THE CULTIVATOR. 
33 
‘‘silk business ;” but, in that branch, they were not for¬ 
tunate in the selection of attractive names to their trees; 
for, at the present time, after five years struggle with 
their combined operations, they have sunk the original 
capital, and are, besides, forty thousand dollars in debt. 
Amidst all the trials and vicissitudes of the last fifty 
years, the legitimate silk culture, like some bright star, 
in a troubled atmosphere, has moved steadily onward ; 
ever shining through the mist of doubt, that bedimmed 
the space between promise and hope. The germ, which 
eighty years since, commenced in Connecticut, passed 
unscathed through the time and form of chrysalis that 
“ tried even men’s souls,” and is now an insect, winged 
and perfect; multiplying its species and usefulness in 
building a tower, that may withstand the combined op¬ 
position of over-reaching diplomacy from without, and 
misguided legislation from within. 
(Remainder in our next.) 
Burning Prairies, &c. 
Editors of Cultivator —I have just read an ac¬ 
count in the “ Christian Keepsake, Philadelphia,” of 
the “ burning of a prairie, and a whole family that pe¬ 
rished in the conflagration,” that is going the round of 
papers that delight in the marvellous, and which is cal¬ 
culated to create a very erroneous impression in regard 
to a prairie country. Such tales as this are vastly amu¬ 
sing to us who dwell upon the great western prairies; 
but to those who know naught of them, it is a wonder 
how we escape from such “ a vast sea of fire,” as they 
suppose annually “rolls in terrific grandeur,” over the 
whole face of the country. Let me assure you that all 
these wonderful fire stories are more smoke than fire. 
The idea of burning men, oxen, wagons, horses, and 
every thing that happens to be in the way, belongs to 
the great humbug family. 
The soil of prairies is as diversified in character as 
that of a timbered country, varying from dry and hilly, 
to deep and miry swamp. The great body is dry, tilla¬ 
ble land, and in a state of nature, is covered with a thick 
short grass, that w r ould, if closely mowed, afford about 
three-fourths of a ton to the acre. When dry and dead 
in the fall of the year, it is very easy to burn, and will 
make just such a “sea of fire” as would a late mown 
piece of timothy meadow. Unless the wind is blowing 
with great fury, it is easy to extinguish, by beating it 
with a bush, board, shovel, or even an old hat; and a 
man can pass across the line of fire with all ease, or 
ride through it, or run away from it. I have often done 
each, and I have seen hundreds of miles of rail fence 
built upon the prairie, through which the fire passed 
annually, without setting it on fire, except in rare in¬ 
stances. 
’Tis only in the great marshes, where horses or wa¬ 
gons can not travel, and consequently can not be consu¬ 
med, that the numerous poetical descriptions of a “ burn¬ 
ing prairie” have any application. Upon some of these 
grow a very rank growth of vegetation, six or eight feet 
high in places, but generally about equal to a very good 
piece of mowing meadow, which makes a great fire, 
and would endanger the life of man or beast to come in 
contact with it. The space between the wet and dry 
land affords the best grass for hay. In this county in 
particular, the quality is excellent, and if well put up, 
cattle and sheep will eat it in preference to timothy or 
red top. The dry prairie also affords good hay, but very 
tedious gathering. The common marsh hay is no better 
than the “ bog meadow hay” of the east. Fora grazing 
country, none can be superior to this. Prairie grass 
beef, butter and cheese, is equal to any other for sweet¬ 
ness and richness; sheep are ever fat. Hogs, I cannot 
tell what they would do, for there are no animals here 
but would disgrace the name. Horses do not do well 
upon prairie feed, summer or winter; but the way we 
can raise oats and wheat upon our prairie land, is more 
wonderful than all the great fires that I have ever seen. 
It seems to be the delight of some writers to propagate 
error; but no person who has ever traveled OA^er a prai¬ 
rie country, will believe that man or beast ever lost life 
in the “great conflagration” of dry grass which covers 
the land, which will not average more than six inches 
high. If the growth was very great, it could not be 
turned under with the plow at midsummer, which is the 
time that it is sought to be done by every good farmer. 
Speaking of plowing, reminds me that it may be amu¬ 
sing to eastern readers, to hear a description of a “ prai¬ 
rie plow.” Fancy, then, a plow share weighing 1251bs., 
the beam fourteen feet long, attached to a pair of cart 
wheels, to the tongue of which are hitched from three 
to seven yoke of oxen, turning an unbroken sod, eigh¬ 
teen to twenty-six inches wide, and sometimes a mile in 
length, and you have a picture of “ breaking prairie,” 
more true, and more interesting than some accounts of 
a “ burning prairie.” 
The sod of the prairie grass is very tough, and some¬ 
times full of the roots of a diminutive bush called “red 
root,” that are exceeding strong, and which require a 
sharp plow and strong team. A great fault, in my 
opinion, in breaking prairie, is not plowing deep enough. 
I have seen thousands of acres plowed only from two to 
three inches deep. If the season is wet, the sods will 
rot, but if dry, they become hard, and are in the way 
for years. Corn is often planted by dropping in every 
third furrow as the plowing proceeds, and singular as it 
may appear to eastern cultivators, often produces twenty 
bushels to the acre without any after culture. Oats and 
wheat are often harrowed in upon the sod, and produce 
good crops. If plowed deep, that is, five or six inches 
at first, it is best to put in the second crop without dis¬ 
turbing the sod. The necessities of the new settle 17 
should be the only excuse for breaking prairie early in 
the spring, or late in the fall ; and above all, the new 
settler should not attempt too much the first year. But 
the land is so inviting, that he often overtasks himself, 
and gets a large field in crop, but half fenced, and undue 
exertion and exposure of health brings on an attack of 
that universal malady in all new countries, the ague, 
and he is left worse off than ever any emigrant was from 
the “ aAvful effects of a burning prairie.” 
For the amusement of some of your eastern readers 
who have forgot “ auld lang syne,” I intend in my next 
to illustrate life in a log cabin. 
Respectfully, &e. 
SOLON ROBINSON. 
Lake <7. H. Ia. Dec. 15, 1839._ 
Farm Account—Balance Sheet. 
Messrs. Gaylord and Tucker —As I have leisure, I 
send you a short extract from my farm ledger. As it 
would take too much room to give a statement in full, 
of each crop raised, I will merely give you the footings 
of the accounts, with the different crops: 
Spring Wheat in 1839— 6| Acres. 
Dr.—To plowing, sowing, seed, harvesting,, threshing 
and cleaning,.. $51 50 
Cr .—By straw, $10,—90 bushels wheat, 8s. $90, 100 00 
Nett,. $48 50 
Cost in labor and seed, 46 cts. per bushel. 
Corn—3 Acres. 
Dr .-—To plowing, planting, hoeing, harvesting, seed and 
manure, $2,. $43 25 
Cr .—By 138 bushels corn, at 4s. $69—stalks 
$14,. 83 00 
Nett,. $39 75 
Cost in labor and seed, 24 cents per bushel. 
Oats—3 Acres. 
Dr.—To labor and seed,. $18 13 
Cr.—By 100 bushels oats, at 31^ cts. $31 25—• 
Straw, $3,. 34 25 
Nett,. $16 12 
Cost in labor and seed 15 cts. per bushel. 
Potatoes—5 Acres. 
Dr.—To labor $71 63—106 loads manure, Is. $13 25— 
78 bushels seed, 3s. $29 25...$114 13 
Cr .—By 915 bushels potatoes, at 25 cts. 228 75 
Nett,..$114 52 
Cost in labor in raising, and seed, exclusive of ma¬ 
nure, 8£ cts. per bushel. 
Sugar Beet and Mangel Wurzel—| Acre. 
Dr.—To labor, $10—21bs. seed, at 8s. $2,. $12 00 
Cr .—By 225 bushels roots, at 18f cts. 42 19 
Nett,. $30 19 
Cost in labor and seed per bushel, 5 3-10 cts. 
You will perceive I have charged nothing for inte¬ 
rest on the land, as it will be the same in each case ; nei¬ 
ther have I charged any manure, except where it has 
been applied directly to the crop this year; and in that 
case, I have charged only the expense of drawing, as 
my manure was all yard and stable manure of the last 
winter’s make. My oats were on poor wet land ; my 
wheat on strong land, but one half in an old orchard; 
my corn on good lam], which had borne a crop of pota¬ 
toes in 1838, and well manured ; my potatoes vvere on 
land considerably worn, and a part of it wet; and you 
Avill perceive I had a poor crop, which added to the ex¬ 
pense of raising at least one-third per bushel. My beets 
Avere on good land, heavily manured in 1838, and in that 
year bore a crop of corn. In gathering my beets, I used 
a subsoil ploAv, of the description of the one figured in 
the Genesee Farmer, and recommended by Mr. Garnett; 
and here I would recommend the inserting his commu¬ 
nication, or at least the plate, in the Cultivator,* for I 
am sure any farmer Avith 50 acres of land, will find use 
enough for it to Avell pay the cost, even if he does 
not use it as a subsoil ploAv at all, in ditching, digging 
potatoes, sugar beets, and carrots. It is an excellent 
article, but it should be made tAvice as strong as recom¬ 
mended by Mr. G., or it will not answer in clay lands, 
where it is most needed. 
If any man wishes to double the value of his colts or 
calves by next spring, let him buy some shorts, or have 
some oats ground, and feed them liberally in a warm 
place, and he will never repent the expense. A neigh¬ 
bor of mine, to whom I lent the Genesee Farmer last 
year, assured me to-day, that his six calves, to which he 
fed six dollars Avorth of shorts last winter, Avere Avorth 
$30 more last spring, than any he ever before raised; 
and that he took the hint of better feeding from the 
Farmer. And now I will ask any man, and he need 
not be very expert in figures, to calculate how long it 
will take that man to expend the money he gained by 
that one article, at one dollar per year ? I regret I can¬ 
not furnish you a list of subscribers Avith this; my only 
excuse is, I have not had one moment of time, but I in¬ 
tend to spend a day in that matter as soon as the roads 
are passable, and before I can commence heavy work 
with my team. Respectfully yours, &c. 
S. 'PORTER RHOADES. 
Skaneateles, December 30th, 1839. 
* We shall comply Avith this suggestion in a future num¬ 
ber.—E ditors. 
Management of Sheep—No. O. 
Messrs. Editors —As an important and indispensable 
feature of successful management of sheep during win¬ 
ter, I chose in my last to dwell very briefly on the ne¬ 
cessity and advantages of protection; and, also, the 
kind of shelter of which I make use. 
There are several other advantages of barns, besides 
the means they afford of shelter—if constructed accord¬ 
ing to the plan I have adopted—which can not be too 
highly appreciated. There is not a farmer in the land 
but Avhose temper has been fully tried by some sudden 
shower of rain when securing his hay, especially if 
when engaged in the process of building a stack; which, 
if it is half or two thirds completed, can not escape con¬ 
siderable injury. Now all this is entirely prevented by 
means of barns, for every load is of course secure from 
rain the moment it is under cover:—therefore, taking 
ten years together, I doubt not that the saidng from 
thjs source alone, Avould reimburse the expense of a barn, 
as described in my last, to say nothing of the large 
quantity of hay which is inevitably injured on the tops 
and surface of stacks. An honest man, and first rate 
farmer, once observed to me, “ that the man who invent¬ 
ed stacks, ought to have been gibbeted.” For my own 
part, I am not so much disposed to blame the inventor, 
as those Avho folloAV his wasteful example. Putting all 
the hay into stacks, and the rest in the barn, is wholly 
at variance with the enlightened spirit, and forward- 
march of agricultural improvement; and it is a matter 
of much regret to me that so feAV—if any—in our agri¬ 
cultural papers cry aloud for reform. It is a truth, 
that if the damaged hay of stacks of this state alone, 
for one year, could be gathered into one pile, its huge 
bulk would resemble, more than any thing else, a spur 
of the Allegany mountains. And it is this very trash 
which some farmers compel thier stock to eat, or starve, 
which causes very many of the cattle and sheep about 
the country to look as they do on the first day of May; 
not unlike those accurate representations of the alliga¬ 
tor and landpike hogs in your last No. By the way, 
those pictures Avere so like life, and the description so 
amusingly graphic, that it causes a hearty laugh when¬ 
ever I take up the Cultivator ; those Iavo portraits have 
immortalized Mr. Allen. Wont he get up something as 
accurate of some of our native cattle? 
AHoav me, my brother farmers, to recommend to you 
as soon as the hard times are over, to go to work and 
build yourselves barns, and eA r ery ounce of hay fed from 
them will be as bright and sweet as the day it Avas gather¬ 
ed. The great saving in this respect, and the greater facili¬ 
ty of securing it, will repay the expense in a short time, 
with a handsome premium besides. 
Connected with several of my barns—and I intend it 
shall be so Avith all—are yard fences, built of posts and 
boards; the boards nailed lengthwise and close, which 
is of much consequence when the sheep are feeding, by 
excluding the Avind. I Avill further add, that the fences 
on the Avest side, are on a line Avith the buildings ; this 
is mentioned as a caution to others, for if they are not 
so made, you may expect to have your yards filled with 
snow drifts ; if done as I recommend, there will be none, 
as the drifting point is generally from the northwest, the 
snoAv striking that angle of the building, glances off by 
means of the fence, and the drift is formed beyond the 
precincts of the yard. Where I am not provided Avith 
yards, use is made of “ Avind breakers,” for a descrip¬ 
tion of which I refer to my last. The yards, to be suf¬ 
ficiently capacious for 100 sheep, which is as large a 
number as any farmer should alloxv to herd together, 
should extend 40 feet in front of the south side of the 
building, and about that number of feet from, the east 
end. Aside from the benefit Avhich yards afford as a 
means of protection from high Avinds Avhen the sheep 
are feeding, is the quantity of manure which can be 
made, if properly littered with straxv during the fod¬ 
dering season. Heretofore, from some of my sheep barns, 
I haA r e carted away in the spring ovnr 40 large loads of 
manure, all of it nicely cut up and ready for turning un¬ 
der by the ploAv; the difficulty of ploAving under straAV 
as it comes from the machine, every practical farmer 
knoAvs. In a former number I asserted that protection 
Avas not only a means of saving provender, but manure ; 
Avhat is just mentioned is the proof; and if it were ne¬ 
cessary, by detailing my experience before sheltering 
my sheep, enough testimony would be adduced to en¬ 
large the proof to a demonstration. My barns stand on 
the borders of meadoAvs, and through doors about 4-§ feet 
square, the hay is stored. These doors are hung with 
strap hinges Avith hooks to fasten them when shut, and 
they are as firmly fastened when open; slam bang, fyc. 
of doors, or any thing else, belongs not to my creed. 
Immediately under doors, in size the same as aboA^e men¬ 
tioned, on the front side, is a moveable pen—say 3 feet 
in height, 5 feet in length, and the same in breadth, for 
the reception of hay Avhen thrown from the building for 
foddering. Its construction is simple, being strips of 
board nailed to 4 pieces of scantling, which should be 
so close as to prevent sheep getting their heads between 
the slats. I note this for the reason that there much 
waste of hay by throwing it on the ground, whether 
from stack or barn; for if the Aveather is moist, the 
sheep piling upon it with their dirty feet will cause more 
or less to be rejected. Aside from this, a pen will pre¬ 
vent the hay seed and dust from lodging in the wool; 
and if it be the chaff of clover hay, eA'ery experienced 
wool groAver is aAvare how difficult at washing time it 
is to eradicate it from the fleece. It is hay seed and 
chaff Avhich causes manufacturers very often to plead a 
reduction in price of fleece atooI, and with good reason. 
