452 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[December, 
clog of heavy wood attached to it by a chain, 
twenty inches in length; when set, a dry brittle 
weed-stalk is placed beneath the pad, with 
the ends resting on the jaws for a support. It 
should then require a weight of about two 
pounds to spring the trap. When ready, the 
trap is placed between the bait and the adjacent 
bank of the bed; the clog is stowed away as 
most convenient. Both, however, must be 
entirely covered with water. 
Now comes the most difficult part of the 
whole process—to cut a turf of a diameter a 
little less than the distance across the trap, and 
of a thickness equal to the depth of water over 
the pad. It must be cut from firm sod, circular 
in form, where the grass is short. It will not 
do to touch it with the hands, but proceed in the 
same manner as directed for bait. When placed 
evenly on the pad, the work will be complete. 
A fox coming near, scents the bait; he walks 
around the bed, but can not reach the coveted 
treasure from the bank; and as he dislikes to 
step into mud or water, he steps upon the turf 
so cunningly arranged to aid him in his efforts, 
seizes the bait, and the next moment has a foot 
fast between the jaws of the trap. 
If skillfully set, the first fox that comes along 
will be taken; sometimes several days will 
elapse before there is a capture. A heavy rain 
does much towards washing out any traces left 
by bungling hands. The.skillful trapper is very 
particular about his bait. In selecting this im¬ 
portant requisite, it should be borne in mind 
that the fox is as fastidious in his tastes as any 
epicure, though sometimes driven by hunger to 
coarser fare. Poultry of all kinds is his special 
delight, and he will run the greatest risk to ob¬ 
tain it. The carcass of the muskrat is to him 
a great rarity, and from its musky odor is prob¬ 
ably the best bait known. He has also a re¬ 
markable fondness for a cat, the body of which 
is often used for bait by trappers. Choice pieces 
of any kind of meat may be used in the absence 
of other bait. 
Mice are caught by the fox, and eaten with 
avidity. A few grains of strychnine inserted 
in the body of a mouse placed near the 
haunts of the fox, is the usual mode of poison¬ 
ing—a dangerous and objectionable method of 
taking game. No animal intended for bait 
should come in contact with the naked hand 
after life is extinct. Cut into pieces of two or 
three pounds' weight with an ax, it should 
then be carried between forked sticks. 
----v-o.- 
V/alks and Talks on the Farm.—No. 108. 
“I tell you,” says the Deacon, “farmers have 
worked cheap this year.” 
“ I suppose,” replied the Doctor, who, though 
city-born, has had charge of a country church 
for some years, and knows something of the 
trials of farm life, “ I suppose you can not get 
up a strike! I have often thought that farmers 
work harder and for less compensation than 
any other class with the same amount of capital 
and of equal intelligence.” 
This is probably true. But it should not be 
forgotten that we run no risk with our capital. 
We get a low rate of interest, but our principal 
is safely invested, and is steadily rising in 
value. In the mean time, we have a home and 
many of the comforts of life. Let us be thank¬ 
ful. It is no use complaining. We can not 
strike for higher prices. It would do no sort of 
good. And hard as we have to work, and poor 
as is our pay, I can not but admit that American 
farmers, as a whole, are as well off as any far¬ 
mers in the world. 
“We are fortunate in one thing,” said the 
Deacon. “ Apples bring nothing this year, and 
we have none to sell! ” 
One thing is certain—we can not get extrava¬ 
gantly high profits from anyone product for any 
length of time. It soon gets understood, and 
enough people will embark in the business to 
bring down prices to their proper level—and 
generally as much below the level as they rose 
above it. A well-managed apple-orchard has 
been more profitable for some years past than 
any other farm crop. I have no doubt apples 
will always be a good, paying crop in this sec¬ 
tion, but it is not to be expected that they shall 
be so very much more profitable than other 
products. The fruit-growers that will make 
the money are the men who set out the best 
varieties, and give their orchards the best care 
and treatment. There is no error so wide-spread 
and so pernicious as the idea that easily-grown 
crops are the most profitable. From the very 
constitution of things this can not be true. 
Were I a young man, and about to set out an 
orchard, I would select the choicest variety I 
could find, and the one which required the high¬ 
est culture. And I would aim to carry this 
same principle into the selection and manage¬ 
ment of all the crops and animals on the farm. 
“I have had bad luck with my Bates stock,” 
said a young Shorthorn breeder to me a few 
days since; and he went on to give me the par¬ 
ticulars. This cow would not breed, and the 
calf of another was sick, and another died, etc., 
etc., etc. This is precisely what I should expect. 
It is’absurd to expect that an animal bred for 
rapidity of growth and early maturity should 
be as hardy and breed as readily as an animal 
that has no other object in life but to propagate 
its species. I wish this matter was understood. 
It is no argument against the breed. If I offer 
to sell you a barrel of choice Northern Spy 
apples for $5, you might say : “ I do not want 
them. They cost too much. I can buy Bald¬ 
wins and Greenings cheaper.” 
But it would show a sad confusion of ideas if 
you should say: “I do not want them. They 
are very difficult to raise. The trees are a long 
time in coming into bearing. They need much 
pruning, and the land must be deeply drained 
and made very rich, the bark kept free from 
moss or the apples will be specked; and when 
the trees do commence to bear, they bear too 
much, and the fruit is small, insipid, and poor. 
To get good specimens, you have not only to 
give the trees the highest culture, but you must 
thin out the fruit, and take special pains in 
picking and packing the apples to avoid bruising 
their delicate skin.” 
You would say to such a man: “Here are 
the apples—large, fully matured, high-colored, 
free from specks, and of the choicest and highest 
quality. Eat one. It is the best apple in the 
world. What you say may be a good reason 
for not buying Northern Spy trees , but is no ar¬ 
gument against buying Northern Spy apples.” 
And so it is with high-bred Duchess Short¬ 
horns. If they are difficult to raise, that may 
be a reason why you should not engage in 
breeding them. But it is no reason for not 
buying them. If you could show that they 
were of little use after you had bought them, that 
would be a good reason. But the evidence is 
all the other way. The Duchess Shorthorns 
are kept for the purpose of improving other 
tribes of Shorthorns, and these in their turn are 
used for the purpose of improving common 
cattle. Universal experience sanctions their 
use for this purpose and proves their value. 
This principle applies to all our thorough¬ 
bred animals. No one should engage in their 
breeding unless he is prepared to bestow more 
time, thought, care, and labor on their manage¬ 
ment than on common animals. If faithfully, 
honestly, intelligently, skillfully, and persever- 
ingly carried on, there is money, pleasure, repu¬ 
tation, and honor in the business of raising 
thorough-bred stock. But where one man suc¬ 
ceeds ten fail. And I believe it is owing in a 
good degree to a misapprehension of the prin¬ 
ciples here alluded to. Paying high prices for 
choice animals and then leaving them to the care 
of common hired men will not insure success. 
And it is to me one of the most encouraging 
features of our agriculture that so many young 
American farmers are turning their attention to 
this matter. I get a great many letters worded 
somewhat as follows: “I am a young farmer of 
limited means, but I read the Agriculturist and 
other papers attentively, and am satisfied that 
we need better stock, and I would like to know 
what I can get a pair of choice thorough-bred 
animals for?” Depend upon it, that “young 
farmer with limited means,” but with unlimited 
energy, will be heard from. He will attend to 
the stock himself, study the principles of breed¬ 
ing, and bestow the necessary care and atten¬ 
tion, and in a very few years he will carry off 
the ribbons at the County and State Fairs. 
The Deacon smiles at this kind of talk. He 
is clear-headed, and is prepared to accept the 
truth when he sees it, but he is as yet only half- 
convinced. I have great hopes of him, but it is 
not an easy matter to drive new ideas into an 
old head! 
Perhaps I ought not to say it—perhaps I am 
not free from blame myself; but it seems to me 
that agricultural writers do not discriminate as 
closely as they should. We have too many 
half-truths in our agricultural literature. I 
know two or three popular writers who are 
great sinners in this respect. They have not 
the patience necessary to a thorough examina¬ 
tion of a subject, but content themselves with 
presenting crude, undigested, one-sided notions. 
They dabble in science, but quote scientific men 
only so fixr as they agree or seem to agree with 
their own preconceived opinions. They allude 
to “practical experience” in the same spirit. 
They have great respect for it as long as it 
favors their views, but utterly ignore any facts 
that are opposed to them. 
While I was at the State Fair three dogs 
killed two of my Merino sheep and one thor¬ 
ough-bred Cotswold. One of my neighbors 
took his gun and followed the dogs home, and 
shot all three of them. The owners of the ci gs 
threaten to commence an action-at-law to re¬ 
cover the value of their property. In the meat, 
time, I propose to sue the owners of the dogs 
for the value of the sheep killed. If I can re¬ 
cover anything like what the sheep were worth, 
it will have a good effect. It will, I hope, con¬ 
vince some of my good neighbors that keeping 
a lot of half-starved dogs in the vicinity of a 
valuable flock of sheep may be an expensive 
luxury. 
“Can you tell me,” writes a correspondent at 
Camden, Miss., “ why spring pigs are more sub¬ 
ject to disease than fall or winter pigs? Such 
seems to be the fact, not only in my own expe¬ 
rience, but also of others in this neighborhood.” 
Perhaps it may be that the spring pigs do not 
get old enough and strong enough to stand the 
