1910 . 
THhC RURAL NEW-YORKER 
1091 
THE COURAGE OF A DRAINAGE EXPERT. 
I think I x-cad that T. E. Martin, of North Rush, is get¬ 
ting 310 bushels of potatoes per acre this year. He is 
the most expert potato grower in the State I think. C. I. 
The above note came from a man in Monroe Co., 
N. Y., himself a farmer and good observer. T. E. 
Martin has written an account of his potato growing 
for The R. N.-Y. He is an expert on 
farm drainage, and this little statement 
about his potato crop makes the time ripe 
for telling this little story: 
I have read with pleasure that Presi¬ 
dent Brown, of the New York Central 
lines, has secured the services of Mr. T. 
E. Martin as superintendent of some 
model farms to be located along the 
line of the railroad. It seems to me to 
be a most fortunate choice. I have been 
acquainted with Mr. Martin for a con¬ 
siderable period and know his worth. 
I-Iis knowledge of the business of farm¬ 
ing is practical and is lai'gely self- 
acquired. He has transformed his own 
farm from one which barely paid ex¬ 
penses into one which pays good interest 
on a valuation of $400 per acre. He has 
done this regardless of the opposition of 
his friends and the jeers of those who 
were careless or indifferent. I do not 
believe that Mr. Martin will object to 
my telling a true story concerning him, 
a story which illustrates the point which 
I wish to emphasize. 
A few years ago I called on Mr. Mar¬ 
tin, and he showed me over his farm, 
and when we returned to the house he 
exhibited a map or plan of his farm, 
showing the location, length, beginning 
and end of every underdrain (amounting 
then to over 200 rods) on his farm. Not 
having his vision of the possibilities of 
his farm, but being somewhat older than 
he and having every interest in his suc¬ 
cess, I said: 
“This is all right, Mr. Martin, but why 
don’t you pay for your farm first and 
then underdrain and improve it?’’ 
He smiled and said: “Now that would 
be putting the cart before the horse. 
I’m going to get it in shape and then I 
can pay for it easily enough.” 
“But,” I said, “I’m afraid the sheriff 
will get it; you have a large mortgage 
on it, haven’t you?” 
“Yes,” he said; “thirty-five hundred 
dollars.” 
“Thirty-five hundred dollars mortgage 
on 57 acres of land?” I said. 
“Yes,” he answered, “but it is the 
least of my troubles. I’ll make short 
work of the mortgage when I get my 
farm ready.” 
After looking over his map, I said: 
“Now what I'd like to have you show 
me when I come next year is a receipt 
for a good-sized payment on that mort¬ 
gage.” 
“All right,” he said; “I’ll show you 
one.” 
About a year afterwards I was at his 
home and he showed me a receipt for 
$1100 paid on the principal, and two 
years afterwards he sent me with a check 
to his mortgagee to pay up the mortgage 
and take a discharge. The payment of 
$3500 and interest in three years from a 
57-acre farm, in times when most farm¬ 
ers were barely paying expenses, cer¬ 
tainly stamps Mr. Martin as a man of 
more than ordinary foresight and ability. 
In passing, let me say that it will not 
be fair to give him all the credit for his 
success. His wife deserves as much 
credit in her sphere as does he in his, 
and he recognizes this fact and seldom 
says “I” in speaking of his farm opera¬ 
tions, always “we.” 
But I do not think every man can be¬ 
come a T. E. Martin in the matter of 
farm management, any more than every 
electrician can become an Edison, or 
reasons: It is the result of all those qualities that go to 
make up sturdy American manhood; self-reliance, self- 
denial, industry, faith and intelligence. Having ob¬ 
tained his advancement without “push or “pull” and 
solely on his own merits, preferment under such circum¬ 
stances is a sign of a healthy state of society, and 
speaks well for the future of agriculture. j. m. h. 
CARMAN PEACHES IN A PENNSYLVANIA ORCHARD. Fig. 465. 
A TURKEY GOBBLER AND HIS FAMILY. Fig. 466. 
A POULTRY THIEF AND HIS VICTIMS. Fig. 467 
every explorer a Peary. The truth is, that Mr. Mar¬ 
tin possesses a natural disposition to- the business. 
In the matter of underdraining, which is, I think, the 
foundation of his success, he has a taste and inclina¬ 
tion for that particular work. He also possesses an 
enormous capacity for hard work, and this has con¬ 
tributed in no small degree to his success. From what 
I have written, one can see that I am friendly to Mr. 
Martin, and that I am glad of his success, and for two 
A WESTERN SKUNK AND HIS WORK. 
To have 14 well-grown chickens killed in one night 
by some wild animal is enough to give the person who 
raised such fowls the blues; to catch the miserable 
author of such damage the following night, gives one 
a better feeling and cause for some exultation. A 
week ago I was through such mill. As a better pro¬ 
tection to our small feathered tribe, we raise our chicks 
until they are old enough to be weaned, in the back 
yard, not far from the kitchen. The regular chicken- 
yard is about 100 feet farther off. Our hired man 
found that some animal was molesting the weaned 
chickens in one of the chicken houses. He hurriedly 
dressed, visited the chicken enclosure and to his sur¬ 
prise saw a skunk trying to get out of the house 
through the wire netting. The man seeing this thief at 
once hastened after his shot-gun which 
he left at the barn door; on his return 
the skunk was not to be seen. In the 
chicken house, which is open on a por¬ 
tion of one side, he found a fine young 
pullet that has been just killed by the 
varmint. That was the last night the 30 
or so young chickens would sleep under 
a roof; they took to an acacia tree and 
a large fig tree between the house and 
the chicken yard. As a precaution that 
skunks would not molest the chickens 
in either of the chicken houses, the 
chicken ladders were removed so that 
the fowls would be obliged to fly up 
from the floor to their roosts. The next 
we knew the skunk or skunks were 
bothering the cooped chickens. The 
mother hens made a great commotion, 
which was even heard by neighbors not 
far off. One chick was killed. The 
next night the coops were closed up in 
what was considered a secure manner. 
The mothers had taken to the trees and 
the little ones, some of which were well 
grown, huddled together, as if they had 
fear in their hearts of impending trouble. 
And the trouble came; the poor little in¬ 
nocents were caged—they could not get 
out, and they had no fearless mother at 
hand to defy the invader with her claws, 
and cry “bloody murder” at the top of 
her voice. The result was that in the 
morning 14 fine healthy chickens were 
found dead in the coop. 
It seems that the skunk squeezed 
through the coop-door, which was not 
fastened tight enough. Of all the chick¬ 
ens in the coop only two were not de¬ 
stroyed by the marauder. The next 
night three traps were set and baited 
with some of the dead chickens. In the 
coop were placed a large double-ender 
wire rat-trap and a steel-jaw trap. Out¬ 
side was a large box-trap. A chicken 
was suspended at the height of a foot 
or so from the ground inside the coop 
and the jaw-trap was adjusted directly 
under. And this trap caught the skunk 
good and fast by one of his fore feet. 
It gives me great pleasure to present a 
life-like picture of his miserable carcass 
as he appeared after he was made to pay 
the penalty for his insatiable appetite for 
chicken blood. It is rather sad, though, 
to behold the victims of his gluttony, 
and then all of them are not shown, as 
some were used for bait, as mentioned, 
and a couple given to the cats. 
For several nights thereafter the traps 
were still kept set, as it was believed 
that there must have been more than 
one skunk engaged in chicken-killing, for 
it is a general rule that they go foraging 
in pairs or by whole families. In this 
case it was believed that a whole family 
were engaged in the slaughter. But no 
more skunks came to molest the chickens 
or to investigate the working of the 
traps—at least no more were caught, al¬ 
though a great big creek rat was caught 
by being inveigled into sampling the de¬ 
caying-chicken bait in the box-trap. Of 
all the chickens killed on the night of 
the great slaughter, only two were par¬ 
tially devoured, and then only sparingly. 
It seems that the skunk killed each and 
every chicken by biting them at the base 
of the brain either to suck the blood or 
suck their brains. I hardly think it was 
for the latter reason, for the cutting or 
eating would have been carried fur¬ 
ther to the top of the head. The skunk 
is the first of the kind I ever saw; all 
of the other skunks had stripes and no spots. He 
was a pretty little creature, though, to be sure, a 
most unprofitable one. This was the first time in 
more than 40 years that we ever had more than one 
chicken killed at a time by either skunks or coons, and 
then their visits would be few and far between. I 
believe if we had had a good dog, some sort of a 
terrier for instance, skunks would not have been so 
bold as to venture so near the house. We have a dog, 
but he has been spoiled by the children, w. a. pryal. 
California. 
