NUMBER ONE.
History chronicles no improvement in the horse made by the agency of man. The horses of the days of Pharaoh, or of Homer, have their superiors in no part of the civilized world to-day. The Arabs have for ages been noted for the excellence of their horses, but that excellence was not created, nor has it been increased by the arts of man. Since the time of Cromwell the horses of England have steadily degenerated. Those most conversant with the matter say that this degeneracy has been the most marked and rapid during the last fifty years. The horses of this country lack the value of their ancestors of the Revolutionary period. Nowhere, or at no time, can man boast of improving the horse by the arts of breeding. What is the reason of this?
The horse, the ox, the hog, and the sheep comprise the four great classes of domesticated farm animals. In certain directions man has improved these three last. These improvements have made them more valuable. The ox has been bred to make more flesh from the same amount of food, and to lay on fat at an earlier age; the cow has been bred to give instead of a supply of milk barely large enough to sustain her young, a bountiful yield, and of a richer quality; the hog has been bred into a veritable machine to convert food into pork; the sheep has been bred to yield more wool, and of a finer texture, and to make more mutton. All these changes have been beneficial because the value of the animal lay in its production of beef, milk, pork, wool, or mutton, as the case might be. It is true that these changes have been accomplished at the expense of vigor and endurance. These two qualities are important in the hog, ox, or sheep, but those that have been developed so far overshadow their lessening that on the whole we can say that the arts of man have improved our kine, swine, and sheep.
But it is not so with the horse. Its value does not depend upon the quantity and quality of its flesh, milk, or bodily covering. Unlike the others its value depends upon the work it can do. Hence vigor and endurance are the prime essentials of a good horse. But as man has lessened the vigor and endurance of the hog, ox, and sheep, so he has of the horse. This is the invariable result of human art. Whenever man tampers with the work of nature he is certain to lessen bodily vigor. It could not be otherwise. For the course of nature, undisturbed and undeflected, is always towards the greatest health. Man changes the course of nature and the result is lessened vigor and endurance.
Man has improved some qualities of the horse. He has increased its speed, perhaps, but only for short distances. Our race horses of to-day would make a sorry record with those of days no longer past than those of the "pony express," to say nothing of the couriers of centuries ago, because they have been made to deteriorate in vigor and endurance. We have ponderous, heavy horses to-day; but they can not do as much work before the plow or dray as those of the eighteenth century. We can not point anywhere to horses produced by breeding that are the equals of the horses of the days of chivalry. They lack not only in vigor and hardihood, but in intelligence. As the perfect symmetry of development by the course of nature has been destroyed by man the intelligence of the animal lessened. Whenever the hand of man has touched his equine friend it has been only to mar.
This decrease in the excellence of the horse can not be shifted from man to time. One instance alone demonstrates the unfairness of this. The Andalusians are now mere ponies, yet they are the descendants of those noble beasts ridden to victory by the Spanish chivalry in the days when the valor of the horse was as important as the valor of the knightly rider. Taken from their hills and valleys to serve in the haunts of men, and to be subjected to the arts of breeding, they have sadly degenerated. But the horses of the Spanish explorers of both North and South America escaped, and to-day the descendants of these same Spanish horses are, under the nurture of nature and nature's ways, the superb wild horses of the new world. They are the work of nature; the Andalusian ponies are the work of man's art.
As this degeneracy is the necessary co-existent of man's breeding, so far as it is produced by this cause it can not be escaped. But a good part of the evil is not the necessary sequence of breeding per se. It is also attributable to errors in treatment so palpable and easy of correction that it behooves us to note and avoid them. In my next I shall briefly mention a few of the most important of these.
Breeder and Sportsman: The old story of the countryman and his deceptive plug was recently repeated in Jersey, where people are supposed to have their eye-teeth cut. It was an old gray pacer this time, attached to a dilapidated wagon by cords and odd ends of harness. The astute hotel proprietor refused to give $20 for the outfit. Owner then replied that he would pace the horse over a good track in three minutes. Landlord bets $100 to $50 that he can't do it. Money was then put up, and owner wanted to draw, as the track was a good way off, and he could not spare the time to attend to the matter. Landlord insisted that the horse must pace or pay forfeit. A sulky and harness were borrowed, and judge placed in the stand, according to Hoyle. Owner claims the right to three trials, according to National Association rules. Point conceded. Old crowbait is scored up and given the word. Works off the mile very slick in 2:43. Landlord feels small, and $100 goes into owner's pocket. Another greenhorn bets $100 that horse can't beat 2:43. Rips off another mile 2:42, and owner pockets the money. Landlord feels better; owner better yet. Latest advices: same old side-wheeler won two or three hundred same way at Flemington, some more at Paterson, and has had a little pacing circuit all to himself. "What fools these mortals be!"
The following by Richard White in the New York Sun, might very properly have been dedicated to those trichinæ-frightened twins, Bismarck and Paul Bert.
Sing, heavenly muse, the noble quadruped,
Whom Orientals oft presume to scorn,
Who glorifies the food that he is fed,
Extracting carbon from convenient corn.
Peaceful his life, his death almost sublime,
His end a grand effect of modern art;
Scarce has he bid a sharp adieu to time,
When he is packed and ready for the mart.
He goes abroad, our land to represent;
The earth, from pole to tropic, is his range;
He fills the bill for use and ornament,
Greases the world, and regulates exchange.
Though ministers abroad may lightly treat
The rights that only appertain to men,
They must protect our Western corn-fed meat,
Defending our four-footed citizen.
If Bismarck bars our barrels, tubs, or cans,
Forcing our pork to make its way incog,
Upset his schemes, and overthrow his plans,
And clear a pathway for the native hog.
Dr. Detmers, V.S., stationed at the Union Stock Yards at Chicago, by the Department of Agriculture for the purpose of inspecting swine, alleges that during the last four months he has examined at one packing-house not less than four thousand hogs and has seen at least ten times that number, but has not seen the slightest trace of disease, as he certainly should if any had existed. During the last two years but very little swine plague has prevailed anywhere, and, as far as he knows, no diseased hogs have been shipped; nearly if not all the small rendering tanks having been closed.
M. Pasteur, the eminent French scientist, says epizootic hog-cholera, even of the most virulent type, can be prevented by inocculation with the attenuated virulent virus. He also says it is proven that the period of immunity is more than a year; that, consequently, this is long enough for the requirements of hog-raising, since the period of fattening does not generally exceed a year. Yet, in spite of these happy results, I repeat that the question of the use of vaccination for different breeds needs new investigation, so that the vaccination of swine may be made general.
Dairymen, Write for Your Paper.
Winter Feed for Cows.
The increasing demand for milk in our cities and villages, and for gilt-edged butter during the winter season, is leading some of our most intelligent farmers to study more carefully the problem of winter dairying. "It costs more to make butter in winter than in summer," says the American Agriculturalist, "but if a select class of customers in cities or elsewhere, are willing to pay for the increased cost of producing it fresh in zero weather, then there is no good reason why they should not be gratified. Its feasibility is already established on a small scale, and there seems to be no discernible limit to the demand for a first-class article during the six months when the pastures are barren. The farmer who has the capital can readily provide a barn that will make his cows nearly as comfortable and healthy in winter as in summer, and shelter all the food they need to keep up a constant flow of rich milk. We have not attained, perhaps, all the information necessary to secure the best rations for winter milking, yet we are approximating toward that knowledge. Some think they have found in ensilage the one thing needful. Yet, some of the parties dealing in gilt-edge butter begin to complain of that made from rations consisting largely of ensilage. We shall probably have to put down early cut hay with the flavor of June grass in it as an essential part of the winter rations for first-class butter. We doubt if the bouquet of the June made article can be found elsewhere. Another ration will be Indian meal, our great national cereal, which is abundant and cheap and likely to continue so. Then we want green, succulent food with the dry fodder to sharpen the appetite and help the digestion. This suggests roots as another ration. We have carrots, mangolds and sugar beets; all easily raised, and cheaply stored in barn cellars or pits. And from our own experience in using them during several winters in connection with dry feed, we judge them to be a safe ration in butter-making. Cabbage also is available, and in districts remote from large markets, might be grown for this purpose. Near cities it is probably worth more for human food than for fodder. The whole subject is yet in the tentative state, and all are looking for further light!"
Churning Temperature.
A correspondent of the New England Homestead found difficulty in making the butter "come" from cream raised in the Cooley Creamer. In a later issue several correspondents tried to help her through the difficulty. One said:
First of all be sure your cream is ready to come before you churn it. If you have no floating thermometer, please get one right away. Deep set cream needs not only to be ripened, but the temperature must be right—not less than 62 degrees, and 65 degrees is better. Don't guess at it, but be sure. Mix each skimming with the others thoroughly, and keep the cream pail in a warm place at all times.
Another said: Keep the cream at 60 degrees to 65 degrees all the time before it goes into the churn. Take care to thoroughly mix the different skimmings. Sometimes in cold weather the butter will nearly come, and then hold on without any advance. In such cases, put into a thirty-quart churning, half a cupful of salt and four quarts of water heated to 55 degrees; it will cut the butter from the buttermilk in five minutes. My butter sells for fifty cents a pound and this is the way I manage.
Another: Sour your cream before churning and have it as near 62 degrees as you can, and you will have no trouble. The first fall we had the Cooley we had one churning that would not come into butter. I found it was perfectly sweet. Since then I have been particular to have it ripe and have had no trouble.
Seas of Milk.
A newspaper correspondent contributes the following which is of course made up of a mixture of facts and guesses. But as it is somewhere near the truth, as a general thing, we do as all the rest of the papers are doing, print it.
"There are nearly $2,000,250,000 invested in the dairying business in this country," said an officer of the Erie Milk Producers' Association yesterday. "That amount is almost double the money invested in banking and commercial industries, it is estimated that it requires 15,000,000 cows to supply the demand for milk and its products in the United States. To feed these cows 60,000,000 acres of land are under cultivation. The agricultural and dairy machinery and implements in use are worth over $200,000,000. The men employed in the business number 700,000 and the horses nearly 1,000,000. The cows and horses consume annually 30,000,000 tons of hay, nearly 90,000,000 bushels of corn meal, about the same amount of oat-meal, 275,000,000 bushels of oats, 2,000,000 bushels of bran, and 30,000,000 bushels of corn, to say nothing of the brewery grains and questionable feed of various kinds that is used to a great extent. It costs $400,000,000 to feed these cows and horses. The average price paid to the laborers necessary in the dairy business is probably $20 a month, amounting to $168,000,000 a year.
"The average cow yields about 450 gallons of milk a year, giving a total product of 6,750,000,000 gallons. Twelve cents a gallon is a fair price to estimate the value of this milk at, a total return to the dairy farmer of $810,000,000. Fifty per cent of the milk is made into cheese and butter. It takes twenty-seven pounds of milk to make one pound of butter, and about ten pounds of milk to make one pound of cheese. There is the same amount of nutrition in three and one half pounds of milk that there is in one pound of beef. A fat steer furnishes fifty per cent of boneless beef, but it would require about 24,000,000 steers, weighing 1,500 pounds each, to produce the same amount of nutrition as the annual milk product does."
About Soundness.
It may be supposed that the hackneyed term "sound" is so explicit as to need no comment,—and most people conceive it to be so; but the term "sound" really admits of as much contrariety of opinion as the word "tipsy;" one man considers another so if, at ten at night, he is not precisely as cool and collected as he was at one in the day. Another one calls a man so when he lies on the floor and holds himself on by the carpet. So,—as to soundness, some persons can not see that a horse is unsound, unless he works his flanks like the drone of a bagpipe, or blows and roars like a blacksmith's bellows; while some are so fastidious as to consider a horse as next to valueless because he may have a corn that he never feels, or a thrush for which he is not, nor likely to be, one dollar the worse.
So far as relates to such hypercritical deciders on soundness, we will venture to say that, if they brought us twenty reported horses in succession, we would find something in all of those produced that would induce such persons to reject them, though, perhaps, not one among the lot had anything about him of material consequence. To say the least, we will venture to assert that nine-tenths of the horses now in daily use are more or less unsound. We make no reservation as to the description of horse, his occupation, or what he may be worth. We scarcely ever had, indeed scarcely ever knew, a horse that had been used, and tried sufficiently to prove him a good one, that was in every particular unequivocally sound. We have no doubt that there are thousands of owners of horses who will at once say we are wrong in this assertion, and would be ready to produce their own horses as undeniable proofs, whereby to back their opinion and refute ours. They may, perhaps, say that their horses are never lame—perhaps not; that is, not lame in their estimation or to their eye; but we daily see horses that go to a certain degree indubitably lame, while their owners conceive them to be as indubitably sound. These horses, perhaps, all do their work perfectly well, are held as sound by owners, servants, acquaintances, and casual observers; but a practical eye would detect an inequality in their going, as a watchmaker would do the same in the movement of a watch, though we might look for a week, or listen for the same length of time, without being able to either see or hear the variation. The watch might, however, on the average keep fair time; but it would not be a perfect one; and what matters, if it answers all the purposes for which we want it? A really bad watch that can not keep time is a different affair;—it is pretty much the same with a horse. If the unsoundness is such as to render him unable to do his work, or even to do it unpleasantly to himself or owner, or if it is likely to bring him to this, our advice is to have nothing to do with him. If, however, this is not the case, or likely to be so,—if you like him—buy him.
It is not improbable that a man may say, I begin to believe that few horses that have done work are quite sound; but a sound one I will have; I will, therefore, buy a four-year old, that has never done a day's work. We will acknowledge that if he does so, he may probably get his desideratum; but do not let him make too sure of this. There are such things as four-year olds, unsound, as well as worked. But, supposing him to have got this sound animal; what has he got? An animal that he has to run the risk of making useful, so far as teaching him his business goes; and by the time this is effectually done, and the colt has arrived at a serviceable age, he will probably be quite as unsound as many of those he has rejected; independent of which, and supposing him to continue sound, the breeder of this horse must have better luck or better judgment in breeding than his neighbors, if more than one in five or six that he does breed turn out desirable horses in every respect. If he turns out but a middling sort of beast, it is but small satisfaction to know that he is sound; in fact, so little satisfaction should we feel, that, if we were compelled to keep and use him, so far from rejoicing that he was sound, we should only regret that he was not dead.
In relations to the doings of dealers in horses, it is not our present object to expose the tricks of the trade, or to prejudice the unsophisticated buyer against all horse dealers. There are honest horse dealers, and there are dishonest ones; and we are sorry to say that, in numbers, the latter predominate; that honesty in horse dealing is not proverbial. But horse dealers, like other mortals, are apt to err in judgment; and all their acts should not be set down as willful wrong-doings. However, be their acts what they may, the general verdict is against their motives. Therefore, supposing we could bring any person or number of persons to believe the fact that a man conversant with horses might sell, as a sound horse, one that might, on proper inspection, be returned as unsound, all that we could say or write, would never convince the majority of persons that a dealer could innocently do the same thing. If his judgment errs, and leads him into error as to the soundness of his horse, it is set down, not as willful or corrupt perjury as to oath, but most undoubtedly as to his word and honesty.
Questions Answered.
Glanders, Chronic Catarrh, and "Horse Distemper."—H.P.W., Peotone, Ill.—Query—What are the symptoms whereby a person may know the difference between glanders, catarrh, and ordinary horse distemper?
Reply—Among the prominent symptoms of glanders may be mentioned a discharge of purulent matter from one or both nostrils; one or both glands on the inside of the lower jaw bones are more or less swollen, hard and knotty. One or both nostrils are sometimes swollen and glued up by a sticky, unhealthy looking pus, sometimes streaked with blood. On opening the nostrils, pustules and ulcers are seen on the inner surface. The nose may sometimes bleed. The eyes are often prominent and watery; the coat rough and staring if the horse is in lean condition; and the voice more or less hoarse. The appetite is not often impaired. Sooner or later, farcy buds may appear on the head, neck, body or limbs, generally along the inner side of the thighs. In chronic nasal catarrh or so-called gleet, the glands between the jaw bones are very slightly, if at all, enlarged; they are loose, not hard and knotty, as in glanders. This ailment, which is apt to persist for months, unless properly treated, may leave an animal in an unthrifty state, with a staring coat, disturbed appetite, dullness at work, cough and discharge from one or both nostrils; but there are no pustules or ragged sores or ulcers within the nose, as in glanders. Chronic nasal gleet, however, is apt to run into glanders; and, as there is no telling when the beginning is, such a horse, with chronic discharge from the nose, should always be looked upon with suspicion, and be kept away from other horses. The difference between glanders and influenza or ordinary horse distemper, is so marked that a mistake is not easily made. The more prominent symptoms of distemper are as follows: With signs more or less prominent of a general febrile condition, there is great dullness and debility, frequent and weak pulse, scanty discharge of high-colored urine, costiveness, loss of appetite, and a yellow appearance of the membranes of the mouth and the eyes. The eyes appear more or less sunken, upper lid drooping and lips hanging, giving the animal a sleepy look; there is cough, soreness of the throat, and labored breathing; the mouth is filled with frothy slime, the legs are cold and sometimes more or less swollen below the knees and hocks. In the advanced stages of distemper, there is a free discharge from both nostrils.
Brittle Hoofs.—I.F.C., Camden, Ill. If the animal is shod, the shoes should be removed and reset at least once a month, to allow the feet to be properly pared and trimmed. If habitually brittle, it will be proper to keep such feet off from much moisture, and instead provide dry floor of whatever kind. Once or twice a week such feet should be given an ample coat of some simple hoof ointment, such as equal parts of tar, tallow and beeswax, carefully melted together, and stirred till cold.
Lung Disease in Swine.—A.J.T., Emery, Ill. Most internal diseases of swine, especially inflammation of the lungs, which is often given the wrong name of thumps, are very intractable and apt to prove fatal when occurring during the winter months. Prevention is the sheet anchor for these troubles, and it must be a poor farmer indeed who can not manage to provide clean, comfortable and dry housing for his live stock during this season, or who can not comprehend that such is necessary for the well-doing of animals as well as of himself. Any animal, even a hog, will of course suffer more, or less severely when constantly exposed to chilly winds, draft of cold air, wet ground and damp surroundings, icy or frozen drink or food, etc.
Blindness After Lockjaw.—M.J.G., Los Angeles, Cal. Let the animal go loose in a comfortable, roomy, well-bedded shed, from which strong light is excluded. Apply, once daily, to the hollow space above the orbit of the eyes, a small portion of fluid extract of belladonna. Give food which does not require much hard chewing.
REMEMBER that $2.00 pays for The Prairie Farmer from this date to January 1, 1885; For $2.00 you get it for one year and a copy of The Prairie Farmer County Map of the United States, free! This is the most liberal offer ever made by any first-class weekly agricultural paper in this country.
Horticulturists, Write for Your Paper.
The Hedge Question.
At one of the December meetings of the Massachusetts Horticultural Society a prize essay from the pen of John J. Thomas, of Union Springs, N.Y., was read on the subject "Hedge Plants and Hedges."
The subject of the essay was proposed in the form of a question, "Are live hedges to be recommended either for utility or ornament, and if they are, what plants are most suitable?" The answer to this question was given from the experiments of the essayist during the last forty years. The deciduous plants tried were the buckthorn, Osage orange, honey-locust, privet and barberry. The evergreens were the Norway spruce, hemlock, and American arbor-vitæ.
The buckthorn has the advantage of great hardiness, thick growth, and easy propagating and transplanting, and requires but a moderate amount of cutting back. But the growth is not stout enough to resist unruly animals, unless in very rich soils, and even a moderate amount of cutting back is an objection to farmers.
The cost of buckthorn hedges, including the preparation of a strip of soil five feet wide, purchase of plants, setting, and occasional horse cultivation on each side, was about twenty-five cents a rod the first year. The yearly cultivation and cutting back, until the hedge had reached full size, was three or four cents a rod. Though the buckthorn has nearly passed out of use on account of its inefficiency, it is not impossible that it may be extensively planted when cultivators find that it may be converted into an efficient barrier by inclosing two or three barbed wires extending its length through the interior—these wires, supported on occasional posts, being successively placed in position as the hedge increases in height, the branches growing around the wires and holding them immovably in position. Galvanized wire should be always used, on account of its durability.
Osage orange hedges require more care than buckthorn, in assorting plants of equal size and vigor, and the rejection of feeble plants. Like all other hedge plants, they should be set in a single line, and eight inches apart is a suitable distance. For the first few years the ground must be kept well cultivated. It is partly tender and will not endure the winters at the North, unless on a well-drained soil. Hence the importance of placing a good tile drain parallel to the hedge and within a few feet of it. Thus protected, good hedges have stood for twenty-five years where the thermometer has often shown ten or twelve degrees below zero, and sometimes lower.
No hedge is more commonly mismanaged than the Osage orange. It is planted in imperfectly prepared ground; vigorous and feeble plants are planted indiscriminately, cultivation and pruning are omitted or not done thoroughly, resulting in broken and irregular lines. When more care is given, the hedge is nearly spoiled by being pruned too wide at the top, the heavy shade above causing meagre growth and openings below. It should be pruned in wedge shape, but shearing is objectionable as causing a thick and short growth of leaves at the exterior, excluding light from the inside and causing bare branches there. Cutting back more irregularly with a knife allows the growth of interior foliage, and gives more breadth to the hedge. The sheared hedge presents an unnatural stiffness in ornamental grounds; but skillfully cut back with the knife it has more of the beauty of natural form. The manner of pruning is very important, both as regards utility and beauty. For farm barriers hedges do not require so elaborate care. Another mode of treatment has been adopted in the Western States. The trees are trimmed and the main stems trained upright for a few years. They are then cut half off at the ground and bent over at an angle of thirty degrees with the ground, a tree being left upright at distances of four or five feet, and the inclined ones interwoven among them, a straight line of trees being thus formed. The tops are then cut off about three feet high. New shoots spring up in abundance and form an impenetrable growth, as many as fifty having been counted from a single plant the first year. The top is cut to within a few inches each year of its previous height. Hedges made in this way have no gaps.
A similar treatment may be adopted when a hedge becomes too high by long years of growth. The trees are first partly trimmed with a light axe or hook with a long handle, and then half cut off at the ground and bent over. A new growth will spring up and form a new hedge. This course was adopted by the essayist with a hedge planted twenty-eight years ago, and which has been a perfect farm barrier for more than twenty years. The cost of this hedge was about twenty-five cents a rod the first year, and the three subsequent cuttings for sixty rods cost about twenty dollars, averaging less than a dollar a year. But it was usually too tall and shaded, and occupied too much ground, to be recommended where land is valuable.
Ninety rods of Osage orange hedge, properly trimmed, cost about the same for the first four years of cultivation, but more for annual cutting back. It was planted twenty-four years ago, and has been a perfect barrier for about twenty years. The yearly cost of pruning was about four cents a rod for ten or twelve years, and since it has become larger and higher nearly double. For cutting back a stout hook with a handle two and a-half feet long or a stout scythe was used. Hedge shears are too slow except for ornamental hedges, and even for these the knife is preferable.
The Honey locust has been extensively used for hedges of late years on account of its hardiness. Seed should be selected from the most thorny trees. The trees have a tall, slender, and not hedgy growth, and require thorough cutting back to secure a thick mass of branches at the bottom, and very few have received this treatment when young. The care in planting and rearing is similar to that required by the Osage orange.
Many hedges have been injured or even destroyed by pruning after the summer growth has commenced. The pruning must be done in spring before the buds swell, if vigorous growth is to be preserved. But strong-growing hedges, that are likely to become too high, may be checked by summer pruning.
Though the cost of planting and starting a hedge is less than that of building a good board fence, they are not adapted to farmers who will not give them the continued care required to keep them in good order. This conclusion is justified by observing how few have succeeded with hedges, and many have allowed them to be ruined by neglect.
The evergreens which have been employed have been exclusively for ornamental screens, and not for farm barriers. The Norway spruce may be placed at the head on account of its rigid growth, hardiness, and the freedom with which it may be cut back, it will bear more shade than many other evergreens, and hence the interior of the screen is green with foliage. The cutting back should be done with a knife, and not with shears. Next to the Norway spruce is the hemlock, which excels the former in its livelier green in winter, while it is unsurpassed for retaining interior foliage. It will bear cutting back to an almost unlimited extent in spring before growth commences. But it is not so stiff as the Norway spruce as a barrier. The American arbor-vitæ, though much used, becomes destitute of foliage inside, and is browned by winter.
By the introduction of barbed wire an important change is likely to take place in planting hedges. Barbed wire makes a cheaper fence for its efficiency than any other material. A serious objection to it is the danger of animals being lacerated against it, the wires being nearly invisible. This objection may be obviated by inclosing the wires in visible hedges. Efficiency may also be thus imparted to small-growing hedge plants, such as privet, barberry and small evergreens, which will require but little labor in pruning and would become handsome ornaments. The purple barberry, for example, would present an attractive appearance during a large portion of the year. A new value may thus be given to hedges by rendering moderate growers and those easily kept in shape efficient barriers for farm and fruit gardens.
Young Men Wanted.
Perhaps one of the greatest needs of horticulture at the present day, is young men to engage in the work—intelligent, patient, energetic young men, who will begin and make it a life-labor and study. What nobler employment in which young men can engage? What field for study and investigation can be found for them which offers a more gratifying and pleasant pursuit, and promises richer and more substantial results?
There are so many open questions connected with the science; so many points that need investigation, so many problems to be solved; so much to learn that is yet unknown—that the needs for more laborers are great and pressing; and the wonder is that more of our young men are not entering upon the work.
That young men are needed, rather than the old or middle aged, is because many of the investigations to be undertaken require a lifetime to perfect, and can only be brought to a profitable issue in a long series of years. Such, for instance, as the production of new varieties of fruits; the relative hardiness and longevity of trees; the effects of soil and climate, heat, cold, etc., upon plant life; the degeneracy of species, etc.;—all of which require a long series of experiments to determine. Older men, here and there, are engaged in these investigations; but they are passing away in the midst of their work only partially accomplished, and their labors are thus in a degree lost.
Our farmers' sons—stout, healthy, energetic young men—are the ones upon whom this labor and high duty more properly devolves. To them belongs, or should belong, the honor and glory of pushing forward this noble work. Many of these, however, are mistakenly leaving the farms to engage in trade and speculation; while others who remain at home mostly incline to other branches. The agricultural colleges are doubtless developing a few faithful workers for these too neglected fields; but these munificently endowed institutions are believed to fall far short of their duty in this respect.
I will close by recommending this matter to the thoughtful consideration of the young readers of The Prairie Farmer, who, as a class, I believe to be as capable and intelligent as the country affords, and with the remark that I know of no business in life to which I would sooner urge any young friend of my own to devote his talents and his energies.
T.G.
Possibilities in Iowa Cherry Growing.
Prof. Budd, of Iowa, sends The Prairie Farmer the following copy of his address before the Eastern Iowa Horticultural Society, remarking that its appearance in this paper may lead the Bloomington nurserymen to look up this very important line of propagation:
The topic assigned me is, as usual, experimental horticulture. I select the division of the work implied in the heading for the reason that it is, as yet, mainly an unoccupied field of inquiry. If the idea occurs that my treatment of the question is speculative rather than practical permit me to suggest that thought and investigation must always precede the work of adapting fruits to a newly occupied country, especially if that country is as peculiar in climate and soil as the great Northwest.
In the summer of 1882, I was fortunate in having a fine opportunity for studying the varieties and races of cherries in Continental Europe. The fruit was ripening when we were in the valley of the Moselle in France, and as we went slowly northward and eastward it continued in season through Wirtemberg, the valleys and spurs of the Swabian Alps to Munich in Bavaria, through the passes of the Tyrol in Saltzburg to Austria, Bohemia, Siberia, Poland, and Southwestern Russia. Still farther north of St. Petersburg and Moscow we met the cherries from Vladimir on every corner, and our daily excursions to the country permitted the gathering of the perfectly ripened fruit from the trees.
Still again when we passed six hundred miles east of Moscow we had opportunities for picking stray cherries of excellent quality from trees standing near the 56th parallel of north latitude.
To undertake to tell of the varieties of the fruit and the relative hardiness of the trees—as estimated from the behavior of varieties we knew something of—of the many varieties and races we studied on this extended trip would make too long a story. On the plains of Silesia, north of the Carpathian mountains we first began to be intensely interested in the cherry question. Here the cherry is the almost universal tree for planting along division lines and the public highways. As far as the eye could reach over the plains when passing over the railways, the cherry tree indicated the location of the highways and the division of estates. As we passed the highways running at right angles with the track we could get a glimpse down the avenues to a point on the plain where the lines seem to meet, and we were told that unbroken lines along the highways were often found thirty to fifty miles in length.
As a rule these street and division trees are of a race wholly unknown in this country excepting a few trees of the Ostheim in Iowa and Minnesota. They are classed in the books as Griottes with colored juice and long, slender, drooping branches. The trees are smaller than our English Morello with low stems, and neat round tops. While some other races are hardy on this plain as far north as Warsaw in Poland and Russia the Griottes are grown for three main reasons. (1) The trees are deep rooted and so small in size that they do little shading of the street or cultivated fields. (2) They rarely fail to bear full crops as the fruit buds are hardier and the fruit buds expand later than the Kentish and the other and more upright forms of the Morello. (3) The fruit is less acid and richer in grape sugar than the Kentish forms making it more valuable for dessert, culinary use, and above all for making the celebrated "Kirsch wasser" which here takes the place of wine. Some of the thin twigged Griottes with dark skins and colored juice are as large in size as our Morello and nearly or quite as sweet. That they will prove hardy and fruitful with us we can hardly doubt as they grow on the dry plains of Northeast Europe where the Kentish forms utterly fail. Why have they not been introduced? I once asked this question of Mr. George Ellwanger, of Rochester, N.Y. He replied that in the early days of their nursery some varieties of the Weichel type were introduced in their collection. But the Eastern demand ran in the line of the Heart cherries and the Dukes, and if sour cherries were wanted for pies the Kentish forms with uncolored juice seemed to be preferred. I suspect the difficulty of propagation and the inferior look of the little thin twigged trees in the nursery had something to do with the ignorance of our people of the merits of this hardy and fruitful race. In the trying climate of the Swabian Alps, the Tyrol, and the east plain of Silesia, Hungary, Poland, and South Russia, the trees are on their own roots mainly, and the sprouts are used for propagation. When small they are placed in the nursery with the tops and roots cut back in the form of root-grafts. For the use of methodic growers and or planting on private grounds where sprouts are not wanted the trees are budded or inarched on Prunus Padus.
How will we propagate this valuable race of the cherry? The scions are too small for profitable grafting, and budding on our Morello seedlings hardly answers, as the slow-growing top favors sprouting from the root. Perhaps we shall find that our bird cherry (Prunus Pennsylvanica) is best suited for our use. The question of propagation of this race is important, as the cherries grown in immense quantities in the Province of Vladimir, one hundred and fifty miles east of Moscow, and in all the provinces of the upper Volga are of this thin twigged race. Beyond all doubt it is the coming cherry for universal use in Central and Northern Iowa, and even in Dakota and the far Northwest. Yet it is not the only race of the cherry which will thrive on our prairies and prove longer-lived, more fruitful, and far better in quality than any we now have.
On the grounds of the Pomological Institute, at Proskau, Silesia, we saw many varieties of the Amarelle and Spanish cherries that will bear more summer heat, an aridity of air, and a lower summer temperature than our Richmonds or English Morello. In leaf and habit of growth these Amarells of Austria and South Russia are much like our Carnalion, but some of the varieties bear large fruit, as nearly sweet as is desirable for dessert use. The race known as Spanish bears sweet fruit, much like our tall growing Hearts and Bigarreaus, but the leaves are smaller, firmer, and thicker, and the habit of the tree is nearly as low and spreading as that of the Amarells. In Austria we are told that the original stock of these round-topped, sweet cherries came from Spain, but as we went east to Orel, Veronish, and Saratov we met varieties of this race on the grounds of amateurs and proprietors who told us that the race was indigenous to Bokara and other parts of Central Asia. While these varieties are hardier than the Richmond the trees are lightly protected with straw during the winter for protection of the fruit buds, when paying crops are secured. North of Orel the Griottes alone are grown on the bush plan, with from three to six stems springing up from the crown. In Vladimir tens of thousands of acres are covered with these bush cherry orchards, producing many train loads annually of fruit of surprising excellence, considering the far northern and inland location of the plantations.
On the college farm we have some specimens growing of the Ostheim, Vladimir, double Natte, and other forms of the Griottes, and a few specimens from Orel and Veronish of the Amarells and the Spanish races. We have now orders out, of which we have received a part, for perhaps fifty other varieties from Austria, Poland, and South Russia.
For the present these will be planted in experimental orchard with a view to noting their behavior in our climate. Until scions are grown here we can not make much advance in propagation. The work is necessarily slow, but it can not fail, I think, to finally demonstrate that so far we have been on the wrong track in attempting to grow cherries on the prairies of the Northwest.
Prunings.
If turnips or other vegetables to be fed to stock become frosted, place them in a cool cellar, cover lightly with straw, and let them remain frozen. If they do not thaw they will be little harmed for feeding.
Snow should not be allowed to accumulate on evergreens. If so, and it partly thaws and then freezes, it can not be removed, but will catch the snow and wind, often to the entire destruction of the tree.
A frost proof vegetable house is described as made with walls fifteen inches thick, double boarded, the space between the boards being filled with sawdust. The ceiling is also boarded, with about ten inches of sawdust between the boards.
New England Homestead: The early black cranberry is the popular early berry on Cape Cod. It escapes the early frosts and so the crop produces better prices. A larger, lighter and longer berry is the James P. Howley, which is being introduced in Essex county. The latter variety is not so early as the former, but bears well, and in the protected bogs along shore is frequently preferred.
Northwest Farmer: Mr. Edison Gaylord, of Floyd county, Iowa, advocates setting trees in a leaning posture, to prevent them from being killed by the combined effects of the wind and sun on their southwest side. Prof. J.L. Budd, of the Iowa Agricultural College, says, in confirmation of Mr. Gaylord's view, he saw hundreds of the finer cherry and plum trees in Russia planted at an angle of forty-five degrees towards the one o'clock sun. He says that only for a short time will trees thus set have an awkward appearance.
The most convenient boxes in which to start seeds and cuttings are those known as "flats" among gardeners. A good size for the kitchen garden in which to start tomato seeds, etc., or for the ordinary conservatory, is two feet long, sixteen inches wide, and three inches deep. These shallow boxes are easy to handle, take up little room, and allow of much better drainage to the young plants. Salt or soap boxes can be easily cut up into three or four boxes three inches deep. Neat leather handles on each end of the box will increase its handiness. The bottom is better if made of several pieces of board, as the cracks insure good drainage.
James Vick's plan of catching slugs is as follows: "Take some pieces of slate, or flat stones, or flat pieces of tin, and lay them about in the garden among the plants, distributing them very liberally; just at sundown go out and place a teaspoonful of bran on each piece of slate or tin, and the slugs will soon become aware of it, and begin to gather and feed on it. In about two hours, when it is dark, go out again with a lantern and a pail containing salt and water, and pick up each piece on which the slugs are found feeding, and throw slugs and bran into the brine, where they instantly die. It is well, also, to go around in the morning, and many slugs will be found hiding under the pieces of slate, and can be destroyed in the brine. By following up this method persistently for a few weeks the garden may be effectually rid of the nuisance."
A correspondent of the Iowa Register advises us as to the proper manner of performing this operation: "To heel trees in properly, a trench should be dug on high, dry ground from two and a half to three feet deep; one side of which should slope from the bottom at an angle of 35 to 45 degrees. The trees should then be set against the sloping side of the trench and sufficiently apart to allow of fine earth being brought in close contact with every part of every root. When the roots and bodies of the trees are carefully covered, the trench should not only be filled but rounded up so as to form a mound over them. When air spaces are left among the roots they are liable to mould and rot. And very frequently, when they have not been buried sufficiently deep, the outside bark becomes detached from them and will slip off when they are being taken from the trench."
A correspondent of Gardening Illustrated (England), says this is the way to make an asparagus bed: Trench the soil at once two spits deep, and work in stable manure as the work proceeds, or if procurable, seaweed and plenty of sand, or any gritty substance, such as road scrapings. It should be left as rough as possible on the surface until April next, when the young plants will be in the best condition for planting, viz., with shoots a few inches long; then draw wide drills, and spread the roots of the plants out, covering with fine sandy soil, leaving the tips of the shoots just peeping through the soil, and if mild showery weather prevails the growth will be rapid. Put some pea-sticks to support the growth and keep it from suffering by wind waving. Merely keeping from weeds is all the other attention required until November, when the old tops may be cut off, and a dressing of rotten manure spread on the surface of the bed, to be lightly forked in during the following spring.
The Rural New Yorker says as follows: We plant the Cuthbert raspberry for late, the Hansel for early—both are of a bright red color, and suitable for market as well as for home use. For a yellow plant the Caroline. It is hardy and productive, though not of the first quality. For canning, or for table use, if you like a fruit full of raspberry flavor though a little tart, Shaffer's Colossal. It is rather dark in color for market, and perhaps a little soft. For a hardy, early, red raspberry that is sweet and delicious for home use, plant the Turner. For a raspberry that is excellent in every way, plant the new Marlboro. For the earliest and most productive of blackcaps, plant the Souhegan. For a larger and later blackcap, plant the Gregg. For currants, plant the Fay's Prolific for red, and the White Grape currant for white. For grapes, plant the Lady for earliest white, Moore's Early and Worden for early black. For later, plant the Victoria or Pocklington, for light colored; the Vergennes, Jefferson. Brighton or Centennial for red, and the Wilder, Herbert or Barry for black. For strawberries, try the Cumberland Triumph, Charles Downing, Sharpless, Manchester (pistillate), Daniel Boone, James Vick, Mount Vernon, Hart's Minnesota, and Kentucky. You can not select a better list for trial unless by experience you know already what varieties will succeed best on your land.
