As farmers cannot wait for time to perform this office in the manure heap, they should have machinery to do the work. A wooden cylinder, armed with long iron teeth, and revolving rapidly in a horizontal position, with the manure fed in at the top through a capacious hopper, would tear up the clods into tatters, and deliver the whole in the exact condition of fine powder, which the roots of all plants require. To do this would require less time and labor than the present custom of cutting down with either spade or drag. Better still, if the manure could be so broken up as it is taken from the barnyard to the compost heap; the process of disintegration thus begun would go on through the entire mass, until, when carted away, it would be found almost as friable as an ash heap. It is by contact of the countless mouths of the roots with minute particles of manure that they suck up nutriment, not by contact with a dense clod. Hence the astonishing and immediate efficacy of liquid manure. In that the nutriment has been reduced to its utmost condition of divisibility, and when the liquid is applied to the soil, saturation reaches the entire root, embracing its marvellous network of minute fibres, and affording to each the food which it may be seeking.
We cannot use liquid manures on a large scale, but thorough pulverization of that which is solid is a very near approach to the former. Immerse a compact clod in water, and the latter will require time to become discolored. But plunge an equal bulk of finely pulverized manure into water, and discoloration almost instantly occurs. Diffusion is inevitable from contact with the water. Now as rain is water, so a heavy shower falling on ground beneath which great clods of manure have been buried, produces in them no more liquefaction than it does on that which has been dropped in a bucket. On the other hand, if the ground be charged with finely pulverized manure, a soaking rain will immediately penetrate all its comminuted particles, extract the nutriment, and deliver it, properly diluted, into the open mouths of the millions of little rootlets which are waiting for it. Practically, this is liquid manure on the grandest scale. But no one can quickly realize its superior benefits from a newly buried compost heap, unless the latter has been effectually pulverized before being deposited either in or upon the ground.
I was so impressed by the example of the thriving German referred to, that I resolved to imitate him. He had given me a rich lesson in the art of manufacturing manures cheaply, though I thought it did not go far enough. Yet I made an immediate beginning by building a tank in the barnyard, into which the wash from stable, pig-pen, and yard was conducted. This was pumped up and distributed over the top of the manure heap under the shed, once or twice weekly. A huge compost heap was made of leaves, each layer being saturated with the liquor as the heap accumulated, so that the whole mass was moist with fluid manure. It was never suffered to become dry. Now, as in the centre of a manure heap there is no winter, decomposition went on at a rapid rate, especially among the leaves, stimulated by the peculiar solvents contained in the liquor. Thus, when taken out for use in the spring, both heaps had become reduced to a half fluid mass of highly concentrated manure, in a condition to be converted, under the first heavy rain, into immediate food for plants. Though my money-cost for manure for next season would be greater than before, yet my home manufacture was immense. As I was sure that high manuring was the key to heavy crops and high profits, so my studies, this winter, were as diligently pursued in the barnyard as in the library, and I flattered myself that I had gathered hints enough among my neighbors to enable me, after next year, to dispense entirely with the purchasing of manure.
But I had other reasons for avoiding the purchase of manure—none can be purchased clear of seeds, such as grass and weeds. I have already suffered severely from the foul trash that has been sold to me. One strong warning of the magnitude of the nuisance was given by the condition of my strawberries. A small portion of them was covered, at the approach of winter, with litter from the barnyard, and another portion with cornstalks. The object was protection from the cold; and it may be added that the result, so far as protection goes, was very gratifying. But when the covering was removed in April, the ground protected by the barnyard litter was found to be seeded with grass and other seeds, while that protected by the cornstalks was entirely clean. During a whole year I had the utmost difficulty to get the first piece of ground clear of these newly planted pests, and am sure that the labor thus exerted cost more than the strawberries were worth. From this sore experience I have learned never to cover this fruit with barnyard litter. When they are covered, cornstalks alone are used. They are drawn back into the balks in April, where they serve as a mulch to keep down the weeds, and ultimately decay into manure. Though not so neat to look at, nor so convenient to handle as straw, yet they answer quite as well, and at the same time cost a great deal less.
CHAPTER XX.
MY THIRD YEAR—LIQUID MANURE—THREE YEARS’ RESULTS.
AS usual with me at the opening of spring, the garden received our first attention. Dick covered it heavily with manure, cleared it up and made all ready for wife and daughter. This year we had no seeds to purchase, having carefully laid them aside from the last. In order to try for myself the value of liquid manuring, I mounted a barrel on a wheelbarrow, so that it could be turned in any direction, and the liquor be discharged through a sprinkler with the greatest convenience. Dick attended faithfully to this department. As early as January he had begun to sprinkle the asparagus; indeed he deluged it, putting on not less than twenty barrels of liquor before it was forked up. It had received its full share of rich manure in the autumn: the result of both applications being a more luxuriant growth of this delightful vegetable than perhaps even the Philadelphia market had ever exhibited. The shoots came up more numerously than before, were whiter, thicker, and tenderer, and commanded five cents a bunch more than any other. As the bed was a large one, and the yield great, we sold to the amount of $21. I certainly never tasted so luscious and tender an article. Its superiority was justly traceable, to some extent, to the liquid manure.
The same stimulant was freely administered all over the garden, and with marked results. It was never used in dry weather, nor when a hot sun was shining. We contrived to get it on at the beginning of a rain, or during drizzly weather, so that it should be immediately diluted and then carried down to the roots. I have no doubt it promoted the growth of weeds, as there was certainly more of them to kill this season than ever before. But we had all become reconciled to the sight of weeds—expected them as a matter of course—and my wife and Kate became thorough converts to Dick’s heresy as to the impossibility of ever getting rid of them. I was pained to hear of this declension from what I regarded as the only true faith; but when I saw the terrible armies which came up in the garden just as regularly as Dick distributed his liquor, I confess they had abundant reason for the faith that was in them.
But the barnyard fluid was a good thing, notwithstanding. It brought the early beets into market ten days ahead of all competitors, thus securing the best prices. It was the same with radishes and salad. The latter is scarcely ever to be had in small country towns, and then only at high rates. But whether it was owing to the liquor or not, I will not say, but it came early into market in the best possible condition; and as there happened to be plenty of it, we sold to the amount of $19 of the very early, and then, as prices lowered, continued to send it to the store as long as it commanded two cents a head, after which the cow and pigs became exclusive customers. The fall vegetables, such as white onions, carrots and parsnips, having had more of the liquor, did even better, for they grew to very large size. It was the same thing with currants and gooseberries. The whole together produced $83; to which must be added the ten peach-trees, all which I had thinned out when the fruit was the size of hickory nuts, and with the same success as the previous year. This was in 1857, that time of panic, suspension, and insolvency. That year had been noted, even from its opening, as one of great scarcity of money in the cities, when all unlucky enough to need it were compelled to pay the highest rates for its use. But we in the country, being out of the ring, gave way to no panic, felt no scarcity, experienced no insolvency. Peaches brought as high a price as ever; as, let times in the city be black as they may, there is always money enough in somebody’s hands to exchange for all the choice fruit that goes to market. The fruit from the ten trees produced me $69, making the whole product of the garden $152. I thought this was not doing well enough, and resolved to do better another year.
At the usual season for the weeds to show themselves on the nine acres, it very soon became evident that two years’ warfare had resulted in a comparative conquest. It may be safely said that there was not half the usual number, and so it continued throughout the season. But no exertion was spared to keep them under, none being allowed to go to seed. This watchfulness being continued from that day to this, the mastery has been complete. We still have weeds, but are no longer troubled with them as at the beginning. The secret lies in a nutshell—let none go to seed. Nor let any cultivator be discouraged, no matter how formidable the host he may have to attack at the beginning. But if he will procure the proper labor-saving tools, and drive them with a determined perseverance, success is sure.
As usual, the strawberries came first into market, and were prepared and sent off with even more care than formerly. The money pressure in the cities caused no reduction in price, and my net receipts were $903. An experienced grower near me, with only four acres, cleared $1,200 the same season. His crop was much heavier than mine. If he had practised the same care in assorting his fruit for market, he would have realized several hundred dollars more. But his effort was for quantity, not quality.