i89o 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 431 
the voters then elect a forestry commission, with full 
powers to operate the land as a timber-producing plant. 
Such a forestry commission would then proceed in this 
way : They should, first, clear away all the wooden fences, 
except along the roads, and, secondly, remove all the 
buildings. This would be clearing up the stage. The 
next step would be to call for bids for young forest trees 
by the hundred thousand, the trees to be quite small and 
delivered on the farms by the dealer. They would be 
ready for planting in March and April and in October and 
November, and as fast as received they would be “ heeled 
in” in convenient masses ready for planting. All the 
fields of the farm being thrown together by the removal of 
the fences, the work of planting would be comparatively 
simple. By running a heavy plow through the land, fur¬ 
rows could be made four feet apart. The planting would 
consist in setting the young trees in these furrows and 
covering the roots by hand (with hoes) or by turning 
another furrow over them with the plow. It may be re¬ 
marked in passing, that it would not pay to remove the 
stone walls, and they could be suffered to remain, as the 
cost of removing them would be more than the land would 
be worth. Rough, stony fields, in like manner, could be 
left rough. The trees being set very thickly would soon 
smother the blueberry bushes and other wild shrubs. 
Unless very thick it would nob pay to clear up these 
bushes. The plow could break a path through them for 
the planting, and this would be sufficient. 
In such a planting on a large scale the aim would be to 
get in small trees, to plant at the lowest possible cost and to 
cover the ground completely. The trees should stand about 
two feet apart in rows four feet apart, and this would call 
for 5,445 to the acre. In plowed lands it might be well to 
follow the planting with one or two ploivings between the 
rows to keep down the weeds, but in pastures and unim¬ 
proved fields it might be as well to let the trees take care 
o f themselves. 
During the first 
growing season 
the chief duty of 
the forestry com¬ 
mission would be 
to keep out cattle 
and trespassers. 
No persons 
should be allowed 
to pick berries on 
the plantation 
(there would not 
b e any to pick 
after the second 
year) and no per¬ 
son should be al¬ 
lowed to use the 
grounds for pic¬ 
nics or for camps. 
The building of 
fires on or near 
the lands should 
be absolutely for- 
b idden at all 
times, persons 
found lighting 
fires being severe¬ 
ly punished by 
fine and imprison¬ 
ment. Such plan¬ 
tations being pub¬ 
lic property, it 
would be the in¬ 
terest of the 
town’s people to 
see that they were 
not wantonly in¬ 
jured. However, 
it is not best to 
rely on public good-will, and the commissioners would prob¬ 
ably have to appoint a ranger or forest-keeper to go on the 
property and keep out cattle, excursionists and tramps. 
Such a forest-keeper should be a person trained in some good 
forestry school and should be paid a good salary, and give 
his whole time to the care of the plantation. It would be 
his duty to see the entire property once or twice a week, 
or if required, every day; to keep complete lists and 
records of all the trees planted, their kinds and quantities 
and the character of the soils in which they grow. It 
would also be his duty to note all failures and losses in 
order to provide for replanting from nursery stock set 
apart for the purpose. Each fall and spring he would see 
that all gaps in the rows be filled up with fresh trees, and 
during the winter draw up plans for new plantings. 
It would also be his duty to keep the books and make the 
sales o l trees. The commissioners would serve for nothing, 
and the keeper would be the only salaried person con¬ 
nected with the work. For a few weeks in spring and fall 
extra labor might be required to assist in repairing breaks 
in the plantations and in keeping exterior fences in order 
and in preparing new plantations. 
It may be objected that such a venture would be too ex¬ 
pensive and it would never pay to hire such a forest- 
keeper. Other countries do this and even maintain schools 
of forestry where young men can be trained to the duties 
of keepers. What France can do we can do. If it pays in 
Europe, it will pay here. The first two and perhaps three 
years it would be all “outgo.” There would be no re¬ 
turns for the investment and it might appear even in four 
years as a particularly unprofitable venture for any town 
to undertake. It will be noticed that the trees are set 
very close. By the third and certainly by the fourth year 
it would be necessary to thin out the trees—and this means 
a crop. The first thinning would be to take out every 
other tree on the entire plantation and these thinnings 
would be a crop. The [trees being very close together 
would be “drawn” or grown up tall and slender—in fact 
would be bean, hop and hoop poles. The next year, 
or the next year but one, another thinning would be 
required. 
By taking out every other tree a large crop of fence posts 
will be gathered. Very soon xt would be necessary to cut 
out every other row of trees and thus the trees finally left 
to grow would be farther and farther apart. Each thin¬ 
ning would give larger and larger trees worth more and 
more money. Estimating the original planting at 5,445 
trees per acre, the first crop would be, roughly speaking, 
2,72§ poles. The second thinning would give 1,361 posts 
and stout poles. The next 680 young trees or telegraph 
poles. 
It would not happen that all these would be good, 
serviceable sticks, but this would show, in a way, how the 
crops would come into market. Some of the sticks would 
be imperfect and only fit for fire-wood, but even fire-wood 
pays something. The next crop would be railroad ties, 
and larger poles, and, later, small logs suitable for the saw¬ 
mill would begin to come in. 
In a general way, the crops would come every other year 
after the third, say, the fifth, seventh and ninth years, and 
then, perhaps, every third year, the 12th, 15th and, per¬ 
haps, 18th year. From the 20th to the 30th year there 
would be occasional crops from fast-growing trees on good 
land whenever they became too thick, and in the 30th year 
the entire crop would be cut off as good merchantable 
timber. It would pay in many instances to wait even 40 
or 50 years for a crop, but after that time the trees would 
grow so slowly that it would, probably, be better to begin 
again. Under the care of a skilled forest-keeper there 
would be, after the third year, some money returns from 
the plantation every year, both from the sale of good 
sticks and from fire-wood cut from imperfect or misshapen 
trees, and from the trimmings of the trees cut for poles 
and small timber. 
The only danger to such a piece of town property would 
come from fire, and this it would be the keeper’s duty to 
guard against. No doubt, under good management and 
with proper inspection such woods could be readily insured 
for a good part of their value. As woods they would not 
be very attractive for the first 10 years. The trees would 
be too close together to afford pleasure grounds, and the 
trees themselves, being grown for wood and not for beauty, 
would be very tall and slender, with branches high above 
the ground. This would render them all the safer from 
fires started in the grass of neighboring fields, as the 
flames would not be able to reach the higher branches. 
Such forests would be admirable wind-breaks to protect 
the roads and more valuable lands, and would form, in 
time, a pleasant feature of the landscape. If found profit¬ 
able it would be well to add to these forests, from time to 
time, such new lands as could be purchased by the town 
at very low figures. After the first two or three years it 
would also be a good plan to start a nursery where young 
stock could be raised for replanting. 
Such forests might properly be called communal forests. 
They would belong to the community or town, and would 
be a continual source of income, instead of loss. How 
much and how soon such communal forests might pay 
would depend entirely on the commissioners and the 
forester or keeper. If the former are earnest and faithful, 
and the latter knows his trade, there can be no question 
that such forests would pay. At any rate, they would pay 
better than wild blueberries and unpaid taxes. What 
trees to plant, how to care for the different kinds, are 
questions for the practical forester. The aim here is to 
make the suggestion that communal forests would be a 
thousand times better than unpaid taxes and all this 
wretched moan about abandoned farms. 
WILL EDUCATION HELP THE FARMER ? 
C. E. CHAPMAN. 
Advantages of a collegiate education; old Mossback's 
floundering movements, and young Progress's rapid 
headway on the farm; the present fierce competi¬ 
tion necessitates more intelligent methods; the farmer 
of the future must he a leader of men, a user of 
machinery, a buyer, a salesman, a botanist, a 
chemist, an engineer, a manufacturer and experi¬ 
menter, and a sound education develops executive 
ability, gives a roundness to character, and tits a 
man for success in the battle of life. 
A few years ago an agricultural college graduate was 
unknown ; and yet men ran in debt for house and farm, 
and by patient saving and incessant labor, in 30 to 40 years 
paid off the mortgage and became free. But at what a 
cost 1 They were back-broken and old before their time. 
Habits of economy were ground into their natures until 
recreation seemed a sin and was actually a hardship. They 
had no appreciation of the beauties of Nature or desire to 
investigate the mysteries that surrounded them. Thou¬ 
sands of them who survive are no more men and 
women, in the true sense of the words, than the other ani 
mals that are found on the farm. Old age creeping upon 
them, finds them following the same tread-mill existence, 
until the grave receives them. God forbid that any of mine 
should get into this rut! This was a war between muscle 
and mortgage, in which the victory was dearly bought; but 
still it was was a victory. To-day the improvements in the 
modes of transportation and the cheapening of freight 
place the American farmer with his higher-priced land 
and labor, in competition with the pauper labor of the whole 
world. Muscle, unaided by brain, no longer can win the 
battle of life under these conditions. No shortage of 
any crops now causes high prices to be paid to the pro¬ 
ducer for what he 
may raise, and he 
must be able to 
grow his crops so 
as to sell at the 
average price, or 
fail. The price of 
farm products is 
now nothing 
more than the pay 
for the labor be¬ 
stowed on them. 
The cheaper they 
are grown, the 
larger the wages. 
This state of 
things compels 
the use of ma¬ 
chinery, which 
can do better and 
quicker work. 
Education fos¬ 
ters an inherent 
dislike for man 
ual labor and 
gives ability to 
ad apt and use ma¬ 
chinery, which is 
one of the con¬ 
trolling factors of 
success. As an 
example: One 
Cornell boy home 
on a vacation, 
commenced cut¬ 
ting corn with the 
hired help—good, 
sturdy fellows 
with but one 
idea, i. e. “ to get 
that corn cut.” After one round, with blistered fin¬ 
gers and aching back to push him on, the student 
began to wish for an easier way. (I believe almost 
anything is possible for him whose desire is strong 
enough ) At noon, the reaper was run out and tinkered 
up, and iD the afternoon the brainy student accom¬ 
plished more work than the four laborers. The next 
day he assumed the place education will give any man, 
i. e. , that of leader, and saved his father $10 in har¬ 
vesting the crop. A practical knowledge of the present 
methods can be obtained by working on a farm, if one is 
naturally shrewd; but four years of college training will 
bring power to observe, a desire to improve and investi¬ 
gate, that will, in a short time, place a man far ahead of 
the muscular farmer. The student is well balanced; all 
his faculties are developed ; he has ability to enjoy Nature 
and, what so many lack, administrative capacity. No 
amount of education will transform a leather-head into a 
Roberts or Chamberlain. The successful farmer of the 
future will have to practice intensive farming on an ex¬ 
tensive scale, managing gangs of men and machinery, on 
the business principles of the great manufacturing in¬ 
terests, or grow the finest, rarest, highest-priced delicacies 
of farm and garden products on small areas, for seed pur¬ 
poses and the gratification of the rich who are both able 
and willing to pay liberally for them. 
Neither of these systems has any use for the ignorant ex¬ 
cept as a servant. The skilled laborer as foreman or pro¬ 
prietor commands wages far above the average. It is 
easier to get work for $100 per month than for $15, if one 
knows how. Lots of undeveloped brains are of no earthly 
use. A farmer must be a producer, manufacturer, buyer, 
and, last but not least, a salesman. 
In no other business is a varied and extensive knowledge 
so useful. As producer, a knowledge of botany enables one 
to understand the wants of vegetables and grain and their 
DIGGING POTATOES BY MACHINERY. From a Photograph. Fig. 153. 
