354 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
May 29 
LIFE HISTORY OF THE PLUM CURCULIO. 
THE “LITTLE TURK” AND IT8 WORK. 
What is the life-history of the curculio? How many egtzn will 
a female curculio lay, and over how many days doeB the layinp 
season for each individual extend? How many generations of 
curculios are there each season? This and other information 
will greatly aid us in fighting this pest. J. B. w. 
Cairo, Ga. 
The plum curculio is a native of America, and ac¬ 
counts of its destructive work on plums can be traced 
in the literature back to as early as 1736. Now there 
is scarcely a plum grower in the United States east of 
the Rocky Mountains who is not too familiar with 
the characteristic crescent trade-mark of this “ Little 
Turk,” as the beetle is sometimes called. The insect 
seems not to have yet scaled the Rockies, and is un¬ 
known outside the United States and Canada. To any 
one who may not be familiar with the appearance of 
the adult insect, I would say, go out and spread a 
sheet on the ground under a plum tree about a week 
after the blossoms have fallen, and then jar some of 
the larger limbs. Rarely will one fail to notice on 
the sheet what resemble very closely little irregular 
chunks of dirt or dead buds jarred from the tree. If 
these be picked up and examined carefully, they will 
be found to have legs snugly curled up against the 
body, which belongs to the plum curculio. They are 
wonderfully pretty creatures when viewed under a 
microscope. An artist whom I engaged to make a 
drawing of one of the curculios said that they were 
worthy of the brush of a Michael Angelo. 
The beetles hibernate in any sheltered nook they 
may find, and come forth in the spring, a few days 
after the blossoms have fallen from the plum trees. 
Growers notice that the outer rows of trees, especially 
if near a hedge or bit of woodland, are the first to be 
attacked, and usually suffer the most from the insect. 
In Georgia, the beetles begin work about April 1, or 
as soon as the fruit is well set; peaches suffer equally 
as much as plums. A few days after the beetles ap¬ 
pear on the trees, their peculiar crescent marks will 
be noticed on the fruit. Comparatively few orchard- 
ists who suffer from this insect have ever watched the 
“ Little Turk ” make its crescent trade-mark. They 
may be seen at work at almost any hour of the day. 
Alighting on a plum, the female beetle makes with 
her jaws, which are at the end of her snout, a small 
cut through the skin of the fruit, then runs the snout 
obliquely under the skin to the depth of about one- 
sixteenth of an inch, and moves it backward and lor- 
ward until the cavity is smooth and large enough to 
receive the egg to be placed in it. She then turns 
around, and, dropping an egg into it, again turns and 
pushes it with her snout to the end of the passage. 
When she is satisfied that the egg is properly placed, 
she proceeds to cut the characteristic crescent-shaped 
slit in front of the egg-hole (see Fig. 156) so as to 
undermine the egg and leave it in a sort of flap, her 
object, apparel’-, to wilt the flesh around the 
egg, acd thus prevent the growing fruit from crush¬ 
ing it. The whole operation occupies about five min¬ 
utes. The stock of eggs at the disposal of a single 
female has been variously estimated at from 50 to 
100, of which she deposits from 5 to 10 a day, usu¬ 
ally. Last year, the beetles kept up their work in 
Georgia from April 1 until nearly the middle of June, 
being the most abundant from May 20 to June 1. 
The egg (see Fig. 156) is of an oval form, of a white 
color, and large enough to b8 distinctly seen with the 
naked eye. By lifting the flap with the finger-nail 
or with the point of a knife, it may be readily found. 
The eggs usually hatch in about a week, and the 
white, footless grub tunnels directly into the flesh of 
the fruit, boring a tortuous tunnel until it reaches 
the center, where it feeds around the stone. It at¬ 
tains full growth in about a month, when it is about 
two-fifths of an inch long. Except in the case of 
cherries, infested fruits usually drop prematurely, 
and the grub finishes its growth in the fruit on the 
ground. When full grown, the grub deserts the fruit, 
buries itself from four to six inches deep, where, 
turning ’round and ’round, it compresses the earth on 
all sides, until a smooth, oval cavity or cell is formed, 
within which, in a few days, it changes to a pupa, 
and in from three to six weeks, is transformed to a 
beetle, which is at first soft but soon hardens, and 
makes its way through the soil to the surface and 
escapes. Sometimes, some of the beetles emerge in 
the summer before those which hibernated have 
finished laying their eggs. This fact misled earlier 
observers into believing that there were two broods 
of the insect annually. We now know that the insect 
is single brooded; those which emerge late in sum¬ 
mer, apparently feed for a time and then go into 
hibernation in secluded spots. There is thus only odo 
generation of the insect each year. 
The plum curculio has the reputation of being the 
most destructive and the hardest to combat of any of 
our orchard insect pests. In recent years, peaches, 
cherries, apricots and prunes suffer equally as much 
as plums, and some years it looks as though the apple 
would be added to the list. Dozens of different 
methods have been suggested for fighting this pest, 
but by the sifting-out process of experimentation, 
they have practically been reduced to two. 
Some growers claim that they save their plums by 
spraying frequently, once a week, with the arsenites. 
There is no doubt that the curculios do feed on the 
foliage early in the spring, and would thus be pois¬ 
oned by the sprayed foliage. Others who spray for 
the insect, theorize that they lodge some of the poison 
in the crescent cut, and when the grub hatches, it 
gets some of it in eating its way into the fruit. I 
doubt whether those who hold this theory have ever 
carefully investigated the operations of the little 
grub when getting its first few meals. I find that the 
newly-hatched grub immediately burrows perpen¬ 
dicularly from the position of the egg into the flesh 
of the fruit, and in doing this, its tunnel does not 
intersect the crescent cut at all. It is true that, 
when first made , the crescent cut usually extends 
under or undermines the egg cavity, and if it entered 
the fruit at that time, the grub’s tunnel might go 
into the crescent cut. But before the egg hatches, 
the fruit grows considerably, and it will be found 
that, almost invariably, the crescent cut has filled up 
somewhat (note this in Fig. 156), and a pin stuck 
through the egg perpendicularly into the fruit would 
not often intersect the crescent. I very much doubt 
whether any plum curculio grubs ever got a dose of 
poison at their first meal by the lodgment of a 
particle of Paris-green in the crescent cut. We shall 
test this theory by careful experiments here at the 
inseetary this spring; crescents will be painted full 
of poison, and results will be noted with interest. 
For me, there is not yet sufficient evidence to show 
THE CRESCENT ON THE PLUM. Flo. 156. 
A plum showing the work of the curculio. One of the “crescents” 
is enlarged, and the skin of the fruit cut away to 
snow the egg in the cavity of the “ flap.” 
that the method of spraying with Paris-green for this 
insect can be made uniformly successful. I know of 
many instances where it has failed, and many of our 
largest plum growers in western New York now use 
the jarring method. One large grower used the jar¬ 
ring method for a time, but was led to try spraying 
and, for a few years, when his trees bore heavy crops, 
he thought that he controlled the curculio with the 
spray. But a year or two ago, his trees set a rather 
light crop, so that it was necessary to save most of 
the fruits to insure a paying crop. He started in as 
usual to prevent the work of the curculio with Paris- 
green. He was soon convinced, however, that the 
spray was not diminishing the crescent marks any, 
and was obliged to resort to the jarring machines to 
save his crop. 
The jarring process is familiar to all, but many do 
not use it, thinking it too expensive. It is a success 
beyond a doubt, and our most successful plum and 
peach growers use the curculio catchers—a sort of in¬ 
verted umbrella on a wheel-barrow-like frame—every 
year. The Hale Georgia Orchard Company last year 
spent $5,000 in catching the curculio in this manner 
on their extensive Georgia peach orchard, and they 
are satisfied that it paid to do it. It is necessary to 
begin jarring the trees soon after the blossoms fall, 
and continue the operation every day until but few 
curculios are caught each day. Some years, it is 
necessary to run the catchers for a month or more. 
Early morning seems to be the best time to jar the 
trees; it must be a jar, not a mere shake. With a 
moderate setting of plums, I believe that the spray¬ 
ing method cannot be depended upon to save the 
crop. Our New York growers find that it costs from 
15 to 25 cents to jar a good-sized plum tree every day 
throughout the “ bugging ” season. m. v. s. 
WHAT THEY SAY. 
“Some Pumpkins.” —In our patch of pumpkins and 
squashes last year, we planted some seed of Maule’s 
Hundredweight, cr as other seedsmen call it, Mam¬ 
moth Potiron. We prepared the soil in the ordinary 
way, and planted the different varieties till we bad 
about an acre in all. They were cultivated with a 
single horse hoe, having a vine lifter attached the 
last time or two that they were tended. Fordhook, 
Hubbard, Red Sugar pumpkin and Dipper Gourds 
grew apace, but one particular “ Mammoth ” shone 
out among the vines and got to be an immense affair. 
Master Two-years-old called it his pumpkin from the 
first time he saw it as he rode in the market wagon 
while we were preparing the next day’s load. Every 
day he would beg us to “pick it” as we did the 
melons near by. Yv^e let it lie till the first light frosts 
had touched the vines, and it had become truly a 
Hundredweight. The youDg market gardener could 
not part from his treasure till he had its picture 
taken as shown at Fig. 157. Then the pumpkin went 
to the large show window of an enterprising hard¬ 
ware merchant, who had a collection of fine farm and 
garden products. Papa’s business card was tacked to 
the pumpkin, that “ he who ran might read”. Seeds 
from this sold for five cents a dozen last spring. 
HENRY FIELD. 
White Plymouth Rocks. 
At one time, I came very close to thinking that 
there was just one variety of poultry that was worth 
raising, and that variety wore brown feathers, sported 
a beautiful rose comb and danced her life away in 
the active guise of a Rose Comb Brown Leghorn. I 
have not ceased to love my Brovtnies, but I am con¬ 
vinced that “there are others.” I began experiment¬ 
ing with White P. Rocks because the Leghorns were 
so late about sitting, if they would deign to sit at all. 
The P. Rocks proved to be good mothers, and the 
second year, I bought a sitting of eggs from which I 
raised one cockerel which was so white that I began 
to dream of success in the show room. 1 now have 
as many P. Rocks as Leghorns, and their egg record 
is so nearly alike that I am half inclined to think the 
P. Rocks the better birds. The Brownies will assert 
themselves now, however, for the P. Rocks are begin¬ 
ning to sit. 
It is difficult to find a fowl which comes nearer 
absolute perfection than a White P. Rock, bred as 
nearly as possible to standard requirements. A big, 
shapely hen, not in the least incumbered by her size, 
but carrying her weight daintily and easily. Pure 
white plumage, yellow beak, skin and legs, the 
brightest of red combs, wattles and ear lobes, quiet 
in disposition, good sitters, good mothers. If they 
have a fault, I have yet to learn it. They will travel 
as far as a Leghorn in search of food, and they will 
scratch up the garden, too, if you do not feed them. 
But what is a hen good for if she will not “ scratch 
for a living”? When killing time comes, you will 
find a plump, fine bird with no dark pinfeathers to 
vex your soul, with not too great weight to insure 
delicate meat, yet weight enough to reward you for 
your labor. . s. a. little. 
Seneca County, N. Y. 
Rape for Sheep. 
1 am surprised at the answer of L. A. C. to H. F. of 
North Steuben, N. Y., on page 218, in which by in¬ 
ference, at least, he intimates that rape is tender 
north of central New York. I have seen it growing 
in the greatest luxuriance away up north in Canada, 
more than 100 miles north of here. I am also sur¬ 
prised that he says that it resembles the mustard. Of 
course it belongs to the mustard family ; so do the 
cabbage, turnip, horse radish, Shepherd’s purse and 
many other plants. But rape, when growing in the 
field, looks exactly like a field of ruta-bagas that had 
run to leaves and tops without forming bulbs. It is 
one of the finest foods for sheep, hogs or feeding 
steers ; and in Canada it is fed largely to milch cows, 
the same as cabbage or turnips, just after milking, 
and it doesn’t impart any bad flavor to the milk. 
Dwarf Essex is the best variety, but it may be sown 
in many ways. The seed should not cost over seven 
or eight cents per pound, and if II. F. will sow three 
pounds of seed on his oat or barley fields imme¬ 
diately following the harrow or drill when sowing 
those grains, he will find it all there when he harvests 
the grain, and in two or three weeks it will come on 
and give him an immense amount of the finest sheep 
feed he ever had. He may also sow two pounds per 
acre in his corn fields just preceding the last culti¬ 
vation, and after the corn comes off, he will get feed 
enough to pay for the trouble 100 times over. Rape 
may be sown at any time from May 1 till August 15, 
and will make a good growth and paying crop; but 
for the main crop, it is best to sow it from the middle 
of June to the middle of July. To fit the ground, 
plow early, and at least once in 10 days go over it 
with a harrow until time to sow. The object of this 
