798 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
November 26 
each. Occasionally an ox far exceeds this weight, ap¬ 
proaching nearly to two tons. On our eastern oxen, 
we rarely see a pair of horns that measure over four 
feet from tip to tip, but those of the Hungarian cattle 
frequently measure over five feet, and the Bechuana 
breed of the Hottentots and Kaffirs are said to have 
horns measuring 13 feet from tip to tip, measured 
along the curvature. Some of the horns of the wild 
South American breeds are. also, very large. Remains 
of the early wild cattle in Europe now in the British 
Museum show skulls that measure a yard in length 
and three feet six inches between the roots of the 
horns. 
A hornless yoke of oxen is an absurdity, almost a 
monstrosity, yet they are seen occasionally. The 
polled breeds have been produced by continuous selec¬ 
tion for breeding of individuals having the shortest 
horns. But nowadays, the up-to-date farmer does not 
wait to dishorn his cattle by the slow process of nat¬ 
ural selection. He either takes a saw or a dishorning 
pruner. and cuts off the horn—a most revolting and 
bloody deed—or he applies a little strong caustic to 
the root of the horn in the young calf, and the horn 
stops growing. 
The Ox a Teacher. —Speaking of the calf, one 
should not forget the youth-time of the ox. Surely, 
many a New England boy will remember his first pair 
of young steers as long as he remembers anything. 
The breakiner of those steers was a test of the man¬ 
liness of the boy. The father generally looked on and 
stayed neutral. Meanwhile, the boy broke the steers, 
and the steers broke the boy. The benefit was mutual. 
If no necks were broken, that was one of the good 
fortunes of rural life. The boy learned 
how to keep his patience and use his 
lash and expletives with judgment— 
keeping an eye on his father—while 
the steer learned that prime lesson for 
an ox—obedience—not to steer but to 
be steered. 
As an illustration of the occasional 
penchant for getting panic-stricken 
that overtakes the plodding yoke- 
people, an incident that lately came 
to notice may be related. A farmer 
was plowing with his ox team on a 
big, quiet farm near the State line 
between New York and Connecticut. 
All was going smoothly, with due al¬ 
lowance for stones, when the team 
stopped suddenly and stared at an 
object that was coming over the fence 
Even the farmer looked twice at the 
apparition. But the oxen scarcely 
waited to look twice. With a snort, 
tossing horns and switching tails, 
they sounded a retreat, and stopped 
not until they reached the barn with 
a few remnants of plow at the end 
of the chain. It seems that an old 
demented individual was accustomed 
to roam across lots over that region. 
On this day, he wore a particularly 
shocking bad hat of the stove-pipe 
order, and it proved too much for bovine nerves. 
Bos Taurus !—Such is the Latin designation of 
our species of ox. One wonders how many of the 
lads and lasses, when calling the cows from the past¬ 
ures, know that their mellow “ Co boss” is an echo of 
the old Latin. Or again one wonders how many 
farmers feel a twinge of conscience when they put the 
wire muzzles on their patient team as they go to plow, 
and remember the Scriptural injunction not to muzzle 
the ox that treadeth out the corn. Oh, well, we do 
not use them to tread corn ! A nd when we are through 
with them, we turn them out, often still yoked to¬ 
gether, to wander over the rocky pasture, to eat. and 
lie, and rest, and rise, and chew the cud, and switch 
the flies in unison. 
If Oxen Could Talk. —But the greatest value of 
an ox to-dav is as a balm for tired and super-sensitive 
nerves. When an invalid leaves the city with his 
sensitory organization fairly sore, “fought to a 
frazzle”, as Gen. Gordon said of his corps in the war, 
and comes out in the country to recuperate, there is 
something in the ox that appeals to him. Here is a 
creature that does not run up elevated railway stairs, 
two steps at a time, or write articles “under pres¬ 
sure”, or indulge in Delmonico dinners. Therefore, 
his nerves are nearly faultless. He does not worry. 
He does not care a cud whether ledgers balance or not 
or how violently “industrials” and railway bonds 
play see-saw in the stock exchange. As he balances 
himself slowly on one foot before condescending to 
put forward another, he seeems to say: “ Brother, 
take your time ! You will find my pictures on the 
monuments of the Pharaohs and the obelisks of the 
dynasty of Thotmes. My bones are in the caves of 
the Lake Dwellers, and my history is recorded in the 
oldest books of the Hindus and Hebrews. I was 
hunted and tamed before the Stone Age. It was I who 
made the wealth of the patriarch Abraham, and it was 
I who furnished the Psalmist with his picture of 1 the 
cattle on a thousand hills’. I have been used as 
money, and been worshiped as a god. But my race 
would never survive for thousands of years if I lived 
like a man in Wall Street. Therefore, take things 
easy! Draw long breaths! You can lift a weight 
twice as easily if you do it slowly, and let every atom, 
and corpuscle, blood vessel and tissue, have time to 
do its best without straining. I am only an ox, but I 
can give you points about work. You may not do as 
much in an hour, but you will do more in a lifetime; 
at least you will live more happily, and your children 
will rise up and call you blessed.” 
So the ox team passes slowly out of sight in the dis¬ 
tance. The indispensable cow, with the benevolent 
udder, and the idle beef cattle of the prairies survive. 
But the ox team is primitive, and primitive things 
are going before the advance of “ improvement,” im¬ 
provement that does improve often, but not always, 
as yet. Meanwhile, old ox, farewell ! Though out of 
sight, we shall think of you sometimes as inhabiting 
a Land of Leisure, where there is neither hurry nor 
worry, neither loads, nor goads ! 
Connecticut. cnAS. h. cbandall. 
R. N.-Y.—Fig. 360, on our first page, shows a yoke 
of oxen hitched to a modern wagon, driven over a 
modern road, by a very much up-to-date driver. Fig. 
361 shows an outfit much more ancient in appearance, 
the man with the gad being much more in keeping 
with his team and cart. There is a great contrast 
and a world of suggestion in these two pictures. Are 
these latter days such a great improvement over the 
former ones ? 
WHAT THEY SAY. 
“Rejected” Meat. —The National Provisioner is 
responsible for this statement: 
It is claimed that, at least 100 cheap restaurants in New York 
rely on their meat supplies from the “ rejections ” of the retail 
butcher shops. The cooks in these establishments are tried men 
at the business, and get good wages. With the careful addition 
of spices and other condiments, coupled with their manipulative 
ability in the culinary art, these artists are able to render 
palatable, meats which otherwise would not be acceptable in the 
humblest tenement. 
A friend who is in the provision business says that 
he once sold two beef tongues to a man who ran a 
small restaurant. The man came back and said that 
the tongues were tainted. “ But,” he said, “ I put a 
little more mustard on them, and they went all right.” 
“You pays your money and you have no choice”— 
when you eat at a city restaurant ! 
Second-Crop Clover —Four weeks ago, we told of 
a reader in Pennsylvania who is trying to obtain a 
quantity of second-growth clover hay. It seemed to 
us strange that this article could not be obtained, and 
we wrote to about 30 of our readers in various parts 
of the country only to find that first-class, second- 
crop clover is about as scarce as gold, this year. Very 
little of it was cut, and even when it was cut, much 
of it was spoiled in curing. Farmers seem to have 
changed their plan regarding their clover crop. The 
general custom now is to pasture it for hogs or cattle, 
or clip it and leave the clippings on the ground. Our 
friend says that he has now obtained a quantity of this 
clover in northern New York. He advertised in sev¬ 
eral agricultural papers, but only one man, who is a 
subscriber to The R. N.-Y., answered the advertise¬ 
ment—though this one supplied the clover. He 
thought it was strange that the advertisement re¬ 
ceived so little attention, but now he knows that he 
was advertising for something that farmers did not 
have. 
Raspberries in Kansas. — Noticing the report of 
the Michigan man who (page 733) is growing raspber¬ 
ries on a large acreage, I desire to tell you of a friend 
who is doing the same. J. C. Banta, who has been 
growing fruit on a 40-acre farm, planted mainly to 
small fruits of different varieties, found his 40-acre 
farm too small, and has now purchased an 80-acre 
farm near an adjoining town west of us. On this 
farm, he has planted 4,000 apple trees, all of Missouri 
Pippins, and ntends to plant 40 acres to Kansas rasp¬ 
berries. He will, also, grow strawberries and black¬ 
berries, but Missouri Pippin apples and Kansas rasp¬ 
berries will be his specialties, as he is growing fruit 
for market only. Mr. Banta’s experience in the rais¬ 
ing of fruits for profit has covered many years, and 
he has decided on those varieties most profitable, as 
provfd by his own experience, for his locality. 
Kansas. A. h. griksa. 
Farming in Massachusetts.— The article on New 
England Farming, page 688, so well represents the 
ideas of a certain class of men, that a few words in 
reply may not come amiss. Farming is just as much 
a business as any other occupation. I make the state¬ 
ment without fear of contradiction that a larger pro¬ 
portion of the farmers get a living on less hours of 
productive labor, than those of any other occupation 
whose workers depend upon manual labor for a living. 
If a man invests in a blacksmith shop, does any one 
expect the shop to support him ? Why 
should he be expected to attend to 
his business better than the other ? 
Neither are the men who work 12 to 
15 hours a day our most successful 
farmers, and the man who works but 
an average of three to five has no 
right to expect as much as he who 
does a full day’s work. The reference 
to Mr. Hines is very unfortunate, for 
as I understand his farming, he has 
never devoted himself entirely to any 
one specialty. I think that I am safe 
in saying that he would make a liv¬ 
ing without one cent of the profits of 
his peach crop this year, for he still 
keeps his farming operations going, 
and I am safe in saying that his apple 
crop will bring more morey than 
many mechanics earn in a year. The 
location is not an ideal one for 
peaches, and the credit belongs to the 
man on the farm, not the location. 
Massachusetts. h. o. mead. 
Bisulphide of Carbon for Lice.— 
I have tried a little experiment with 
bisulphide of carbon for killing lice. 
In a pen of five hens infested with head 
lice, we tied four small bottles with 
openings about three-fourths of an 
inch in diameter, under the roost poles. 
After two successive night trials, the lice seemed as 
bad as before. During the two following nights, the 
bottles were raised so as to have the openings of the 
bottles about on a level with the top of the hens. This, 
also, apparently had no effect. This pen was one of 
10 in a building 60 feet long, with windows partly open 
at night. In another building of the same size, the 
same tests were made on a like pen that was infested 
with both head lice and mites. In this test, an inspec¬ 
tion of the roosts each morning showed that the mites 
were driven away a considerable distance from the 
bottles, but were not killed. This Ust seemed to show 
that the treatment will keep the hens free from the 
mites at night, and this is the only time, I believe, that 
they trouble the fowls. This is as far as our trials 
went. Another plan would, probably, be successful 
with the head lice. By putting the fowls in a tight 
box, and putting the acid in the box, the lice would, 
undoubtedly, be killed if enough of the acid were 
allowed to evaporate. The danger would be in killing 
the hen at the same time. The acid is very poisonous and 
very inflammable, and these are serious objections to 
its use. For head lice, the use of coal oil, or some 
other insecticide would, probably, be preferable to 
carbon bisulphide, and by treating the roosts with 
the same substance, the mites could be kept under. 
Utah Experiment Station. james dryden. 
Prices and Sales of Hay. 
At the last meeting of the National Hay Associa¬ 
tion, Mr. C. H. Bates, of Boston, gave the results of 
some investigations as to the difference in the hay 
market, caused by the change from horse power to 
electricity and cables in street-car service. He says 
that he started out with the idea that, of course, less 
hay is -required,^because thousands of horses have 
THREE OLD-TIMERS—OXEN, CART AND DRIVER. Fig. 361 
