1908. 
'THE RURAti NEW-YORKER 
267 
Hope Farm Notes 
Trotting Blood. — I came out from 
the city and found Henry waiting for 
me with Beauty, the bay colt, and the 
two-wheeled cart. It was just at dark. 
We were to drive past the postoffice for 
the mail, the road running for about a 
mile alongside the railroad track.. I no¬ 
ticed that Beauty was nervous and irri¬ 
table, but we speeded along close behind 
the train. Around a narrow turn in the 
road ahead of us came the sudden glare 
of a motor cycle and the cough of its 
motor. Henry jumped out and got the 
colt by the head. She danced and 
plunged, but we got safely by—in a very 
bad place. Then I took the lines and 
shook the colt out so that we might 
get past the corner before the down 
train came. And we did go! Say what 
you will, there is something about the 
actions of a trotting horse when he 
really lets himself loose that will stir up 
the blood. As we sped on I saw in the 
distance the headlight of the train swing 
around a curve. I should have stopped 
the colt, but I felt sure we could make 
the turn to safety, and I suppose, too, 
there was something of the ‘‘sporting” 
excitement which prompts men to take 
money or sell their property to bet on a 
horse race. At any rate, I foolishly 
kept on. The road fairly flew past us, 
but the train was nearer than I thought. 
At the station the road runs within 30 
feet of the track with a very steep bank 
between. There is a sharp turn to the 
right away from the track, away from 
danger, and I expected to swing the colt 
into this. We got there in time; at the 
turn the colt’s head was just even with 
the head of the engine. I remember 
glancing out of the corner of my eye at 
the moving light. Beauty turned and 
then stopped still and began to rear. 
Then with a snort she began to back 
straight at the moving train. Henry had 
the whip and he jumped out with it. 
He tried to get the colt’s bridle, but 
missed it. They tell me I should have 
jumped too, but I do not jump as easily 
as I did 20 years ago. The robe was 
around my legs and that “sporting” cle¬ 
ment stirred up all the bulldog I have 
to stay by that colt. I could not make 
her go and the more I tried to turn her 
the more she backed. We went down 
lhac steep grade to the track, and behind 
me I heard the train moving. I have 
read De Quincey’s “Vision of Sudden 
Death.” It seemed as if that train 
would not stop and Beauty was still 
backing down that bank. We brought 
up with a smash against the steel post 
of a switch. One wheel struck the train 
just as it stopped. The cart was 
smashed and that switch post missed 
my spine by about one inch. Beauty 
was turned about in the shafts so that 
she faced me. Men poured out of the 
train and others ran from the store and 
gathered in a little group at the top of 
the bank. I was not hurt, but in some 
way the robe had twisted around my 
feet so I could not stir. I could not 
understand why those men did not come 
and get the colt out, but they hung back, 
as they told me, dreading to come and 
see what a lantern would reveal. We 
left the cart and led Beauty home. My 
shoulder was a little sore, but that was 
nothing to the reflection which walked 
with us along the lonely road. Leaving 
out my folly in trying to race with a 
train, here was the whip-lash of an ex¬ 
perience. I was led to breed this colt 
on the fool’s plea that I might get an 
animal so fast that it would be worth a 
small fortune. I was told that such an 
animal would not cost any more to raise 
than a heifer and that $500 would be a 
very small price for it at four years. 
Do you know that I was actually silly 
enough to believe that? I knew that 
the mother of this colt was a stubborn, 
spirited animal, frightened out of her 
wits at bicycles and autos, and yet I 
let myself be argued into breeding a 
nervous, small trotting horse with no 
earthly ambition but to “go” and to try 
to run away. It would be impossible to 
tnink of a more useless animal on a 
form than the crop of trotting blood 
J have grown. Something may be due 
to poor bringing up, but at the end of 
live years of expense and care we have 
nothing but a bag or nerves—to go rap¬ 
idly from place to place and endanger 
nunan life. A “sport" ora horse jockey 
may do something with this “trotting 
mood, but it is moral or business poison 
in iarm horses. This argument that a 
tanner may raise a great trotter on the 
tarni and get a great price for it is one 
ot tiie most dangerous things that ? man 
can have rooted in his head. Beauty is 
a shining example of what a farm horse 
ought not to lie. I read arguments 
made in favor of race track gambling 
to the effect that racing is necessary if 
we are to improve breeds of horses. I 
need some argument yet to convince me 
that society will be better off because 
these racers are able to trot or run 
faster. I do not see how a fast horse 
can improve a man unless he ran away 
and put his master out of the world. On 
the other hand, I am sure thousands of 
farmers 'and their boys have been de¬ 
moralized if not ruined by breeding and 
handling so-called trotters. No more 
“trotting blood” for me. I am willing 
to walk. I have had my horse romance. 
Had I listened to Mother I would now 
have two good horses or their cost in 
my pocket! 
Is it possible to plant a crop of early 
potatoes .Tune 17, and got a profitable yield 
of an early kind of potato? 
Massachusetts. D . j. c. 
We have twice raised a fair crop of 
potatoes in New Jersey by planting the 
middle of June, but the conditions must 
be just right. One time we used seed 
from a Florida crop, which was dug in 
May. Small whole potatoes of this crop 
were put in the orchard under a shady 
tree, covered lightly with straw and 
kept moist. fThey finally sprouted —< 
each potato sending out a single stem. 
These were planted in shallow trenches 
and made a fair crop before frost. At 
another time we used ordinary seed that 
had been kept in cold storage, so that 
no sprouts had formed. They were cut 
and planted in the usual way, except 
that but little dirt was put over them 
at first. They were covered more and 
more as they came through. They struck 
daylight at a bad time—just when the 
bugs, were at their hungriest point. It 
required constant attention to carry 
these little plants along. We planted at 
the top of a high hill. The season was 
long enough and we had a fair crop. 
North of us in the late potato section 
the crop is rarely planted before June. 
With us habit and experience tell us to 
plant as early as we can with safety. 
A Violent Cross. —Here is a case 
not unlike many others: 
I enclose some seeds which I would like 
you to tell me about in The It. N.-Y. My 
teacher distributed a few of them among 
the members ol’ her botany class for the 
purpose of studying them. She called 
them “Cornbeans” and said that they were 
a cross between corn and beans; I planted 
one and it grew like a climbing bean and 
had short, thick pods on it. I think the 
pods were about three inches long. The 
leaves looked like bean loaves but the seed 
is like both beans and corn. I obtained 
about half a pint of seed from the one seed 
that I planted. I cannot find any such 
thing in any seed catalogue that I have 
seen and I would like to know more about 
it. Do you know the real name, if it has 
any, and whether it is edible or not? 
H. D. 
I have had this picture made of five 
of the beans. 
Now I am not even as good a botanist 
as I am breeder of trotting horses, but 
I wish I was as sure of some things 
as I am positive that a cross between 
corn and beans is impossible. We might 
as well expect a cross between a turkey 
and an elephant. You might just as 
well expect the superintendent of a Sun¬ 
day school to drive our colt Beauty to 
church and meet three autos and try to 
pass three fast horses and be in true 
condition for his duties. Dr. Van Fleet 
says this is one of the new Japanese 
beans. They are eaten in Japan. While 
strong in flavor, like a cow pea, they are 
edible. Personally I would rather eat 
cow peas or our common beans. It 
seems to me much like the blind teach¬ 
ing the deaf to give such botany lessons. 
A good cooking lesson would be better, 
for the only way to make a cross be¬ 
tween beans and corn is to bind them 
together into succotash. That is good 
enough food for anybody. One great 
trouble with this world is that there are 
too many unnatural crosses of occupa¬ 
tion in it. People have been put into 
the law, or medicine, or business, or 
farming when they are in no way suited 
to the job. No man can make a suc¬ 
cess of any occupation unless he is so 
dose to it that he becomes a part of it. 
We can boil beans and corn into succo¬ 
tash and get a “cross” that will make 
everyone pleasant, but we cannot put a 
boy or a girl into a misfit job and expect 
them to feed the world wholesome food. 
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