1872.] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
453 
liot weather or the system of summer manage¬ 
ment at the South. In my own experience I 
have never observed any difference, except that 
we usually lose more young pigs in the spring 
than in the fall. This is attributable to the fact 
that the weather is colder in the spring than in 
the fall, and the little pigs are more likely to 
get chilled. At the West, farmers who let their 
hogs follow the cattle in the cornfields object 
to fall pigs as not being strong enough to stand 
exposure to cold storms, etc. The breeders of 
the large Butler County hogs in Ohio do not, I 
am told, let their sows have pigs in the fall. 
They only allow them to have one litter a year, 
and that in the spring. This is one reason why 
they raise such large hogs. 
But the butchers and packers do not want 
large, coarse hogs. Provided they are fat 
enough, they will pay the most for a fine-boned, 
small pig that does not weigh over 350 or 400 
lbs. There is a great demand for bacon to send 
to England, and for this purpose especially pigs 
should be fat, but not too large and coarse. If 
our pork and bacon commanded as high a price 
abroad as the English and Irish bacon,we should 
now be reaping a rich harvest. With our cheap 
corn, we ought to beat the world in the produc¬ 
tion of choice hams, bacon, pork, and lard—and 
we shall yet do it. But we must give up talking 
about “ big ” hogs, and aim to raise those of the 
finest and best quality. - 
The last number of the Irish Farmers’ Gazette, 
in its report of the Dublin market, says: “ There 
was a fair supply of bacon and hams; demand 
fair; old cleared out. Flitch bacon, new, 73s. 
to 76s.; Middles, new, 80s. to 82s.; American, 
40s. to 46s.” How do you like the figures? 
The Irish bacon, if I understand aright, is 
quoted at double the price of the American. 
The American sells for less than nine cents and 
the Irish for over seventeen cents per pound in 
gold. And you must recollect that if our bacon 
advanced eight cents per pound in Dublin it 
ought to advance eight cents per pound in Iowa 
or Kansas. This additional eight cents per 
pound is worth striving for. We talk and think 
a good deal about the demand in England for 
American wheat, but the demand for and price 
of our pork attract little attention from farmers. 
We have exported so far this season over 250,- 
000,000 lbs. of bacon, pork, and lard. 
A Western farmer asks me: “ Why is it that 
farmers as a class have no price for their goods, 
like merchants, mechanics, lawyers, cobblers, 
etc.?” They have. A farmer sells his corn 
for the market price, just as a grocer sells his 
sugar. He can not get more, and need not take 
less. A lawyer, after years of hard study and 
much patient waiting, gains a great and deserved 
reputation, and can command his own price. 
So a farmer who has spent years in improving 
a breed of cattle, sheep, or swine is often able 
to fix his own price. Think of an American- 
bred Shorthorn bull being sold in Great Britain 
the other day at auction for 1,650 guineas, or, 
with gold at 113, $9,397 in American currency! 
“ Why,” he continues, “ should the sons of 
the soil be the ignorant dupes they so often are, 
and be subject to the ‘ tricks of the trade,’ and 
why should traders live more expensively than 
farmers? Is there no balm in Gilead?” If 
farmers are “ignorant,” that is a sufficient an¬ 
swer to the questions. I know a good many 
that are not ignorant. An average farmer is as 
intelligent as the average merchant. There are 
rascals in the city who will cheat if they can, 
and farmers sometimes are their dupes. But 
all the cheating is not confined to the city. I 
have known farmers to tie up dirt in their wool, 
and put wet or damaged hay in the middle of 
the load. I know a farmer who lost over fifty 
dollars last year from putting wind falls in his 
barrels of winter apples. When I first moved 
on to this farm, although I am farmer-bred and 
farmer-born, and have lived on a farm nearly 
all my life, yet it was known that I had been 
editing an agricultural paper for some years in 
the city, and was consequently supposed to be 
“ green,” and a fit subject of the tricks of coun¬ 
try sharpers. Every horse within a dozen miles 
that was spavined, or broken-winded, or blind, 
or balky was trotted out for me to buy. If a 
cow kicked, or had lost a teat, or was a poor 
milker, the owner, though half-a-dozen miles 
off, would think that she was just the cow to 
sell to me. If a flock of sheep had the footrot, 
it was thought desirable to give me a chance to 
cure them—without, however, telling me what 
the trouble was. Every blacksmith, carpenter, 
wheelright, mason, and stone-wall builder in 
the neighborhood deliberately cheated me, and 
then made his boast of it to a crowd of admir¬ 
ing listeners at the country tavern. I never go 
to an auction sale, because I know the auction¬ 
eer, himself a farmer, will bid against me on the 
sly, and cheat me if he can. 
I do not wish to say hard things about my 
neighbors. Nine tenths of them are as honest, 
intelligent, industrious, sober, peaceful, respect¬ 
able, kind-hearted people as any to be found in 
the world; but among the other tenth you will 
find men who, according to their ability and 
opportunity, are as thorough-paced scoundrels 
as you will find in Wall street. There is amongst 
them as much low-bred cunning, as much vulgar 
shrewdness, as much lying and profanity, as I 
have ever happened to meet with in the city. 
As to “why traders live more expensively 
than farmers,” I know of no good reason except 
that they have more ready money and spend it 
more freely. Poor men a3 a rule are more ex¬ 
travagant than rich men. A farmer with a 
farm and stock worth $20,000 may not have 
more than $2,000 pass through his hands in a 
year, while his brother in the city, an enterpris¬ 
ing man that enjoys a good reputation, but with 
no more actual capital, may, by the aid of dis¬ 
counts, indorsers, and credit, use more than one 
hundred thousand dollars a year in his busi¬ 
ness. He takes greater risks, and may sooner 
or later lose everything, but in the mean time 
he makes larger profits and lives more expen¬ 
sively than his brother in the country. To make 
great profits you must run great risks. The 
farmer runs little or no risk, and makes com¬ 
paratively little profit. For my part, I prefer 
to be a farmer; if you would rather engage in 
other business, I have no sort of objection. 
Farmers are making small profits. There is 
no doubt about that. But it is useless to com¬ 
plain. It seems hard for a farmer in Illinois to 
be obliged to pay 45 cents for sending a bushel 
of corn to New York, and then sell it for 65 
cents. But there is no law to compel him to 
send it. He had far better convert it into pork, 
or beef, or mutton, or wool, or cheese. It would 
be better for him, and better for us poor farmers 
at the East who have corn to sell, and who can 
not get as much for our corn as it costs us to 
raise it, owing to the market being flooded with 
Western corn. Our policy at the East should 
be to buy all the corn we can use to advantage, 
while the policy of the Western farmer should 
be to sell as little as possible. 
The one central fact that deserves the thouglit- 
I ful consideration of fanners everywhere is the 
advance of wages throughout the world. It 
means an enormous increase in the consump¬ 
tion of cheese, butter, beef, mutton, and pork. 
The first effect of this increased demand for 
meat will be felt here in the cheese and pork 
market, because cheese and pork can be shipped 
to any part of the world. But it will also cause 
an increased demand for beef and mutton. Our 
aim must be to produce the best quality of meat, 
and then it seems to me there will be no limit 
to the demand. We must introduce better 
breeds, and feed more liberally. 
Corn to-day is the cheapest food in the market. 
I think many farmers tire making a great mis¬ 
take in selling cows at such low prices. They 
are making a still greater mistake in wintering 
them on such poor, innutritions food. Why not 
give them four or five pounds of corn per day? 
Less hay, and more corn and straw, is my motto 
for the present winter. 
This summer my horses got badly run down. 
We fed them liberally, but they did not eat 
well. They had no appetite, no digestion, and 
no strength and spirit. They came home at 
noon and night fagged out, and their night’s 
rest did not refresh them. I sawed a barrel in 
two, and placed the ends on the platform of the 
pump. These are for watering the horses. Into 
one of them we put a pailful of corn-meal and 
mixed it with ihe water. The horses at first 
did not like it, and would only drink a little 
when very thirsty. After they had drunk what 
they would they were allowed pure water. In 
a very few days, however, they drank this corn- 
meal soup with a relish, and in less than a week 
there was a decided change for the better in the 
appearance of all the horses. We do not let 
them eat the meal, but merely let them drink 
the milky water. I have no doubt it is as good 
for them as a plate of good soup is for a tired 
and hungry man before dinner. It seems to 
stimulate the appetite and aid digestion. 
It is a capital thing for cows as well as horses, 
but it is not so easy a matter to give it to the 
cows, as they soon learn to stick their heads in 
the water almost up to their bonis to get the 
meal that settles at the bottom. It is necessary 
to have a large trough with a false bottom. 
This is my last Walk and Talk with the readers 
of the American Agriculturist for the year 1872, 
and there are a great many things I want to say, 
but have not time. 
I want it understood, however, that my faith 
in good farming and my respect for good far¬ 
mers grow stronger and stronger every year. 
I still believe iu summer-fallowing on clay land, 
and am satisfied that fall-fallowing is a good 
thing. I believe that weeds can be killed, and 
am making considerable head way against them. 
My corn i?s the best and my corn-stubble the 
cleanest I have ever bad—better and cleaner 
than the Deacon’s! I think we plow too much 
land, and do not plow our land enough. We 
must have cleaner land. We must raise bigger 
crops, or there is no profit in farming. We must 
keep better stock, and feed more liberally. We 
must make more manure, and, what is still 
more important, we must make better manure. 
And we must take care of what we do make. 
Have you Poke Water ’—Water is as 
necessary to the comfort and health of stock 
iu the'winter as feed; and if they are to be kept 
free from disease an ample supply of it, free 
from ice, snow, or filth, mwstbe furnished them. 
