Roots should be gathered in the fall, after they have perfectly matured, or early in the spring, before they commence germinating and growing.
POTATO.
Boiled potatoes, mixed up with steamed cornstalks, shorts, &c., make an excellent compound for fattening cattle; yet, at the present time, they are too expensive for general use. We hope, however, that ere long our farmers will take hold of this subject in good earnest,—we allude to the causes of potato rot,—and restore this valuable article of food to its original worth. A few remarks on this subject seem to be called for.
Remarks on the Potato Rot.
Where are the fine, mealy, substantial "apples of the earth" gone?—and Echo answers, "Where?" They are not to be found at the present day. The farmers have suffered great losses, in some instances by a partial, and in others by a total, failure of their crops. Numberless experiments have been tried to prevent this great national calamity, yet they have all proved abortive, for the simple reason that we have been only treating the symptoms, while the disease has taken a firmer hold, and hurried our subjects to a premature decay. Different theories have been suggested with a view of explaining the causes of the potato rot, none of which are satisfactory. We have the "fungous theory," "insect theory," "moisture theory," "theory of degeneration," and "the chemical theory of defective elements." In relation to the "fungous theory" we observe that fungi inhabit decaying organic bodies. They are considered to be a common pest to all kinds of plants, like parasites, living at the expense of those plants. We do not expect to find fungi in good healthy vegetables, at least while they possess a high grade of vital action. It is only when morbid deposits and chemical agencies overcome the integrity or vital affinity of the vegetable that fungous growth commences.
In the fungous development, the living parts of the vegetable are not always destroyed; yet these fungi obstruct vital action by their deposits or accumulations; hence the small vessels that lead from centre to surface are partly paralyzed, and the power peculiar to all vegetables of throwing off useless or excrementitious matter is intercepted. This is not all. The process of imperceptible elimination, which might restore the balance of power in any thing like a vigorous plant, is thus impaired.
Now, it is evident that the fungi are not the cause of the potato rot; they are only the mere effects, the symptoms: preceding these were other manifestations of disorder, and these manifestations, in their different grades, might with equal propriety be charged as causes of the potato rot. The deterioration of the potato has been going on in a gradual manner for a long time. A mild form of disease has existed for a number of years, making such imperceptible change that it has escaped the observation of many until late years, when the article became so unpalatable that our attention has been called to it in good earnest; and by the aid of the microscope we have discovered the fungi. Has this discovery benefited the agriculturist? Not a particle.
The theory of degeneration, without doubt, will assist us to explain the why and wherefore of the potato rot. But this is not all; the community want to know the cause of this degeneracy. We have spent some time in the investigation of this subject, and now give the public, in a condensed form, our opinion of this matter. We may err, but our progress is towards the full discovery of the direct cause, and the ways and means best adapted to prevent this sad calamity. The potato came into existence at a certain period in the history of the world. After its discovery, it was taken from the mother soil, the land of its nativity, planted in different parts of the world, and grew to apparent perfection. Our opinion is, that the transplanting was one of the causes of this degeneracy. It is generally known that indigenous plants do not thrive so well on foreign soil as in their native; for example, the plants of the sunny south cannot be made to flourish here in the same degree of perfection as at the south; they require the genial warmth of the sun's rays, which our northern climates lack. The soil, too, mast be adapted to each particular plant. It is true we do cultivate them by ingenuity and chemical agency; yet they seldom equal the original. Need we ask the farmer if he can, from the soil of New England, produce a St. Michael orange equal to one grown on its native soil? or if a squash will grow in the deserts of Arabia? All vegetables, as well as animals, possess a certain amount of vital power, which enables them to resist, to a certain degree, all encroachments on their healthy operations. The potato, having been deprived, in some measure, of its essential element, lost its reciprocal equilibrium, and has ever since been a prey to whatever destructive agents may be present, whether they exist in the soil or atmosphere. Yet we conceive that its total destruction is dependent on another cause, which has been entirely overlooked; for, in spite of the gradual deterioration alluded to, the potato will, for a number of years, continue to keep up a low form of vitality, and result in something like a potato. In order to comprehend the subject, let us, for a moment, consider the conditions necessary for the germination and perfection of vegetable bodies. We shall then be able to decide as to whether or not we have complied with such conditions. The first condition is, we must have a perfect germ; secondly, a ripe seed; and lastly, nutrimental agents in the sail, composed of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen.
The potato requires but a small quantity of moisture to develop the germinating principle; for we have every day evidences of its ability to send forth its fibres, even in the open air. Now, the premature development of these fibrous radicles, or roots, debilitates the tuber; in short, we have a sick potato. Is the potato, under such circumstances, a perfect germ? No. If you examine the potato, with its roots and stem, you will find the cutis, or skin, and mucous membrane. This external skin, including that of plant, stalk, leaf, and ball, is to the potato what the skin and lungs are to animals; they, each of them, absorb atmospheric food, and throw off excrementitious matter; the roots and fibres are to the vegetable what the alimentary canal is to the animal. A large portion of the food of vegetables is found in the soil, and enters the vegetable system, through its capillary circulation, by the process of imperceptible elimination and absorption. Now, you must bear in mind that the fibres, stem, and leaves are delicate and tender organs; they are studded with millions of little pores, covered with a membrane of delicate texture, easily lacerated. When these delicate organs are rudely torn off or lacerated, the potato immediately gives evidence of the encroachments of disease; it shrinks, withers, and, although the soil abounds in all that is necessary for its growth and future development, it is not in a fit state to carry on the chemico-vital process. We often take the potato from the soil with a view of preserving it for seed, without any definite knowledge of the exact time of its maturity; as the season arrives for again replanting, the fibres are torn off, and the potato itself is often cut up into two or three pieces; sometimes, however, the smaller potatoes are used for seed. Both practices are open to strong objection. Oftentimes the cut surfaces of the potato are exposed to atmospheric air; evaporation commences, they lose their firm texture, and are more fit for swine than for planting.