1906. 
6i9 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
Hope Farm Notes 
Farm Notes. —At August 1 I can see 
clearly several mistakes and failures of 
this season. A small one was made when 
we planted cabbage between the Spring- 
set strawberry plants. These cabbages 
have spread out so that some of the 
strawberries have not put out a runner, 
but spindled into poor, weak vines. We 
can fix them by cutting out the cabbage, 
but such close planting does not pay. I 
think now I made two mistakes with 
my cow pea crop. As the season turns 
out I would have been better off if I 
had planted early potatoes in hills in that 
orchard. This is the best season both 
for yield and price we have known, and 
by working the potatoes both ways we 
would have had a fine seed bed for Al¬ 
falfa. We would also have been better off 
if, instead of sowing the cow peas broad¬ 
cast, we had put them in drills three feet 
apart—or even in hills. This would have 
given us a chance to cultivate and keep 
the ground clean. As it is, this wet 
season has driven on a mass of weeds, 
which have nearly smothered the cow 
peas. I hesitate to sow Alfalfa after such 
a foul-looking field and how we are ever 
to cure such stuff without sun is too 
much for me. Another mistake was to 
cut down the top-dressing of fertilizer 
on the grass. I now see that I could 
have added 50 per cent to the hay crop 
if I had used a few hundred pounds of 
extra fertilizer per acre.The 
second growth of Alfalfa was cut later 
than we expected, as the mowing machine 
broke, and it took some time to have it 
mended. The second cutting seems 
heavier than the first. It was not quite 
so high, but seems, to have thickened up 
considerably. There is a good lot of it, 
and this second cut will be cured in 
better shape than the first. Some humans 
may not find it in their bones to make a 
flying start, but it is not so with Alfalfa. 
Before this second cut could be moved 
out the stubble was shooting up new 
recruits at every joint, and getting a 
start for the third cutting. Let some 
doubting Thomas, who thinks it won’t 
pay to fuss with Alfalfa, see the way this 
crop delivers the goods and then instead 
of blowing about it, goes back for an¬ 
other load, and he would change his 
name to Hopeful Horace at once. . . 
Our work for the first two weeks of 
August will be weeding, cultivating, pot¬ 
ting strawberry plants, cutting the trash 
along the stone walls, and generally clean¬ 
ing up. The cabbage plants were set out 
on the oat stubble, and seem to have 
made a good start. The strawberries 
are in the laundry—that is, we are clean¬ 
ing them as best we can. This means 
getting on your knees in the old beds and 
pulling weeds by hand. In the Spring- 
set beds most of this cleaning can be 
done by horse power, but where the old 
beds are to be carried over we always 
have a tussle. This makes me think 
more and more each year that it hardly 
pays to fruit a bed more than one year, 
yet we continue to plow out the middles 
and train new plants. The President 
strawberry is not giving as many runners 
this year as it should, and I shall not 
have as many for Fall planting as I hoped 
for. . . . That Canada flint corn on 
the hill is now coming with a rush. By 
August 1 it had been cultivated 10 times, 
and we expect to work it four times 
more. Of course one object of this fre¬ 
quent cultivation is to fit the soil as well 
as we can for grass seeding. While this 
cultivation may not be equal to Clark’s 
plan of intense culture all through July 
and August, it comes as near to it as 
we can' get this year—and is giving us 
corn too. . . . Every year in seasons 
like the present the old question about 
early digging of potatoes comes up. The 
local price is high now, but the crop is 
not fully matured. Many tubers are large 
enough, but still others are too small. 
Shall we dig now and sell at high prices 
or wait until the tubers are as large as 
they will grow? Our Irish Cobblers are 
of good size, and I am tempted to dig 
and sell while most of the vines are yet 
green. One thing about this is that when 
we get the tubers out early we have a 
better chance to fit the ground for the 
next crop. 
Child Life. — T should feel sorry for 
the farm where there are no children, and 
where their side of life is not made some¬ 
thin" of a feature. I have told how our 
little folks got up in the morning to 
practice running and jumping so as to be 
prepared for the 'picnic. They came 
home covered with glory and prizes. The 
boy won four prizes, and each of the 
girls two. Each also won the “grand 
prize” in their classes. Here was a great 
slice of glory for Hope Farm, though 
the boy felt that a chain was tied to his 
share since he played baseball and 
muffed a couple of flies in the outfield. 
We must have great speed at Hope 
Farm! It would seem that our racers 
beat some who really covered the ground 
fastet. Jack made our little folks prac¬ 
tice starting until they got away at the 
word, and that was where they won. 
There is an entire sermon in that, for 
it is the start a fellow gets that gives 
him the advantage. Those dawdlers or 
shirks or cowards who hesitate and think 
long about getting into motion are pretty 
sure to find when they do start that some 
one has the place they desire in the race. 
The possession of such a race advantage 
usually amounts to 9.9 of the whole. The 
story of the hare and the turtle does not 
often work out in real life. Few hares 
that run on two legs are kind enough to 
lie down and sleep—at least it doesn’t 
pay to figure on it. But if I could get 
our folks to get a flying start at work 
there wouldn’t be a weed on Hope Farm. 
. . . There has of late, however, been 
a great awakening early in the morning. 
Instead of being obliged to call and call 
I often find the boys up before I am. 
It would be a great thing if I could truth¬ 
fully say that the great value of an early 
and quick start at the picnic has shown 
the boys how prizes are to be won at 
agriculture, but I regret to say that there 
is nothing in it. The boys are trying 
to trap woodchucks on the hill, and they 
get up early so as to look after the traps. 
Will some one tell me how to train a 
boy so that he can see as much fun in 
pulling a big weed as he would in catching 
a wild animal ? I am not likely to be 
told, and I doubt if I would use the 
knowledge if I had it—for I don’t want 
machines—I want boys. No great dam¬ 
age has been done to the woodchucks yet. 
One got his foot in the trap and pulled 
it out again, but if he is as wise as some 
men I know who carry the scars of trap 
jaws around with them he will keep out 
of it hereafter. ... I spoke of cutting 
down a cherry tree. This was not a bad 
job for the boys, but when it came to 
digging out the stump we had another 
story. You try to dig out the root of an 
old habit and see what a thankless job 
it is to undo Nature’s underground work. 
If George Washington’s father had told 
his son that there \vas no tap root on 
the cherry tree George would have con¬ 
sidered his father inferior to himself in 
a truthful statement of fact. The boy 
dug awhile, cut off a few surface roots, 
and then was ready to quit in despair. 
“No one can get such a big tap root out,” 
he said. I went out and tried the ground 
with the pickax, and satisfied myself there 
was no tap root at all. It was hard to 
convince the boy, and he went at it quite 
unlike the way he started in the race. I 
told him to cut off the surface roots, and 
then, if he found a tap root I would twist 
it off with the horses. When I came back 
he had the stump clear and out of the 
ground. I have seen very much larger 
children before now ready to quit be¬ 
cause they thought there were deep tap 
roots on their troubles when plain, easy 
surface digging would get them out. 
These sad dog days are often depressing. 
“They make your debts seem larger and 
your assets seem smaller,” as I say to 
Mother after a tiresome day—on the 
porch after supper. “But what has this 
weather to do with debt? says Mother, 
who thinks it is hardly her job to finance 
the family! The boys claimed to be well 
tired by their day’s work before supper— 
yet they ran out after the meal for a 
game of ball. It wouldn’t be bad to live 
in the time when you could knock every 
trouble out with a baseball bat—with one 
out in the field to catch them on the fly! 
Not being able to do this it is not a bad 
nlan to call all hands together and read 
the Ninety-first Psalm, and sing “Lead 
thou me on!” 
Too Much Manure.— This question 
comes from Illinois. I have had others 
like it before: 
Is It possible to put too much horse 
manure on our black clayish soil? If so, 
what is the limit? I keep more horses 
than I have land. 
I should consider it quite possible to 
use too much manure, though I have not 
been fortunate enough to try tlie exper¬ 
iment. I can conceive that too much ma¬ 
nure might prove injurious in at least two 
ways. It might supply so much nitro¬ 
gen that crops would be driven largely to 
stem and leaf. In this way grass would 
make a rank growth and fall down, while 
corn would produce a fine stalk, but make 
no suitable ears, and keep on growing 
stalk until frost. I also think too much 
manure would act somewhat like too 
much lime—making the soil too alkaline, 
which is almost as bad as too much acid. 
My observation is that plants differ in 
their ability to stand too much manure. 
For example, I have seen a pumpkin pro¬ 
duce an immense fruit while growing 
near a manure pile, while a peach tree 
growing nearby was forced to death. Such 
crops as cabbage, onions, celery or lettuce 
might stand 60 or 80 loads of rich ma¬ 
nure per acre, while with me 20 loads 
would be the limit for ordinary farm 
crops. I have been able to use far more 
manure with safety when potash is put 
on with it. I think the action of the pot¬ 
ash is to prevent too much stimulation of 
the manure. If I felt obliged to dump 
too much manure on the ground (what a 
happy condition to be in) I would use in 
addition 150 pounds muriate of potash 
per acre. To some western men this idea 
of using more fertilizer to cure the effects 
of too much manure may seem strange, 
but when we consider the effect of potash 
and phosphoric acid we shall see the phil¬ 
osophy of it. 
A Lumpy Soil. —Here is a garden 
problem from Long Island that needs 
solution: 
Three years ago I purchased a side hill 
at the rear of my house which had been 
used as an orchard, but was badly neg¬ 
lected, and had not been worked for about 
15 years. I had ail the trees and under¬ 
brush dug out, and then put on a heavy 
coat of stable manure, which was thor¬ 
oughly ploweu under, and the ground cut 
up with a wheel harrow. I then started 
my garden, which was fertilized from time 
to time as the truck was growing. Each 
year I have repeated this same thing, but 
the ground gets so hard that I experience 
great difficulty in working. The hill faces 
the west, and the soil is a dark loam, and 
when worked breaks up in lumps, which is 
very annoying, as the lumps roll on the 
truck in the rows, and one has to go over 
it and with the hand roll the lumps back 
between the rows, which run crosswise of 
the field. The hill has produced verv good 
vegetables, but I am sure would do better if 
I could keep the soil mellow. How can 
this be done? I have used some planer 
shavings manure, thinking it would help 
it, but it does not seem to do so. b. w. c. 
Anyone who has put fine garden seeds 
in a lumpy soil and then tried to be proud 
of his garden will know how this man 
feels. I think this soil needs lime. Ma¬ 
nure where planer shavings are used is 
apt to be sour.. I do not think this would 
be so likely with cow manure, since that 
is moist and the shavings are more likely 
to be soaked. Where the shavings are 
used in horse manure I would, from my 
experience with sawdust, keep them out 
of the garden. Lime has the effect of 
breaking up such lumps. I would as far 
as possible plow or dig the soil this Fall, 
and give a thick coat of air-slaked lime, 
raking or cultivating it in. I think this 
will fix the soil so that you can smash 
it fine with cultivator or harrow. 
A Horse Robe. — T have received nearly 
a dozen letters much like the following. 
They seem to come from all sorts of 
people—often from those who keep only 
one horse, and do not know how to 
handle the hide: 
You spoke of having old Major’s hide 
tanned into a robe. Is It satisfactory? 
How did you kill the old horse, and what 
is the best way to do such a thing? What 
did you do with the hide? Who tanned 
It, and what did It cost? 
I would not sell the robe we had made 
from old Major’s hide for any money. 
This faithful old brute grew very feeble 
last Fall. He did no work after Au¬ 
gust, but lived in pasture with the brown 
colt. One day he fell down in his weak¬ 
ness and could not get up. As his end 
seemed near Seymour killed him instantly 
by a blow on the back of the head. 
The hide was taken off at once to the 
knees and head. The mane was left on, 
but the tail was cut off. The raw hide 
was well salted, on the raw side, rolled 
up, packed in a bag and sent to the Cros- 
by-Frisian Fur Co. It took them some 
six week to tan and line the hide—the 
work costing about $10. The quality of 
the robe they turned out was a wonder 
to me. As for killing an old horse, I 
think the most humane way would be for 
some good shot to stand close in front 
of the poor brute and put a rifle bullet 
into his forehead—just above the eyes. 
I could not do this to an old friend like 
Major, but it seems to be the best way 
quickly to end their sufferings. We have 
tried poisoning and chloroforming, but 
the rifle shot seems best. There is usu¬ 
ally some person in every neighborhood 
who can kill and skin a horse. I like this 
idea of haying the robe made to keep the 
old horse in remembrance. 
Duties of Postmasters. —It will be re¬ 
membered that we have had some dis¬ 
cussion about a Vermont postmaster. 
Now comes the man who wrote the orig¬ 
inal letter with the following: 
I wrote the Post Office Department as 
follows: “I am told by the local post¬ 
master that I cannot receive my mail at 
the post office when I am occasionally 
there and want it, and also by rural free 
delivery. If common sense prevails and 
the opposite is true, will you kindly so 
inform me?” After a resiund of my in¬ 
quiry the Fourth Assistant Postmaster- 
General continues as follows: 
‘Tn reply you are Informed that the 
postmaster is in error, and will be In¬ 
structed accordingly. Postmasters are re¬ 
quired to deliver to patrons of the rural 
service, when they call for same during 
office hours, and after the carriers have 
left on the service of their routes, also 
on Sundays and holidays when post offices 
are open to the public for the transaction 
of business, mail matter of all classes.” 
Very welcome information to me, and I 
think others who have had the same dif¬ 
ficulty will be glad of it. The idea that a 
considerable portion of each day’s rural 
mail may be held up for a day and a half 
from the time it arrives at the post office 
is intolerable. 
That seems to settle it so far as mail 
deliveries are concerned. Now we want 
to know how our friends come out in 
finding the five patrons who are not sat¬ 
isfied with the postmaster’s services. 
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