MAY 17 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
324 
NEW THINGS ABOUT ENSILAGE LEARNED THE 
PAST SEASON. 
What do you know about ensilage in any of Us details 
that you did not know one year ago ? 
FROM PROF. n. H. WING. 
Feeding, Filling. — I wrote to the Rural early in 
the winter that we intended to make a practical trial of 
feeding silage to horses (R. N.-Y. January 25, 1890, page 
54), and that if death resulted or cerebro-spinal meningitis 
ensued we would report. An old and somewhat worn-out 
sorrel mare, somewhat thin in flesh, was procured specially 
for the purpose. At first she would not eat the silage, 
but was soon taught to do so, since which time she has had 
no other coarse fodder. For about three months just 
passed she has eaten a daily ration of 25 pounds of corn 
silage (made from a crop of 15 tons of corn, containing 80 
bushels of shelled grain per acre) and 12 quarts of a mix¬ 
ture of three bushels of wheat bran and one peck of new- 
process linseed meal. During this time she has been on 
the milk route twice each day in all weathers and on all 
kinds of roads, mostly very bad, and is to-day in better 
health, spirits and condition than when we first took her 
in hand. Last fall we had more corn than would go into 
the silo. This was cut and shocked and as the silo settled 
this shock corn was husked, and the stalks were cut and 
put in the silo from day to day till no more could be put 
in. These husked and partially dried stalks were found to 
be almost completely spoiled when the silo was opened. A 
determination of the water at the time they were put in 
showed that they contained 62.57 per cent, of it. From this 
I am inclined to conclude that corn containing much less 
than 70 per cent, of water is preserved in a silo with much 
difficulty. We have always had more or less difficulty 
with the carrier to our silage cutter on account of stopping 
and slipping. Last year we remedied this by placing the 
cutter on the top of the silo and arranging the carrier to 
elevate the corn before it is cut. The stalks are thrown 
from the wagon directly upon the carrier, which delivers 
them directly upon the table of the cutter, where a very 
little direction with the hand enables the rollers in front 
of the knives to seize them. The results of a test of about 
140 varieties of corn recommended for ensilage are contained 
in our bulletin, No. 16, which will be distributed in a few 
days. 
Ithaca, N. Y. 
FROM SEYMOUR BROOKS. 
My experience teaches me that flint corn planted three 
feet each way, with from four to six stalks in the hill, 
thoroughly tilled for ears, is the best crop for filling a silo. 
One should begin to fill as soon as the dom has begun to 
glaze, commencing after the dew is off in the morning. I 
use tight-bottom platforms in trucks, eight by 16 feet, cut¬ 
ting from the truck platforms into the silo. I use a 30-foot 
carrier. I see no chance for improvement on this way of 
handling silage. I use a two-horse tread-power which 
is very satisfactory and economical. I have been feeding 
during the past winter 250 store sheep, 25 cattle and 18 
horses, colts and brood mares. I do not give a full ration 
of silage to any kind of stock. It is fed in connection with 
hay and straw, although my stock will not eat much of the 
latter when liberally fed silage. I feed it to sheep and 
horses once a day and to cattle twice. It has too loosening 
an effect on the bowels of sheep and horses if fed to excess, 
and it always affects the kidneys of horses more or less, and 
should always be fed with care and judgment. It did not 
agree with two of my colts and I had to discontinue its use 
for them, because it scoured them so much. I have ensiloed 
nothing but corn. I think clover hay cured in the silo 
would be better for horses than corn, although with me 
corn is very satisfactory. I shall make some experiments 
with clover this season. I am well satisfied with the silage 
and would not know how to get along without it. My 
stock look sleek and fat, and are in much better condition 
than when they went into winter-quarters. I think that 
any man who cuts well-grown corn not so thickly 
planted as to prevent a good crop of ears, into a good silo, 
will never be sorry for having done so ; though, of course, 
one should always remember that he can take out nothing 
better than he has put in, and that silage is not a perfect ra¬ 
tion fed alone. A bushel and a-half basket divided between 
two, with eight pounds of bran or shorts, is a good feed 
for milch cows. Sheep, horses and young cattle do not 
need the mill feed. 
East Troy, Wis. 
* 
A SUMMER OUTING IN THE NORTH CAROLINA 
MOUNTAINS. 
XIII. 
MARY WAGER-FISHER. 
Riding down the mountains; coves; a little mail 
carrier; lunching in Georgia; Walhalla; At Terhune's; 
a curious German town; new vegetation; a cotton- 
gin. 
On the last daj; of September we had our “ traps ” 
packed for home, but as the day opened with rain, we post¬ 
poned our departure until the following morning, when 
the sun shone and everything bade fair for our ride down 
the mountain. Already there had been several frosts, the 
first having appeared earlier by four days than “ever be¬ 
fore.” The foliage on the trees had for a fortnight been 
gradually taking on autumnal hues, and was now very 
rich and gorgeous in color. Our homeward route was 
from Highlands to Walhalla, S. C., thence by rail to 
Seneca, and from Seneca north, via Charlotte, Salisbury 
and Washington. As numbers of people were leaving 
Highlands at this time, conveyances were in unusual de¬ 
mand and well filled. The “ hack ” in which we had seats, 
carried eight passengers, including the driver, and was 
drawn by a pair of mules. The baggage followed in a 
wagon. Fivej of the passengers lived in South Carolina, 
and were also returning home. The driver said that we 
were to go by the Horse Cove route—the distance was 
greater by two miles than by the 28-mile route; but the road 
was much better. We had previously been down in this 
cove on horseback. It consists of about 600 acres of level 
land well watered, and as there appears to be but one inlet 
and one outlet, via the road that passes through it, its 
conversion intom lake would be no difficult task, and a 
lake in this region would be a novelty. A noticeable fea¬ 
ture of these mountains is that their south sides are usu¬ 
ally barren and rocky, which may be explained by the cir¬ 
cumstance that in the sudden freezing and thawing of the 
surface, the soil has gradually become detached and 
slidden down, leaving the rocks bare, and of course carry¬ 
ing off whatever vegetation was rooted in them. As 
Horse Cove lies on the south side of the mountain, the 
view looking up from it is very wild and precipitous, as it 
Is also from Whitesides Cove. One of our fellow passen¬ 
gers said that in one of her long tramps she had met a 
fragile boy of 10 or 12 years, who carried on foot the mail 
between these two coves, a distance of 10 miles, making 
the 20-mile trudge daily, and often without a mouthful of 
food during the route. For this service he received $2.50 a 
month. A relative of the family had the contract, from 
the government, and sub-let it to this lad’s father—truly 
a hard case for the poor child. In these warm coves excel¬ 
lent fruits are produced when they are not nipped by late 
frosts. This season there were even no chestnuts, because 
of a late freeze. 
Our road was for most of the way through the forest, and 
although we were rapidly descending, we still had at in¬ 
tervals some long and steep up-grades, and in climbing 
these, as well as in crossing what we thought unsafe 
bridges, we often walked. We rode for several miles 
through a corner of the State of Georgia, and ate our lunch¬ 
eon in this State, afterward crossing the Chatooga River, 
which, if my geography is right, forms the boundary line 
for a short distance between Georgia and South Carolina. 
Cabins of mountaineers were at long intervals. We passed 
but one school-house during the long ride—built of logs and 
without windows. There was plenty of room for light to 
enter through chinks. There was a good spring where we 
alighted to lunch, and the laddie obtained a specimen of 
the wood of holly from a tree 20 feet high. A variety of 
oak, called “Black Jack,” grew in abundance, its foliage 
being thick and peculiarly glossy. The sour-wood trees 
with their slender leaves turned bright red, and their plume¬ 
like seed-pods were very pretty, and all the sunny spaces 
were gay with golden rod and white, yellow and purple 
asters. Now and then we passed a cabin built of boards, 
with windows without sash, but provided with wooden 
shutters. Night came on before we reached Walhalla; but 
it was moonlight, and seeing white spots gleaming in a 
field, we asked concerning it, and were told that it was a 
field of cotton. Upon reaching the town, we sent our 
trunk to the railway station—this is the present end of a 
branch railroad—and were ourselves driven to “Terhune’s,” 
a boarding-house kept by a family from New Jersey, the 
husband and father having been obliged for health’s sake 
to leave home for a warmer clime, and after a year’s resi- 
dencein Walhalla he had quite recovered from a pulmonary 
ailment that had threatened to be fatal. It was a relief to 
our minds to feel sure of having a clean bed and clean, 
good food, and although our arrival was unexpected we 
were served with an excellent supper of fried chicken, 
sweet potatoes, baked apples and other good things. I 
believe that comparatively few people in the North know 
the full excellence of fried chicken. At all events, I never 
have found it in the South anything but delicious: I have 
often had it served to me in the North when I could not 
eat it. When the fowl is full-grown, it is apt to be under¬ 
done and to have a “ too chickeny ” taste. 
The next morning revealed a cloudless sky and a strik¬ 
ingly beautiful locality. From the galleries (piazzas) of 
the house, most fascinating distant mountain views 
greeted us, and Satulah and Whitesides Mountains were 
easily discerned in the great brood that lay high up on the 
northwestern horizon. Before breakfast I arranged to 
send my trunk by the single daily train to Seneca, but to 
go thither myself by carriage, as I wanted more time to see 
Walhalla. So after breakfast with the laddie, we sallied 
forth to see this curious town, named from the resting 
place of kings, by its German founders, 40 years ago. There 
are a great many Germans in the towns of South Carolina, 
and it was a colony from Charleston that settled Wal¬ 
halla; but the sons of these settlers have, in large part, 
gone back to Charleston. Walhalla has an elevation 
of about 1,200 feet, is free from malaria, and has what I 
should think must be a fine, dry climate. It is said to be 
as good for throat and lung troubles as are Aiken and 
Thomasville. The town consists chiefly of one street, 
about three miles long. This is wide, and at intervals in 
the middle are wells for public use furnished with wind¬ 
lass and bucket. The middle of the street is also planted 
with a row of trees, and, all in all, it is a very comfortable 
and pleasant-looking town. 
We went into a building where cotton was being ginned, 
and it was to us a pretty and novel sight to see cotton un¬ 
loaded from wagons, and cotton pouring like white foam 
out of the mouth of the gin. The seeds fell at the rear of 
the gin in a pile on the floor, and the gin looked not un¬ 
like a small wheat-thrashing machine. We came across 
some very decorative shrubs growing wild at the side of 
the street, bearing at the axils of the leaves, the entire 
length of the stalk, a bunch of magenta red berries. A 
small colored girl said they were “ French Mulberries ”— 
an adult white woman called them “ Coral Berries,” and 
still another, “Jerusalem Cherries.” We were attracted 
by a tree entirely new to us, that grew inside a little door- 
yard, and I went in to find out the name of it, and ask 
leave to have some of the pods which had fruited upon it— 
the pod being like that of the pea, and containing a very 
few small seeds. The leaf was fern-like and finely cut. It 
seemed possible that it might be a variety of acacia. A 
young German woman whom I found in the house nearest 
to it, said that the tree was called Pomosa, that it bore 
pink flowers in May and June, and that it was the only 
tree of the kind that she knew of. 
Womans Work. 
CHAT BY THE WAY. 
HEN an old black silk gown is past all further ser¬ 
vice, even in the form of a knock about skirt to be 
worn with a jersey, it can often be put to further use in 
the form of a black summer petticoat. During dusty 
weather such a skirt is very desirable to women who have 
to do a good deal of traveling or walking about. Starched 
white skirts are a snare and a delusion when one is tramp¬ 
ing about dusty streets all day, and they are equally out of 
place on an excursion either by land or water. For all 
these uses a light-weight black petticoat is a positive boon, 
let it be either silk, old or new, or sateen. In silk it is 
quite as dressy as the starched white muslin, and is very 
pretty in good black sateen. 
In making over the old silk skirt for this purpose, it 
should first be ripped, sponged and ironed. It should be 
lined with a very thin, light-colored lining, partly because 
the old stuff might be liable to tear, and partly to avoid 
any risk of the black rubbing off on the underwear. A 
well-fitting yoke should be put on the top, around the 
front and side gores, having what is called a French 
back—that is, without a placket, the fullness being gath¬ 
ered up by two draw-strings, just as one draws up a bag. 
This is much neater than a placket, both for muslin and 
stuff petticoats. The skirt may be trimmed at the bottom 
by a full frill three or four inches wide, with a little head¬ 
ing, or a very full little double box-pleating. These black 
silk skirts are often seen trimmed with black lace, but, of 
course, this would be out of place on a made-over thing, 
nor would it be so serviceable as the silk frill. Many like 
to have a second draw-string in the back breadth about 18 
inches below the top, so as to confine the fullness a little 
in the back. There should be two strings in a casing, 
meeting in the middle. In many of the- handsome skirts 
these strings are made of ribbon, and tied on the outside 
of the skirt, where they have a very pretty effect. A black 
silk skirt in an English trousseau was embroidered on the 
flounce with Nile green, and had these draw-strings of 
broad Nile green ribbon, tied on the outside, of course. 
Black summer skirts of plain sateen are unlined, and 
trimmed with a flounce of black cambric, embroidered 
in white. They could readily be made at home, but the price, 
ready-made, is so reasonable in New York that it is doubt¬ 
ful whether one could save anything by making them, 
without buying poorer materials. They are said to wash 
perfectly. 
* * 
For ordinary morning or every-day wear the best colored 
summer skirts are of striped outing cloth, a familiar cot¬ 
ton material with a woolen finish. It washes well, and 
comes in all the pretty patterns of tennis flannel. It 
should be made with the yoke front and French back, the 
bottom having a deep hem, with a row of feather stitching 
at the top. In gray-and-white or blue-and-white stripes 
this material is very clean-looking and durable. It makes 
very good children’s skirts; indeed, it is often seen used 
for little ones’ suits and coats. 
* 
♦ * 
AS the warm weather comes on the need of frequent 
bathing becomes more and more apparent. It is easy 
enough to attend to proper cleanliness in a house where 
there is a proper bathroom; but in a country house 
without this convenience, where all the water has to be 
carried up and down stairs, and where the bed-rooms are 
often small, the matter becomes more complicated. A big 
bath-tub is often an impossibility, but a frequent sponge- 
bath, with no other appliances than a big basinful of water 
and a sponge or wash-cloth, will at least cleanse the body, 
though without the luxury of a splash in a regular tub. I 
believe in a quick sponging all over every night before 
retiring, especially after a heavy day’s work. There are 
those, however, with whom a bath at night always causes 
wakefulness ; it is not so likely to be caused by sponging 
as by a regular plunge; but when it is, the bath must be 
postponed until after one has risen, or some time during the 
day. Certainly, a bath on first rising is in many respects 
the best, but many cannot take it then for lack of time. 
Where there are chores to be done at day-break, or an early 
breakfast to be prepared, the morning toilet is necessarily 
a hurried one. Still, the sponging of the entire body once 
a day should be regarded as a necessity during the summer 
at least. It must be remembered, however, that an abso¬ 
lutely cold bath is to many people not only undesirable, 
but dangerous; though one may sponge with cold water 
with impunity, when a plunge into it would be unsafe. It 
is a safe rule, however, that if after a cold bath you feel 
chilled, Instead of all in a glow, you will do better to warm 
it in future. emily louise taplin. 
|Ui.$rcUuncou.o ^Uvcrti.oiufl. 
In writing to advertisers, please mention the R. N.-Y. 
When Baby wan sick, we gave her Castoria, 
When she was a Child, she cried for Castoria. 
When she became Miss, she clung to Castoria, 
When she had Children, she gave them Custorla 
