A young farmer of about twenty years of age said to us the other day: “If anybody wants me, he must come to my corn-field; I live there—I am at it all the time—I have harrowed my corn once, plowed five times, and gone over it with the hoe once.” “Yes,” said his old father, who seemed, justly, quite proud of his son—“keep your plows
agoing if you want to fetch corn. I never let the ground settle on the top; if it is beaten down by rain, or begins to look a kind of rusty on the surface, I pitch into it, and keep it as mealy as flour. The fact is our farmers raise more corn than they can tend, they can’t go over the corn more than once or twice, and that’ll never do, and I guess I’ll show old Billy R—— that it’s so.”
Some ambitious farmers are pleased to “lay by” the corn very early; but it is not wise; for the grass is always more forward to grow about this season than any other; and the ground will become very foul where corn is too early laid by, and, what is more to the purpose, a great deal of the nourishment of a crop is derived from the air and dew conveyed to the roots. This can be done only when the surface is kept thoroughly open.
PLOW TILL IT IS DRY, AND PLOW TILL IT IS WET.
Speaking of corn, a very intelligent gentleman remarked: “Well, by a five minutes’ talk, I made Mr. —— produce the best crop he ever had on a certain field.” He was looking over the fence where his corn was, at a flat field, upon furrows full of water; as I came by he said: “Well, I shall never get a crop off this piece of land; it’s going just as it always does when I plant here.” I told him of an old man in Indiana, who was a good farmer, to whom I once said when at his house one morning:
“Deafenbaugh, how is it that you always have good corn when no one else gets a half crop?”
“Why,” said he, “when it is wet I plow it till it is dry, and when it is dry I plow it till it is wet.”
The man to whom I told this anecdote, says our informant, tried the practice, and gained a fine crop.
Now the principle is good. Our Dutch friend would not, we suppose, plow a stiff clay in a wet condition, unless, possibly, to strike a channel through the middle between rows. But the gist of the story lies in this—constant cultivation. Stir, stir, STIR the ground.