1646 
HOPE FARM NOTES 
All day long Tom and Broker have 
been bringing up the artillery in our bat¬ 
tle for the apple crop. They toiled up the 
steep hill into the orchard with the empty 
wagon, and then slowly and carefully 
piloted their load back to the storehouse. 
We can haul 24 hampers at one load, and 
even when they are tied securely some of 
thp apples bounce out on their way. Tom 
aud Broker have certainly earned their 
feed today, and they must have a few 
small apples for supper. Too many might 
give them the colic, and big ones might 
choke them. The pickers are working 
through a block of Baldwin trees. The 
Japanese boy is at the top of the tree 
playing the part of sharpshooter—picking 
off the officers. The finest fruit is at the 
top. Each picker carries a picking bag 
slung around his neck and emptying from 
the bottom. In their eagerness to fill the 
bags they are likely to tear off fruit spurn 
which would of course injure next year's 
crop. 1 must confess that I pick from 
the ground. I have little ambition to 
play the acrobat on a high ladder. The 
pickers often pass down the filled bags 
and 1 empty them into the hampers. 
These low-headed trees carry a good share 
of their fruit so it can be picked from the 
ground. As we work along the hampers 
string out in a crimson circle around each 
No frost yet, but clear, Brilliant sun¬ 
shine, which is painting glorious colors on 
the fruit. We finished picking McIntosh 
last week, and then went after the Sut- 
tons. I think more of that variety as it 
comes into bearing. Before it really starts 
working the Sutton stands up like Ivieffer 
pear, trees, straight and slim, like some 
lazy young fellow who has, apparently 
no ambition in life except to dress well 
and keep himself unspotted from all work. 
Then, finally, the tree bursts into bloom, 
and as the fruit develops the branches 
come down with the weight and the tree 
takes on what I may call the shape of 
labor. It is as if that lazy spruce of a 
young man shook himself, pulled off his 
shining clothes, put on_ overalls and a 
rough shirt, shook his big shoulders and 
got down into the work. That is what 
Sutton did for us this year. The big. 
red fruit hung in long ropes, crowded to¬ 
gether on the limbs. The apple is, I 
think, superior to Baldwin in flavor. 
Both varieties have the habit of dropping 
badly when they are done growing. They 
must be picked at once when they are 
ready. Sutton is worse than Baldwin in 
this respect, and. therefore, we cleared 
the Suttons out first. Now Baldwin is 
ready. Shake a limb and down they 
come. We must get them off before the 
high winds come. There are windbreaks 
around most of our orchard, but when 
Baldwin once shows the bright red it is 
like the white flag in front of an enemy. 
***** 
Over the stone wall from where we are 
picking are blocks of York Imperial, 
Black Ben Davis and Stayman. They 
are loaded with bright crimson fruit, and 
it seems to me that York and Ben are 
taunting their neighbors, Sutton and 
Baldwin. York is the spokesman, while 
Ben nods approval till his fruit glitters 
in the sunshine: 
“I thought these Yankees were such 
stickers. Next to that Canadian McIntosh 
you are the worst quitters in this orchard. 
The minute you get ripe you throw up 
your hands and drop. Now look at my 
old friend. Ben. and me. We are none 
of your boasted Yankees—he came from 
Indiana and I am Pennsylvania Dutch. 
There is no more Ybnkee in us than there 
was in Abraham Lincoln. but we have 
bulldog blood, we have. _ You don’t find 
us falling like a hurt child; we hang on, 
we do. This man does not. worry about 
us. He knows that we will stay right 
here and defy Jack Frost and the wind, 
too.” , 
Stavman is a little too dignified to get 
into this war of words, but he nods his 
head in approval, for he is a stickei*, too. 
Baldwin came out of the wild woods 
originallv. and he can talk back. 
“A bulldog may be all right to hang 
on. but few people will credit him with 
brains. We know how to conduct a 
‘masterly retreat..’ You may have vital¬ 
ity, but you have no juice. When we 
get ripe, naturally we know it is time 
to leave the tree. We do not pretend to 
be baseballs or pincushions. We do not 
have to wait for Jack Frost to pre-digest 
us before people can use u« for food. 
We are apples—not part of the real es¬ 
tate, like shingles, nailed to the barn. 
The Hoosiers and the Pennsylvania 
Dutch have some good qualities, hut 
when you want flavor and quality, come 
to New England, where the quality folks 
start from !” 
It was a good debate. I never would 
plant any more Yorks or Bens in New 
Jersey. Nor shall we plant any more 
Baldwin or Sutton. Nine out of 10 of 
our future planting will be McIntosh—a 
worse “quitter” than any of the others. 
Well, who ever did find beauty and qual¬ 
ity united with bulldog traits? 
***** 
This question of varieties is something 
of a puzzler. Thomas sells our fruit in 
the Paterson market, and knows what the 
E eddlers and storekeepers want. I asked 
im what varieties he would plant if he 
were putting in 500 trees. He was to 
judge entirely from sales. He does not 
pretend to be any “pomologist” or horti¬ 
cultural authority. He would plant for 
selling entirely. His choice would be 
Ve RURAL. NEW-YORKER 
Wealthy, McIntosh, Baldwin and Dela¬ 
ware Red Winter. That is a quartette 
of red apples running from early to lat¬ 
est, and all good sellers. I should add 
a few Staymen to this list, and I would, 
of course, have a few trees of other kinds 
for home use. Some people will make 
money raising Twenty Ounce and Wolf 
River, thinning the fruit so as to got. big 
specimens for baking, but the four varieties 
which Thomas names are good ones, let, 
right in the next township, on a little 
different soil, other varieties might, pay 
better. One man near me says York 
Imperial pays well. Another has top 
worked Baldwin and Spy to Ben Davis, 
and he says he has made money by doing 
so. Yet sometimes people find fault be¬ 
cause I hesitate to name definite varieties 
for their planting, without knowing their 
local conditions. 
***** 
Teople come to the farm to buy apples 
and often remain to give advice or criti¬ 
cism. Some of them have read in the 
daily papers about the immense apple 
crop and they expect to get fruit for 
nothing. Some will even bring clippings 
to prove that fruit should be practically 
given away. One man undertook to beat 
us down. We told him what we got in 
the market, and that since he came for 
the fruit we would deduct 50 cents a bar¬ 
rel. Then he began a regular beat-down 
game. 
“Now.” we said, “what business are 
you in?” 
“I sell shoes.” 
“What would you charge for such a 
shoe as I have on?” 
He looked it over carefully and said 
“SI 0.50.” 
“Suppose I went to your store and 
said: ‘That price is too high. I’ll give 
you $8.’ What would you say?” 
“Nothing doing!” 
“Now a farmer may get 50 cents for 
the hide which made the leather in those 
shoes. You expect me to give over three 
barrels of apples for one pair. I will 
just say as you do—nothing doing!” 
“I know where I can get better apples 
for less money.” 
“Well, then, it’s your duty to your 
family to go and get them. You may 
find some man weak enough to give his 
fruit away, but they don’t make any bet¬ 
ter fruit, and you know it. I have named 
our price. You may take it or leave it.” 
“You talk pretty harsh for a farmer!” 
“One trouble with the farmer is he 
hasn’t talked ‘brash’ enough. I’ve 
given you a fair discount for coming 
after the fruit. You can take it or leave 
it.” 
“I’ll leave it. You can’t bluff me!” 
He went back to crank up his car full 
of fight. The children had given his wife 
a good, mellow McIntosh, and she was 
gnawing it to the core. From a distance 
I noticed a very animated discussion be¬ 
tween them, and then back he came like 
a man sent by the master to correct a 
fault. 
“Say, I’ll take three bushels of these 
apples with me and come back for three 
barrels more later. Be sure and save 
them.” 
“It’s a (jreat life if yon don't weaken .” 
The time is coming when farmers are 
not going to weaken. 
***** 
It is only now and then that we have 
such customers. The great majority of 
them know they are getting a bargain, 
and are very decent. I like to do busi¬ 
ness with them. 
***** 
Now and then some very critical fellow 
comes along. 
“Say, why do you let these weeds grow 
in this orchard? I never saw such slov¬ 
enly farming. Look at those trees— 
headed way down to the ground. Look 
at the apples on the ground. Why don’t 
you pick them up as fast as they fall?” 
It goes on that way for half an hour. 
The beauty of the fruit, the glory of the 
October 23, 1920 
harvest and the evidence of work and 
care never appeals to them—only the 
weeds and windfalls. 
The truth is that we plowed half the 
orchard this year and cultivated it fairly. 
There ought to have been a cover crop 
seeded in July, but at that time it was im¬ 
possible to spare an hour’s work of horse 
or man. So we just let the weeds come 
in as a cover crop. What a mass they 
have made. All the weeds you can think 
of, and plants of Alsike, Sweet clover, 
Timothy, Alfalfa and Red-top from seeds 
long dormant in the soil. It has taken 
the place of a cover crop. If I could 
have had time these weeds would have 
been mowed and left on the ground, but 
that was impossible. I have long be¬ 
lieved that the time will come when rag¬ 
weed and quack grass will be ranked 
among the valuable cover crops for or¬ 
chard needs. As for windfalls, my friend 
saw some seedlings from a bunch of 
sweet wild fruit. The apples are of no 
value for anything except feeding to stock. 
Imagine the economy of putting $3.50 
men to picking up hog apples while this 
high-class fruit is hanging on by its 
teeth. Yet my friend goes away saying 
that these lazy and shiftless farmers do 
not deserve success because they will not 
practice “efficient management.” Surely 
tve need city men to come out and show 
us how. Some of these city men buy 
farms in order to show these old farmers 
how to do it. They make what I may 
call a holy show of showing us! 
***** 
I have a friend who goes about lectur¬ 
ing on “salesmanship.” I understand he 
can sell his words to good advantage. 
Hie trump card of advice seems to be 
that you must appeal to the buyer’s 
imagination, “put wings on it,” as he 
says. I tried that one day in selling 
apples. A man and his wife came in their 
car and bought McIntosh and Sutton. I 
thought it a good chance to work off a 
big yellow apple which we call the “un- 
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