No cost if it fails. 
v\ rite today for circulars on any or all the above reme¬ 
dies. State which circulars are wanted. 
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