136 
THE CULTIVATOR. 
Arm, 
easier to find fault than to amend; that these farmers are 
poor; that their land is sterile, and thin; that it is full of 
stones, and only won by the hardest from the rugged 
hills. 
These things are doubtless true, but they do not at all 
affect the necessity for a vital reform in the system at 
present pursued. They say—we cannot go to the expen¬ 
ses that are incurred by your rich farmers, amateurs and 
gentlemen; we know our business better than you can, 
and we have enough to do to live now, without trying 
your new fangled experiments, building sheds and barns, 
and being so mighty particular about a little manure. 
Such are the remarks that we hear from this class of far¬ 
mers; they cannot and will not be taught. 
Now, I would ask, why in the name of common sense, 
need these men pursue a system so opposite to their true 
interests? It is true, that their crops are thin and scan¬ 
ty, but is not that a cogent reason why they should be fed 
out again in the most economical and careful manner? It 
is true that their land is poor, and worn out, but is that 
a reason for letting what would enrich it, flow into the 
nearest brook? It is true that the man himself, is but just 
able to make both ends meet, but should he, for that rea¬ 
son, neglect everything calculated to better his condition, 
and to make his limited means go farther? It seems to me 
perfectly plain, that if ever man had need to study true 
economy, it is under such circumstances as those which 
exist in many parts of the Housatonic valley. 
The more oppressive and marked their disadvantages, 
the more ought they to seek how they might best over¬ 
come them, and so increase their ability to make further 
improvements. It is not to be expected that they can do 
all things at once; can rectify errors and supply all defi¬ 
ciencies immediately; but they can begin and do some¬ 
thing by the coming spring, if it is only to prevent the 
escape of some of the liquid from the barn-yard, or 
to prepare for forming a barn-yard, where they have 
none that can be properly so called. If they have no 
barn, and cannot afford one, they can put up a rough 
shed; if they cannot afford to hire extra labor, they can 
do a great deal themselves, at little unemployed intervals 
of time. All that is needed for the improvement of this 
valley, or an} 7 other like it. is a conviction that improve¬ 
ment is neceesary, and a determination that in some way 
it shall be accomplished. 
I do not think that in these remarks I have done injus¬ 
tice, or exaggerated the condition of many farms to be seen 
in Cornwall, Kent, New-Milford, &c. Most of those to 
whom I have especially alluded, do not, I am quite cer¬ 
tain, read the Cultivator, or any agricultural paper, and 
will, therefore, probably never know of my criticism on 
their system, or rather their utter want of any efficient 
system; I speak of them, therefore, for the warning of 
others. Yours respectfully, John P. Norton. 
Carrots for Horses. —Horses that have a hard, dry 
cough, or that have the heaves, are remarkably relieved 
by moderate and regular feedings of carrots. A horse 
of our own, had once caught such a cold, that his cough 
might be heard half a mile; he was fed on carrots and 
green clover, kept sufficiently blanketed, never heated, 
and in six weeks was entirely well. 
Dry Roads. 
If the 170,000 farmers of the State of New-York r 
spend on an average but one month annually in driving 
teams upon the public highways, the yearly cost of team¬ 
ing in the state amounts in the aggregate, at two dollars 
per day, to more than eight millions of dollars—equal to 
the original cost of the great Erie canal. Is not then, 
the improvement of our public roads, in order to lessen 
as much as practicable this enormous expense to the far- 
mer, a matter well worthy of his careful attention? 
At the present moment we wish to urge the general 
adoption of a single improvement, which appears to be 
but little known or appreciated, although where it has 
been reduced to practice, it has proved, of great value. 
This is thorough draining -,—*not by the usual shallow,, 
open ditches, from six inches to a foot deep, on each side 
of the road, and so far from the travelled track as to af¬ 
ford it very little relief from tho surface water merely. 
But we mean a first rate under-drain r directly beneath 
the track, which will speedily carry off all the surplus- 
water lodged both on and in the soil; and which, if made 
right, will be the means of reducing mud and mire to 
firmness and solidity in a wonderfully short period of 
time. A large size tile-drain is undoubtedly the best for 
this purpose; but where the tile cannot he had, quite as 
good a ditch, but costing a little more labor, may he made 
by filling in with stones, placing the smaller and flatter 
at the top, and then covering the whole with a close lay¬ 
er of hard-wood slabs or boards, before the inverted sods 
are laid on, and the earth filled in. The usual mode of 
forming a small under-gronnd channel, by placing a row 
of stones on each side at the bottom of the ditch, and cov¬ 
ering this With broader stones, before filling in with the 
smaller, must not be forgotten or omitted where much 
water is likely to be drawn off. And where the bottom 
is sandy, a layer of flat stones or hoards first placed upon 
the bottom to prevent the sinking of the stones, will save 
much trouble in future. 
If the soil is clayey, or in any way not readily pervious 
to water, the stones should nearly fill the ditch before the 
slabs are laid on, even if tile be used, or else the drainage 
will not he speedy or perfect. 
How to Skin a Calf. 
My method is as follows, as I do as much of my work 
as I can myself, and in as short a time as possible: First. 
I secure the calf, as soon as the finishing stroke is given 
him, by means of a pin put in at the stalls over the small 
of his back, and thus keep him to the place till he has 
done stirring. Then having a horse ready harnessed, I 
rip the skin with a knife, and after removing the skin a 
little round the leg, strip it down with the force of my 
hand’completing it by driving my foot down between 
the separated skin and leg. Then first removing with the 
knife the inside corners of the skin r drive it down smartly 
as before. When the skin is removed in the same man¬ 
ner from the other leg, a small chain is secured to it. and 
to this the horse is fastened. The legs being then secured 
by means of another chain, the skin is at once stripped 
off by the horse. A skin thus taken is free from cuts, 
j E. Tail, 
