Why? Because these farmers do not half work their land, and the manure they make is little better than rotten straw. Mr. Lawes’ wheat-field is plowed twice every year, and when I was there, the crop was hand-hoed two or three times in the spring. Not a weed is suffered to grow. And this is all there is to it.
Now, of course, instead of raising 15 bushels of wheat every year, it is a good deal better to raise a crop of 30 bushels every other year, and still better to raise 45 bushels every third year. And it is here that clover comes to our aid. It will enable us to do this very thing, and the land runs no greater risk of exhaustion than Mr. Lawes’ unmanured wheat crop.
Mr. Geddes and I do not differ as much as you suppose. In fact, I do not believe that we differ at all. He has for years been an earnest advocate for growing clover as a renovating crop. He thinks it by far the cheapest manure that can be obtained in this section. I agree with him most fully in all these particulars. He formed his opinion from experience and observation. I derived mine from the Rothamsted experiments. And the more I see of practical farming, the more am I satisfied of their truth. Clover is, unquestionably, the great renovating crop of American agriculture. A crop of clover, equal to two tons of hay, when plowed under, will furnish more ammonia to the soil than twenty tons of straw-made manure, drawn out fresh and wet in the spring, or than twelve tons of our ordinary barn-yard manure. No wonder Mr. Geddes and other intelligent farmers recommend plowing under clover as manure. I differ from them in no respect except this: that it is not absolutely essential to plow clover under in the green state in order to get its fertilizing effect; but, if made into hay, and this hay is fed to animals, and all the manure carefully saved, and returned to the land, there need be comparatively little loss. The animals will seldom take out more than from five to ten per cent of all the nitrogen furnished in the food—and less still of mineral matter. I advocate growing all the clover you possibly can—so does Mr. Geddes. He says, plow it under for manure. So say I—unless you can make more from feeding out the clover-hay, than will pay you for waiting a year, and for cutting and curing the clover and drawing back the manure. If you plow it under, you are sure of it. There is no loss. In feeding it out, you may lose more or less from leaching, and injurious fermentation. But, of course, you need not lose anything, except the little that is retained in the flesh, or wool, or milk, of the animals. As things are on many farms, it is perhaps best to plow under the clover for manure at once. As things ought to be, it is a most wasteful practice. If you know how to feed out the hay to advantage, and take pains to save the manure (and to add to its value by feeding oil-cake, bran, etc., with it), it is far better to mow your clover, once for hay, and once for seed, than to plow it under. Buy oil-cake and bran with the money got from the seed, and growing clover-seed will not injure the land.
I am glad to hear that Mr. Geddes occasionally sells straw. I once sold 15 tons of straw to the paper-makers for $150, they drawing it themselves, and some of my neighbors criticised me severely for doing so. It is not considered an orthodox practice. I do not advocate selling straw as a rule; but, if you have more than you can use to advantage, and it is bringing a good price, sell part of the straw and buy bran, oil-cake, etc., with the money. To feed nothing but straw to stock is poor economy; and to rot it down for manure is no better. Straw itself is not worth $3.00 a ton for manure; and as one ton of straw, spread in an open yard to rot, will make, in spring, about four tons of so-called manure, and if it costs 50 cents a ton to draw out and spread it, the straw, even at this comparatively high estimate of its value, nets you, when fed out alone, or rotted down, only $1.00 a ton.
I had about 30 tons of straw. Fed out alone or rotted down it would make 120 tons of manure. After deducting the expense of hauling, and spreading, it nets me on the land, $30. Now sell half the straw for $150, and buy three tons of oil-cake to feed out with the other half, and you would have about seventy tons of manure. The manure from the fifteen tons of straw is worth, say $45, and from the three tons of oil-cake, $60, or $105. It will cost $35 to draw and spread it, and will thus net on the land, $70. So far as the manure question is concerned, therefore, it is far better to sell half your straw, and buy oil-cake with the money, than to feed it out alone—and I think it is also far better for the stock. Of course, it would be better for the farm, not to sell any of the straw, and to buy six tons of oil-cake to feed out with it; but those of us who are short of capital, must be content to bring up our land by slow degrees.
“I am at a loss to understand,” wrote Mr. Geddes, “what you mean, when you say that a ton of straw will make, in the spring of the year, four tons of so-called manure. If you had said that four tons of straw would make one ton of manure, I should have thought nothing of it. But how you can turn one ton of straw into four tons of anything that anybody will call manure, I do not see. In a conversation I had with Hon. Lewis F. Allen, of Black Rock, more than a year ago, he told me that he had enquired of the man who furnished hay for feeding cattle at the Central Yards, in Buffalo, as to the loads of manure he sold, and though I can not now say the exact quantity to a ton of hay, I remember that it was very little—far less than I had before supposed. Please explain this straw-manure matter.”
Boussingault, the great French chemist-farmer, repeatedly analyzed the manure from his barn-yard. “The animals which had produced this dung, were 30 horses, 30 oxen, and from 10 to 20 pigs. The absolute quantity of moisture was ascertained, by first drying in the air a considerable weight of dung, and after pounding, continuing and completing, the drying of a given quantity.” No one can doubt the accuracy of the results. The dung made in the