366 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
[October, 
Water for Man and Beast by the Road¬ 
sides. 
A few months ago we asked the question, 
Why watering troughs are common by the 
roadsides in New England, rare in the Middle 
States, and almost unknown at the West? A 
correspondent, “ H. T. H.,” writing from Sara¬ 
toga Co., accounts for the fact, by the geologi¬ 
cal formation of the country in these different 
districts. Springs, he says, burst from almost 
every New England hillside, while the brooks 
are in deep bridged gorges. In the Middle 
Slates the brooks are generally easy of access 
from the roads and so the necessity does not 
exist; while in many districts at the West both 
brooks and springs are very scarce. This is in 
a measure true, and perhaps the reason—never¬ 
theless, the desirableness of having watering 
places both for men and beasts on all highways 
of general travel is a thing to be impressed upon 
every community. Horses ought to have an 
opportunity of drinking freely once in about an 
hour, while on the road, but not when ap¬ 
proaching the journey’s end. In hot weather, 
especially, they will go much farther, and draw 
greater loads with less fatigue and danger of 
injury from overwork, if frequently watered. 
The attractions along a line of travel are too 
often the taverns and dramshops, at intervals of 
short stages. Here one always finds the pump 
and water trough, and many a man would glad¬ 
ly pass by were it not for the necessity of wa¬ 
tering his beasts, .while many another rejoices 
in having a good excuse for taking time to sol¬ 
ace his appetite with something less refreshing 
and more likely to do him harm either in dog 
days or in January, than pure water. “ Drive 
Wells” are becoming quite common and are 
very cheap. They are of use, especially in 
countries where bubbling springs and hillside 
rills are not abundant. One of these set at a 
cross-road would often accommodate several 
neighbors in watering their cattle, etc., besides 
being of great service to the traveling public. 
A sound molasses hogshead makes two capital 
troughs; an old bent gunbarrel is an excellent 
spout for the water, and the best drinking cup 
for men to be kept by such a wayside fountain, 
is the face half of a cocoanut shell. The 
“mouth” hole being open, this affords a fine 
place to hang it up by, and this half of the shell 
i.s so nearly worthless for any other purpose 
that no one will steal it. 
Tint Bunker on being “Sound on the Goose.” 
Mr. Editor :—That letter you sent me from 
a Kansas man, who wants to know “ if there is 
any profit in raising geese, feathers being seventy 
five cents a pound,” struck me kind of queer. 
Are feathers the main thing in a goose ? And 
if so, have they not found out all about it in 
that region where the “goose question” has 
been the main one discussed for the last dozen 
years? We are all afloat on that question out 
here in Hookertown, as the geese love to be, 
but I had supposed it was settled in Kansas 
some time ago. My neighbors, as I found when 
I came to consult them, were a good deal di¬ 
vided. We still keep up the Farmer’s Club at 
the school house, that I wrote you about some 
time ago, and Tim Bunker’s pew, as Jake Frink 
insists upon calling it, is pretty well filled even 
in dog days. Deacon Smith, who has large or¬ 
chards, and grain fields fenced with rails, said 
it would not pay to raise geese. They were a 
mischievous bird, always poking their necks 
through fences, and destroying more crops than 
they were worth. He wished there was a law 
against keeping them in any civilized communi¬ 
ty.” Seth Twiggs thought “feathers hadn’t 
nothing to do with the question. I always sell 
my goslins at so much a head, and if the price 
is high enough, it pays. Otherwise it don’t. A 
good deal depends upon having the right woman 
to take care on ’em.” 
“ That’s so,” said Jake Frink. “ Polly aller’s 
makes her geese pay, and if I undertake to man¬ 
age ’em it is no go. They don’t hatch, or if 
they do, the weasels catch the goslins, or they 
get rose bugs in their crops, and they die on a 
suddent. I never had any luck with the critters.” 
Our minister, Mr. Spooner, said: “ The prof¬ 
itable raising of these fowls depended very much 
upon circumstances. If one had a pond and an 
inclosed pasture near the house, and skill in the 
business, it was very profitable to have water 
fowl. But in a village like Hookertown, where 
neighbors were brought quite close together, he 
thought it a nuisance to keep geese in the high¬ 
way. Even if they were yoked, they would 
sometimes break through into the garden, or 
the grain field, and do damage, and the injured 
party, perhaps, would lose his temper and kill 
his neighbor’s geese to avenge himself. He had 
known long family quarrels to begin in some 
small trespass of this kind. He thought they 
ought to be kept out of village streets, as much 
as cattle and pigs, and if a man had not room 
for them upon his own premises he should not 
raise them.” 
This brought George Washington Tucker to 
his feet, whose geese are always in the road, 
when they are not in his neighbor’s fields. “ I 
can’t see what’s the use of having a common, 
and grass on if, if nothin’ is gwine to eat it. 
There is a dozen acres or more here in the 
street, and there used to be a horse pond before 
Tim Bunker drained it, where poor folks could 
water their cows, and their geese have a place 
to swim. I am glad he can’t drain off the grass 
into his own fields. If poor folks couldn’t have 
their geese in the road they would have to give 
up raising ’em.” 
This discussion shows that Hookertown is not 
a unit on the goose question. We are an old 
community, and most of the people think they 
are civilized, but we have never been able to get 
geese out of our streets. The poor raise the 
cry of persecution, and the sight of that green 
grass on the common going to waste troubles a 
good many people besides Tucker. The geese 
at times make a good deal of trouble, and some 
have given up keeping them on this account 
mainly. This of course enlarges the pasture for 
others, and the flocks of Jake Frink, Tucker, 
Jones, and that kind of company, are always 
represented. They not only get into gar¬ 
dens, but into the meeting house on Sunday, 
or rather their noise does. I have seen many a 
good sermon spoiled by the noisy creatures. 
Just as Mr. Spooner gets in earnest and raises 
his voice, the geese set up their squawking, and 
the attention of the people is diverted. The 
windows are all open, these hot Sundays, and 
the geese seem to think church is held for their 
benefit. They speak in meeting a little oftener 
than is for edification. Mr. Spooner, of course, 
thinks goose raising won’t pay even with feath¬ 
ers at 75 cents a pound. There is some human 
natur’ in the pulpit, as well as in the pews. 
They manage this business better down in 
Shadtown, where they don’t allow any animal 
in the street. Every man who raises poultry 
must keep them upon Ins own premises. The 
farmers there derive a handsome income from 
their poultry. They are favorably situated for 
raising water fowl, and have a great contest at 
the fairs in taking the premiums for the finest 
birds and the biggest flocks. The conditions of 
success in raising geese are a pasture with a 
pond in it. A small pond covering say less 
than a quarter of an acre is preferred to a run¬ 
ning stream, or a large sheet of water, because 
it is more easily watched and kept free from 
minks, turtles, and other, enemies of the flocks. 
They have a good many of these ponds natur¬ 
ally, and if nature has not favored them, they 
make ponds by puddling a few square rods with 
clay. Some use troughs, but they are not so 
good. The poultry woman seeks to make the 
most of the few geese she keeps over for stock. 
By good feeding they are encouraged to lay 
early, and the eggs are hatched out under liens. 
They will lay two or three litters, the last of 
which they are allowed to sit upon. The criti¬ 
cal time with the goslings is when they first 
come off the nest and begin to feed. They are 
fed with dough made of Indian meal and “bal¬ 
lasted” with sand. This is considered very es¬ 
sential by the most skillful raisers. They gather 
sand from the shore and put it in a saucer with 
water, to which the young birds help themselves. 
They have the impression that many un¬ 
skilled persons lose their goslings by turning 
them into pastures where they cannot get sand 
or gravel to fill their gizzards. However this 
may be, the poultry women of Shadtown are 
remarkably successful with their geese. They 
feel sure of a gosling that has taken in ballast. 
They are fed daily with dough, but get most of 
their living from grass. Flocks of one and two 
hundred are not uncommon, and a large trade 
is carried on in young geese for the city mar¬ 
kets. Middlemen buy of the farmers when the 
goslings are about six weeks old, giving a dol¬ 
lar and a half apiece. They are put in pens 
and fattened a few weeks, and then dressed for' 
market. The middlemen think the business pays,, 
and the farmers are well satisfied with their 
share of the profits. If the housewife wishes to 
fill a bed or to make a down comforter for her 
daughter’s wedding, she keeps her geese until 
Thanksgiving or Christmas, when the feathers 
and down are perfect, and the flesh is cheap, 
but the early sales are preferred without refer¬ 
ence to the price of feathers. The Shadtown 
folks are “ sound on the goose.” 
Yours to command, Timothy Bunker, Esq., 
Hookertown , Conn., Atig. 15, 1S68. 
-- • ---- 
I 
An Out-door Cellar. 
The storing of roots and vegetables in ahottsd 
cellar in large quantities is always objectionable. 
The temperature is necessarily increased by the 
fires kept up in the house during winter, and 
this favors decay, or commencement of growth 
in vegetables. Besides gaseous substances of an 
unpleasant odor usually pervade the dwelling, 
which are injurious to health. Serious illness 
frequently arises from these well stocked cellars, 
A safer plan is to have the cellar store-room by 
itself. The best location is in a sandy or gravel¬ 
ly hill side, that needs no drainage in the wettest 
season. If not dry it must be made so by arti¬ 
ficial means. One half the depth of the cellar 
may be below the surface. A room ten feet 
square and eight feet high will hold about G40 
bushels, and each additional foot of length will 
add 64 bushels to its capacity if filled full to 
the top. A narrow width is.to be chosen on ac¬ 
count of convenience in roofing. In a region 
