4oo 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
.Tune 4 
possible to avoid forming sores on the teats. Milking 
tubes can be used to advantage. If sores do form, 
apply any bland ointment, as benzoated oxide of zinc 
ointment, or a mixture of equal parts of spermaceti 
and almond oil. The milk should not be used from 
infected cows. f. l. kilborne. 
"PERPETUATED PALMS.” 
HOUSE PI, ANTS THAT LAST FOREVER. 
How They are Prepared and Sold. 
Every city house of any pretensions must be decor¬ 
ated with palms or other foliage plants, and these are 
often required in places where no plant can live for 
any length of time. Draughty halls, dark reception 
rooms, and chilly corridors must be decorated with 
plants, and, owing to the short time which these 
decorations remain in perfection, they are a source of 
revenue to the florists who make a specialty of liired- 
out plants. As a substitute for these perishable 
plants it is now possible to buy palms, ferns and 
grasses, mummified by some chemical process, so that 
they retain the color, texture and shape of their grow¬ 
ing condition. There are several dealers in these 
plants in New York, and they assert that their prod¬ 
uct commands a large sale. One of these dealers was 
asked where the plants were prepared, and how made. 
“ They are prepared right here in New York,” he 
answered. “The process came originally from Ger¬ 
many, and some dealers say that their plants are still 
prepared there, but ours are all treated in New York. 
We get the natural plants from Florida and the West 
Indies. The process is, of course, a secret. I may 
only say that the plants are placed in a chemical 
bath, which preserves the natural color and texture, 
and effectually prevents any withering or decay; they 
are then pressed, and spread out into natural shape.” 
The plants displayed consisted of several varieties 
of palms, chiefly Livistonas, Kentias and Arecas; 
some of the stiffer ferns, such as Pteris and Cyrtomium, 
and a fringe-like little grass, Isolepis, a member of 
the Papyrus family, which is often used as an edging 
on greenhouse benches. The palms were, at a cursory 
glance, exceedingly lifelike. The trained eye would 
detect a slight change in color, the green being of a 
slightly harder shade than in life, and it would appear 
that the color was washed over the leaf, rather than 
formed within its tissues. The one point which at 
once revealed something artificial to a florist or botan¬ 
ist, would be entirely passed over by an ordinary ob¬ 
server. This was the wrapping of canvas-like fiber at 
the base of the leaf-stalks, in the large specimens 
prolonged to form a slender trunk. There are many 
palms which show this fibrous wrapping ; in some 
species it is present in such quantity as to suggest the 
work of art, rather than Nature, having exactly the 
texture of loosely-woven sacking. But it is not present 
in all palms, and the varieties noted among those 
artificially preserved possess this characteristic in but 
a limited degree. The dealer was asked why this 
fiber is used. 
“ The fibrous wrapping at the base helps to keep the 
leaves in position and, where there is a simulated 
trunk, it serves to hide the juncture of the leaf stalks. 
Without being botanically accurate, the fiber certainly 
adds to the natural appearance of the palms. The 
palm is firmly fixed in its pot with plaster, over which 
is a covering of green moss. The palms are more 
easily prepared than any of the other plants. Some 
of the harder and coarser ferns are prepared without 
difficulty, but so far, it has proved impossible to pre¬ 
serve the delicate Maidenhair. Some fine grasses are 
readily prepared, but plants with pithy stems do not 
go through the process in a satisfactory manner.” 
“ Are these preserved plants used anywhere except 
in clubs, restaurants, and theaters ? ” 
“Yes, they are very largely sold for private houses. 
You know many city reception rooms are very dark, 
so that it is almost impossible to keep plants alive, 
and our preserved specimens are very useful for 
decorating such places. We even sell them to people 
who have conservatories of their own. Experiments 
are now being made in the preservation of cut flowers 
by a similar process, but so far, the results have not 
been satisfactory.” 
While these plants are certainly natural in appear¬ 
ance, there is, to the genuine plant-lover, something 
meretricious about them—it is like using stage proper¬ 
ties in private life. For several years, leaves of the 
Cycas, commonly called the Sago palm, have been 
prepared by some such process for use as funeral 
wreaths, and some of these were noted among the 
“ perpetuated ” palms; but their appearance was in¬ 
jured by the use of the canvas-like fiber for the trunk, 
instead of the rough, charred-looking natural trunk 
of the Cycas. Some Papyrus plants, supposed to be 
“ perpetuated ”, were obviously “ made-up ”. While a 
great improvement over some of the artificial plants 
seen in some restaurants, where we see such anomalies 
as Begonia plants bearing lily blooms, these “ perpet¬ 
uated ” specimens §eem best adapted to the theater or 
hotel, rather than the home. A prominent New York 
florist, asked his opinion as to their effect upon the 
plant trade, expressed himself as follows : 
“ Hotels and other business places—but always of 
the second, third and fourth class—use a good many 
of these plants. They are, also, used in theaters. 
But the better class of people, even in stores and 
public places, do not care for them, and look upon 
them as a cheap article, though they are not cheap, 
and in fact, some of those people who have tried them 
have told me that they proved to be no less expensive 
than natural plants. While some are still buying and 
using them, a great many practical people are chang¬ 
ing back to the natural plants again. I can assure 
you that few of these plants are used in private dwell¬ 
ings. When they first came out, I remember that 
several private houses were furnished with a few of 
them ; but as soon as they got dusty, and the novelty 
was worn off, they had to go, and they were replaced 
by the real article. There is a place for such things; 
and, in theaters and other ordinary public places, 
where they are placed at a respectable distance from 
the immediate view of the eye, they are all right; 
they are decorative, and at a distance, they don’t show 
the dust and their unnatural green color. But even 
there they look dead—which they are; and certainly, 
living people, it seems to me, would desire the real 
article rather than anything which looks as though it 
might be real, but upon coming closer to it, turns out 
to be an imitation. 1 am not the least alarmed as to 
these artificial plants affecting a permanent interfer¬ 
ence with the real live decorative plant business, and 
ONCE A ROCK; NOW A HOLE! Fig. 177. 
1 believe that evei’y florist shares the same view. They 
will have their day, and go like a good many other 
things which were not real, while the true, real thing 
will remain.” E. t. r. 
ROCKLAND FARM ECONOMY. 
Potato Failures. — I have been growing potatoes 
for six or eight years, and I have never yet had a 
successful crop as far as profit is concerned. I began 
by plowing a piece of fairly good sod in the Fall and 
top-dressing it in the Spring. This was a failure, as the 
manure was too coarse, and there was, therefore, not 
enough plant food. Then I took another piece of fairly 
good land, and applied a light dressing of fertilizer, 
and failed for the same reason. Then I plowed a piece 
of rich land and added 32 loads per acre of good 
manure. I raised nearly 200 bushels of potatoes, but 
the scab ruined about half of them. This was the 
first appearance of scab, and I had hitherto not seen 
the necessity of treating the seed. That year, I had 
planted northern-grown seed, and wa agreeably sur¬ 
prised at the great difference in its favor. The next 
year, I planted the same seed, as I believed the differ¬ 
ence in seed was caused by variety rather than its 
place of growth. I went back to commercial fertilizer, 
but applied a small dose, and the result was another 
failure. Then I concluded that to raise potatoes, 1 
must have a piece of rich land to start with, plenty of 
good commercial fertilizer, and northern-grown seed. 
I got all three, the seed costing me $10 per acre, the 
fertilizer $5, and that year I grew potatoes. And so did 
every one else, for most of mme were sold at 25 cents a 
bushel. So that nearly all I have to show for six or 
eight years’ potato growing is the fact that, to grow 
potatoes, I must have exceedingly rich land in good 
mechanical condition, and good seed. 
Then why do I grow them ? Because of the delight¬ 
ful possibility of what they may do, and the excellent 
stand of grass that I get on my potato land. I have, 
however, reduced mj^ acreage from five to two acres, 
for I see no reason why there should not be a return 
of the former low prices. And then potatoes are such 
a nice crop with which to experiment. One year, I 
had four rows of Rural New-Yorker No. 2, seed of each 
row being grown in a different State, and there was 
not enough difference to pay for the freight. Now I 
am trying to get cheaper seed, and am trying “second- 
crop” seed, for if they do well, 1 can grow them my¬ 
self, and save a big seed bill. I have second-crop, 
northern-grown, my own grown, and some from Ber¬ 
muda planted side by side, and am watching for the 
harvest with interest. I always did enjoy making 
such experiments when I could. It takes a good deal 
from the hard work o ’ farming to have little experi¬ 
ments of this kind going on right on the farm, and to 
me, it adds a great deal to the pleasure of getting 
one’s living from the farm, even if it does not always 
add to the profits. 
“Shooting Rocks”; How It Is Done. —This espe¬ 
cial line of economics did not take place on this farm, 
for I have been fortunate enough to have the rocks 
removed by former generations ; but a neighbor was 
not so fortunate, and hearing the reports of his 
“ shootings”, I went over to see him. I found him 
about to begin operations on an ugly-looking rock 
that showed about six inches above the surface, and 
which was a botheration every time the field was 
plowed, cultivated or cut. With an iron bar, he 
sounded around it until he found the straightest side, 
then with the bar, a hole was made about two feet 
deep slanting enough so that the end of it would be 
under the rock. A “stick” (one-half pound) was 
crumbled in the hands, let run in the hole, and pressed 
lightly down with a broom handle ; then a piece of 
fuse tw r o feet long was put in, having a cap on the 
end, and another “ stick ” was crumbled on top of the 
first. This was so that the cap would explode in the 
dynamite. Then earth was filled in the hole and tamped 
lightly with the broom handle, a match applied, and 
we all set out on a brisk walking match until we got 
out of reach. There was a report and a hole in the 
ground (see Fig. 177), and pieces of broken rock scat¬ 
tered about the field were all that was left of the 
troublesome rock. The dynamite cost for the one 
pound 7K cents, the fuse and the cap about a cent, so 
the cash outlay was about nine cents, and the time of 
making the explosion was about 15 minutes. There was 
the broken stone to be hauled off, but in this case, he 
sold the stone for 50 cents a perch, so that what he 
got for the stone more than repaid him for hauling. 
Often a small rock, say three or four feet in diam¬ 
eter, will be turned out of the hole but not broken, 
then a stick or two is laid on the top of the rock, and 
a bucket of mud (with all the small stones carefully 
taken from it) is placed on the dynamite, the charge 
fired as before, and a broken stone is the result. The 
thing wherein most failures by beginners are made, is 
by not putting enough dynamite under the rock. One 
blast I saw was a case in point; after the blast, the 
stone was in almost the same position as before, but 
we saw by the impression on the soft earth that the 
stone had rolled to the top of the hole, and almost 
rolled out, and then for want of a half stick more, 
had rolled back again. Put enough under to do the 
work, or you lose all that you do put under. Another 
caution is to get as far away from the rock as the fuse 
will let you, or else get behind some tree and close 
up to the trunk. I saw a shutter of a house broken 
by a blast that was fired fully 100 yards away. This 
was, of course, an exceptional case, but one does not 
want to get hit, even by an exceptional piece of rock. 
P. R. CROSBY. 
Fire Blight in Georgia. 
G. G. //., Kirkwood , Ga.—l have an orchard containing about 
000 pear trees, also apple, peach and plum trees, of which I came 
into possession last Fall. Finding signs of zynistie blight, I 
pruned away all apparently diseased llinbs, and fully one-half of 
the new growth during the mild days of Winter. The orchard is 
practically fully leafed, laden with fruit, some pears as large as 
hiekorynuts, some apples formed. The blight has attacked vigor, 
ously almost every jjear tree, the attack beginning all over, at 
the ends of the twigs, simultaneously turning fruit, leaves, etc., 
black, all very rapidly. Some of the apple trees are suffering 
from it, also, or the trouble with them may be sunscald, but I 
doubt it. It has even attacked what they call in the South a 
cottonwood tree, a tree bearing a large, very fragrant, trumpet¬ 
shaped and lavender-colored flower, and in the Fall what appears 
to be clusters of nuts, but are really large seed-pods. Is there 
anything I can do to save the orchard ? 
Ans. —The case described is one of Fire blight. 
There is no remedy so far as scientific and practical 
men know, beyond the cutting out of all diseased 
parts in the Fall or Winter. This is understood by 
G. G. H., I think, and perhaps was done by him quite 
thoroughly last Winter. One thing is quite essential, 
that the cutting back be six inches or more below 
where there is any sign of affection, that no disease 
germs be left in the living tree. The very act of cut¬ 
ting back severely, as G. G. II. did, induces a state of 
growth which is very susceptible to the attacks of the 
disease germs in the air. The more tender the growth 
the more easily they can enter. Neighboring orchards 
often infect those which are well cared for. 
H. E, VAN LEMAN, 
