1890 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
799 
appetite, and if fed liberally, will grow rapidly. If 
he grow faster than other lambs, it is because he eats 
more. He is a great feeder. It is the only difference 
I have found between them and other breeds of 
sheep. 
It would be interesting and instructive to know 
how the October lamb was produced. I was told that 
if I would buy imported Dorsets at $40 each, I would 
have it. It is expensive and those I bought have not 
done such a thing, they and their produce being just 
like other sheep in this. How I wish that I could 
wipe out as with one stroke of the pen the delusions 
and snares of the unprincipled breeder or dealer, by 
which he de- 
ceives the 
farmer or pro¬ 
ducer, not only 
out of his 
money, but out 
of his time and 
worse than all, 
out of his con¬ 
fidence in the 
honor and in¬ 
tegrity of man¬ 
kind. The shark 
of the fancy 
live stock in¬ 
dustry is its 
worst enemy, 
and does so 
much harm, it 
neutralizes 
largely the 
good there is in 
it. I believe 
that a united 
effort should be 
made to expose all the tricks, frauds and fallacies 
of the trade in every branch. Some good must 
result ; perhaps more than at first imagined. The 
subject of early lambs brings vividly before me the last 
subject as stated, and I feel fully able to defend it, too. 
Indiana. _ w. w. latta. 
NORTHERN CATTLE IN THE SOUTH. 
In reply to transferring cattle from the North to the 
South, I don’t think that it has been made clear that 
Virginia is not so much affected by the local and sea¬ 
sonal disease of cattle in the South as are other more 
southerly localities. Neither is the common belief 
that the South is unhealthful for northern cattle, 
altogether, whatever time of the year they may be 
imported hither, at all well founded. It is true that 
animals brought from the North into the South dur¬ 
ing the summer, run almost inevitable risks of the 
southern fever, and many may perish of it ; yet if 
they come here in the winter, they become acclimated 
the next sum¬ 
mer, and with¬ 
stand the risks 
of disease as 
well as the cat¬ 
tle of the local¬ 
ity. It is unfor¬ 
tunate that this 
disease should 
not be elimi¬ 
nated from the 
list of obstacles 
to the increase 
of the dairy in 
the South. It 
would greatly 
advance the 
interests of 
southern agri- 
culture if it 
were. Whether 
or not the 
wood-tick, as it 
is called, is the 
cause of the dis¬ 
ease or not, it 
is true that the 
disease is 
known where the tick is not to be found, and I be¬ 
lieve that the disease is, to a great extent, malarial, 
and due to other causes than the tick, although it is 
very reasonable that this pernicious insect is the 
means of infection or inoculation of cattle, that, 
otherwise, would not be attacked by the disease. It 
is quite reasonable and true to some extent that it is 
so, but not always, as I have reason to know, for 
many cattle that are infested by these ticks do not 
take the disease. 
Here, in the mountain region, which is held by the 
law of North Carolina to be exempt from the dis¬ 
ease, and the transfer of cattle back and forth dur¬ 
ing the summer is forbidden by law, we have plenty 
of these same ticks. I have seen mules and oxen 
covered by them, and eaten into large sores by the 
wounds of these insects, but never a case of the dis¬ 
ease has occurred in cattle, or mules, or horses, on 
account of them. The reason is that we have none 
of the class of diseases commonly called malarial 
here, and while the tick is here sometimes, it does 
not communicate the disease. 
Hundreds of fine cattle have been sent from the 
North to the South in the fall and winter, without 
any disease occurring in them the next summer ; yet 
the ticks abound, as said by Prof. Emery in his notes, 
page 763. They have been acclimated, that is all ; 
and this result goes to show that the disease is one of 
climate and not wholly of the contagion introduced 
into the blood by the ticks. Southern cattle escape, 
and an animal coming here in the fall or winter be¬ 
comes a southern animal, as far as this risk goes. 
The sun’s heat is excessive ; it is not the heat of the 
atmosphere which hurts ; this may be far below that 
of the North, where sunstroke is the result of it, 
while I have never known or heard of a southern 
person being killed in this way. So it is the direct 
heat of the sun which seems to affect the system 
more than that of the air. Cattle suffer in the same 
way, being enervated by the roasting sun almost 
directly overhead, which scorches like a fire the un¬ 
protected skin. It is this direct heat which kills the 
white pigs, leaving the black ones safe, because of 
the unharmful absorption of the heat by the black 
skin. It is the same with the cattle. A sheet strapped 
over the cows will so modify the sun’s heat as to keep 
the animals comfortable and avoid the loss of milk 
which would otherwise happen with unprotected 
animals. It is on this account that the pastures in the 
South should be made under the shelter of spreading 
trees, or the soiling system be practiced. Everything 
here favors the winter dairy with open pasture for 
the cows, which are able to be in the open field seven- 
eighths or more of the time during the winter. Thus 
it may be said that all risks, every way, may be 
avoided by bringing cattle to any part of the South 
from November to April, and protecting them from 
the direct rays of the sun, notwithstanding the ticks. 
Macon County, N. C. h. stew art. 
R. N.-Y.—We are informed that the business of 
stock-growing and fattening in the Middle South is 
assuming large proportions. We expect to give our 
readers all the facts concerning the business. 
HORSE SHOE FARM NOTES. 
GEMS OF HEALTH OK GERMS OF FEVER. 
“ It will soon be Thanksgiving Day ! Have we any¬ 
thing to be thankful for ? ” I overheard one boy say 
to another. The remark set me thinking. At first, 
the low price of our principal crops suggested itself. 
It takes a good deal of labor to bring in a few dol¬ 
lars, then the unbearable antics of an irresponsible 
hired man, and a much needed improvement hindered 
by the rainy weather, came into my mind, and it did 
seem as though I did not need the news that a brother 
had been taken with typhoid fever to make a feeling 
of thankfulness 
difficult. I sup¬ 
pose that it is 
human nature 
always to look 
at the troubles 
first, but it is 
very uncom¬ 
fortable. I am 
thankful that I 
am a farmer. 
N o threaten¬ 
ing whistle 
sounds the 
warning, every 
morning, “ Be 
on time or lose 
your job.” I am 
not dependent 
on any man’s 
whim or favor 
for a way to 
provide for my 
family, and my 
work i s o f a 
nature to bring out all that is best in me. 
Not long since, I was in the shops of a large plow 
manufacturing company. One man was sawing out 
plow beams. He was working by the piece, and had 
been doing it so long that he had learned to do it in 
the quickest manner possible. The stick was not 
pushed an inch farther, or turned once more, than 
was necessary. He had been doing that and nothing 
else for 10 years. His motions were as perfect as the rest 
of the machine of which, in reality, he had become a 
part. What a life ! To do one thing without change 
for 10 years. No new ideas, no growth, nothing but 
monotony. Excuse me ! In another room, huge stones 
were revolving rapidly, throwing dirty water all over 
the attendant who, clad in nothing but a pair of 
black, dirty cotton trousers, was pushing a heavy 
swinging frame, back and forth, back and forth, day 
after day, for years. In the frame was fitted a mold- 
board which was being ground and polished. As it 
swung back and forth, the grinding wheel Hung from 
it a fiery 
stream, which 
lighted up the 
dark, lonesome 
corner, reveal¬ 
ing the sweaty, 
swarthy, grimy 
fellowman, 
who is thus 
heroically toil¬ 
ing for daily 
bread. I came 
out of the work 
rooms thankful 
that my life is 
in the clean 
fields. Should 
the shop shut 
down, I would 
not suffer, for 
our cellar is 
full of stores, 
gathered from 
the fields, and 
there is enough 
to last till they 
grow again 
next season. 
Our membership in the reading club secures to us 
for $2 all the leading magazines and papers. Instead 
of wondering what we shall do if the work fail, we 
can eat, read and rest in content. Last, but not 
least, should we be thankful for health. As long as 
we are not sick, how little thought or attention do we 
give the matter. When the days lengthened into 
months, last spring, and I tried in vain to lift my foot 
from the floor, I said: “If I ever get well again, I 
will not grumble at anything.” My friends, as you 
look around your family circle and see the beloved 
wife smiling, healthy, and, perhaps, happy childi’en, 
think what it would mean to see one of them burning 
up with a fever. Thank God in your heart that they 
are well, and never mind the low price of apples, 
NINETY DAYS FROM THE WILD MARSH. TAMED BY A CELERY CROP. Fig. 262. 
