716 
THE RURAB NEW-YORKER 
May 31, 
Hope Farm Notes 
When I was a boy it was a part of the 
proper week’s ending to speak or sing a 
little poem : 
“IIow pleasant is Saturday night 
When we’ve tried all the week to be 
good.” 
As a matter of fact we never tried 
very hard. As a much more substantial 
fact I never yet saw a person who made 
such a continuous trial and then an¬ 
nounced his struggle who ever reached 
much beyond a hand-made goodness! I 
know a bad boy who was afterward poet 
of his college class who wrote two more 
lines to the poem: 
“And haven’t succeeded a mite 
And wouldn’t know how if we could.” 
This boy kept this version for private 
thought until he grew up—but ho is not 
the first poet who lacked the courage to 
let loose his real thought! 
At any rate we thought of this on the 
evening of May 17 as we got up close 
to the open fire. A fire at the middle of 
May? Y es, and an overcoat as well. It 
is not the fault of New Jersey, but some 
sort of penalty that has been tied to her. 
No rain for nearly three weeks, and cold 
dry winds and frosty nights. You older 
men may have had experience in calling 
upon some young person in bygone years. 
If you saw her daughter now you would 
most likely call her just an ordinary 
girl in white dress and ribbons, not at all 
likely to set any worlds on fire. Yet her 
mother had you burning up. You hung 
about, took all her rebuffs and snubs 
meekly and played the slave generally. 
Now and then you would use up all your 
available cash and buy a present for her. 
She never seemed to care anything for it, 
and you would start home like a school 
boy who has been whipped unjustly. As 
you got to the gate something tempted you 
to glance back and you caught the young 
minx with a look on her face that healed 
the wound and made the future seem like 
an avenue paved with marble and alive 
with electric lights. That young person 
iu her behavior reminds one of May, 
1913, in New Jersey. With the finest 
fruit crop we ever had in sight May has 
scowled and smiled, scolded and cried, 
until we hardly knew where we were 
coining out. I went ahead in the belief 
that sooner or later these young persons 
conclude that smiling is less work than 
scolding, so we did our best with the 
fruit. 
As we get up close to the fire we can 
review the week—spraying, hoeing and 
seeding. There are numerous citizens of 
Hope Farm who will vote Merrill no 
gentleman. I thought he looked like one 
as he ended the week blackened and 
bleached with lime-sulphur and poison. 
No eating bug could have associated with 
him and had any chance for life, so it was 
the army of Codling-worms that voted him 
no gentleman. We tried out the new power 
sprayer for the first time. A little 
stream of water runs from a hidden 
spring down the lane. Merrill scraped 
out a large hole and put a dam at the 
lower end. At the top of this dam is a 
plank with a pipe through it to take care 
of the overflow. The big power sprayer 
was driven beside this little pond and the 
end of a “tank filler” put into a tin pan 
at the bottom of the water. Then a twist 
of the starter sent the engine at work 
and this water was rapidly sucked up 
into the tank. It was enough to make 
any back straighten up a little to remem¬ 
ber how in former years this water has 
been pumped up by hand or lifted in 
buckets. When the tank was full it was 
an easy matter to put in the poison. As 
we were after the Codling-worm we used 
about one gallon of commercial lime- 
sulphur and say 2% pounds arsenate of 
lead to 50 gallons of water. This takes 
care of the, eating insects and gives a 
little help with plant disease. As for 
stirring up the mixture there is a device 
inside the tank like the screw on a steam 
boat which whips the water into foam. 
Tom and Broker called it play to haul 
this sprayer around. They went on be¬ 
tween two rows of trees with the engine 
coughing and spitting and the spray puf¬ 
fing out through the nozzles like smoke. 
The wind was high at times, but the fine 
mist of spray sifted through the trees 
and covered everything. Before Satur¬ 
day night every apple tree had been 
sprayed as never before. With the 
weather we have had this year the work 
could not have been properly done with 
the hand-power sprayer. This week’s 
work convinces me that it will pay a man 
with 10 acres or more of bearing apple 
trees to invest in a power outfit. If we 
were sure of settled weather just after 
the bloom falls we might get through 
with a hand pump, but year after year, 
with us, there will come a combination 
of rain and high wind just when the 
worms are ready to crawl and eat. They 
will no more change their habits to ac¬ 
commodate us than the French would 
have held off for a few days at Waterloo 
in order to let the Duke of Wellington 
gather his army together. In order to do 
a full job we shall go all over these trees 
again in about two weeks—using a little 
less of the poison. By the middle of 
June the young San Jose scales will be 
crawling if the old ones have not been 
killed out. We shall watch for them, 
and if they are numerous get after our 
best trees at least with a weak lime-sul¬ 
phur solution or kerosene emulsion. It 
will take four or five Summer sprayings 
to handle the various broods, but the 
power sprayer will enable us to keep our 
best trees clean at least. 
A week ago, for a few hours at least, 
we would have sold our strawberry crop 
for very little money. Thick ice formed 
on the water tubs and the plants were at 
the height of their bloom. It did not 
seem possible that they could endure such 
cold. We would have built fires around 
the field, but the wind was so fierce that 
it seemed like trying to heat up the whole 
of New Jersey and part of the Atlantic 
thrown in. To my surprise only part of 
the flowers turned black—the others 
seem to be forming berries properly. The 
soil is naturally moist, and we are 
ashamed to say that part of it was quite 
foul with chickweed. This with some 
pepper-grass grew up around the vines. 
I think this gave some protection. We 
have had two Italians hoeing out these 
fields, and as they cleaned out this foul 
stuff they shook the roots free and left 
it as a mulch on top of th& manure be¬ 
tween the rows. This would not do iu a 
wet season, but with these dry, cold 
winds the weeds are killed and also pro¬ 
tect the soil and prevent the loss of mois¬ 
ture. I think this heavy mulch also 
helped to protect the plants. At any 
rate we seem to have come through this 
fearful cold snap with a good chance for 
a crop. So we enter the first order for 
five crates to be delivered about the mid¬ 
dle of June. This is for a “sociable.” 
Last year they ordered three crates and 
did not have enough. What will we do 
with this weed mulch on the berries? If 
the weather keeps dry, leave it where it 
is until after picking. Then take it out 
and pile it around the nearby trees so as 
to get in with cultivator and hoe to clean 
the berry crop. You see we fruit our 
Marshall plants four or five years with 
profit. It would not pay to handle them 
as we do and fruit only two years. 
At odd times during the week we have 
been plowing and planting. It is the old 
plan of following plowing with the lime 
and fitting for corn as soon as possible. 
About 1M: acre of cattle beets or man¬ 
gels have thus far been seeded. This is 
more than enough to enable us to learn 
how to grow them. This is a fine crop 
for home feeding and also for sale in 
small quantities to poultrymen as green 
Winter food. The Crimson clover is 
about two feet high—the best crop of it 
we ever grew. It will be cut May 19 for 
hay. I would like to put it all under, 
but we need the hay more than the trees 
need the clover. For this clover is iu a 
block of Baldwins which persist in mak¬ 
ing wood rather than fruit. Corn plant¬ 
ing will begin next week and we are to 
do a little outside spraying with the big 
sprayer. The first cultivating must be¬ 
gin soon and there is more plowing to 
do. There is work enough for all down 
to the garden which the Redheads have 
started at the end of the peach orchard. 
II. w. c. 
Destroying Caterpillar Nests.— 
The tiny nests of the tent caterpillar will 
be found in April and May in the crotches 
of small trees from three to six feet from 
the ground. Look for them in the old 
fence rows and along the roadside, and 
especially in the wild cherry trees. It is 
an easy matter to destroy them now. 
Wipe them out. Don’t wait until they 
have gone up into the tree-tops out of 
reach. The “boy scouts” might rid the 
country of them, but don’t wait for them. 
Do it yourself. w. c. P. 
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