1901 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKERJ 
83 
WHERE SUBSOlUHG /S BENEFICIAL 
/fs Use in Stony Fields. 
In the main I agree with the writers who gave 
their view's on subsoiling on page 5 of The R. N.-Y., 
but there are lands that would be materially benefited 
by the use of a subsoil plow properly handled. I have 
owned such a plow, and found it practicable to use it 
upon nearly the whole of my land under cultivation. 
There is a great deal of land in New England that 
has been plowed over and over again to a certain 
depth, the depth being determined by the ability of 
the plow used to get down into the soil. On lands free 
from small stones, whether sandy or clayey, a good 
plow may be made to go down according to the power 
of the team attached, but if the subsoil is as hard as 
a common road, made so in part by the treading of 
the team for a hundred years, and this subsoil is 
also made much like a pavement by small stones that 
always throw the plow out of place every time it 
passes, no satisfactory seed bed can be made till this 
condition of things is changed. I have found nothing 
equal to a good subsoil plow for putting the land in 
.shape for subsequent easy cultivation. The plow 1 
used would run a foot deep without turning up any 
furrow or bringing any of the subsoil to the surface. 
It simply loosened the soil to the depth it was allowed 
to run, moving every small cobblestone so that any 
ordinary plow following it either immediately or ever 
afterward would hold its place, going 
under rather than being lifted out by 
the little paving stones. 
When these subsoilers were first in- 
tioduced it was expected that farmers 
would have a second team to follow the 
sod plow and stir up the subsoil at that 
time, or, using the same team, unhitch 
and change plows at each “round,” but 
I found it a much better way for me to 
do the subsoiling in old ground that had 
been worked a year or more. I have 
subsoiled acre after acre in this way 
with a team of three horses abreast, with 
the reins over my shoulders, at about 
the same cost that would have been re¬ 
quired for ordinary green-sward plow¬ 
ing. Were I preparing a field for nur¬ 
sery trees or an extra good garden 1 
might cross-plow in the same way, thus 
tearing the soil more thoroughly, and 
loosening up the small stones even more 
completely. 1 usually followed the sub¬ 
soil plow with a two-horse cultivator 
with strong teeth, and which would 
work the top soil as deep as necessary, 
hauling to the surface most of the small 
stones that the plow had loosened. All 
land that I have thus treated has been 
made much easier to plow in after years 
to the depth desired. I am not an ad¬ 
vocate of very deep plowing for all land, 
but I want all cultivated land so that it 
can be plowed to an even depth with an 
ordinary plow, and I want the soil so 
free from cobblestones that the best 
tools for cultivation can be used without 
danger of breaking them. A subsoil 
plow should have a wheel in front under 
the beam to gauge the depth, and to aid 
the plowman in lifting out at the ends of the furrows. 
I used my plow a great deal in loosening up the soil 
when digging drains, thus saving manual labor with 
pick and bar. I expect very little sandy land would 
be improved by subsoiling, and I have no faith to be¬ 
lieve that undrained clay would be permanently bet¬ 
tered by running a subsoil plow through it. But the 
soil of my farm was made easier to cultivate for all 
time, and without any injury to its quality or pro¬ 
ductiveness. A. W. CHEEVER. 
THE ESOPUS SP/TZENBURG APPLE. 
Thanksgiving Day is now weeks back in the old 
century, and further allusion to it will hardly be ex¬ 
pected. But I trust it is not yet too late for a few 
comments upon the situation of the Hope Farm man 
alone in the old house on that night which he so aptly 
called “a trap for memories.” It was a pleasant pic¬ 
ture he drew for R. N.-Y. readers, as he looked out 
upon that damp moonlit valley, with the snapping 
wood fire blazing at his feet and “Grandmother’s big 
nutcake within easy reach” there beneath those old 
wooden beams, in the shadow of four generations 
gone before. Strange noises he hears, and strange 
things come into his mind. Yes, who will doubt it? 
Spirit visitors wish him well, he says, but lament 
their inability to impart the real mystery and end of 
human life. So he thinks it all over for himself, and 
concludes that "human days are all too short for us 
to be properly thankful for the privilege of living and 
attempting to do our duty.” I like his conclusion, and 
enjoy the whole picture. But lest I become too serious 
over the matter let me refer more particularly to what 
may have been my primary object in marking this 
article for immediate reference. He said he had 
“plenty of Baldwin apples near by.” How sorry I was 
that he had nothing better in the way of an apple 
than the Baldwin! It was the only blemish in the 
the whole picture. How' much I wanted to reach right 
down into my barrel (and the fruit is getting low 
down now) of Esopus Spitzenburgs, and hand over to 
him half a dozen of those glorious apples that grew 
right up here at the base of the Catskill Mountains. 
Yes, it was the very thing he lacked. I know that he 
knows just what a good apple means, because I’ve 
heard him talk about it in print. And this is the rea¬ 
son T want to extend to him my sincere sympathy 
even at this late date. Some people would be easily 
satisfied with the Baldwin apple, as they are with the 
Concord grape, the Duchess pear or the Egg plum, as 
the markets conclusively show; but not everybody. 
Is it right to be satisfied with inferior things when 
with the proper effort we can have the better? Con¬ 
tentment is indeed a most valuable attribute, and its 
lesson might well be studied more by the average 
mortal in this imperfect life, but to be content sitting 
down with folded hands is one thing, and being con¬ 
tent standing up reaching out for something better is 
quite another. 
If I remember rightly this Hope Farm man is a 
member of the Apple League. He likes apples, asks 
for them at hotels and restaurants, and eats them be¬ 
tween meals, perhaps, as I do. Why I wouldn’t give 
one of my Esopus Spitzeuburg apples for half a dozen 
of the best oranges or any other fruit that can be 
named. And let me say here, I don’t like this attempt 
to abbreviate the good old-fashioned name of this 
grand apple, calling it "Esopus,” and either leaving 
off its characteristic title altogether, or italicising it 
as a mark of insignificance, as the American Borno¬ 
logical Society list now has it. My good friend Van 
Deman, of The R. N.-Y., is doing this, and I wish he 
wouldn’t. For the past year or more I have been try¬ 
ing to trace the precise origin of this princely apple. 
Mr. Brackett, the Government Pomologist, wrote me, 
telling how silent the record was on the subject and 
how anxiously he would await the information I was 
after. Well, I kept up the investigation until one day 
I received some rather careful data from a private 
source to the effect that the apple was of foreign 
origin. Of coiirse it could not be proven, but the 
thing looked so dangerously authentic on its face that 
I abandoned further search then and there. But, of 
course, I don’t propose to give up its domestic na¬ 
tivity, and I’ll stick to Downing as my authority. It 
must have come to light here on the Hudson in this 
Esopus region. They can’t produce such an apple 
outside of America. The trouble is if we don’t plant 
it more than we have of late they’ll begin to claim 
that we can’t produce it any more here either, and 
that isn’t true. h. hendricks. 
Wb want more inlormatlon about silage cut with a 
shredder or ‘ Blizzard.” Does it pack closer In the silo? 
Does it heat less th.an when merely chopped? 
GRABS SEED AND NURSE CROPS. 
Experience in Spring Sowing with Oafs. 
After reading what my friend George M. Clark has 
for years been saying about sowing grass seeds and 
corn, after reading what my other friend, A. W. 
Cheever, has to say on page 847 of last year’s R. N. ■ 
Y., I am afraid I shall go right on sowing grass seed 
in the Spring with oats. I know my brother farmers 
will point the finger of scorn at me for acknowledg¬ 
ing this, but perhaps if I tell them how I do it I shall 
not be ruled out for ttnprofessional conduct. Until 
well into the Winter my stable manure goes on to 
my meadows as top-dressing, and when I am disposed 
to plow a piece It is not exactly barren. When I 
plant corn and potatoes I use only commercial fer¬ 
tilizers, spreading broadcast for corn and dropping 
on the top of the hill or drill after the potatoes are 
covered. I am aware that this last seems like a queer 
wrinkle, but it won’t hurt anyone to try two or three 
rows across a field, and watch them if blight strikes 
the field, and again at digging time. I intended to 
sow Crimson clover as a catch crop in my corn the 
past Summer, but I heard that it harbored the Pea 
louse, and as we had never had either I put it off. 
During the real Winter our manure is carted and 
piled, or rather dumped, 15 to 20 loads in a place, ad 
jacent to the fields where we have had corn and po¬ 
tatoes, and when the ground is ready for sowing oats 
the manure is spread, about 10 loads per 
acre, and harrowed In with the oats. 
The grass seed is then put on, and a 
brush finished the work. Primitive, isn't 
it? But I think I can show more young 
clover to the acre than any of my neigh¬ 
bors, except one who followed my plan. 
We had an extremely dry Summer, and 
many have already plowed new seeded 
pieces, and sown rye, or will plow in 
the Spring. Curiously enough the best 
seeding of clover I have is on the driest 
part of the field. Had the oats not been 
the best I ever saw all over the field I 
should have thought the oats smothered 
the clover less, but under the circum¬ 
stances I can only guess that on the dry 
knolls there was never much moisture, 
and the little plants sent their roots 
down so deep that when the oats were 
harvested the burning sun had less effect. 
A part of the oats lodged and was cut 
early for hay, and as a little rain fell 
soon after a rank growth started up, and 
I wondered whether another year I 
would not cut all my oats early for hay. 
I shall watch that spot next Spring, but 
it grew a lot of corn grass that went to 
seed, and I am not sure that the stuff 
did not smother more clover than the 
oats. Besides that, I peeked over the 
fence at a field where a neighbor of 
mine cut the oats when green with a 
mowing machine. It looked so much 
nicer than my oat stubble that I was a 
little sorry for myself. He has since 
plowed that field and sown rye. He says 
that the machine cut so close that there 
was nothing to protect the young clover 
and grass, and the sun killed it all. We 
cut our oats when about half of the seed is ripe, or 
out of the milk, and being a lazy lot they are not 
thrashed. The bundles are cut twice so as to make 
three lengths of the straw, and fed to the horses. 
We don’t get five tons of hay per acre as my friend 
Clark does, but dry as the past season was, we had 
some lodge, and in wet seasons we are sometimes 
troubled quite a little that way. My farm is a light 
loam, with a gravel subsoil, giving thorough drain¬ 
age. My father, when I was a boy, plowed in his 
stable manure with hoed crops, and always com¬ 
plained of having no rowen. When I suggested top¬ 
dressing he said it would be of no use, the land “was 
not natural grass land.” It has been growing more 
and more into natural grass land for years now, and 
v;hile Mr. Clark may be able to put on half a ton and 
take off five tons for a life time from an acre of 
ground, I am afraid it will turn out like irrigation. 
I have built up almost all sorts of land, but deliver 
me from a piece that has been irrigated and grown, 
at first, big crops of grass, and then gradually run 
down until it is not worth mowing. Left to itself soil 
will not pump itself quite to death, but irrigation will 
assist it wonderfully. Mr. Clark’s five tons must come 
from somewhere, and while I know him too well to 
doubt his faith in his plan, I lack faith in any plan 
that carries off by the cartload and puts back by the 
bagful. Man may cheat his fellow-man, possibly, and 
get rich at it, but sooner or later land will resent any 
attempt to cheat It, and the last state of the man who 
tries to do it is usually worse than the first. 
Connecticut. h- s. hinman. 
DOUBLE-FLOWERED NASTURTIUM. Pig. 34. See Rurai.isms, Page 88. 
