1070 
ft*  RURAL.  NEW-YORKER 
August  18,  1923 
Hope  Farm  Notes 
If  you  want  to  look  at  it  with  what 
they  would  call  reason  or  common  sense 
it  was  no  place  for  a  deaf  man.  Such  a 
person  may  train  himself  to  get  on  fairly 
well  in  bright  sunshine,  but  when  dark¬ 
ness  descends  upon  him  he  is  usually 
lost.  I  remember  how  one  night  at  home, 
a  little  weary  of  reading  and  work,  I 
went  out  in  the  dark  and  wandered  along 
our  country  road — aimlessly  seeking  for 
something  which  we  all  hunt  for  at  times 
and  which  we  could  not  1‘ecognize  if  we 
found  it.  As  I  wandered  along  the  road, 
unable  to  see  even  my  old  friends,  the 
stars,  a  car  came  halting  and  bumping 
into  view.  1  stepped  one  side;  but  the 
headlights  caught  me  and  the  car  stopped. 
The  man  at  the  wheel  began  to  talk.  Of 
course  I  could  not  hear  what  he  said, 
and  so  I  came  nearer  and  finally  bent  over 
the  side  of  the  car  trying  to  explain. 
Usually  such  people  want  to  know  how 
to  reach  the  main  road,  and  I  answer  by 
pointing  north  or  south,  as  they  are 
headed,  as  the  easiest  way  of  getting 
over  it.  The  children  had  found  some 
little  badge  of  nickel — picnic  or  church 
token — and  had  pinped  it  to  my  coat,  so 
that  when  I  got  in  range  of  the  head¬ 
light  this  little  badge  might  easily  have 
been  taken  for  a  sign  of  authority.  In¬ 
stantly  that  car  seemed  alive  with  men. 
I  think  most  of  them  had  been  hiding  be¬ 
tween  the  seats.  The  driver  lost  interest 
in  any  question  he  may  have  wanted 
answered.  lie  shut  off  the  lights  and 
“stepped  on  the  gas”  and  the  car  started 
with  a  lurch — just  grazing  me  as  it 
rushed  away  with  ever-increasing  speed. 
I  conclude  that  it  was  a  company  of 
bootleggers — perhaps  out  of  their  route 
or  out  of  gas.  As  I  did  not  answer  their 
questions  and  kept  coming  on  they  saw 
my  little  badge  and  took  me  for  a  pro¬ 
hibition  officer.  (Well,  I  am  glad  they 
did  not  shoot  before  driving  off. 
***** 
I  thought  of  that  experience  as  we 
crawled  through  the  black  woods  to  the 
Indian  spring.  I  should  not  have  made 
such  a  journey,  but  I  had  a  good  guide 
and  interpreter.  You  see  I  got  into 
camp  late.  Mother  and  part  of  the  chil¬ 
dren  drove  from  New  Jersey  in  the  car, 
while  Rose  and  I  came  later  by  train.  It 
was  nine  and  after  before  we  got  out 
here,  15  miles  or  so  from  the  railroad. 
Dark  !  These  woods  are  thick  and  dim 
at  best  and  we  are  in  the  shadow  of  a 
great  hill.  Thick  clouds  obscured  the 
moon  *and  stars,  and  to  add  to  it  all  a 
thick  blinding  fog  had  crept  up  from  the 
ocean — halfway  up  Lantern  Ilill — cover¬ 
ing  us  like  a  blanket.  I  imagine  it  was 
just  about  such  a  night  when  General 
John  Mason  with  his  little  band  of  white 
men  came  stealing  through  the  fog  to 
fall  upon  the  Pequot  Indians — not  far 
from  where  we  groped  our  way  through 
the  dark.  If  the  spirits  of  the  dead  come 
back  to  haunt  the  scene  of  their  earthly 
struggles  these  woods  must  ffixve  been  peo¬ 
pled  with  Indian  ghosts  as  we  went  our 
way.  For  hardly  had  1  settled  down  after 
my  journey  when  Mother  exclaimed :  “I 
wish  I  had  a  drink  from  the  Indian 
No  doubt  some  of  you  have  read  Mil¬ 
ler’s  poem  of  the  Mexican  in  Southern 
Texas  who  was  “dared”  by  the  young 
woman  to  ride  into  the  Staked  Plains  and 
bring  her  a  drink  of  water  from  the  magic 
spring  in  that  ill-fated  land.  It  was  a 
1(]0  to  1  chance  with  ’death,  but  the 
young  man  started.  He  found  the  spring, 
but  never  came  back  with  the  water.  Of 
course  Mother  and  I  are  long  past  the 
age  where  there  would  be  any  “dares” 
about  such  a  trip,  but  if  spring  water  is 
needed  and  the  night  is  dark  why  I  would 
probably  hear  less  of  the  noise  which  in¬ 
spires  fear  than  any  other  member  of 
the  household.  So  I  took  the  bucket  and 
started  off  with  one  of  the  girls  to  do  the 
listening  if  it  were  needed.  We  had  no 
lantern,  but  the  girl  carried  a  box  of 
matches,  and  by  striking  one  now  and 
then  we  made  our  way  along  the  road. 
Back  in  the  stone  age  our  original  an¬ 
cestors  would  pei’haps  have  carried  a 
gourd  or  a  cow’s  horn  scraped  thin  and 
with  glow  worms  inside !  The  first  trou¬ 
ble  was  to  find  the  path  which  leads  off 
from  the  road.  Finally  I  felt  that  we 
were  stepping  on  sand  and  I  remembered 
the  light  soil  near  the  path.  A  match 
showed  us  the  little  opening  through  the 
trees,  and  we  crept  oh  through  the  dark. 
What  a  place  this  would  have  been  for  an 
ambush  say  250  years  ago.  On  the  whole 
I  wish  one  of  these  old  Pequots  could 
have  started  out  of  the  shadows.  I  would 
like  to  interview  him  and  get  his  opinion 
about  automobiles,  telephones,  radio 
and  many  other  modern  wonders.  I  im¬ 
agine  his  views  would  be  much  like  ours 
if  250  year's  hence,  we  could  come  back 
to  earth  and  could  give  expression  to  our 
wonder  at  what  human  beings  will  be 
doing  in  the  year  2273 !  But  “there 
needs  no  ghost  to  come  from  the  grave  to 
tell  us  that !”  Only  the  thick,  foggy 
blackness  and  a  silence  so  dense  that  you 
can  hardly  imagine  it — as  we  felt  our 
way  along  the  path.  The  spring  is  at  one 
side  of  the  path — down  a  little  hill  under 
a  tree  and  we  might  easily  pass  it  by,  as 
we  had  not  seen  it  for  a  yeai\  You  may 
not  believe  it,  but  the  blind  and  the  deaf 
have  some  sort  of  instinct  or  extra  sense 
which  helps  them  at  such  times.  There 
iu  the  dark  I  seemed  to  know  the  spring 
was  close  by,  and  we  turned  to  the  right. 
The  girl  struck  a  match  and  there  we 
were  just  at  the  stone  whei'e  the  water 
runs  out.  I  dipped  my  bucket  in  and 
then  back  we  crawled  through  the  dark 
to  camp.  If  the  Mexican  in  the  poem 
had  come  back  from  the  magic  spring 
alive  the  lady  might  have  tasted  the  wa¬ 
ter  and  said  :  “It  may  do  to  bathe  in  !” 
As  it  was  our  practical  lady  took  a  slow 
agreeable  drink  and  remarked :  “I  think 
we  will  be  safer  to  boil  this  water.” 
*  *  *  *  * 
But  this  journey  through  the  dark  was 
not  our  first  introduction  to  camp.  We  have 
come  back  to  the  same  lonely  place  in 
Eastern  Connecticut  where  we  camped 
last  year.  The  Indian  reservation,-  the 
beautiful  little  lake,  the  rocky  hills  and 
the  great  billowy  sweep  of  the  woods 
off  to  the  north  and  west  are  the  same. 
And  we  are  having  the  same  lazy,  happy 
life  in  sunshine.  On  August  3  we  were 
late  in  starting  our  idle  day.  After  break- 
last  I  sat  out  on  the  little  porch  over  the 
lake  with  my  book.  I  am  reading  A.  B. 
Farquhar’s  “The  First  Million  the  Hard¬ 
est,”  and  had  come  to  the  description  of 
President  Garfield’s  death  and  the  ora¬ 
tion  delivered  by  James  G.  Blaine,  when 
the  girl  who  led  me  through  the  woods 
to  the  spring  came  out. 
*  Come  on,  ’  she  said,  “let  me  row  you 
down  the  lake.  I’m  going  after  milk.” 
lSe  we  started  through  the  clear  sun¬ 
shine — but  somehow  I  could  not  get  that 
last  sentence  of  Blaine’s  oration  out  of 
mind.  That  journey  through  the  dark 
to  the  spring  came  Rack  in  detail.  To 
youth  it  was  a  mere  adventure — to  me 
it  seemed  somehow  typical  of  the  last 
mysterious  journey  we  all  must  make — 
groping  through  the  dark,  seeking  for 
the  happy,  healing  waters  of  the  eternal 
spring.  Some  sort  of  solemn  exultation 
came  to  me  as  we  moved  slowly  down  the 
shining  lake.  It  was  not  a  feeling  of 
depression,  but  somehow  I  expected  to 
hear  something  of  wonderful  import. 
While  it  was  about  the  last  thing  I  ex¬ 
pected  I  was  not  surprised  when  the  girl 
came  running  out  of  the  farmhouse  to  tell 
Jne : 
“ President  Harding  is  dead!” 
All  I  could  think  of  was — “he  has  made 
his  journey  through  the  dark — and  found 
the  spring. 
*  *  *  *  * 
It  is  not  for  me  to  write  any  eulogy  of 
our  dead  President.  That  may  best  be 
done  by  those  who  knew  him  personally, 
and  it  will  be  well  done  I  never  saw 
him.  At  the  Plymouth  celebration  two 
years  ago  the  great  parade  stopped  for 
a  moment  so  that  Mrs.  Harding  sat  in 
her  car  within  a  few  feet  of  our  folks. 
It  has  ever  been  a  proud  thought  for 
Mother  and  her  daughter  that  they  voted 
for  the  Hardings.  For  somehow  you 
cannot  separate  them  in  thought.  They 
were  plain,  kindly  “home  folks”— just 
about  like  all  the  rest  of  us.  Some 
sneering  critic  once  said  the  Hardings 
came  from  “Main  Street,”  but  that’s 
where  most  of  us  naii  from — eit  ier  that 
or  the  Halifax  road.  All  througu  the 
President’s  struggles,  and  he  had  them 
like  the  rest  of  us,  Mrs.  Harding  has 
been  at  his  side,  firm  and  strong  and 
true.  Even  at  the  last  she  sat  by  his 
bedside  reading  to  him.  I  find  that  up 
here  among  the  hills  the  grief  is  not  so 
much  for  the  President  as  for  the  man, 
because  he  seemed  “much  like  the  rest 
of  us.”  And  so  I  make  no  attempt  to 
write  any  eulogy  or  life  stox-y  of  our 
dead  President.  Here  in  this  loxiely  place 
we  think  of  him  as  a  kindly,  tender,  plain 
man.  who  did  his  duty  as  he  saw  it,  who 
loved  liis  country  and  desired  the  best 
for  his  fellow  man.  Whenever  I  thunk 
of  him  my  mind  will  somehow  go  back 
to  my  search  through  the  dark  to  the 
Indian  spring.  For  somehow  I  feel  that 
he,  suddenly  thrust  out  into  the  dark, 
unknown  counti’y,  has  hopefully  made  his 
way  to  the  great  source  of  all  life  and 
power.  And  I  take  up  my  book  and 
read  nnee  more  Blaine’s  great  prophetic 
hope  for  Garfield : 
“ Let  us  believe  that  his  dying  eyes 
read  a  mystic  meaning  which  only  the 
rapt  and  parting  soul  may  know.  Let 
us  hope  that  in  the  silence  of  a  re¬ 
ceding  ivorld  he  heard  the  great  waves 
breaking  on  a  farther  shore,  and  felt 
already  u/wn  his  wasted  brow  the  breath 
of  the  eternal  morning.  H.  w.  c. 
Late  Use  of  Nitrate  of  Soda 
Will  you  advise  me  regaining  the  use 
of  nitrate  of  soda  on  coi'n  at  the  last  cul¬ 
tivation?  7  have  heard  that  its  use  very 
much  improved  the  yield  of  the  corn. 
How  should  I  use  it,  and  how  much  per 
acre?  I  use  nitrate  of  soda  on  grass  in 
the  Spring,  and  find  it  beneficial.  I 
usually  use  125  to  150  lbs.  per  acre,  and 
use  16  per  cent  acid  phosphate  as  a  filler. 
Airedale,  Md.  H.  K.  p. 
We  never  before  had  so  many  questions 
about  the  use  of  nitrate  of  soda  late  in 
the  season.  Many  of  our  readers  are  ask¬ 
ing  if  they  should  use  nitrate  on  corn 
at  the  last  cultivation.  They  do  not  seem 
to  understand  the  exact  nature  of  niti-ate. 
They  have  had  very  good  results  from 
its  use  when  put  o.n  gross  or  grain  in  the 
Spring.  They  say  it  caused  a  rich  green 
growth,  and  they  reason  that  if  they  use 
it  on  corn  at  the  last  cultivation  they 
can  greatly  increase  the  yield.  Now,  the 
ntirate  contains  only  one  element  that 
would  bmxfit  the  corn.  That  is  nitrogen 
in  the  mnsr  available  foim.  It  will  in¬ 
crease  the  growth  of  the  stalk,  make  a 
larger  size,  and  dark  green  color,  but  it 
would  not  have  much  effect  in  increasing 
the  yield  of  grain.  In  fact,  the  nitrate 
applied  at  the  last  cultivation  would  be 
likely  to  delay  ripening  by  stimulating 
the  growth  of  the  plant.  This  is  not 
the  best  time  to  apply  niti-ate.  That 
available  fertilizer  should  be  used  if  pos¬ 
sible  earlier  in  the  season,  so  as  to  de¬ 
velop  a  quick  heavy  growth  while  the 
plant  is  young.  Acid  phosphate  and  mu¬ 
riate  of  potash  will  give  better  satisfac¬ 
tion  at  the  last  cultivation,  because  these 
chemicals  will  have  more  effect  in  stimu¬ 
lating  the  development  of  seed  and  ear. 
A  small  quantity  of  nitrate  applied  with 
these  other  chemicals  at  the  last  cultiva¬ 
tion  might  help  by  increasing  the  size  of 
the  stalk,  but  if  it  is  desired  to  increase 
the  grain  yield  the  nitrate  alone  will  not 
give  best  results. 
Sweet  Clover  in  South  Dakota 
Here  we  sow  it  in  the  Spring  with  bar¬ 
ley,  as  a  rule,  as  the  barley  can  be  cut 
earlier,  giving  the  Sweet  clover  more  of  a 
chance  to  grow.  If  sown  quite  early  it 
will  make  growth  of  18  in.  or  more  the 
first  year.  The  second  year  nothing  can 
be  sown  in  it  with  profit,  because  of  its 
great  growth.  Sometimes  Sweet  clover 
is  sown  in  the  Fall  with  rye,  as  my  neigh¬ 
bor  did  last  Fall,  and  he  said  that  his  rye 
bundles  were  green  at  the  bottom  from 
clover.  Of  course  it  did  not  start  grow¬ 
ing  until  early  Spring.  Frost  will  not 
hurt  Sweet  clover  in  the  Spring,  no  mat¬ 
ter  how  early,  just  so  it  is  not  sown  too 
deep.  Sow  about  10  or  12  lbs.  per  acre ; 
better,  a  little  more  if  broadcast.  We 
sometimes  inoculate  either  soil  or  the 
seed. 
'We  are  trying  a  piece  of  Hubam  or  an¬ 
nual  Sweet  clover.  It  makes  quite  lai-ge 
growth  the  first  yeai-,  and  grows  faster 
than  the  common  kind,  first  Summer,  so 
if  the  Ilubam  did  not  crowd  the  grain 
too  much  the  fii*st  year  there  would  be 
more  either  to  pasture,  cut  for  hay  or 
plow  uudei-.  I  sowed  10  lbs.  of  Hubam 
a  year  ago  this  last  Spring.  Last  Fall  I 
tried  to  get  some  seed,  but  left  most  on 
the  ground  ,and  this  year  it  is  waist  high 
and  thick.  Here  in  Dakota  we  use  Sweet 
clover  for  everything,  as  it  is  the  only 
clover  we  can  grow  without  irrigation. 
The  common,  or  biennial,  as  far  as  we 
know,  serve  the  most  purposes,  and  can 
be  plowed  under  before  late  Oetobei',  real 
cold  weathei-,  the  first  year,  or  late  iu  the 
Spring,  for  corn  or  later  crops  the  sec¬ 
ond,  as  it  will  be  a  big  growth  June  1. 
South  Dakota.  r.  h.  t. 
The  best  result  with  Sweet  clover  is 
to  sow  it  with  wheat,  then  let  it  grow 
one  year  and  plow  under  when  it  begins 
to  bloom,  which,  out  here,  is  in  June, 
and  sometimes  the  first  part  of  July;  de 
pends,  of  course,  on  how  warm  and  wet 
Spring  we  have.  It  is  used  here  quite  a 
little  for  hay  ;  makes  veiy  good  hay,  and 
splendid  pasture,  for  sheep  especially,  as 
they  will  keep  it  down.  If  let  grow  it 
gets  quite  large  and  coarse.  It  is  easy  to 
grow.  I  would  not  advise  plowing  it  un¬ 
der  the  first  year,  as  thei-e  would  hardly 
be  enough  to  do  any  good,  and  as  it  does 
not  produce  a  good  second  crop  after  be¬ 
ing  cut,  it  should  be  plowed  under  as 
stated  above.  p.  j.  erie. 
South  Dakota. 
WANT  TO  KNOW 
Evicting  Squirrels 
Can  you  tell  me  how  to  rid  a  house  of 
both  flying  and  red  squirrels?  They  have 
got  between  floors  and  partitions ;  and 
not  only  disturb  the  household  at  night, 
but  discolor  ceilings.  Any  information 
would  be  gladfuUy  received,  mrs.  p.  s. 
Ridgewood,  N.  J. 
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HOPE  FARM  NOTES 
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